Page 83 of Night in a Waste Land

“Excellent idea, sweetheart,” Beck said, smile returning. “Get your soldier stitched up. I’ll take this back.” He hefted Shubert’s limp corpse – or, weakened body? – over toward the windows.

“Beck!”

He glanced back over his shoulder, wings low so their eyes could meet.

Her chest ached. “Beck. What are you now? What are you really?”

He tilted his head to that new, birdlike angle that wasn’t quite the same as it had always been.

Different, Morgan had warned.

Yes, yes, he was different.

“A little of this, a little of that,” he said, sing-song. “But mostly…you heard the man. I’m King Arthur.” His fangs flashed. “Welcome to my Round Table, at long last.”

Then he gathered his burden, and leaped, head ducking. His horns broke the window, and it shattered in a dazzle of flashing crystal shards as Beck jumped out into the rain, his wings unfurled, and he disappeared into the darkness.

THE END

To be Continued…

~*~