Читать книгу The Untamed Beast - Kate Donovan - Страница 5

Over the past nine weeks, Rick’s life had gone from normal to bizarre. His body had gone from physically fit to powerfully built; his love life had gone from enjoyable to animalistic; and his golden-brown eyes had turned to coal. At first, he had thought it was his imagination. Then he had suspected some sort of disease that mimicked steroid use. Finally, he had realized it wasn’t just his body that was changing. His even temper had all but disappeared, replaced by a hair-trigger aggression that could erupt at any time. So far, he had managed to keep it under control, but at this rate, he might actually kill someone if he didn’t get answers soon.

So now he stood on the porch of an herbalist who called himself Hogan and who claimed to have the very information Rick so desperately needed. After scouring medical journals and finding nothing, Rick had stumbled upon Hogan on the Internet by searching for sites that discussed changes of eye color during adulthood. There had been hundreds of hits, but only Hogan had presented the phenomenon in the context of simultaneous changes in build and temperament. That had been encouraging, and so Rick had ignored other, less auspicious aspects of Hogan’s site. Herbal remedies? Cleansing auras? Crazy bullshit that Rick had laughed at for almost twenty-nine years.

He couldn’t afford to laugh any longer. He wanted his life back, now more than ever. The hours he had spent with Megan had reminded him of the simple joys life had to offer—the sound of a woman laughing, the feel of her skin, the warmth of her gaze. He had taken such things for granted in the past, but if he could get a second chance, he’d never underestimate the power of such moments again.

But not with Meg, he reminded himself ruefully. By now, she hates your guts. Poor kid. She deserves better. I just hope she finds someone soon who can give her what she needs—for more than a night.

He had done his best to restrain himself with her—to make love like a man, not an animal, one last time. Still, there had been such fire, such passion, such spirit in their lovemaking, that they had worn each other out, falling asleep in each other’s arms. They had never had a “normal” conversation,” or any conversation at all. Rick had gathered up his belongings and snuck out of the room just before dawn. No note, no flower on the pillow, no hint that they’d see each other again.

He suspected that their night together had been an adventure for her. Maybe even an awakening. But for Rick, it had been an ending, pure and simple. The monster growing inside him would soon make that kind of lovemaking impossible. After that, he didn’t know where he would turn. To prostitutes, maybe? No, even they didn’t deserve to be used as satisfaction for unnatural lust. He could only hope his descent into depravity would never be so complete that he’d inflict himself on unwilling victims, but given the progress of his disease, could he even be sure of that?

Reminded of his mission, he knocked on the door of Hogan’s cliff-side home. Almost immediately, a well-built, middle-aged man with wisps of gray in his hair and full beard appeared, greeting Rick enthusiastically and insisting that he follow him to a redwood deck, where they seated themselves at a wrought-iron table.

“I know, I know. You have a million questions,” Hogan said with a warm smile. “I’m sorry I made you travel so far, but we really couldn’t do this over the phone. And anyway, I had to see for myself. You understand?”

Rick nodded. “Don’t worry about it. I just need answers. And quickly.”

“It’s almost complete,” Hogan agreed, leaning forward and lifting Rick’s eyelid to get a better look. “They were brown originally?”

“Light brown.” Rick cleared his throat so that his voice wouldn’t sound menacing. “What do you think it is? And when you say it’s almost complete, what does that mean?”

“You are approaching your twenty-ninth birthday?”

Rick nodded. “It’s tomorrow.”

“Well, then…” Hogan sat back, his expression sobering. “There’s no time to waste. Although, ironically, once tomorrow comes, you’ll have all the answers you need, anyway. With or without me.”

Rick scowled. “What does that mean?”

“It means, everything that is happening to you is happening for a purpose. Tomorrow that purpose will be revealed to you. The same way it was revealed to my father on his twenty-ninth birthday.”

Rick’s frustration lessened. “Your father?”

Hogan nodded. “He was a Guardian, just like you. But unlike you, he had more time to prepare. Nine years, not nine weeks. By the time he found out what was going on, he was ready—physically and spiritually. To him, it was an honor. For you, it must seem like a nightmare.”

Rick stood and began to pace. “Any chance you could get to the point? I’m a guardian? And it’s an honor? What the hell are you talking about?”

Hogan surprised him by laughing. “You’ll need to master that temper. Dad always said it was the hardest part. That and the aggression—wanting to rip someone’s throat out if they cut him off in traffic. But in time, he got it under control, and so will you. It’s your destiny. Plus, you have something my father never had. You have me to guide you.”

Over the next few hours, Hogan explained the facts to Rick, who was alternately horrified, intrigued and disbelieving. It was crazy enough to hear that other men had gone through this process and had actually been proud of it. But to hear that the phenomenon was a spiritual one? To be told that Rick was a guardian of all that was good and decent in the world? That was the most unbelievable part of all, especially because he had been so sure he was becoming a wild beast—maybe even being possessed by a devil!

According to Hogan, the spiritual universe was divided long ago into three strata. The Upper Realm became the domicile of spirits who had been tested and found to be good. The Lower was reserved for those who had proved themselves to be depraved. The Transitional—or Middle—Realm became a testing ground for still-evolving spirits, to see where they should be sent for the rest of eternity. Each spirit would be born into a human host. The choices made by that human would decide the fate of its spiritual self. The only way for a human spirit to move from the Middle Realm to the Upper or Lower was through death.

Passage from the Upper Realm to the human world was more fluid. An Upper Realm spirit was given the ability to enter the Middle Realm and briefly inhabit the body of a human, assuming that the human consented. This became a rare and highly prized event in the history of man, and a great honor to the host body.

Unfortunately, a Lower Realm spirit was also given the power to inhabit the body of a willing human host. And unlike its Upper Realm counterpart, the Lower Realm spirit—or demon—invariably had malevolent intentions and would wreak havoc upon all humans, spreading misery and depravity to an unimaginable extent. Because of this, the human world was given additional protection—a buffer zone—to deter invasion from below. Not only would an evil spirit need to find a human host, but it would be required to pass through the buffer first, where it would be met by a Guardian of the Middle Realm who would attempt to bar its passage.

“The greatest honor a human can experience is to be inhabited by an Upper Realm spirit. And the second-greatest honor is to be appointed Guardian,” Hogan assured Rick. “At any given time, there is only one Guardian who has reached his so-called maturity—the nine years when optimal physical prowess co-exists with sufficient life experience. In other words, my father turned twenty-nine and took over the post on the very day his predecessor turned thirty-eight and retired. Meanwhile, some other young man was turning twenty and beginning the nine-year process of maturing into a Guardian.”

“Except for me, it only took nine weeks,” Rick muttered. “That doesn’t fit your story.”

“Obviously, something happened to the existing Guardian—”

“And there’s only one at a time? That’s nuts. If it’s such an important job, why not have a bunch of guys ready to go at a minute’s notice?”

Hogan hesitated, as though needing to choose his next words with extra care. “The Guardian has the fate of the world in his hands—his alone. If he knew there were others who could step in…well, that might undermine his focus. Make him less willing to sacrifice his life.”