Laurent and the Beast (Kings of Hell MC 1)

Beast shot at it. Once. Twice. Three times. It fell into the mud with a sickening scream of wounded metal, and he watched, his breath shallow and fists tight.

“Where are you?” he asked quietly, slowly turning around to take in the dark shadows where King could remain hidden from Beast’s wrath.

Hound circled the fallen bike, sniffing it even when thunder made him sink lower and bristle, as if danger was imminent.

The columns of trees provided shelter to shadows hidden just beyond the arch-like branches, and when Beast spun around, confused by the tricks of light and darkness, it almost felt like he was surrounded by architecture, not nature, and every spot that the weak glow wouldn’t touch could hide a monster about to get him.

Beast panted, sensing his heart speeding up by the second, and when something bright flashed at the front of the building, he spun around, ready to fight. Lights were on in King’s apartments in the second floor. The tall window was the frame to showcase the handsomest of monsters, whose dark silhouette moved languidly, as if King had all the time in the world.

Beast’s phone rang.

He picked it up frantically, noticing that it was already half past eleven. Where had all that time gone? It seemed like just a minute ago he’d had two hours until midnight.

The line creaked, but the low voice that sneaked into Beast’s ear was clear as day. Even King’s voice was somehow deeper, throatier, tainted by greed. “I’ve waited for this so long.”

Beast could feel his pulse even in his gums, and he raised his gun, shooting at the window.

The shadow flinched away from the glass that burst into shards, but then King laughed into the phone like a maniac. “I can feel you’re weak. Can you even climb the stairs to get me? You have no idea how amazing I feel now. I think I actually got a boner.”

Beast stepped forward, but his body swayed, as if pushed by invisible hands so suddenly he almost tripped over his own foot. Catching his breath, he made himself run back into the house, and yet the fact that holding on to a wall provided such comfort was already filling Beast’s heart with worry. The first firearm was out of ammo, so Beast dropped it to the floor. He had no time to find spares.

“Fuck you. I know what you are. You’re not getting away,” he growled into the handset, pushing past the door. The presence of Hound, whose barrel-like body moved past him and rubbed against Beast’s knees was more of a relief than he would have wanted it to be.

He could do this. The old staircase that would lead him straight to King was only a few steps across the hall, snaking around the gruesome gargoyle statue like a serpent. He took a deep breath and forced himself to move upstairs, knowing he could be watched. He wouldn’t give King the satisfaction of seeing him struggle.

Each step was a challenge to Beast’s legs, which seemed to have turned into lead. Never in his life had he felt so weak. The ground called out to him, and with his mind becoming cloudier the higher up the stairs he moved, a haze settled on his eyes. The last time he’d felt anything close to this was when he awoke from his surgery and the general anesthetic was still present in his veins. He wished to just curl up and rest, even if for a little while, but he knew that the moment he let himself lose focus, a moment of weakness would turn into eternal rest unrest.

The bannister seemed to move its black, snake-like body away from his grip, and when he finally got to the landing, he almost expected it to hiss at him. He would not let this devilish building suck all the will to live out of him. Laurent’s sacrifice needed to have meaning. Beast had promised revenge, and he would unleash it on all the monsters hiding in the walls if it killed him.

King exhaled somewhere above Beast. “I have to say, keeping all these secrets to myself was exhausting. The constant arguments with your mother about why we couldn’t just leave here, why I didn’t want you to go away to college, yada yada. I always get my way, and I must say that the energy I drank from you this past hour seems even stronger than after your mother died, and that one was exquisite, if I do fucking say so myself.”

It was like a punch to the gut, and Beast’s damp boot slid off the edge of the step, making him stumble and fall hard on one knee. Hound moaned and pushed its soft muzzle against Beast’s neck, unaware of the depth of the horror that was unfolding around them. Beast knew King hadn’t been a good husband to his mother, but talking of her death in terms of something pleasurable was beyond anything he could have imagined.