The Beast Within (10 page)

He parked his truck in the middle of the street and ran to the front of the building past the police caution tape. He heard shouts behind him. Ignoring them, he kept going. He had to make sure his mother was safe. Bursting through the doors, his eyes met a variety of people: police officers, detectives, fire fighters, but Rebecca Moore was nowhere in sight.

“Hey,” a gruff voice said behind him. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

He was met with a middle-aged, stocky police officer sporting two bushy eyebrows that matched his mustache.

“My name is Connor Moore. My mother owns this shop. Was anyone hurt? Is she here?”

A look of forgiveness passed over the officer’s face as he grasped the situation. “No, you can rest easy, son. There was no one here when we arrived. One of our officers is on the phone with her now, explaining what happened.”

Connor breathed a sigh of relief. “How did the fire start?”

“Arson, most likely. Just waiting for the detectives to give the final word.”

“Consider the final word given,” a female detective said, walking toward the two. She was shorter, with rounded shoulders and a matter-of-fact attitude. “This one was easy: we found evidence of molotov cocktails in the store. You said this was your mother’s shop?”

“Yes.”

“Any idea of who could have done this?”

“No, I have no idea.”

He exited the area, making a beeline for his truck. It all fit. Katie’s mystery attacker, the conversation she had overheard at the guesthouse, his mother’s shop being burned. The other attack victims he learned about at the hospital must have been members of the Five Families or maybe even half-blooded descendants used as examples.

He had to warn Laren. He would explain to her later how he knew what was going on, all that mattered now was that she was warned Randolph and his companions were out for blood.

Chapter 9

N
ear soaked, he sat in
his truck and dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail. “Laren—Laren, it’s Connor. I’ll explain later, but just trust me—I know everything. You have to listen: Randolph and his family have broken the Law. They’re going to try and kill you. You have to get away from here.”

Connor hung-up and threw his phone against the windshield in frustration. What if she didn’t get the message in time? What if she was already dead and it was too late?

Think, Connor, think. If you were trying to kill two members of an ancient family, how would you do it? They would be too smart to try and fight, that would be breaking one of the Laws. How would you lure them out?

A light switched on in Connor’s head and he had the answer, he only hoped he wasn’t too far behind. Throwing his truck into drive, he sped through the rain toward the Catskill Forest.

That’s where they had to be meeting. He was sure of it. More than likely, Randolph offered an olive branch and asked to talk. The meeting would take place where it was supposed to have days before, and that’s where Randolph and his accomplices would ambush them. Connor didn’t have much of a plan, he just knew he had to warn her. Driving at dangerous speeds, he pushed his truck through the rain, the pickaxe’s constant rattling reminding him of its presence. Connor was lucky: due to the rain and the late hour on a weekday, there wasn’t much traffic.

The sky darkened as he made his way up to the Forest Preserve. He reached the Preserve in record time. Pulling up to the Welcome Station, he saw Laren’s car parked in the muddy lot. Exiting his truck he had a second thought and grabbed the pickaxe out of the bed. He ran through the forest. He would check the spot where he first met her and if that didn’t work, the abandoned ranger station they used as a finish line during their race.

The forest was different at night; not as inviting or warm as during the day. Owls hooted and tree branches creaked eerily. Connor ran, disregarding the mud sucking his feet to the ground or the fact he was soaked to the bone. He had to find her. Reaching the spot where they first met, he found it empty. Without missing a step, he continued to the ranger station.

If Morrigan was right, and he had no reason to doubt her, then they would be able to hear or smell him a mile away. But how good were their senses in the rain? Connor decided not to take any chances. Pickaxe in hand, he slowed his run once he was within a hundred yards of the building.

The pickaxe felt good in his hands—it was solid and firm. It gave him a sense of comfort. Connor was sure he would give himself away by the sound of his heartbeat echoing through the trees. He crept through the underbrush, watching where he placed each foot. Careful not to slip in the mud or trip on a branch, he walked, crouched, towards the ranger outpost. Connor took a minute to see which way the wind was blowing, careful to stay downwind of the building should they be able to catch his scent.

It was then he realized that he was scared. His black hair was matted against his forehead and his wet shirt clung to his body. He had never been in a situation anything near this intense, but somehow he knew he was going to be all right, at least that’s what he kept telling himself. Bottling his fear, he took a stronger grip on the axe and pressed forward.

After a few minutes, he was able to see the abandoned ranger station and caught a glimmer of light on the other side of the loosely boarded windows. The ranger station looked even more abandoned in the night than it had during the day.

The small building was on its last leg and the water pounding on the roof sought to bring it down to its final resting place. Still cautious to stay downwind of the building, Connor searched for a window to see inside. Although they were boarded, he was able to find a window that offered a gap large enough to see through.

The building consisted of one large room. This far into the forest electricity was out of the question; four lamps illuminated the scene. The lamps were strategically placed near the four corners of the building on boxes, crates, and scattered pieces of furniture that had been left behind. The members in the room cast shadows that played against the walls, dancing and twisting like smoke.

Connor squinted, trying to see exactly how many people the room held. Soon his eyes adjusted. Laren and Lu were on one side of the room, both dressed in jeans and T-shirts—neither of them prepared for a meeting, much less the weather. On the other side was Randolph and four strangers Connor had never seen.

Two large men and a blonde woman stood with Randolph. His normal fake smile and arrogant bravado was replaced with a rather sickly expression. The leader of this group, who Connor guessed from Katie’s description to be Faust, was talking rather quickly and heatedly with the two representatives from the Abelardus family.

“You have no claim to America and have taken this land as though you were entitled to it. You think you’re so very smart. The great Abelardus family.” He spat these words with malice. “But today you’ll see that you’re not the only family willing to make bold moves. Tonight I claim for my house what is rightfully ours.”

Laren shook her head, and with imploring eyes, tried reasoning with the power-hungry Elite. “Faust, how long have I known you? Ever since I can remember. You come from a noble family and I’m sure we can work this out. My father wants a peaceful—”

She was interrupted by Lu. “Excuse the interruption, little sister, but he’s not here for peace. He’s not even here on behalf of his family.” Lu’s jade eyes met Faust’s steel blue. “Look into his eyes. You can see the blood lust. Faust doesn’t want peace.”

Connor studied Faust closer. Like his companions, he was well-dressed in a designer grey suit. His blond hair was still wet from the rain outside, and as Lu made his observation, a sinister smile crept over his thin, colorless lips.

“Ahhhhh… Lupus, you are cleverer than you look. I’m not here for the peace talks of old men. I’m here for action. Too long have the Five Families debated over America and who holds rightful claim. Today I take it.”

“Faust, you can’t. The Law. You know what will happen to you if you break it.” Laren looked at him incredulously. “Violence at this meeting would lead to full out war between our families and would force the other houses to choose sides.”

“Exactly. It will be a war this world hasn’t seen for centuries. I won’t waste my near-immortal life and be content with idly standing by and watching lesser families prosper. I will crush the other four families and if need be, my own. This will be a war to end all wars! Each of the Five Families at each others’ throats until only one remains—mine!”

Connor’s heart was still racing. He wondered whether the Elites in the room would be able to hear it. With his newfound knowledge of the Five Families, the Law, and the treaties that had been in place, he knew the consequences this night held for the rest of history. The pickaxe, still gripped tightly in his hands, felt like it weighed a ton. Rain landed on him in a constant stream. He was soaked through but he couldn’t take his eyes off the scene in front of him.

The room was awkwardly quiet. Laren took a step back to stand beside her brother. Lupus’ giant hands were clenched into fists and his entire body was one sinewy cord of muscle. Connor could see how tense he was, like a coiled spring begging to be unleashed.

“Your plan won’t work,” Laren whispered.

“Oh, and why is that?” Faust asked, his German accent thicker than ever.

“No matter what happens here, the Council will hunt you down for breaking the Law. They’ll execute you and anyone who stands with you.”

“But my sweet Larentia, it was your family that broke the pact. Lupus’ wrath and impetuous personality are widely known. He struck the first blow at the meeting. You tried to stop him but were powerless and eventually joined him. It was just self-defense on our end. And I’ll have four other witnesses, very much alive, willing to agree to that story while you’ll be very, very regrettably dead.” Faust paused, motioning to Randolph and the other three strangers in the room.

There was another pause. The silence was deafening. Connor could only relate what he was seeing to two heavyweight boxers staring each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Randolph, you know this is madness!” Lupus roared, not daring to take his eyes off Faust for even a moment.

“Oh, Randolph and I have a very clear agreement, Lupus, don’t you worry. Isn’t that right, Randolph?”

“You know I’m with you,” Randolph’s reply came back, forced and hesitant.

Right when Connor was beginning to think he should come up with some kind of plan instead of standing in the rain, the action started.

The eyes of Faust and his followers had changed from varying degrees of blue to pitch black. This wasn’t the only transformation. The entire group traded their smiles for snarls, showing off extended fangs.

Connor turned his attention to Laren and Lu. He was startled to find much the same. Menacing fangs extended from their mouths like tiny daggers. Their eyes, however weren’t black like Faust’s and his followers, they were a pale yellow.

Connor couldn’t take his eyes off Laren. It was as though he was seeing her for the first time. She was still beautiful but somehow now more herself, as if she had taken off a mask and revealed a part of herself he had always known was there. Her long brown hair, drenched with rainwater, fell in tangles around her. She was in a warrior’s stance—knees slightly bent for balance, with one foot in front of the other, arms tense and ready.

Faust gave an every so slight hand motion and the two male Elites standing behind him rushed towards Lu. At the same time, the female Elite sprang into action and made a beeline for Laren, Randolph reluctantly in her wake.

The first Elite to reach Lu was the bigger of the two; he had close-cropped black hair and a scar that ran from his right temple to his left ear. Lu met his attacker head on and they collided with monstrous force. Lu took his attacker to the floor immediately. Sitting on the scarred Elite’s chest, Lu rained down blow after blow of vicious strikes.

He landed a few of these before the other male Elite was on top of him, dragging him off his friend and pinning his arms behind his back. But he was too late, his counterpart lay limp and lifeless on the floor. Lu’s new attacker was built like a bookcase, square shouldered, sturdy and strong as an ox. Before Lu could engage this new threat, Faust, who had observed the fight until now, crossed the distance separating them. Producing a wicked-looking brass knuckle, he inserted the fingers of his right hand through the holes and formed a fist. He threw a punch and struck Lu across the left jaw, invoking a shower of dark crimson blood from his mouth.

On the other side of the room, Laren got the best of her adversary with a series of jabs and a powerful right hook. The female Elite was slowly dragging herself off the floor as Randolph and Laren now circled each other. They waited, each searching for the right moment.

Randolph was the first to strike. Feinting a left punch, he instead stepped into a right body shot with all his weight. The blow connected with Laren’s stomach, doubling her over and taking her breath. The female Elite, who had now regained her composure, assisted Randolph by restraining Laren. Forcing her in a kneeling position, Randolph grasped her left arm behind her and the female Elite, blood dripping from her nose, held a vice-like grip on Laren’s right.

They forced Laren to watch as Faust landed another blow to Lu’s face. Blood ran freely from his mouth and nose. Crimson covered half his face.

“Lupus, you stupid, stupid boy. Did you ever think you would win?” He turned to look at Laren. “And now you can watch your brother die, Larentia, and see first-hand the power of my family.”

This all took place in a matter of seconds. They were as fast as cheetahs and as brutal as raging bulls. Connor knew he had to do something before it was too late. He was outmatched in speed, strength, and numbers. What he did have going for him, however, was the element of surprise. A plan quickly began to form in his mind as he quietly made his way from the window to the front entrance.

The rain had stopped now, and a cold breeze played with the trees, swaying branches back and forth in a slow dance. Connor watched every step, careful not to make the tiniest of sounds as he turned the corner and placed himself at the front door. Readjusting his grip on the pickaxe handle, he crouched. His timing would have to be perfect, his luck even better.

Although he wasn’t able to see what was going on inside, he could still hear. Faust was going on about how he would rule the Five Families with an iron grip and how the history books would remember his valor in battle. This was followed by another thud. It sounded like a punch to the body.

Still Connor waited. He was waiting for the right moment, the moment when Faust and his band would be the most vulnerable, and the moment soon arrived.

“I bore of this nonsense,” Faust said. “Lift his head and let me have a clear shot at his throat.”

“No!” Laren screamed, sobbing. “Please no. I’ll do anything. Please stop!”

“Just as the weak plead to the strong,” was Faust’s wicked reply.