by Richard Amos
“I am your creator.”
I titled my head. “You’re the goddess?”
“Yes.”
“If you’re the goddess, then why don’t you come down and sort all this mess out yourself?”
“I am the magic of the earth, the air, the fire, and the water. The witches call to me, and I bless them, as I do every leaf, every raindrop and every spider. Some call me Hecate, some call me the devil.”
“But you have super powers, right? Time for you to step in.”
“And I am poisoned.”
“What?”
“Poisoned, Jake. All of me tainted. There is a darkness in my veins, all over me, in everything. It weakens me, it holds me in a terrible grip.”
“What is it?”
“Beast.”
“What kind? Can you tell me how to kill it?”
“I can only guide you. Karla is less blind than I. This beast is a toxic entity, cloaked in shadow. Its hooks are within me, binding me to it. I do not see all, not now. There is so much hidden from me. I will look into the dark as much as I can, but I only see what I see. You were my last act, my last struggle for hope. I have given myself to you, Jake. My warrior, the weapon of the realm.”
“So, I’m … you?”
“You are you, dear boy. I dwell inside you, the power of me, but you remain Jake Winter.”
I sat forward. Finally, some kind of answers—no matter how weird. “Why me?”
“Why not you?”
“Crystal said about having someone stronger—you should’ve picked a beefcake.”
“What does a dead beast know?”
“A lot, actually. They know about you.”
“Yes.”
What the hell was this beast that could make a goddess sound so scared?
“You are strong and you are you,” she said.
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
A particularly bright flash of lighting lit the sky, followed by an almighty crack of thunder.
“Together we will grow,” she said. “You will feed and grow, and I will guide you as best as I can. What I have is what I can offer as the moments pass. If you live, I live. When you are able, you can set the world free from this darkness that wants to consume it.”
“And free you?”
“Yes.”
“So, that’s the goal.”
“Indeed it is, dear boy. For now, you will fight and learn and grow. I will be here with you as best as I can.”
“That voice in my head was you, right? Just want to be clear there aren’t any more surprises.”
“It is me,” she said, “but I cannot say anything about surprises. Life is a mystery, dear boy.”
“Sure is.”
I leaned back against the rocks and listened to the storm rage on behind me.
Chapter 36
Why me?
I opened my eyes to see my room as that question came to me. It was, as the saying goes, the million-dollar question.
Gray daylight came through my open curtains, rain pattering the window.
There was no more pain, no exhaustion, just the comfort of my bed. I was a bit whiffy, though, still in last night’s clothes. I opened my blood-drenched shirt that would never get to go out dancing again. The wound was gone, my stomach intact.
Greg and Nay!
I darted out of the room into the hallway.
“Good morning, sir,” Mr. Douglas said, running a feather duster along the skirting boards. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, cheers. Where are Greg and Naomi?”
“In bed, sir. Doing very well. They just need to sleep. Do not worry.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Not at all, sir.”
With a sigh of relief, I returned to my room, stripped my sweat-stinking clothes, and hit the shower. Man, was the hot water good. I lathered up my hair, three times, washing the previous night away.
Crystal was dead. Crystal was a beast.
I never saw that one coming, though maybe I should have, somewhere. The fact she never shook my hand that first meeting? Was that enough of a clue dangled before me?
After I was dressed, I headed downstairs. My sparks came to life as I strode into the dining room.
“What the hell?”
Dean was sitting there with a mug of coffee. “Luke,” he said. “Outside in a bubble.”
“A bubble?”
“That’s magic.”
I had a look out the window. There Luke was, in naked human form, trapped inside a shimmering pearlescent bubble. He waved at me.
“Karla wanted him locked inside until we can all question him as a group. He seems quite happy.” He cocked a brow at my sparks. “Thank God they don’t blow things up.”
“That would be a problem.”
He swigged his coffee.
“So, what’s happening this morning, then?”
“No patrols this week. The werewolf alpha has agreed to have Eric, Bliss and two other officers cover us for now. Karla wants us inside. They’ll contact us if you need to kill anything. They’ll be running things until Nay and Greg are better. Should be about a week.”
I nodded. “That’s cool.”
“Talk to me,” he said. “About what happened before I got to you? How did Crystal lose her head?”
So I told him about the white eye guy saving my life.
“I don’t know what to say to that,” he said.
“Tell me about it.”
He finished his coffee. “I want to get my hands on that guy and get my torture on.”
“Same.”
“Coffee? Tea?”
“Tea will be good. Thanks.”
Dean went off to the kitchen. My cheek still remembered the softness of his touch.
I felt myself frown. Whoopee! So he used a good hand cream. How the bloody hell was that even relevant?
Nail-biting commenced.
****
Three days later, in the late afternoon, when the daylight was falling fast, Greg and Nay, as well as Karla, came downstairs for dinner consisting of beef and onion pie and chips with a side of peas. Mr. Douglas, who’d whipped it up, informed us that good, hearty food like this was needed in times of recovery, or in times when a little light needed to be had by all. We gathered in the recreation room on the other side of the mansion, well away from Luke so my sparks didn’t get in the way of my eating. I could feel him, though, the thrum of beast presence in my bones. Though the sparks were harmless to non-beast things, it was also nice to not have them in my face as I put food in my mouth.
“Do tuck in and enjoy,” Mr. Douglas said, bowing before his exit.
I fully agreed with the man. Plus, I was bloody starving after my training session—consisting mainly of me pounding the shit out of the punch bag.
“Good to see you both up and about,” I said, taking a seat next to Nay.
“That’d been a night and half,” she said.
Greg said nothing, head bowed over his food.
“Greg?”
“I’m fine, mate.”
I left him be. Sometimes that was the best way to handle things.
“Once dinner is over, I would like for us all to speak with Luke,” Karla said.
“So, we’re protecting him?” I asked, stabbing a chip with my fork.
“That is yet to be decided.”
The meal carried on in silence after that.
****
Eric and Bliss came by the mansion in a van.
“Hi,” he said, jumping out. “H-how’s things?” He blushed at his stammer.
“Getting there,” I said.
He eyed my sparks, then Dean, and nodded.
Bliss said nothing, and opened the rear van doors to reveal the cargo. There it was, the clownfishdude, thrashing about. It was humanoid in shape, all orange and white scales with a fishtail sticking out of its arse, teeth too big for its mouth, and nasty claws on its webbed hands and feet. The coloring on its face made it
look as if it were caked in white makeup with huge orange lips.
And it stank of rotting fish.
Apparently, it’d been lurking around the leisure center this morning when it was bursting with swimmers and people at the gym. Eric and Bliss had intercepted it in time before anything could happen.
My stomach churned at the thought.
I hated not being out there, itching to be free. But with two of my guardians out of action, it wasn’t safe. The werewolves were committed to their territory, not ours. Yet the alpha had agreed to offer some help, along with some guards at the facility too. The wolves would be pulled out soon. This favor was, according to Karla, a huge honor.
I wish we could have them around all the time, but we all had our places, I guess. I was the weapon, and I had my guardians. Still, that didn’t seem to bring that much hope along with it. There was almost a feeling of when I was gonna be killed more than anything else. Just a sense I got.
Bound up in chains, the beast snarled and kicked uselessly as Eric helped Bliss drag it out.
The werewolves dumped it on the ground.
I made short work of it.
Bliss was silent and cold, simply nodding her thanks and getting back in the van as the last gold shards of beast essence fell from my hands.
“Hey, I heard you went out dancing,” Eric said, an attempt to make conversation. “How was it, apart from all that bullshit afterward?”
“Fun,” I said, watching Dean from the corner of my eye.
“Cool.”
“You should come next time.”
I saw him swallow. “Er, maybe.”
“I doubt it,” Dean said. “Mark would never agree to that. Even if there is a next time.”
“Not for the outfit I had there isn’t,” I said.
“Oh, what was it?”
I described it.
“That sucks.”
“Worse things in life.”
“Better get back on it,” he said. “Thanks again. Bye.”
And he hurried off, going up into the driver seat with no effort at all.
Night fell.
It was bloody freezing outside, yet there we all were under umbrellas and buttoned up in our coats in a ring around the bubble that held Luke. My hands were two torches in the night.
Luke had been fed tuna—three bowls a day—never leaving the bubble. He would shift to cat to eat it greedily. The cold didn’t bother him, nothing did. I think he was happy to be where he was—safer in than out.
Karla led the questioning. “Why are you hunted by this Purple character?”
“For what’s inside me,” Luke answered. “Twin shadows, deadly, living chaos. My prisoners, locked away so they cannot harm. She wants them, they have the power to help her.”
“And what is it she wants help with?”
“Lilisian,” he said. “They can help her break free from the curse you put on her.”
“How?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how their magic works, only that it’s chaotic. The shadow twins from my past, when they were free, were dangerous even in the eyes of beasts.”
“Are they some kind of beast witches?” Nay asked.
“The deadliest casters of magic,” he said.
“Why are they inside you?” Karla said.
“I’m … a prison.”
“A prison?”
He nodded. “I lock away things that need locking away. The shadow twins take no form but the shadows they are. If Dana gets me, she’ll extract them free. She can do that.”
“Dana?”
“Purple, as you call her. That’s her name.”
“And Lilisian is the old woman?”
“Yes. Trapped in there by your curse.” He fell to his knees. “Please. You can’t let her be free again. You just can’t. Or the shadows. Please.”
“We do not intend for that to happen,” Karla said.
“What about Crystal?” Greg said softly.
“She killed my Lucy.”
“Why?”
“Because I wouldn’t do what they wanted. I couldn’t … I couldn’t …”
“And the man Crystal was with?”
He wiped his eyes. “Ken, her lover. He was nothing more than a thug.”
“Some thug,” Greg said. “Dead now.”
The rain came down in heavier sheets than five minutes ago.
“You will stay here, for now,” Karla said.
I wasn’t actually expecting her to agree to him staying, her waiting to establish it just a way of drawing things out in order to question him.
“You are not permitted to stay in the house, nor will you leave your pen.”
“Pen?” I said.
She mumbled something and the bubble expanded, becoming rectangular and the size of a small room. A corridor of pearlescent bubble shot across the grounds, around the mansion and back to the bubble room, forming a sort of tube that a hamster would use—smaller for a hamster, though, unless it was man-size. Were there beast-hamsters out there?
“Impressive,” I said.
“You will be safe here,” Karla said. I waited for a speech about not being safe if he broke the rules but nothing came. Good, because that would be stupid. Letting him out would mean Purple—I wasn’t about to start calling her Dana—would get her way and make the old woman very happy. And him being in his pen meant he was safe from me, no chance of an accident.
What a turn out. One of the things I was made to kill was living side by side with me.
Not what I was expecting at all.
Chapter 37
I sank into the sofa in the recreation room, a bowl of popcorn on my lap.
This was the life! Movie sessions were the best, and I was so happy Greg had made the suggestion after the whole Luke thing was done—who was now on the other side of the house, curled up as a cat and sleeping, as cats loved to do.
It was me and my guardians, minus Karla who was in bed and Mr. Douglas who would never partake in such things.
Greg hadn’t said anything about Crystal, and that was okay. None of us pushed him. All I cared about was that he was okay and so was Nay. She also didn’t mention her friend. Again, that was perfectly okay. I’d be here to listen if they wanted to talk. I had a feeling they knew that.
“So this is what, a slasher movie?” Dean asked from the other side of the huge corner sofa.
“Yeah,” Greg said, “a house in the middle of nowhere, a serial killer prowling the woods outside.”
“Don’t we have enough violence in our lives as it is?”
“This isn’t real,” Nay said. “Plus, it relieves tension.”
“How so?”
“By taking your mind off your own horror,” I added.
“Are you all like some weird cult trinity?”
Greg snorted. “Looks like it.” He started the film.
I settled in, getting ready for some good old jump scares. It was true about taking your mind off things. The tense moments, the jumps, the shouting at the TV about how stupid he or she was for going into the basement—it was a real escape. And it was fiction. No matter how awful the things were we’d seen, scenes in a movie would never come close to being on that level. Anyway, none of us were in the mood for a romance or comedy. Either of those would grate.
The movie got underway, the scene setting in the woods outside the house. Some girl was lost, running from someone. She was obviously screwed—she had no shoes on for a start. Not good for her. She tripped. Oh, shit! The killer was gonna get her at any moment.
“Run, bitch!” Nay shrieked.
It was too late! Here came the—
White sparks erupted from my hands and immediately shot out in jets of crackling rage for the TV. It went up with a bang. My popcorn went flying.
“What the fuck!” I leapt out of my seat.
“The TV!” Greg yelled.
Nay was open-mouthed.
Dean had an inquisitive look on his face. “Since when did they do stuff li
ke that?”
“The TV!” Greg yelled again.
Nay, still open-mouthed, pointed behind me. I turned to see Luke in the part of his bubble tube that ran past this part of the house, trying to get our attention.
Dean opened the window.
“Er, excuse me,” Luke said. “Sorry to trouble you, but may I ask how is it that I use the bathroom facilities in this pen of mine?”
The TV went bang for a second time.
That was movie night over with.
Up next…
Winter Shadows
(Coldharbour Chronicles book 2)
Out October 26th 2018!
Click the image or link below to pre-order your copy now!
AMAZON
AMAZON UK
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Richard Amos is an author from England who is constantly lost in the worlds he writes about, and the ones in the queue yet to be written. He also has more books in his house than anything else, and is never without a book (and chocolate) in his hands when he's not writing. He's a proud nerd who loves to dance. Hard. Richard writes kick-ass Urban Fantasy with gay male protagonists, all with good doses of action, adventure and romance.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
ABOUT THE AUTHOR