How Beauty Loved the Beast

chapter Eighteen



Jolie lobbed the grenade at Ananke’s gate, and Hauk hit the gas, sending his new cobbled-together motorbike speeding away from the explosion. Fire lit the night, the blast reverberated and the metal gate crumpled.

Jolie leaned into the turn with Hauk as they skidded a one-eighty and headed back toward the fire. She braced herself against his back. Heat flared as they raced through the gates. Ignoring the road, they headed straight for the temple steps, blasting tracks through Ananke’s perfectly manicured lawns.

The Order knew they were coming. Sneaking was pointless, so they’d decided to go in with a statement. When they had Travis safely out of the compound, Ananke’s forces would be focused on the temple, and she and Hauk could secretly double back into the laboratories for the formula.

Ananke’s temple loomed large on the hilltop, a pristine replica of The Parthenon. The sun’s last orange rays faded behind it. In front, a bull-sized brazier crackled with fire, throwing yellowed brightness on the facade and painted pediment. A double row of columns cast shadows over the temple walls. Inside, they were supposedly keeping Travis.

Hauk’s steambike roared as they rounded the brazier, drowning out the yells of the Hands of Atropos running for the temple. Jolie squeezed Hauk’s thigh. Ananke hadn’t been expecting this.

The bike jounced as they took the steps into the temple, leaving the last of the daylight behind. As Jolie’s eyes adjusted, the temple interior came into focus.

A sixteen-foot-tall statue of Ananke stood at the head, golden wings spread behind her. A black snake wrapped around her from legs to neck. A red rope dangled from her outstretched hand onto a giant drop spindle then off the spindle to the floor to wrap into an infinity sign.

Travis teetered on the goddess’s shoulder, bound hand and foot with ropes. Jolie pointed. Hauk nodded, and the bike headed for the cord. Without discussion, she knew the plan. She’d climb up and retrieve Travis, while Hauk defended their retreat from the ground.

The bike stopped and the back end flipped around. Hauk pulled his guns. Jolie leaped for the cord.

The polished marble had been pitted to look like rope, giving her the purchase she needed to climb. Bullets blasted below her. Each one shot fear into her, and she fought the impulse to turn and check on Hauk. Their chances of survival went up the faster they got Travis out.

She reached Ananke’s fingers and did a muscle up onto the wrist. Don’t look down, just run. She scampered across the outstretched arm, not giving herself time to think about the slippery fall. The head of the statue loomed in front of her, impassive disdain in her eyes. The Order believed in Fate, a future that was set and uncaring of whom She trod upon in the name of relentless progress.

A perfect goddess for her father and all of the privileged unconcern she’d grown up around. Jolie sneered as she took the last steps to Travis. She didn’t need her riches or her beauty. She didn’t want the supposedly perfect life that had been set before her. She wanted freedom, a purpose, her friends and Hauk. And if they succeeded tonight, she’d have it all.

She kneeled beside Travis, relieved to see the even rise and fall of his chest. His eyes were closed, but he stirred at her touch. “Travis. Wake up. We gotta go.”

One eye opened groggily. “Wha...”

She pulled a knife from the ankle sheath Hauk had loaned her and cut his bindings. “Can you hold on? I’ll get you down.”

Or she thought she would, anyway. The snake made sliding down Ananke’s tunic impossible.

Travis fumbled up to sitting, turned over and vomited down the side of the statue.

“My feelings exactly. Let’s go.” She tugged the belt loops of his pants, positioning them over the first snake coil at Ananke’s chest. “Can you stand if I lower you down?”

Between the pedestal and the coils, she thought she could get him close. He nodded weakly, giving her little confidence, but she didn’t see an option. She grabbed his hands, hooked her feet over Ananke’s arm and dropped backwards.

Travis yelped as she slid him over the edge. She was used to lifting and lowering people from her aerial work, but he wasn’t used to being carried. After a moment of flailing, his toes slipped on the edge of Ananke’s sandal, stretching him out like a target.

“I’m letting go,” she warned. He’d hurt himself less in a fall from that height than a gunshot wound.

“No...”

She dropped him. He slipped down Ananke’s foot, landing on his ass at the base of the statue. Jolie swung up and made quick work down the statue.

Hauk had backed the bike to them, hiding behind it and shooting at anyone who came close. He dropped a clip. Jolie hurried Travis to the bike.

“I’ll get on first,” Hauk ordered as he popped in a new clip. “Follow fast, and we can take off.” Then they’d leave Travis somewhere secure and return for the antidote.

Hauk crouched up onto the bike and kickstarted it. Jolie reached back for Travis.

The barrel of a weapon pressed into her belly. “Travis?”

His eyes were clearer now, and they didn’t register as him.

Disappointment and anger punched into her worse than a physical blow. “F*ck.”

* * *

Hauk grimaced at the sound of motors rumbling in the distance. Ananke was gathering forces, probably for a blockade. They needed to be out now if they wanted any hope of doubling back. Tally’s design was great for maneuvering, but it couldn’t outrace anything Ananke rode.

Six guards had sniper positions behind the second-floor columns. Priests entered from behind the statue to add their magical mayhem to the party. No telling what they could do. At least a dozen men were gathering around the brazier.

What was taking Jolie so long to put Travis on the bike? He risked a glance backward, and fear sank through him. Jolie had her hands in the air, eyes blazing mad, and Travis had a gun pointed at her abdomen. Those bastards had potioned him, too.

Of course they had.

Another shot clipped the bike. He kicked his foot over, dropping back behind it.

More footsteps. More Atropos were entering with the priests.

“Travis,” he said casually as he could muster. “What’s your command here, bro? I see a gun but I haven’t heard what you want us to do.”

Travis’s eyes stayed trained on Jolie. “No demand. Just holding until they get here.”

“So if I get up and take a hike...”

“I shoot her.”

He nodded grimly. Time to take a risk or lose everything. “Clockwise,” he commanded.

Jolie rotated right as he kicked Travis’s wrist the other way. A bullet shot into the statue.

Hauk grabbed the gun. “Glad I haven’t been training you,” he grunted, peeling the metal out of Travis’s hand. A knee to the gut, and Travis was on the ground. Hauk checked his wrist, praying it was the formula that had Travis playing for the wrong team.

An alpha tattoo with dangling scissors marked him as Atropos.

“Lying motherf*ckers.”

“What?” Jolie asked.

It would be a mercy to kill Travis and free him from Ananke’s slavery. The anger inside, the place where the rages came from, told him to get it over with. There was no known cure for the tattoo.

“Shit,” Jolie said. She’s seen.

She didn’t need to watch this. “Get outside. I’ll meet you in a moment.”

“Get him on the bike,” she said.

“He’s gone, babe.”

She shook her head. “We’ll figure it out.”

Travis reached for the gun. Hauk cuffed him across the temple, knocking him out. “We can’t. Get on the bike. The Underlight needs us.”

“No!”

He picked her up and tossed her on the bike, following behind. He was just big enough to start the machine with her in front of him. She struggled against him, trying to get back to Travis, but he accelerated, speeding them toward the exit. They were here to rescue their friend, not his empty shell of a body. He’d have to find a way to put Travis out of his misery when Jolie wasn’t watching. That was not a pain she needed to carry.

Chanting, unnerving and loud enough to compete with the sound of his bike, echoed in the temple. He picked up speed.

A chain rose, stretched across the temple entrance at neck height. He spun the bike so fast it tipped. Grabbing Jolie, he kicked off the ground. The bike pounded onto its side and kept sliding under the chain.

He landed on top of Jolie on the marble floor. She groaned. Hopefully nothing was broken. “Get on the bike and get out,” he ordered, hoping against sense she’d listen.

“F*ck you,” she answered. “Together.”

The sense that tonight was his final battle still ran through him in full force, but there was no way he’d take her with him. He glared up at the statue lording over them. “F*ck fate,” he told it. “Odin, get down here. We’re taking these a*sholes.”

The spirit launched into him, filling him with renewed vigor. He hopped to his feet and pivoted to see the whole of the approaching army. A gunshot slammed him in the stomach. He grinned at the shooter. “Gotta do better than that, ladies.”

* * *

Jolie peeled her aching body off the floor. “Ladies? Misogynistic a*shole, what?”

Beside her, Hauk was larger than life, zinging with uncontained energy. Once again, her nerves set on edge just being in his presence, but she was glad for the extra help.

“Hello, Odin. I would say that’s medieval of you, but...”

Hauk winked at her. Pointed at the floor.

“No.” Was she telling a god no? Was that a bad idea?

He grinned, seemingly impressed by her lack of obedience, and moved so they were back to back. Hauk had gone over the basics of fighting this way. She liked it, standing heel to heel with the man she loved, facing threats with absolute confidence in each other.

The chanting escalated. The first wave of Atropos approached, swinging their anti-magic wands. Ananke’s mind control wouldn’t work on Hauk because of the rages. If they could hit him with the anti-magic, they’d have an opportunity to activate his tattoo before he could call Odin back. She’d focus on stopping anti-magic.

The first soldier approached, brandishing his wand like a club. She let the muscle memory Hauk had drilled in to take over.

Overhead swing. Dodge back. Grab his wrist. Slam it on her knee.

He released the wand.

She stabbed him with it, and he fell to the floor, writhing as his tattoo temporarily deactivated. She returned to ready, wand up for the next one.

“We have to get Travis,” she called back. Another soldier approached, and she waved the wand, warding him off.

“He’s gone, babe.” The cries on the other side sounded like Hauk was already stacking up bodies. He’d have to keep that up for a while yet to take on this whole crew.

She couldn’t stand that those bastards had given Travis the tattoo. The idea of somebody taking him over was an unbearable crime she couldn’t think about right now. But that wasn’t the only problem. “He knows where the Underlight is. He can tell them how to find us. Make me a path. I’ll hit him with this and get him to the bike.” Travis would be nearly comatose after a wand strike, but at least he’d be on their side.

Hauk’s breath came out frustrated and harsh, but he did as she asked. “Duck and run.”

Jolie dropped to a crouch. A body swung over her, arcing into nearby soldiers. She scrambled until she was out of the press then shot into a sprint.

“Travis!”

He pushed himself uneasily from the foot of the statue, leaning forward as if he was about to puke again. Poor guy had been through a lot. She was about to send him reeling again.

Hopefully his body could take it.

She skidded to a stop and slapped the wand across his arm. A burst of light, and he howled. She kneeled beside him, using the statue for partial coverage. “Travis? Gonna make it, buddy?” Please...

He blinked. The glassy determination cleared from his eyes. “Jolie?”

“Our ride’s that way. Gotta move.”

She tried to pull him up, but his fingers dug into her collar, pulling her back. “Can’t. Tattoo. They gave me...”

“Yeah. I know. We’re taking you back anyway. Don’t try protesting, and let me know when you need me to zap you again.” One arm under his shoulders, she half carried him across the room.

In the oversized doorway, Hauk fought from the bottom of a pack. Men clambered around him, leaping and clawing like animals.

Jolie struck out with the wand, dropping as many as she could.

Travis started to shake again. “Jolie...I can’t...”

She hit him again. He yelled in agony and dropped to his knees. Her gut twisted in equal parts sympathy and panic. This run was looking more futile by the moment, but thinking that way didn’t help. She shoved the wand into his hands. “Make sure you get out.”

“But—”

“You need to get out before you tell them what you know. No matter what. Get out.”

His eyes widened in understanding, and he crawled toward the exit, ignored by the Hands. He crossed the entrance to the temple and stumbled on the steps. Slow but steady progress took him toward the shadows outside.

“Hauk. Let’s go!” She swiped another wand from the ground and stabbed it into the nearest Hand, working her way around the crowd until she was in the doorway.

The chanting stopped. Echoes lapped around the room and faded, leaving eerie silence behind. Jolie took a nervous step out of the temple. The room lit up in a pure white light that ended at the door, as if it couldn’t cross the threshold. The pile of fighters collapsed to the floor in a screaming mass of bodies.

“Hauk!” She reached for him.

An arm locked around her waist, pulling her back. “Beat me this time, bitch.”

Ric, the guy who’d murdered Cassie. Rage roared through her. She shot her elbow back for a face strike.

He stepped to the side, and another set of hands grabbed her. Two men stretched her between them. She picked her feet up, dropping her weight. Instead of falling, they lifted her up.

Ric laughed. “They spent so long relying on magic. Finally the priests realized sometimes the best thing is to blow all of it.”

The white light wasn’t magic; it was anti-magic, contained by the temple walls. Ric and his compatriot had been planted outside to avoid getting hit.

“Hey Haukon,” Ric called. “Look what we’ve got.”

Hauk, depleted of Odin’s powers, gouged his way through the pile of screaming humanity. His wounds bled and his face was grim. He saw Jolie and shoved harder, knocking everyone aside.

Jolie pointed her toes, trying to regain her balance, maybe throw one of her captors into the light. But they held her aloft, just high enough that she couldn’t find solid footing.

Ric raised a gun. “And we’re tired of trying to make nice.”

Time slowed as the gun steadied in his hand. “No!” she screamed. The air left her lungs as his finger closed on the trigger

The rapport exploded into the night, deafening her.

Hauk jerked with the impact and fell backwards onto the pack.

Cold shock ripped through her, shooting prickly numbness from her core to her fingers. “No!” she screamed again, “Hauk!” He’d been shot before. This was no different. He’d get up.

But he didn’t. He breathed in pained gasps and crashed down on the seething pile of bodies. Blood pumped in angry gushes from a bullet hole at his throat.

Heart thundering, Jolie wrenched at her captors’ hold. “Get up!” she screamed at him.

Priests strode forward, carrying rope, ignoring their own soldiers writhing at their feet. Grant Barrett and Pierce MacArthur, a friend of her father’s, marched at the head.

Her struggle turned feral. If Hauk couldn’t get up, she had to get to him.

At a nod from Pierce, priests bound Hauk’s feet with ropes and tossed the ends out the open door. Jolie was thrown to the ground. Marble jammed into her wrists and knees, shocking her stiff joints.

Ric and the other Hand picked up the rope and heaved, jerking Hauk forward by his ankles. His body rolled over the rest of the fallen Atropos and slammed to the temple floor.

Jolie scrambled up the slick stairs to him. Shuffling as he moved, she bore down on the gunshot wound trying to stanch the flow. His blood streamed hot and thick around her fingers.

Too fast. He was losing it too fast. “Call Odin. Get him back here.” This was not the way it ended.

He tried to speak. Blood bubbled from his mouth, but no words came. His hands shifted sideways, urging her to leave.

The suggestion made her angry. “F*ck that. I’m staying with you.” His waist tipped over the steps, and she lifted his head, keeping it from slamming onto the marble, as if a potential concussion was the biggest problem. Her blood-soaked fingers cooled in the chill air and left crimson fingerprints on his phoenix tattoo. Her tears swelled with each step. “Call Odin! Make him heal you!”

He burbled something into the blood seeping down his chin. His eyes rolled back in his head. The movements of his hands grew weaker.

Her whole body went cold. “Wake up! Odin, get your ass down her! Wake the f*ck up!”

Nothing changed but the growing crackle of fire.

The inexorable progress down the steps ended in front of the brazier.

More Hands swarmed forward, each grabbing onto him with the eagerness of bullies preying on the fallen. She shoved the nearest.

Arms encircled her again, yanking her back. “You don’t want to go where he’s headed, hotness.”

They lifted Hauk and carried him closer to the blaze.

She understood. Her stomach plummeted. She slammed her head back into Ric’s jaw. He grunted but didn’t let go.

Blood coursed down Hauk’s torso from gunshots and stab wounds. His fingers jerked with each slow gasp. The Hands carried him closer to the heat.

They tossed him into the blaze.

“Wesley! No!” She clawed at Ric, struggling to get to the pyre. Hauk did not die like this. This was not the end.

It took four men to force her to the ground. Cold metal locked around her wrist. The Hands left, and she ran toward the fire. She couldn’t get close enough. She scratched at the cuff on her wrist, tearing into her skin. She barely felt it. Nothing mattered if she couldn’t get him out of that brazier.

A cry, almost eagle-like, tore into the night. Hauk’s mouth was open, his eyes bulging wide as fire once again consumed his skin. The stink of burning flesh assaulted her, and she retched on the steps. Her muscles quivered, ceasing to function at her command.

Another cry.

Hauk went still. Smoke rose from his body, almost birdlike as it swirled gracefully into the night.

Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto her ass. Blackness threatened her vision, but she willed it back. Blackness meant giving up. She would not give up on Hauk.

But he didn’t move. She pushed her hair from her face, dragging cold blood across her cheek and streaking it in her hair. Hauk’s blood. Her clothes were sticky with it, her hands coated in drying scarlet. Bile filled her mouth as shaking overtook her. The fire continued to rage, the stink growing unbearable. Tears obscured her vision as pain stripped her bare and flayed her.

Hauk was dead.