Page 127 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
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 muscularbrutes 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. Therewasa 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 asshe. And thatshe, accordingto the nymph, intended to conquer Earth.
He met the creature’s fiery gaze again. “Is that true?”
The man bared his teeth. “Fuck you.”
