47
At The Seven Horses, the usual crowd of drunken immortals was thick enough to block the path to the Righteous’ throne. Not that it deterred Constantine.
Nikolay’s last message had been short and to the point: I caught a reptilian. Come now. Given the last conversation he’d participated in with Mikhail, Constantine hadn’t wasted any time.
Under the dim lights, Babyhand was a walking cliché – a thick cigar wedged between his thin lips and two voluptuous blondes pressed against him on either side of the booth.
With a dismissive wave, he sent the women away, and they, like obedient little lapdogs, swayed their hips in unison and descended the stairs to the dance floor, blending into the faceless crowd.
The Righteous sank into the leather sofa and nodded towards the vacant armchair. “Hello, my friend.”
Constantine was too tired for pleasantries, and he didn’t plan to stay long enough to take a seat. “I’m not your friend, Nikolay. What do you have for me?”
The Righteous flashed a broad smile, revealing a perfect set of teeth. “The question is, what do you have for me, my friend?”
“Fine. If that’s how you want to play it. Where’s the reptilian?”
The Righteous exhaled a cloud of cigar smoke. “For starters – stop standing there. You’re blocking my view of the naked nymph on the bar.”
Constantine decided the meeting would end sooner if he just played along. He took a seat in the empty booth. “After so many years spent in this dump, I thought you’d be tired of cheap whores.”
The Righteous laughed, holding the cigar at the corner of his mouth. “Cheap whores? Someone’s mother must not have loved him, huh? All women deserve respect, necromancer. As do partners.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“In my room, there’s a reptilian. Tied up, helpless, ready for interrogation – just like you wanted. The Righteous doesn’t joke, my friend. But before I give you this little gift, I need something in return.”
Constantine didn’t flinch, yet the muscles in his neck tightened. “I’m listening.”
“I want an apology, my friend. An apology!”
“An apology?”
“Exactly. An apology – from you and Mikhail Korovin – for sticking your noses into my business for years. An apology for the constant threats, and for showing up here two months ago with yet another round of them, only to cut off my left hand. As you can see, it hasn’t healed as well as the right one. ”
Constantine narrowed his eyes on his companion’s hands. Nikolay hadn’t mentioned the hand at their previous encounter. So, why bring it up now? Something must have changed.
“And, by the way,” he added, leaning forward to put out his cigar, “tell Korovin he owes me nearly twelve million euros.”
Constantine barely stifled a laugh. “Twelve million euros, you say?”
“My losses since I caved and cut my organ business in Sofia.”
Constantine glanced towards the crowd on the dance floor. “I’ve always wondered how you’ve managed to get away with it for so long…”
The Righteous waved his hand. “It’s all a game, my friend. When many interests are at play, there are many possible moves. One must know when to strike, when to hold back, and when to apologise.”
“All right.” Constantine turned his attention back to the fool, deciding to humour him. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you.”
The Righteous clapped his hands together. “Good! Very good.”
Constantine rolled his eyes. “Now, let’s get to the point. How did you catch this reptilian?”
The Righteous tapped his fingers against his pursed lips. “You know, this isn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. I expected it to be harder for you to apologise.”
“I don’t have any ego problems.” Constantine stood, keeping his expression cool. “Now show me this reptilian. Otherwise, I might think you missed me so bad, you’ve started sprouting tales just to get me back here.”
The Righteous guffawed. “You’ve caught me in a good mood, necromancer. So, I’ll settle for your apology. Let’s go!”
He jumped to his feet and started down the stairs with a dance-like step, singing along to the voice blasting from the speakers: “‘You got, you got the devil inside you, you set the church on fire… You got, you got the devil inside you… The devil inside you…’” At the bottom of the stairs, he called out to the bodyguards. “Van! Gog!”
The two burly men cleared a path for him through the dance floor.
“Van and Gog?” Constantine raised an eyebrow.
“Easy to remember, eh?” The Righteous grinned, striding through the club like a superstar. To the patrons at The Seven Horses, he was the king of twisted desires and forbidden pleasures, and his crazed fans swooned over him.
They made their way to the back, where several dimly lit booths offered privacy for special guests – like two muscular brutes locked in a passionate embrace, their tongues entwined.
Without breaking the kiss, one of them eyed the newcomers, his gaze lingering too long and suggestively on Constantine.
In another booth, a group of nymphs raised their glasses in a toast, singing and swaying to the rhythm of the music.
The Righteous led him to a stainless-steel door. One of the guards unlocked it with a thick key hanging from a chain around his neck, revealing a pale blue corridor illuminated by fluorescent lights.
Even before they reached the end of the corridor, Constantine caught an unfamiliar, salty scent. The Righteous wasn’t lying. There was a reptilian here somewhere.
Another door opened into a small storage area.
A naked man hung from a meat hook in the ceiling, his wrists bound above his head and his feet dangling limply.
Tiny black spots dotted the bulging muscles of his thighs and arms. His head lolled to one side, and his face, partially obscured by dark chestnut hair, showed no signs of life.
The Righteous’ voice came behind Constantine. “You wanted a reptilian – here he is.”
At his words, the creature raised his head and fixed Constantine with a stare full of disdain. Blood had dried and formed crusts at the edges of his mouth.
“And how did you conclude this one is a reptilian?” Constantine asked, not taking his eyes off the creature’s black pupils.
The Righteous spread his arms wide. “Don’t you see the spots? Can’t you smell the stench? Can’t you feel the hatred in his eyes?”
Constantine tilted his head, studying the reptilian. “The spots could be magically enhanced tattoos. The smell is unusual, I agree, but I can’t be sure it belongs to a reptilian since I’ve never met one before.”
The Righteous grunted. “We’ve got trust issues, eh, necromancer? I understand…” He moved closer to the reptilian. “Speak, creature. Tell my friend what you told me.”
The reptilian’s eyes locked onto Constantine as his lips moved. “I was… deceived.”
“Who deceived you?” the Righteous pressed.
The reptilian’s face twisted into a grimace of disgust. “The Queen.”
“What queen?” Constantine asked.
The Righteous laughed. “He claims some queen sent him on a mission, then abandoned him here and took off.”
The reptilian shifted his angry eyes towards him. “Not her. Sevar…”
“Ah, yes! The captain of your war band.” The Righteous grinned.
Constantine stepped closer to the stranger. “What’s your name?”
The man’s jaw twitched with tension before he ground out, “Branko.”
“What species do you belong to, Branko?”
“To the Great Species,” he said with an inexplicable pathos, as if he weren’t hanging naked from the ceiling but holding a sword and charging across a battlefield.
Constantine narrowed his eyes. “Never heard of it.”
The creature curled his lips into a spiteful smile. “I’m not surprised.”
The Righteous glanced at his lavish Franck Muller watch, custom-fitted to his wrist. “Time is money and I’ll save us some by summarising his story: he claims to belong to a great race that will conquer Earth and turn everyone else into black dust. I don’t know about his story, but one thing’s for sure – he’s a reptilian. ”
Constantine took in the information with a neutral expression, though his mind raced. Elisanda Grace had mentioned an accomplice she referred to only as she . And that she , according to the nymph, intended to conquer Earth.
He met the creature’s fiery gaze again. “Is that true?”
The man bared his teeth. “Fuck you.”
“Transform, creature,” the Righteous said.
The reptilian’s eyes widened. “I’m no clown.”
Nikolay sighed. Shaking his head, he strolled to the wall and grabbed the crimson-covered bat leaning against it. The metallic stench emanating from it reached Constantine even across the distance.
The Righteous clutched it in his baby hand and dangled it before the reptilian. “I asked once…”
The bat collided with the reptilian’s stomach. When his body contracted in pain, he cried out, “Fuck you!”
Babyhand hit him one more time, aiming for the kidney. “Transform!”
With palpable effort, the reptilian raised his head between his shoulders and hissed.
The Righteous struck again, and again, and again.
The man cried out, his muscles bulging. Constantine frowned when the skin all over his body shifted to a toad-like green, with spots widening into patches that covered his entire torso.
His features lost their sharpness, his nose flattened, and his hair vanished.
When he hissed at the Righteous after the next strike, a red bifurcated tongue protruded from between his lips.
The Righteous stepped back, giving Constantine a sly smile. “You’re welcome, my friend.”
Constantine took his time to survey the creature. It was… a totally different species from everything he’d seen.
“Time’s up, necromancer,” the Righteous interrupted his perusal, nodding at the guards to open the door.
Before Constantine could ask another question, he was ushered out into the corridor. He didn’t protest. Showing too much interest wouldn’t be wise.
When they headed back to the dance floor, he was still processing the transformation he’d just witnessed. Mikhail and the rest would love to hear about it.
“How did you catch him?” he asked.
“I didn’t. He came to me on his own. After you told me about those guys with the ‘cure for regeneration,’ I warned all my boys to be on watch for strange offers.
A few nights ago, one of them overheard some oddball hanging around, asking young lycanthropes if they’d be interested in a means to unlock their secondary form.
In exchange, they’d have to do a simple job. ”
“What job?”
“To injure themselves just enough to be admitted for surgery at the Hospital.”
“That’s it?”
“After that, they were supposed to receive further instructions. At least, that’s what one lycanthrope told my boy.
Of course, my boy came straight to me with the story.
We had his friend point out the stranger on the cameras, and as soon as he tried to step into The Seven Horses last night, we caught him. ”
“Last night?” Constantine asked.
The Righteous pointed a finger at him. “I couldn’t call you until I verified my catch was the real deal, could I? Now that I’ve proven I actually have a reptilian, you’ll probably want to take him to the Hospital so your pompous friend Korovin can start interrogating him?”
“Something like that.”
“Hmm…” The Righteous scratched his temple. “But I also need a guarantee that I’ll get something in return.”
“So, my apology isn’t what you wanted after all?” Constantine replied with feigned disappointment.
The Righteous laughed. “No, but it was a good start. What I really want is for Mikhail Korovin to come to me in person and invite me to join the Council. Only then will I know I can count on him in any situation.”
Constantine’s lips curled. So, the ass wasn’t so much of a fool to reduce everything to a wounded ego and an apology. He sought power. “I took your hand, but Mikhail will take your head if you piss him off.”
The Righteous didn’t flinch. “And then he won’t get the reptilian. I’ve given my men instructions: if anything happens to me, they’ll kill the reptilian on the spot.”
“Of course.” Constantine gritted his teeth. “Fine. I’ll pass your demands on to Mikhail, but I can’t guarantee that when he arrives, you’ll get the invitation you want.”
“The stakes are too high for you to stick to your pseudo-moralistic views, don’t you think? We’re all going to burn in Hell, anyway. I expect Korovin here at 5 a.m., just before dawn.”
Constantine didn’t respond. He was tempted to slit the idiot’s throat, to watch his soul rise, seeking salvation, and right when it thought it had escaped, Constantine would swallow it and spit it straight into Hell.
Then the Righteous would see that “burning” would be the best thing that could happen to him there.
But Constantine couldn’t consume souls – not anymore.
He returned to his car and sat behind the wheel for a long time without starting the engine. Something gnawed at him, but he still wasn’t sure what it was.
If he brought Mikhail here, would they all leave unharmed, with the reptilian in hand?
***
An hour later, the dashboard clock read 1:37 a.m. Constantine picked up the phone and called the Righteous. “Mikhail will be here at 5 a.m. You’ll get what you asked for. In exchange, we want the reptilian alive and unharmed.”