Page 128 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species

“Transform, creature,” the Righteous said.

The reptilian’s eyes widened. “I’m no clown.”

Nikolay sighed. Shaking his head, he strolled to the wall and grabbed the crimson-covered bat leaning against it. The metallic stench emanating from it reached Constantine even across the distance.

The Righteous clutched it in his baby hand and dangled it before the reptilian. “I asked once…”

The bat collided with the reptilian’s stomach. When his body contracted in pain, he cried out, “Fuck you!”

Babyhand hit him one more time, aiming for the kidney. “Transform!”

With palpable effort, the reptilian raised his head between his shoulders and hissed. The Righteous struck again, and again, and again. The man cried out, his muscles bulging. Constantine frowned when the skin all over his body shifted to a toad-like green, with spots widening into patches that covered his entire torso. His features lost their sharpness, his nose flattened, and his hair vanished. When he hissed at the Righteous after the next strike, a red bifurcated tongue protruded from between his lips.

The Righteous stepped back, giving Constantine a sly smile. “You’re welcome, my friend.”

Constantine took his time to survey the creature. It was… a totally different species from everything he’d seen.

“Time’s up, necromancer,” the Righteous interrupted his perusal, nodding at the guards to open the door.

Before Constantine could ask another question, he was ushered out into the corridor. He didn’t protest. Showing too much interest wouldn’t be wise.

When they headed back to the dance floor, he was stillprocessing the transformation he’d just witnessed. Mikhail and the rest would love to hear about it.

“How did you catch him?” he asked.

“I didn’t. He came to me on his own. After you told me about those guys with the ‘cure for regeneration,’ I warned all my boys to be on watch for strange offers. A few nights ago, one of them overheard some oddball hanging around, asking young lycanthropes if they’d be interested in a means to unlock their secondary form. In exchange, they’d have to do a simple job.”

“What job?”

“To injure themselves just enough to be admitted for surgery at the Hospital.”

“That’s it?”

“After that, they were supposed to receive further instructions. At least, that’s what one lycanthrope told my boy. Of course, my boy came straight to me with the story. We had his friend point out the stranger on the cameras, and as soon as he tried to step into The Seven Horses last night, we caught him.”

“Last night?” Constantine asked.

The Righteous pointed a finger at him. “I couldn’t call you until I verified my catch was the real deal, could I? Now that I’ve proven I actually have a reptilian, you’ll probably want to take him to the Hospital so your pompous friend Korovin can start interrogating him?”

“Something like that.”

“Hmm…” The Righteous scratched his temple. “But I also need a guarantee that I’ll get something in return.”

“So, my apology isn’t what you wanted after all?” Constantine replied with feigned disappointment.

The Righteous laughed. “No, but it was a good start. What I really want is for Mikhail Korovin to come to me in person and invite me to join the Council. Only then will I know I can count on him in any situation.”

Constantine’s lips curled. So, the ass wasn’t so much of a fool to reduce everything to a wounded ego and an apology. He sought power. “I took your hand, but Mikhail will take your head if you piss him off.”

The Righteous didn’t flinch. “And then he won’t get the reptilian. I’ve given my men instructions: if anything happens to me, they’ll kill the reptilian on the spot.”

“Of course.” Constantine gritted his teeth. “Fine. I’ll pass your demands on to Mikhail, but I can’t guarantee that when he arrives, you’ll get the invitation you want.”

“The stakes are too high for you to stick to your pseudo-moralistic views, don’t you think? We’re all going to burn in Hell, anyway. I expect Korovin here at 5 a.m., just before dawn.”

Constantine didn’t respond. He was tempted to slit the idiot’s throat, to watch his soul rise, seeking salvation, and right when it thought it had escaped, Constantine would swallow it and spit it straight into Hell. Then the Righteous would see that “burning” would be the best thing that could happen to him there.

But Constantine couldn’t consume souls – not anymore.