Page 23 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
“Who’s the other guy?” Zacharia asked.
“Tough Bo.”
“I think I’ll bet on him.”
“You sure? The last time he took such a punch, his brain probably turned to jelly. They say he swings the wrong way sometimes now.”
“I’ll take the bet.” Zacharia wasn’t invested in the fight itself but needed something to do until morning, when he’d catch a stagecoach to Bromwich Castle, then through Chester to London, where he planned to check out a private witch market. He didn’t intend to buy anything but was curious about the secrets the witches were hiding.
His senses soon detected an unusual scent, unmistakable for an immortal. Zacharia scanned the room, spotting him immediately. A man whose presence demanded attention. He wore fine linen with intricate embroidery, a pretentious wig, and a golden-trimmed shirt. The air around him was thick with arrogance. Beside him was a woman whose beauty rivalled the most enchanting of the time. They sat two seats away from Zacharia. Despite his heightened senses, the manticore seemed oblivious to his surroundings, absorbed in his self-importance.
The night wore on, and Zacharia almost forgot about the manticore until he overheard his companion’s desperate pleas. “Release me, master! Please, do not enslave me to cannons and false morals!”
Zacharia cursed his acute hearing, which often caught such distressing details. His innate inquisitiveness drew him into trouble, and tonight was no exception. He glanced at the woman, whose face was etched with sorrow.
The manticore grasped her hand. “Silence, harlot! Every word from you is blasphemy.”
“Do not hurt me again, master,” she pleaded. “Is this the justice of your god? To inflict pain and restriction…”
“One more word and I will scourge you!”
Zacharia sighed. He wanted to ignore the scene, but somethingcompelled him to intervene.
“Please…” Her voice trailed off, but Zacharia could still hear her. The raucous laughter of the pub drowned out her cries, leaving her distress unnoticed by others.
“Shut up, whore!”
Zacharia placed his glass on the bar and approached them. “I get the feeling you’re disturbing the lady.”
The manticore’s eyes glowed with a peculiar golden hue. “I assure you, the lady is in good hands,” he said and turned his back.
“Doesn’t seem that way to me.”
The manticore didn’t even look at him. “You’re pestering us, hybrid.”
Despite the term being a potent insult, Zacharia was unfazed. “I’m not leaving without her.”
The manticore’s laughter radiated haughtiness.
“Truly, it’s all good,” the woman said, her sorrow replaced with a subtle smile. She was obviously too afraid of angering her master further.
Zacharia folded his arms and widened his stance. “Now, why don’t I believe that?”
“If you don’t back off, I’ll beat you senseless.” The manticore raised his chin, as if fighting a hybrid was beneath him, but he would do it anyway.
And this was coming from a man in a wig.
Zacharia was not a confrontational person and he didn’t like to be in the limelight, but he had a stubborn streak. The manticore’s superiority complex and sheer arrogance at displaying his wealth among mortals – even if it threatened the revelation of the immortal world – was rubbing him the wrong way. Add to it that he was also a Neanderthal with women and a zealot, judging by his words, and Zacharia was more than happy to educate him. With his fists.
“Let’s go outside and find out,” he said.
The manticore raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“All right, then.” The manticore smiled and said to the woman, “I’ll be right back.”
Zacharia doubted the woman would wait for him, given how badly the manticore had treated her. To his surprise, she clung to the manticore’s arm. “Please, Mr. Korovin. Don’t act like children!” To Zacharia, she said, “Thank you for trying to help, but this isn’t what it seems. It’s a scene from The Last Infidel. My troupe is performing for the Korovins tomorrow. Mr. Korovin insisted we go out tonight, but I couldn’t join him because I had to rehearse. So he promised to rehearse with me…” She indicated the script on the bar. “I didn’t expect anyone would overhear…” Her smile suggested she was flattered by the manticore’s attention, not disturbed.
