The Beast

FIFTY-FOUR

“Please,” Bitty said. “Please tell me how you met?”

Mary glanced at Rhage and wondered which one of them was going to take a stab at it. When he nodded at her with a smile, she shrugged and rubbed his hand.

“Okay, so,” she started. “It was a—”

“Dark and stormy night,” Rhage jumped in.

“Well, it certainly was a dark night.” She thought back to what seemed both forever ago and two seconds back. “I had been doing some work with this helpline. You know, for people who needed a little advice.” Okay, it had been the Suicide Prevention Hotline, but editing that out seemed appropriate. “And this person kept calling in. I eventually met with him, and my next door neighbor recognized him for what he really was—a pretrans caught in the human world. Long story short, I ended up going with them to the Brotherhood’s training center to translate—”

“John Matthew can’t speak verbally,” Rhage said. “And she knows American Sign Language. She helped him communicate.”

“So there I was, wondering where I was—”

“When I came down the hall. And it was love at first sight for us.”

“Okay, he was blind at the time—”

Bitty spoke up in alarm. “Why?”

Mary glanced at Rhage, and they both froze. “Ah . . .”

“It’s a long story,” he said.

The waitress came back with Rhage’s two Cokes. “Let me know if you need a refill, okay?”

“Thank you.” Rhage took a draw off one of the big/talls as the woman went on to the next table. “Anyway, I couldn’t see, but the instant she spoke? I was in love.”

“What did you think of him?” Bitty asked.

Mary ducked her eyes as a smile wide as the table hit her face. “Well, at first I was overwhelmed. There’s a lot of him to go around, as you know. And I didn’t know where I was or who he was—and I couldn’t figure out why he was giving me so much attention.”

“It’s because you’re beautiful. That’s why—”

“Anywaaaaaaaaaaaay.” Mary batted away the compliment—and then stopped herself as she wondered what kind of impression that would have on a young female. “I, ah . . . thank you.”

Was she blushing? Why, yes, yes, she was.

Rhage got up and leaned all the way over, giving her a kiss. “That’s more like it.”

Mary tried to hide her fluster behind taking a sip of her water. “So we dated—our first date was actually right here in this restaurant.”

“Really?” Bitty said.

“At that table—”

“At that table—”

As they both pointed across the way, Mary finished, “Right over there. And yes, he ordered this much, too.”

Rhage sat back as the waitress delivered his appetizers. “Oh, thank you—and listen, we don’t need to wait if our entrées are ready. Just bring ’em all out. Mmmm, wanna try some, Bits?”

“It does smell good.” The little girl edged closer. “Yes, please.”

“Get your fork and dive in. The potato skins are awesome. Bacon is the source of all goodness.”

As the two of them danced their way around the plates, Mary thought back to those early days: Rhage asking her to say “antidisestablishmentarianism” in the training center’s corridor. Him meeting her here and staring across the table as if she were the single most captivating thing he’d ever seen. Him showing up at her house at four in the morning . . .

“Penny for your thoughts?” Rhage asked.

“I—ah . . .” As Bitty also looked at her, Mary wondered how much to say. “Well, to be honest, I was thinking about the moment you found out . . .”

Mary stopped herself. She didn’t want to talk about her own illness, her own strange situation to Bitty. There was just too much already going on.

Rhage got somber. “I know exactly what you’re remembering.”

Mary crossed her arms and braced them on the tabletop. Leaning in, she said to Bitty, “When he came to my house the first time, I didn’t expect him. I’d woken up at four a.m., and I was opening a can of coffee—I sliced my thumb pretty deeply. Of course, I didn’t find out until later—well, I didn’t know he was a vampire at that particular moment.”

Bitty shook her head. “I keep forgetting that you’re human. What did you . . . were you surprised?”

Mary laughed in a burst. “You might say. It was a while before I found out. He ended up . . . spending a day with me. He couldn’t leave because of the sunlight, but he didn’t want to tell me why—and then there was . . .”

She remembered him disappearing into her bathroom. And reappearing eight hours later, unaware that he’d been gone so long.

“Well, we had a lot of things to get through. I pushed him away a lot.”

“So what got you together?”

Mary looked at Rhage. “Oh, it’s a very long story. What matters is that it all worked out in the end.”

“And look, here’s dinner!” Her hellren all but got up and rushed the waitress over. “Perfect!”

Rhage helped usher the plates back and forth, trading empty ones for full ones, and then he arranged the constellation of calories he’d ordered in a semi-circle around him and Bitty.

“Anything that I have is yours,” he said to the girl. “Don’t be shy.”

As Rhage tucked in, he seemed wholly unaware of how Bitty stared at him, as if she were realigning something in her mind.

“I know,” Mary found herself saying. When the girl looked over, she murmured, “I couldn’t believe he was real, either. But I swear on my mother’s soul that he is the very best male I’ve ever met—and when he says he’ll never hurt you or let anything hurt you? He means it.”

Bitty glanced back at Rhage. And then said, “May I try some of your steak?”

Oh, she knew just what to say, Mary thought with a smile.

And sure enough, Rhage’s chest puffed up—because he was exactly that kind of male who liked to provide. In fact, it was better than actually eating, to him.

“Let me give you the best part of this,” he said as he took his fork and knife, and began making a surgical assessment of the honking huge piece of meat. “The very, very best.”

As Assail froze with the blood slave in his arms, the male who was in the middle of Naasha’s foyer turned around—and Saxton nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw what had rushed into the space.

Fortunately, the King’s attorney recovered quickly. And even had the presence of mind to keep his voice down. “Whatever are you . . .”

Assail swallowed hard. “Help me. Please.”

Saxton patted at his jacket—and then took out the Holy Grail as far as Assail was concerned. “My car is outside—I had shopping to do this night, and thank the Virgin Scribe for that. Take it—but be quick. They asked me to step out as they argued. I don’t know how long they’ll be. Go! Go now!”

The solicitor lunged for the front door and held it wide as Assail hustled across the foyer, zeroing in on the cold night air that streamed into the mansion.

“I’ll delay them,” Saxton said. “For as long as I can.”

Assail paused for but a heartbeat as he took the key and stepped over the threshold. “My debt to you. For e’ermore.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He tore out, and would have leaped down the shallow steps if he’d been able. And dear God, those chains, those dreadful chains, they chimed and threatened to cut off his air supply as he crossed the distance to the BMW 750i.

He all but threw the male in the back.

No time to waste. Free of the weight, he bolted around to the driver’s side, jumped in, and started the engine. The temptation was to floor the accelerator, but he didn’t want to risk squealing out and causing attention to be garnered. He took off with alacrity, but no undue speed, and was soon cruising away, the mansion fading in the rearview mirror as he proceeded down a long, descending driveway.

Now, he was the one who was shaking as he took out his phone.

He used Siri to place the call. And when it was answered, he cut off the hello. “Vishous, I need medical help. Now. Where are you? Okay. Right. I can be there in fifteen minutes. Please. Hurry.”

Ending the connection, he tilted the rearview downward so he could see into the backseat. “Hang on. We’re going to get you help. Tell me, what’s your name?”

“I . . . don’t know,” came the weak response.

Stopping at the end of the drive, Assail went right, but did not take any deep breath that they were free. It was going to be a while for that. “Stay with me. You must . . . stay with me—you’re too close to safety to quit now. You stay with me!”

Aware that he was yelling, he forced himself to ease off on his voice.

“Do not die on me,” he muttered as he found himself lost.

Where was he going? Where . . . ?

Vishous had told him to go to the northeast part of town, to—

He took his phone out again and hit up Siri once more. When Vishous answered, Assail didn’t recognize his own voice. “Where am I going? Tell me . . .”

Vishous started to speak.

“I can’t hear you . . . I can’t . . . see . . .” Assail wiped his eyes. Fates, was he crying? “Help me . . .”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Look for a sign. Look for a sign, Assail.”

Assail’s blurry eyes rose to the rearview, to the shivering naked male on the leather seats. Then he looked out the front windshield.

“Montgomery Place. The sign says . . . Montgomery Place.”

“Take a left. Now.”

Assail did what he was told without argument, wrenching the wheel, skidding on the pavement, cutting off a car in the opposite lane. As a horn sounded, Vishous kept talking.

“Two miles up, there’s a high-class shopping center. It’s got a real estate office in it. Hair salon. Restaurants. A jeweler’s. Go around to the back. I’ll be at the far end.”

Assail nodded, even though the Brother couldn’t see him.

And as he didn’t end the call, Vishous said calmly, “You got this, my man. Whatever it is, we’ll handle the shit.”

“All right. All right.” Assail looked back at the male again. “Stay with me. . . .”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Vishous murmured. “I’m only going silent for a sec as I dematerialize. Okay, I’m back.”

Assail didn’t say anything further as he leaned in to the wheel and waited for the—how many miles did he have to go? two?—shopping center to appear. And then there it was, its glowing signs and mostly empty lot a beacon of hope, a symbol of salvation.

“I’m here, I’m here.”

He punched the accelerator, shooting beside the real estate office and skidding around to the rear of the building. The back was all utilities and Dumpsters, staff parking and loading docks for the stores. The BMW gathered speed, surging ahead like a missile.

In the headlights, at the far end, a single dark figure was standing with feet planted.

Assail stomped on the brakes, and then relented as he heard a clunking and a groan of pain from the back seat. As the car jerked to a stop, he got out without putting the engine in park and had to duck in again to toggle the gearshift.

“What are you doing with Saxton’s car—”

He cut off the Brother. “Help me—”

“Have you OD’d—”

Assail ripped open the rear door. “Help him! Please!”

He had to wipe his eyes again—indeed, they were leaking all over the place.

Vishous took out a gun and approached the open car, peering in. “What. The. Fuck.”

“He-he-he—” Shit, he couldn’t speak. “I found him. Behind the lock. He was in the basement. I couldn’t leave him.”

The male cowered away from Vishous, retracting his spindly body into the far side of the backseat, that stringy hair all over his thin arms and boney back.

“Shit.” Vishous straightened and looked over. “I can’t even start treating him here. We gotta bring him in. Christ—the chains—okay, get in—not behind the wheel. I’m driving. You can explain on the way.”

Assail stumbled togo around to the passenger side in the front. But then he stopped, re-thought things and slid into the back with the male. Taking off his jacket, he laid it over the slave’s nakedness.

“It’s all right.” The car began to move, streetlights flaring in the dark interior as Assail tried to get a hold of himself. “We’re going to be . . . all right.”