Page 135 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
The engine of the black Norton motorcycle roared like a menacing beast while the tyres picked up speed down the slope. The road didn’t allow Zacharia to go too fast, but the sharp turns, where his body leaned low over the asphalt, offered enough adrenaline to distract him from the puzzle driving him mad.
He loved unravelling mysteries, but the threads of this latest one seemed more elusive than the river flowing beside the road. They had a missing mummy, proof of their presence at the temple. But could a mummy be considered evidence? How could anyone prove that their mummy and the one that had vanishedfrom the temple were the same?
Zacharia leaned his body to the right, navigating another turn. His thoughts matched the movements of the motorcycle under him, shifting left and right with the upcoming curves, trying to find a different angle to assess the situation.
He supposed that if he were to learn more about the Horned God, he might uncover the kinds of sacrifices made in his honour. That, in turn, might shed more light on the mummy’s identity. With more information about it, he could better figure out a motive for the theft. And the motive would point to the culprit.
Zacharia hit the brakes, coming to a full stop by a green meadow on the side of the road. He removed his helmet, resting it against his bike.
Who was the Horned God?
His images marked the rocks and served as a marker to get to the temple, but he wasn’t a devil. He was called that because he resembled the Devil in human religions. In the immortal world, the Devil didn’t exist. Unfortunately, neither did the Horned God. The only mention Zacharia had found of him had been in a book. A quick two-liner saying it was a deity worshipped by the Beduin tribe.
Zacharia furrowed his brow. If he wanted to find out more, he needed to speak with someone from the Beduin tribe.
He was just about to continue his way to Sofia when his cell phone went off. As he pulled it from the inside of his leather jacket, a shiver of warning ran down his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
The plain display read:Mikhail K.
The manticore’s voice was an angry growl when Zacharia answered. “Tell me you’re not at the Hospital!”
“The Iskar Gorge,” Zacharia said.
“Good. The Hospital is under siege. Armed reptilians andhumans are all over the courtyard—”
Zacharia started up his bike. “I’m heading there now.”
“No!” Mikhail shouted. “Don’t come here under any circumstances! I need you to act from the outside. Find—”
The line went dead. Zacharia tried calling him back, but hit only a robotic voice: “The number you have dialled cannot be reached at the moment. Please try again later.”
A thousand fucking devils!
***
Viktor removed his dirty gloves. His breathing eased now that the last autopsy had shown nothing unusual.
Ever since he’d learned about the König impersonator, he couldn’t think of anything but the general. He longed to pick up his trail. To stalk him. To pin him against a wall. To make him bleed, both inside and out. To ask him how he knew about the Kreiss Hunters and Cristiano König. How he’d found out about the immortal species. How many more creatures he had harmed.
He craved to dig his claws into him. To gut him. To gouge out his eyes. To tear off his arms. While he was still breathing.
Viktor stormed out and slammed the door of the autopsy room behind him. He imagined catching the general and inflicting upon him all the suffering he had caused others.
Act, you cowardly bastard!
Viktor paused in his steps and rested his forearm against the wall, burying his head under it. The animal inside him pounded in his chest, fierce and untameable. It struggled to break free and seek vengeance.
Viktor possessed a perfect sense of smell, a predator’s instinct, a menacing animal form, and was filled with bottomless hatred. He could catch the general much faster than the Tribunal’s agents.
Then what are you waiting for?
No, he didn’t want to sink into Vaka Hara. Not again…
But it’s so nice there. Pleasure without sin. And blood, lots of blood…
Viktor straightened from the wall, determined not to give in to temptation. He had promised Mikhail, Alex, and Grigor – he had promised himself. Running, he reached the other part of the basement that served as a parking lot. Instead of taking the side stairs, he headed for the car ramp. He sprinted as if someone were chasing him, in a desperate need to exhaust his body.
A second later, he was outside.
