In the Arms of the Beast Read online

  “Don’t think he respects anyone but himself,” Fox said, appearing out of nowhere with a steaming cup in hand. “To be fair, he can do things none of us can.”

  “And that makes us his bitches,” Joker grumbled with a scowl. “Makes me wanna bite his nose off. Didn’t sign up for this to take someone’s shit.”

  “That’s barbaric,” Laurent said, appearing out of nowhere between Fox and Joker. His chin was high up in that snotty way Beast found adorable despite detesting it so much sometimes. Beast hadn’t told Laurent when Magpie was to arrive to minimize interference, but Laurent must have found out, because why else would he be out when his hair wasn’t perfect just yet?

  Not that he didn’t look beautiful, but the waves, which were always so carefully defined, now appeared like an untrimmed bush of messy curls. And he hadn’t even bothered to tie the mop of dark hair back, as if he’d left the apartment in a hurry.

  No one else would notice the change, but Beast had learnt Laurent’s habits by heart and paid attention to every detail that could inform him of his husband’s moods. It didn’t go just one way either. He and Laurent irreversibly changed one another. And the same way Beast analyzed Laurent’s mane, Laurent would be drawing conclusions from the fact that Beast hadn’t mentioned why he and his men had been standing in one place for the past thirty minutes. And behind his pleasant smiles was venom that would eventually end up in Beast’s flesh if Laurent found something amiss. No matter the violence Beast’s fists were capable of, Laurent trusted they would never turn on him and wasn’t afraid to challenge his husband.

  That was the kind of relationship they both wanted, even if it came with unexpected consequences.

  Joker snorted. “You are married to one of us ‘barbarians’. Get used to it.”

  Laurent stepped closer to Beast and hugged his arm, despite still wearing that snotty scowl. “Beast is an exceptionally well-read man.”

  Beast saw the tension on his friends’ faces when they tried to keep from laughing, but the sudden appearance of a cavalcade of vehicles gave everyone new focus. “That’s him,” he said, noticing the huge golden Hummer flanked by two black limousines.

  Everyone remained still as the vehicles paraded along the asphalt road, only to stop in front of the main entrance of the clubhouse. The driver’s door opened in a flash, and a bald man in an immaculate gray suit and reflective shades emerged, speeding to open the back door as if his life were under threat if he couldn’t reach the handle within the span of two seconds.

  Vars squeezed Beast’s shoulder in passing and approached Magpie, who left the Hummer in all his finery. Despite it being late April, cold wind blew under Beast’s jacket, and the same gusts of air pushed Magpie’s black curls into his face, leaving the initially perfect hairdo in disarray. The man’s leopard print coat—which Beast hoped was fake fur—waved in the air like a ripped sail during a storm, and his scarlet suede loafers had to suffer the indignity of sinking into mud as soon as he stepped outside.

  The driver gawped and dove back into the car, returning with a beautifully-carved wooden plank, which he placed at Magpie’s feet. And once the red loafers were safe from dirt, the… servant, guard, or whoever else that man was, crouched next to his master and proceeded to clean the colorful suede with a brush and cloth.

  Laurent’s hand tightened on Beast’s, but they both followed Vars’s example and pretended to not notice the slavish gesture.

  “Shall we move this conversation inside?” Laurent asked, as if he were the host. With the heavy wind, Beast couldn’t blame him for wanting to take initiative, bur he was not the host, and Beast needed to take the reins of the situation. He left Laurent behind and shook Magpie’s hand, even though it meant having to awkwardly hover his arm over the servant’s head, before gesturing at the entrance in invitation.

  Magpie waved his manicured hand and stepped off the board, straight on the first step leading inside the old building. “Malachite, you can continue inside.”

  Nobody questioned the servant gathering the wooden plank and following his master inside while two other men remained in their black limos as if they’d been given their orders telepathically.

  Beast led the way, while the club members flanked their guest on the way inside. The life partners of bikers didn’t get involved in important matters without being asked, and the girlfriends of his brothers would have surely taken the hint, but Laurent followed them like a bloodhound.

  Beast chose to ignore his presence for now and settled on walking alongside Magpie, who was eager to catch up with his former henchman, Vars. They were halfway down the main hall of the original manor house, which was now devoid of the sculptures Laurent had told him used to stand in alcoves, when Beast heard hurried footsteps.

  Laurent had broken into a jog in an attempt to overtake men much taller than him, his puffy hair floating with every step he took. Laurent had told Beast that in his own time, he was considered tall, and the way he compared in that department to the men of today remained a source of frustration for him. Which was exactly why Beast didn’t want to say anything, even though his partner’s sudden approach pulled on the strings of his nerves even before that pretty mouth opened.

  “May we finally find out how you intend to use the Pigeon Heart?” Laurent asked, attempting to maneuver himself between Magpie and Malachite, but the demon’s servant was protective of the short distance between his master and him and forced Laurent back with his presence alone. Despite the serious nature of the situation, Beast had to bite his lips not to snort.

  Magpie looked back with a pleasant smile reminiscent of the Mona Lisa. “My boy, I will tell you everything in due time. I wish to see the jewel first,” he said as they all entered one of the many rooms dedicated to common use. “And what in the world happened to your hair?”

  Laurent stumbled, clearly not expecting the tactless question. “Nothing... just an experiment with a hair washing method for curly hair. It is not of importance right now.”

  But Magpie was dead serious. “When you visit New York, I will make sure to book you an appointment with my personal stylist. That woman has magical hands.”

  Laurent, whose face was pink like a ripe raspberry, struggled for breath even as he faked a laugh. “Certainly. But as I was saying, we are all curious about your plans. I hope you don’t just intend to keep it for yourself. I can imagine it would make a delicious snack for your kind.” Laurent said, but he wasn’t doing a very good job at making it sound like a joke, and Joker actually hid his face in his hands, staying behind.

  Fantastic.

  Magpie’s chuckle was like the ring of a bell—full and thrilling to the ear. “Ah, they are sweeter than maple syrup, but this time, I’ll restrict my diet.”

  Vars glared at Laurent, rubbing his graying beard. “We all want this world to survive.”

  Laurent frowned, even though his skin got even darker. “I am not implying otherwise,” he said curtly.

  “Actually, you are,” Joker said, catching up, with a cool frown.

  Beast stopped in front of a large mirror, hit by the realization that it appeared so much clearer than usual without the odd dark sheen at the edges. That dusky effect was a sign of Baal’s presence and always made him feel like he was being watched, but the moment Magpie had marched into the building with the leopard print coat floating off his shoulders like a cape, even the light coming in through the windows seemed brighter.

  “Maybe we could continue discussing this without outsiders?” Laurent suggested as if he were a patch and had the right to all the information he wanted. And to make his thoughts even more obvious, he glanced at Malachite, whose face revealed nothing. If Beast didn’t know better, he might have assumed the man was a robot.

  Magpie pursed his lips, but after a moment’s reflection, he pointed to the wall and Malachite stood by it without a word. “Lead the way then.”

  Beast swallowed when he saw Laurent flinch once they left the corridor and met the large gargoy
le sculpture at the foot of the circular staircase, which led to Knight’s apartment. Laurent always felt uneasy in this part of the clubhouse, close to the secret passage into the cellar. Over two hundred years ago, or last year—depending on how one chose to look at things—Laurent had killed William Fane in one of the dusty rooms below and barely made it out alive. It had been what triggered the chain of events that brought him to year 2017, and while Beast detested seeing his partner’s unease, he couldn’t help but be grateful.

  Laurent had been a beacon of light in Beast’s world of self-loathing and loveless misery, and as much as Beast wanted Baal gone forever, he owed the demon for changing his life for the better. No matter how snotty, reckless, and self-righteous Laurent sometimes was, he was Beast’s family and offered him the kind of unconditional love Beast hadn’t known existed before they met.

  But there was no time for sentiment. Beast walked behind the statue and pushed the carved wooden tulip, which served as a hidden button to open the passage, and while he should’ve asked Laurent to leave, he didn’t have the heart to push his husband away when he joined them. After all, Laurent was in this mess as much as everyone else.

  Beast looked down the narrow stairs leading to the threshold of hell before facing his men. With Knight, Elliot, Gray, and Shadow gone to investigate a lead on a ruby that could keep the latter alive, there weren’t that many of them. But even a group so small would end up crowding the cellar.

  “Jake, get the drivers to park in the garage and take them to the kitchen. They’re surely hungry. Fox, take care of Malachite. Joker, make sure the girls have everything ready for the party. We shouldn’t be long,” Beast said.

  Once jobs had been assigned, the dim lightbulb downstairs went on, and Beast led the way into the abyss that smelled of damp stone. He needed to hunch over in order to fit his bulk under the ceiling, but his shoulders still rubbed the walls of the narrow tunnel. But this place had not been made for people their size, and Laurent was the only one who didn’t have to watch his head on the way down.

  As they descended, Beast heard the steady metallic thud ahead, and the noise grew ever louder as the four of them—he, Laurent, Magpie, and Vars—made their way toward the underground workshop. The noise was dull, like the clomping of devil’s hooves, and when Beast reached the downstairs corridor, his hand itched to seek out Laurent’s to protect him from painful memories.

  But Laurent must have remained unaffected, because he approached Magpie and went on with the uncomfortable conversation from earlier. “We’re about to see it. Is it not time for us to find out what you intend with the ruby?”

  Magpie stopped in front of the closed door, waiting as Vars knocked on the reinforced entrance in a coded sequence. “I see we have a doubting Thomas in our midst.”

  Beast’s lips pressed together, and he shot Laurent a sharp glare before making the tiniest shake with his head.

  The door unlocked, and Rev emerged, dressed in gray overalls. The white light behind him created a sharp contrast with the orange glow in the corridor, framing his bald head, large yet powerful body, and making prematurely deep wrinkles more obvious. His nostrils flared when he noticed he was face to face with Magpie, but he politely stepped back, letting them enter the space cramped with specialist equipment Rev used when working on stolen jewelry.

  Metal bolts slid into place as soon as everyone was inside. But the moment the door locked, a flash of dread passed through Laurent’s features, leaving them pale and tense. He’d told Beast that gruesome memories of a powerful man threatening him with rape and death returned to him every time he entered those underground rooms, and Beast’s heart bled for him.

  He stood closer and discreetly placed his hand on Laurent’s back, relieved to sense his husband relax somewhat.

  Magpie waved his hand with a smile, heading toward the safe at the back of the room. “I understand your worries, my dear Laurent. I decided to keep my cards to myself until now, in case the jewel heist fell through, or if other circumstances made the plan unfeasible. To make sure you sleep soundly, Laurent, I will leave the Pigeon Heart with you until the day it’s needed. All I wish for now is to take it in my hands and feel its power. The ruby will be of use once the trees bear fruit.”

  He made an annoying pause, as if they were involved in a play, not talking life and death, but eventually went on. “When I was still a young human being, and my thoughts were deeply tainted by the darkness of my own world, I followed Baal’s guidance, collecting rubies and the energy to feed them. I did my work, because I expected that the power would be needed for a higher purpose, but the results are all the same. During my years among humans, I have not wasted this power by enticing many people into frivolous pacts. It was to serve a higher purpose, and even though my goals have changed since then, my resources have only grown. Now that we have a ruby large and pure enough, I can use it to focus the entirety of the energy I’ve gathered throughout centuries. You have all seen Shadow’s original form. I can create a similar creature with the Pigeon Heart, and use it to stop Baal.”

  “Is that how you were made, too?” Laurent asked softly.

  The room stayed silent apart from the creaking of the safe door when Rev pulled it open.

  Magpie clicked his tongue. “Yes, Laurent, it is indeed. But unlike Shadow, I was made with living flesh.”

  “But your life has been so long already. It spanned centuries while poor Shadow is predicted to only have weeks left if he can’t obtain another gemstone. Does this mean the ruby inside you is as powerful as the Pigeon Heart?”

  Magpie’s sapphire eyes narrowed. “That is correct. What’s keeping Shadow alive now is just a shard while the ruby inside me could keep me alive for millennia to come.”

  Vars was the first one to lose his patience. “Laurent, where is this going?”

  Laurent’s dark eyes caught the glow of the work lamps, hypnotizing Beast, who could barely comprehend the magnitude of Magpie’s potential. “I just wish to establish if there is another option, in case the Pigeon Heart couldn’t serve its purpose.”

  Magpie frowned, but his gaze was fixed on the large jewelry box Rev removed from the safe. “What does it matter? I am working with you, because I want this world to continue. What would be the point of my sacrifice if I didn’t get to be a part of the aftermath? Don’t be ridiculous. The sole reason I want to fight for you all is the fact I find the comforts of this realm superior to living in Baal’s domain.”

  Beast clenched Laurent’s shoulder. There it was, the selfishness Beast had learned to expect from this strange creature and the reason why Beast chose to trust Magpie. “How about you let him finish?”

  Laurent’s lips thinned as he watched Magpie handle the priceless jewel. It was huge, the size of a duck’s egg and so clear it couldn’t be compared to any other jewel Beast had ever seen. The rich color, shine, and clarity of the Pigeon Heart couldn’t have been reproduced with plastic or glass, and even Beast was drawn to the glow it exuded when Magpie brought the stone to his face and took an ecstatic sniff.

  “Magnificent. Pure. And so powerful. The perfect future heart for the creature to save us all,” he said, pressing the stone to his chest. “I will bring him to life once the time comes, and he will seal the open portal by walking through it, filled with all of my power. The Pigeon Heart will be gone, but so will be Baal. Locked out of this realm forever.”

  Laurent took a sharp inhale. “That’s it? That’s all it will take? A living cork?”

  Beast wished he wasn’t here to make such crude comments when he didn’t understand the issues Magpie was discussing. He squeezed Laurent’s arm discreetly, but Magpie’s expression didn’t lose any of its serenity. Magpie cocked his head, but didn’t even look at Laurent, massaging the ruby instead as if it were a baby.

  “It’s no small feat, Laurent. Three centuries’ worth of pure energy and the finest ruby in this world. Once the creation of the golem is over, I will be as weak as a human, and expect you all to
take care of my earthly vessel to the highest standards.”

  Beast cleared his throat. “And the golem will seal the portal without any issue?”

  Magpie sighed. “I can only hope so. If not, we’re doomed.”

  Beast was glad to leave the claustrophobia-inducing cellar. But despite the contentment of finding out what the plan was—abstract as it seemed—Laurent’s behavior remained a thorn in his side. Magpie wasn’t the kindest of creatures, and the last thing they needed was to leave him with a grudge.

  As soon as they were out of the secret passage, Beast excused himself and pulled Laurent with him, because that fire needed to be extinguished as soon as possible. He led the way toward the part of the building that had been affected by the fire ignited by Vars’s former lover. There had been too much going on since to waste time on extensive repairs, so they’d marked areas that suffered extensive structural damage with bright yellow tape and hoped the hangarounds would know what was in their best interest and stay away.

  Beast lifted the tape and entered the damaged section of the building. Some of the floors had collapsed farther on, but this far from the epicenter of the fire the risk was low. Though the rubble and blackened walls should serve as warning to any trespasser. The air smelled of damp soot, and the empty windows let the breeze run freely, howling in the corridors like a pack of wolves about to chase down any visitor.

  Beast took Laurent past a pile of broken furniture. The room they entered used to be a location for orgies, but its sofas and daybeds had become history. The demolished space was a wordless warning of what the world could become if things went according to Baal’s plan.

  Laurent looked around as rubble crunched under their feet. “Why are we here?” he whispered.

  “I need you on my side, so stop undermining me. I wanted to talk to you in private, but away from Vars or Magpie. We talked about the whole thing yesterday and you said you’ll follow my lead, so what are you doing questioning Magpie like that?”