The Beast Within (The Elite Series) Read online

“I’m sorry, Connor, we had limited time before the Council was called. Maybe I should have told you about your father, revealing you as the answer to the prophecy was a spur of the moment call. Christof was presenting a solid argument and I needed something to throw him off. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “Of course, I just want some answers about my father. What happened to him? Is he alive?”

  Laren answered his last question first. “Yes, he is. Your father was a great warrior and years ago rose up as a Judge when our race needed him. He brought unity to our people and calmed a storm that would have soon consumed us. The facts are told differently in the human world. You would know the disaster your father saved the world from as the Cuban Missile Crisis. He was a hero, well-loved and respected by everyone.” Laren hesitated, unsure how to relate the rest of the story.

  “Until he fell in love with a human and threw it all away,” Lu said in between bites, a ham bone in one hand and a large bread roll in the other.

  Morrigan shot him an intimidating stare.

  “What? That’s what happened.”

  Laren shook her head at her brother. “Your father, Caderyn, fell in love with your mother. He knew the Law forbade it, he did it anyway. He was able to hide this from the Council until you were born and then the cat was out of the bag.”

  Morrigan took up the story. “Your father left you because he loved both you and your mother. Rather than see either one of you hurt, he revealed his actions to the Council. As you can imagine, the meeting did not go well. Because of his years of faithful service and his honesty, your life was spared. He was still punished, however. He was sentenced to live out his remaining days in a secret Elite penitentiary.”

  “All these years I thought he abandoned us.” Connor was dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to feel, let alone what to say. He was always under the impression his father didn’t want him, not that his father loved him so much he sealed his own fate to save him.

  Laren wrapped her arms around Connor. She could only imagine what he was feeling right now. He hugged her back. Morrigan took her cue to leave and joined Lu at the table.

  “I can’t even begin to understand what you’re going through right now. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, Connor, with whatever you need.”

  “I know you are, thank you.”

  They separated and joined Lu and Morrigan at the table. He was starving, and rather than sit and dwell on the newly discovered information that was bound to lead to more questions, he ushered these thoughts out of his mind, took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and threw himself into one of his favorite pastimes—eating.

  The feast provided for them was amazing. It was like Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners rolled into one. Turkey, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes; vegetables, salads, dinner rolls, and cranberry sauce were all present and accounted for. The conversation soon turned back to the trial and speculations on what would happen next.

  “The Council has to rule in favor of accepting Connor as a Judge, Morrigan. He plays too much of a role in everything that happened to deny it,” Laren optimistically pointed out.

  “I certainly hope so. The fact that Connor was able to kill an Elite and handicap another certainly works in our favor. I can’t remember the last time a human was able to do that.”

  “I agree,” Lu chimed in. “I think they’ll consider Connor’s claim as a Judge. And convicting Faust and Randolph should be easy, especially with the other half-blood’s statement.”

  “The other half-blood?” Connor’s face dawned with recognition. “Katie! Katie’s here?”

  “After her run-in with Faust, Katie was turned. The Council couldn’t allow her to simply go on her way, and instead opted to bring her here for the trial, anticipating she would have vital information,” Morrigan said.

  “Well, then how come she wasn’t at the trial today? Why didn’t you call on her testimony?”

  “I will, if it’s necessary. What’s more important is that the Council sees you for who you really are.”

  Connor ignored the last part. “Is she okay? Can I see her? Where is she?”

  “She’s fine, Connor. Katie is here in the castle. You are not permitted to see her yet.”

  Connor bit his tongue. He wanted to say more even though he knew it would be pointless. He also stole a glance at Laren, who was toying with her peas aimlessly. He wondered if his concern for Katie bothered her.

  The rest of the meal went well. At least it did for Connor. There were no more epic revelations of his past or amazing disclosures about his future. After everyone ate as much as they could, Connor wanted to know more about the perks of being an Elite.

  “I don’t feel very different. I mean, I feel great, just not superhuman great. Is that normal?”

  Lu laughed. “Yeah, it’s not like you’re going to start flying around like Superman. You’re still the same person. You just have an—an overdrive mode now.”

  “What Lu is trying to say,” Laren cut in, “is that you have to tap into that inner drive that’s there for you now.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “By concentrating,” Morrigan explained. “Like anything else, it’s a muscle that has to be exercised. Here.” She grabbed the ham bone from Lu’s mouth, wiped it on her napkin and handed it to Connor. “Break it.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t done with that,” Lu replied, wide eyed and still hungry.

  Connor took the bone from Morrigan. It was a foot long and an inch thick. He felt pretty confident about his odds. Grabbing it at both ends, he was stopped in his tracks.

  “Break it with one hand, Connor.”

  “One hand? You want me to crush it?”

  “You can do it. You just have to concentrate,” Laren encouraged him.

  “That’s impossible.”

  Without a word, Lu grabbed a sterling silver dinner knife handle in his left palm and squeezed. His hand shook ever so slightly under the pressure. He furrowed his brow in concentration. At first it looked as though nothing was happening, but then he released his grip and handed the knife over. Connor was amazed to see indentions where Lu’s hand had held the knife. Four grooves marked the place where Lu’s fingers warped the silver.

  Connor, shaking his head, readjusted his grip. This time he grabbed the bone around the middle with his right hand. He zoned in on his target and concentrated as hard as he could. Tightening his grip, he released every ounce of strength he had. He could feel his face turn red, and his arm and hand began to shake under the pressure.

  “I can’t. It’s too strong.”

  Before anyone could offer advice there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” Morrigan invited.

  In strode one of the FBI-looking guards. He explained flatly, “The Council is requesting Mr. Moore’s presence.”

  “Very well, we’ll be right there.”

  “Only Mr. Moore is required.”

  Connor stood up from the table and gave his companions a reassuring nod. “I’m sure I’ll be back soon.”

  “Be confident and honest, Connor,” Laren warned him. “That’s the only way any of this is going to work.”

  Connor followed the guard.

  “He’ll be fine,” Morrigan said, looking at Laren.

  “I think the kid will be more than fine.” Lu walked around the table and picked up the bone Connor had tried to break. He offered it for examination. Almost hidden to the naked eye were thin fractures in the bone.

  CHAPTER 12

  CONNOR FOLLOWED THE STOIC GUARD. His companion’s countenance was far from comforting. Since leaving the room, the stranger hadn’t offered so much as a smile. The guard was walking rapidly, making Connor half run at times, to a section of the castle he was unfamiliar with. Instead of rooms and multiple doors on either side of long halls, this section had stone flooring and suits of armor, long past their prime, lining the walls.

  This part of the castle seemed older. Connor licked his lips, the air was damp. Soon the
hall came to an end, opening into the biggest banquet room Connor had ever seen. The room he had dined in with Laren, Lu and Morrigan could have fit in this one eight times. Everything was made of stone; huge stone pillars lined either side of the area, and four gigantic fireplaces roared their warmth, strategically placed in the corners of the room.

  In the center of the room, the five members of the Council lounged at a small table. It seemed as though they just finished their own meal and were conversing among themselves. From afar they looked like a group of old friends sharing a bottle of wine. Much to Connor’s surprise, there were even smiles and laughter ringing out from the group.

  Connor got closer and the family leaders composed themselves, all eyes on him.

  “Connor Moore, as the Council requested,” the guard said with a bow.

  “Thank you, Kale. You are dismissed,” Laren’s father responded.

  Bowing out of their presence, the guard left. Connor, nearly forgetting the custom, sank to his knees, his eyes studying the stone floor.

  “Oh get up. If you’re the savior the sorceress says you are, you have no business kneeling to us.”

  The speaker sounded German and reminded him of Faust. Connor looked up to see two strong blue eyes and an honest smile. The man who spoke to him was somewhere around the age of Laren’s father, his receding hairline made him easily recognizable as one of the two Council members who had not spoken at the trial.

  “Oh, let him be, Raban. He’s confused enough.”

  Raban looked at Thema with feigned reverence and a smile. “As your majesty wishes.”

  Thema rolled her eyes at Raban and smiled. A simple purple dress flowed freely around her body and a golden chain hung loosely around her neck.

  “So, Connor Moore. Are you the savior of our people?” The question was blunt, one they were all thinking, including Connor. It was directed at him from the final member of the Council. He was leaning against a pillar. Connor could see his shorter-than-average height, his close-cut black hair, what Connor could see clearer though, were his bright amber eyes.

  Be confident and honest. He heard Laren’s advice play again in his head.

  Still dressed in his suit, minus the black jacket, Connor felt bare against their shrewd expressions. He forced himself to stand straight and look them in the eyes. “I don’t know if I’m the savior that Morrigan says I am. Until today, I didn’t even know who my father was. A week ago, I had no idea a superior race existed secretly among humans.”

  He paused, mentally kicking himself. Come on, Connor, this isn’t the way you want to talk to people who hold your life in their hands.

  There was no going back now he had to finish. “What I do know is that if I am this savior, I will do everything in my power to live up to my name. Whatever strength I have, whatever power flows in my blood, will be sworn to fulfilling the prophecy.”

  There was a silence in the room that lasted far too long for Connor to feel comfortable. Did I say too much? Did I not say enough? Maybe I should have just told them I am the savior and be done with it.

  It seemed like an eternity before someone spoke. “Well said, Mr. Moore,” Laren’s father congratulated him. “You were wise not to lie. We can sniff out a liar a mile away—one of the perks of living for hundreds of years.”

  “Well, we know he’s not a liar, but is he the Judge of the prophecy?” Morrigan’s brother pounded his fist on the table in disgust. “It’s almost impossible to know.”

  “Ardan does have a point,” the blue-eyed Raban chimed. “If he doesn’t even know he’s the Judge, how are we to know?” Raban scratched the remaining blond hair he had and shook his head.

  “Can a half-blood be a Judge?” the question was asked by the amber-eyed Council member, who was studying Connor intensely. Although he was the smallest member of the Council, he by no means seemed inferior. He was garbed in a light orange shirt and pant combination, resembling the garments monks wear in monasteries.

  His eyes never leaving Connor, he continued his train of thought, answering his own question. “If we are to believe Morrigan Hayes, and we have no reason not to, then we have to believe he is the prophesied Judge and a half-blood can be our savior.”

  “Morrigan has never been wrong before,” Thema mused. “We don’t have any reason to doubt her now. What do you think, Ardan? He comes from your Family line.”

  Ardan shook his head and let out a sigh. “The Moores have always been one of our greatest houses. The Judges originated there and one has risen up every time we were in need, but why now? Why would a Judge be given to us at this time? There is no impending doom, no great war to fight. What darkness is he meant to vanquish? Surely not the culprits of the trial we now face, we don’t need a savior for that.”

  Laren’s father, who had been silent for much of the conversation, made his way over to one of the large fires that crackled quietly, providing warmth to the room. He stared into the flames as though they were speaking to him. His green eyes looked sinister against the glow of the fire’s light.

  “Unless there is a gathering doom that we are unaware of.”

  The room fell silent as the other four Council members mused over their leader’s words. Things in their world had been peaceful since the Cuban Missile Crisis. There was no reason to suspect there was any impending doom.

  “Are you referring to anything specific, Adolpho? Don’t keep us in the dark,” Raban said.

  Adolpho shook his head, still looking into the flames. “No, nothing specific I can explain, but you must all feel it. A sense of doom, an unnatural chill that comes with the night.”

  “I have felt it,” Thema confessed. “I was unwilling to recognize it due to my own misgivings—I can be honest now. There is something happening. It has been much too quiet for much too long. Tian? You have a gift for knowing the order of things. What do you think?”

  The small man leaning against the pillar nodded in agreement. “The spirits of our ancestors are restless. As to the exact reason, I do not know.”

  A look of foreboding replaced Raban’s easy-going expression. “Adolpho, you don’t think that they—that He—could be back?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s slow down here. To say that my sister has never been wrong is one thing. To say there are ancient evil forces returning to the realm of men and elite’s is extremely different,” Ardan exclaimed.

  “Connor.” Adolpho turned his eyes from the fire to address their guest. “Would you mind excusing us? There is a guard outside that will lead you back to your chambers.”

  “Of course.” Connor made a bow like the guard had when he first arrived and turned to go. He could hear the Council continuing their conversation as he left. He was too tired to think about what they could have meant or what they would decide. He’d done the best he could. Worrying about it or trying to guess what their decision would be would get him nowhere.

  Exiting the room, he came across a guard further down the hall, just as Adolpho had said. Thinking quickly, Connor walked past the guard not saying a word. The man gave him a questioning look as he passed, though didn’t move to stop him.

  A few seconds later, Connor was by himself for the first time in what seemed like days. It was a great feeling. He resolved to search for Katie. She was probably scared and confused. With no one to talk to or explain what was happening, things would only get worse for her.

  Where am I going to start? The castle is massive and I don’t even know how to get back to my own room, much less find Katie’s. Okay, instead of thinking about how much I don’t know, I need to focus on the things I do know. I know I’m on the ground floor by looking out the windows. Katie wasn’t a prisoner, she was a witness, so more than likely they would give her a room like mine and not a cell.

  Connor decided to avoid searching the main floor, from what he had seen, it was mostly large banquet rooms or meeting halls. That left him with the second, third and fourth floors to explore.

  Finding the nearest set of st
airs was easier than he thought. Exiting the great hall, he was met with a large staircase to his left. Connor took the stairs two at a time and started his search on the fourth floor.

  The fourth floor was decorated much like the rest of the castle. Wood floors were blanketed with colorful carpets and it seemed as though there was either a window or a door every ten or fifteen feet. If Katie was held as a witness, Connor guessed there would be a guard outside her door.

  Walking the halls, he ran into more than one person going about their own business. On these chance encounters, he gave them a winning smile, nod, and tried to avoid eye contact. So far it had worked, except for one older man who had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Connor and said: “Hey, aren’t you that guy on trial?” Connor kept walking before the man could ask more questions.

  Connor used a trick he’d read somewhere for not getting lost in a maze. He made every single right when faced with the choice. This way he couldn’t get lost and would eventually be led back to the staircase.

  After twenty minutes of what seemed a brilliant plan, he started to second-guess himself. It was warm on the fourth floor and he rolled up his sleeves as he walked by the portraits of smiling men and women.

  “How big is this place?” he muttered to himself, scratching the back of his head.

  Just as he was about to turn around and begin his search on the second or third floor, he rounded a corner and smiled. At the end of the hall was a guard standing at attention by a door. Connor jumped back around the corner and out of sight. He hadn’t actually figured out how he was going to get the guard away from the door upon reaching it.

  He pursed his lips and scrunched his eyebrows, searching for a plan. Deep in thought, he looked around the long hall searching for something—anything—that might be able to help him. There was nothing. Nothing his teenage mind considered valuable, anyway; no stun guns, no smoke bombs, nothing of use. He could try to persuade the guard to let him by. However, after contemplating the serious demeanor of the guards, he quickly discounted this idea.