James Axler by Reality Echo (v5)

Author:Reality Echo (v5)
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2010-09-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

The touch of Bres’s fingertips on her chin made Epona’s skin tingle. Whatever power resided in this near-immortal golden being, a mere caress transferred the depth of the power she was dealing with. It was no surprise to the granny witch. He laid hands upon outcasts and rebuilt them as he saw fit, pulling horrors from the depths of their being and placing them on the surface. Bres lowered his hand from her face, and Epona’s head swum as if she’d just been unplugged.

“Don’t disappoint me, witch,” Bres said, his voice icy. “I will make hell seem like a release if you do.”

Epona shook her head. “I’m searching for Kane.”

Which was a lie, of course. She’d locked on to him almost immediately, familiar with his emotional signature. It took her a few moments to find a mammal or a bird in the vicinity that hadn’t been frightened off to the high hills by the avalanche and make contact with him, but finding him had been easy. Bres didn’t need to know that, however. The strain that brought out the wrinkles in her forehead could as easily be scouring the mountainside as the exertion needed to send through messages to the lone Cerberus explorer.

Still, Epona knew that she was playing a dangerous game. She’d watched Bres take one of the Fomorian womenfolk and recarve her into an exact duplicate of Epona. That, plus the tingle of his touch on her unmutated skin, added up to the simple fact that she had to look as if she was making progress.

Epona didn’t want to know how far her bones could be stretched and her flesh melted until she considered death a pleasure rather than a punishment. As if Bres could read the fear in her features, he smiled.

Had it not been Bres, the expression would have been warming. He was a beautiful creature, and such emotion on his face seized her heart with romantic headiness that she hadn’t experienced since she was a young girl. Her every instinct was to mate with this perfect, finely crafted example of masculinity and power.

But there was the knowledge of Bres’s true nature.

His outsides were immaculate, irresistible. His thoughts, his lusts, his deeds, however, which lurked beneath the skin, were a litany of horror and torment toward humanity across the millennia. Bres was pure, living evil, cast in solid gold and polished to the point of gleaming brightness.

Bres granted power and sought only cruelty. His “children” lived to inflict pain. They didn’t hunt for food; they hunted for sport, for fun. There was no reason for them to track down prey and brutalize it. The Fomorians weren’t stupid and could craft spears or bows and arrows with which to take meat with human swiftness, but no. Epona had felt firsthand the horrors of what various animals had experienced. This wasn’t hunting; it was torture.

She could hear the laughter coming from the mutants as they took their time ripping living flesh off their victims. Epona hadn’t been

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