Her Psycho Beasts, page 8
part #3 of Her Vicious Beasts Series
In the time between my tasting of Aurelia’s blood and now, the two apparitions that follow me have spawned until they became a group of malevolent beings. Their collective chanting voices fill my ears on a near constant basis and it takes an unreasonable amount of concentration to carry a normal conversation.
Any beast who swore themselves to me did so by offering me their blood. It was the most complete form of submission—to have a taste of their life force and thus for me and my shark to have complete control over them. They would never be able to conceal themselves nor any falsehood from me.
But taking Aurelia’s blood had been a pleasurable mistake. It had been a catalyst for my land psychosis and I had a bad feeling that it won’t simply fade away. I am forced to turn cold, shut off my emotions and let my animus lead in order to focus.
When we arrive at the motel, I find Marduk pacing in his room, his scent wild and impatient.
“You have been excruciatingly mum on any details, shark-friend,” he states flatly.
I take one of the plush seats by the small dining table. “For her protection, you understand, of course.”
Marduk turns on his heel away from me to pour us drinks, an aura of red and black pulsing around his frame. This is the first time Marduk has ever been irritated with me and I must tread carefully.
“There is a slight complication.”
“Yes, I know him,” Marduk says, stoppering the whiskey. “I’ve not threatened him yet either. Very unlike me.”
It really is.
Marduk turns back around, his eyes sparkling. “See? I’m already changed by being so close to her. I am not even in her presence and I feel as if I am born again.”
If I were a different beast, born under different circumstances, his words might have made me smile.
“We need it confirmed by Yeti.”
“Then lead me to him.”
“That’s the other complication,” I say. “He’s currently locked up. The new administration supports the Old Way.”
Marduk makes a noise of contempt. “As do I, however, there are aspects of the Old Way that should be left behind. Someone needs to explain this to him.”
I take a measured breath, exhaling slowly as I recall my last conversation with the new deputy headmaster. If he were any other order, his days would be numbered. The considerable power in his blood complicates things.
“Scythe,” Marduk places heavy emphasis on my name. “The longer that phoenix is in your school, the longer she is in danger.”
“Which ‘she’?”
“Your she. The Lady Boneweaver.” He swirls his glass around. “Does she know about—”
“Not yet. There is the pressing matter of her coming out.”
He nods slowly, contemplating this. “She is but a debutante, in a dark, dark world. She could never wear a dress of white. It would have to be black.”
I’d always imagined her in dark blue to match her eyes when fierce. Like the deep sea before a storm, but even that colour isn’t quite right for the impact I desire. “There is the other matter of Sabrina Panthera.”
Marduk’s face turns grave, and I know he’s thinking about Titus Clawson and his role in Sabrina’s kidnap. “It may get messy.”
“It’s always messy,” I muse. “In one way or another.”
“There is a foul essence in the air, shark-friend,” Marduk says, staring out the window to the street below. “And I do not like what it will bring.”
Fear stirs in my arteries and it takes me all of a second to realise it’s not my own. I know my blood connection to Aurelia is going to allow me to feel certain things, but this level of panic is unexpected.
And then it’s my own anger, a whip of icy wind lashing strong enough to make me jump to my feet.
Marduk goes still, before also rising to his feet as Xander’s droll voice stalks into my brain, followed by a nervous request for communication from Raquel, my new broadcaster. I listen to what they both have to say, feeling my blood pressure rise with each passing second.
I take a deep breath to steady myself and thank the Wild Goddess that Savage is not here right now.
Marduk waits for me, keenly searching my face. “I long for a connection such as this,” he murmurs. “What ails your pack?”
Swirling my whiskey glass, I consider my options. Of the two of us, Savage is the shit-stirrer. In the past few years, I’ve been the problem solver. But before that, I’d done my fair share of shit stirring too.
Chapter 14
Aurelia
So Connor wasn’t exaggerating when he called the confinement space ‘the dungeons.’
It’s a dim, circular cavern, deep under the earth.
Our entire class is packed like sardines, standing on the bare, dirt-floor of a cell carved into the earthen wall, leaving those at the front to peer through the thick obsidian bars at another class of naughty students across the cavern.
There’s a pit toilet in our cell, obviously used, and the place smells strongly of that, and serpent. In short, it’s definitely something I’d expect grumpy old dragon-lords to keep their unfavourables in.
Yeti had muscled everyone aside to push Minnie up against the bars to a prime position for fresh air, and I got to be next to her, with Raquel, Stacey and Connor squished up next to and behind me, sulking away about not being able to sit down. Our nimpins chirp their sorrows in our ears, feeling everyone’s shared discomfort.
I mean, I’m sulking too. We all are, full pout and crossed arms and everything. Though it’s useless because the guards shoved us in here and then left through the low-ceilinged tunnel that leads back above ground.
“Feels very authentic, doesn’t it?” Connor says from where he’s pressed against Beak. “It was creepy being down here by myself last night, but with all of us in here, it’s just a party!”
“Minus the actual party,” Stacey grumbles, shaking the obsidian bars with both hands. “I’d put music on, but then we’d get found out.”
“We can sing,” Minnie says helpfully. “What’s a good prison song?”
“They must sing in prison,” Connor says. “Shame Savage isn’t here so we could ask him.”
The pang of sadness that strikes my heart every time my wolf-mate is mentioned strikes me anew, making me sink lower into my gloom.
My phone vibrates where I’ve hidden it inside my bra, and I hiss at my friends to cover me from the security cameras we’ve located on the wall opposite us.
When I see who it is, my stomach leaps.
“Lyle?” I whisper.
All the grumbles in our cell go quiet to listen in.
“Angel?” comes an angry voice. “Why have you barred me out of your mind?”
He must’ve been trying to communicate with me, but locked in obsidian, any telepathic communications would be blocked.
“Help us, Mr Pardalia!” one of the felines from the back of cell shrieks. “Help us—” someone quite obviously slaps a hand over his mouth and there’s a brief shoving and tugging. My ass gets painfully pressed into the bars, and I grimace.
“Not on purpose,” I whisper quickly. “It’s just Dolores being…well, Dolores. He’s—” I’m suddenly aware of the fact that Scythe has specifically ordered me to keep Lyle calm. And telling him I’ve been locked up doesn’t equal a calm lion.
“He’s what?” Danger drips from his voice and I can’t pretend it doesn’t make my anima preen to hear him protective like this.
“It’s just a cute little punishment he’s given the whole class.” I try and sound bubbly, frantically gesturing to Connor and Minnie to back me up. “Not me specifically. But we’re in obsidian, so I can’t chat right now.”
“Yeah, we’re having a good time, actually!” Connor does a great fake laugh. “Don’t worry about it, Mr Pardalia.”
“I’m drawing pictures,” Stacey says helpfully, shoving her foot through the bars to make patterns on the dirt floor. “It’s so cool down here.”
“Down where?” Lyle’s animus has that gravelly voice that makes goosebumps erupt all over me.
“Nowhere!” I say quickly. “Gotta go, there’s cameras.”
I hang up on him.
Raquel pats me on the back.
“Adorable,” Stacey sighs, wistfully. “He might be angry enough to blast us out of here.”
“Why didn’t you ask him to bail us out?” a male voice asks angrily.
Yeti lets out a low growl. “He can’t, you idiot. Shut the fuck up before I come over there.”
I grumble. “I really didn’t want him to get into any more trouble on my account. He’s not deputy headmaster anymore because of me.”
“Well, someone’s gotta put Dolores in his place,” Minnie says, resting the back of her head on Yeti’s chest. “This is going to get out of hand, I can just tell.”
“I’d offer to shift into a mouse,” I say, “and steal some keys, but they’d just lock me right back up.”
“Can you really do a mouse, Lia?” Yeti asks.
A flash from the side of my eye tells me Xander is shifting around wherever he’s pressed against the cell wall. Though his eyes are dark and hollow, his mating mark glows with that ephemeral celestial light that does nothing but draw me in.
“Yeah,” I say nonchalantly. “I’ve done a possum too.” Just for fun when I was a kid. It had snuck into my cottage in my early days in there, when I’d forgotten to shut the kitchen window one night. I’d found him hunched over my left over two-minute noodles when I’d gone to investigate the noise, butter-knife raised. He wasn’t even scared of me, so that’s when I gave him a shove to send him tumbling out the window. I have to touch the creature to be able to shift into them.
“Why the hell would you shift into useless animals?” Rowan, a hyena standing behind Yeti, asks. “If it was me, I’d choose something cool, like an elephant. Or an echidna.”
I’ve never touched an elephant before, so I can’t do that. But the insane sense of smell would be useful. I’d be even better at hunting than a wolf.
We’ve stood in our cages for almost exactly three hours before the metal grate at the entrance slides open and Damien prances in with a line of guards. Everyone goes still, on high alert, and Yeti’s arms tighten possessively around Minnie.
Damien’s white glasses flash in the dim light. “Students,” he announces haughtily, “do you feel like you’ve learned your lesson?”
No one replies and I pass Stacey a dark look.
“Sir, this isn’t sanitary!” Rowan whines. “If the parents hear about this—”
Damien laughs. “I’m sure your parents are thanking me for long overdue discipline.” He waves the guards forwards. “I will have your complete obedience, or nothing at all. Hence, I will make this discipline memorable.”
“I’m hungry!” one of the eagles shout. “You have to feed us at some point.”
Damien shrugs and gestures to the guards. “Only good students get fed. You are not, in fact, good students.”
We all watch on as the guards heave at something next to our cell. It takes two big felines to do it, but they manage to pull at whatever it is.
Our entire cell begins to shudder.
Minnie lets out a little, “uh oh” just as we begin to descend. The dirt floor isn’t actually a dirt floor, but the bottom of a metal cage covered in a thick layer of packed dirt—which falls away as the concrete beneath opens up like a massive trap door.
The whole thing shudders and everyone panics.
“Oh Goddess!” Stacey shouts.
“This is not fun! This is not fun!” Connor screams.
“We’re lambs to slaughter!” Minnie shouts. “Yeti! What do we do?”
Meanwhile, the nimpins zip around the cell, twittering wildly.
“Oh, settle down.” Damien’s voice follows us as we descend into the dark. With my heightened, panicked senses, I smell salt water. A lot of it. “You will sit in the water until everyone gives up the contraband mobile phones I know some of you keep on your person. They are just as bad as telepathy during class.”
“What!” Stacey whisper-shouts.
I glance at Yeti, who I’m sure has a Scythe-given phone, probably with all sorts of illegal matter he can’t give up to Dolores.
“There are at least four!” Damien shouts before we’re swallowed by darkness and I lose sight of him completely. “Hand them over and this entire ordeal will be forgotten.”
Us animas clutch onto each other on the metal platform, peering down into the void below. Down, down we descend, the cage shuddering and shaking until—
My sneakers splash into water.
We keep descending. The water enters our cage.
“It must be a t-tank!” Raquel shouts above the din of the other students. “C-Calm down, they won’t d-drown us.”
“Ya think so?” Stacey cries, clutching onto my arm as freezing water covers my feet and enters my shoes.
There’s more swearing and shrieking as the icy water shocks our skins. We splash around, fruitlessly trying to get away from it. But we’re still descending into the tank and groaning as the water reaches my thigh, then covers my waist.
“My balls!” Connor shrieks.
“My ovaries!” I shout back.
The nimpins shriek as one for good measure.
It’s then that I look over at Minnie only to see that Yeti has her on his shoulders, her legs dangling on either side of his chest.
The cage finally groans to a halt when my blouse balloons about my waist, leaving me shivering.
“Xander,” Yeti growls. “A little help here?”
Obsidian shackles clank purposefully from somewhere behind us. “Can’t,” comes the flat reply.
A chorus of swearing sounds from the animuses.
Damien’s voice comes from high above us, and we all look up to see a small circle of light and the shadow of a head that must be his. “If you won’t give up your illicit electric devices, I will render them inactive with the water. Fair is fair.”
“Jokes on him,” Stacey mutters, “Mine’s in my bra.”
So is mine, and Yeti palmed his to Minnie, so she has one in each cup. We’re left in complete darkness, teeth chattering, clutching to each other for warmth, for an estimated fifteen minutes before Damien’s voice sneers from above us. “Last chance!”
Stacey’s grip on me tightens. She’s the second shortest of us after Minnie. “He’s not going to—”
But he does. Our cage begins its descent anew and the water level creeps up our bodies, and I have no choice but to take my phone out of my bra and hold it above my head. Stacey has no choice but to hand me her phone and tread water, and I’m glad Minnie is safe on Yeti’s shoulders or else we’d be in trouble.
The water is at my chin, my toes bobbing above the cage floor, before we’re shrieking at them to stop for Stacey’s sake. Connor ends up grabbing our lioness, and she piggybacks him in tears. We’re all shivering now, noses dribbling, and my entire body is now numb.
“He is going to drown us,” Minnie says in disbelief from above me. “He’s actually out to kill us.”
Chapter 15
Ghoul
The Collector waits for me in the entrance hall, between two ten foot dragon stone sculptures. She wears a calf-length reptilian patterned dress, a black feather boa, and styles her black hair in a cropped, bouncy style. An old-fashioned hairdo for a beast who worships the Old Ways. A cigarette dangles from a white-gloved right hand and a red high-heeled toe taps on the black and gold marbled tile. Two of her people stand nervously behind her, round-bellied scientist avians, all but wringing their hands and pulling at their collars.
I made her wait much longer than was necessary. I’ve always loved a good game. Even so, she can’t help but sweep her eyes down every inch of my swaggering form. Even fully covered, animas can’t help but be drawn towards me. Of course, I can’t blame them.
“My lady,” I say, sweeping a smooth, leisurely bow.
She holds out a hand for me to kiss. I take it in my gloved hand, fighting the nausea, lean over it to give the back of her hand an air kiss from under my skeleton mask.
“You look well, my lord,” she purrs, eyes flashing into their yellow, slitted form and sliding down my body again. I can almost see her licking her long, serrated chops.
“Quite well,” I drawl, flashing the tips of my fangs as I grin without humour. “The smell of fear in the air agrees with me.”
While her servants shift uncomfortably behind her, the Collector’s red-lipped smile is purely reptilian as she replies with a seductive, “I’m sure.”
I turn on my heel and lead her party across the expanse of the entrance hall and down a set of shadowy steps to the lower part of the estate. She stiffens, offended that I haven’t offered her my arm. Such a funny lady.
“I trust the girl is in workable condition, my lord?” she asks as her heels clack on the stone.
I have to think about it for a second. “Workable enough.”
We wind through the old, labyrinthine corridors below the estate until we get to the set of cells that house a single leopard anima.
I open the heavy metal door by using the fingerprint scanner, and it slides open with a satisfying, modern electronic hiss. I allow the Collector and her birdies to stride through before following them in.
Two Clawson tigers sit on stools guarding the girl, springing to their feet upon our entry.
“Who the hell are you?” comes the rasping voice of the anima within the cell.
One of the Clawson tigers lunges forward and shoves his cattle prod between the obsidian bars.
“Speak with respect!” he shouts.
Sabrina shrieks and there’s a thump of her thrashing against the stone wall of her cell.
The Collector sashays up to the bars, tsking. “Dear girl, I am the one who holds your freedom in my hands.”
I step around the Collector’s birdies to survey my prisoner. Sabrina Panthera’s hair is a dirty dark brown nest around her head. Mascara and the remnants of makeup are smeared down her cheeks. She only has obsidian shackles on her wrists and ankles now, and last night I threw a linen smock at her to cover her skin. It’s the Clawson’s responsibility to empty the waste bucket in the corner, but they haven’t.
