Those Wonderful Toys: Preternatural Chronicles Book 7 (The Preternatural Chronicles)

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Those Wonderful Toys: Preternatural Chronicles Book 7 (The Preternatural Chronicles) Page 32

by Hunter Blain


  The overwhelming desire to weep began to surge from my chest and into my head, focusing on my eyes as the release valve to free the building pressure.

  Locke let out a weak groan, and I turned my face away, wiped my nose with the back of my tattered arm, and took his hand in mine, my IV bag of silver liquid in contrast to the clear saline of his own.

  The enchanted silver was dissolving any latent magic and residue within my body, allowing my arm and leg to start healing. I’d asked them if they had any enchanted blood I could drink, but they’d pointed out that the Council had never needed to heal a vampire before and didn’t have any magic blood lying around. I was just impressed that the silver running through my veins didn’t kill or even hurt me. If anything, I felt better as my wounds began to close.

  As soon as the last of the IV bag was empty, I would need to go into the sun and heal.

  “Heh,” I laughed to myself.

  “Whaaaaaat?” Locke slowly hissed, trying to open his eyes.

  “Oh, I just realized that I need the sun to feed off of now. And...and it’s funny to me. Ya know, ’cause I’m a vampire.”

  “Heh,” Locke said slowly as his eyes opened.

  “Glad to see you’re still with us, man,” I said to my friend while clasping his hand.

  Locke scrunched his face in confusion as he moved his head on the pillow and looked down to where I held his hand.

  Then his eyes drifted to mine, and something seemed to click.

  “Where’s Depweg?” he asked weakly, looking all around the room and groaning as he moved his eyes too quickly.

  I lowered my gaze to the floor and slowly shook my head.

  “Is he...is he de—”

  “I don’t know,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear him finish the question. “I couldn’t find him, and we had to get outta there.”

  “What happened?” Locke asked after several silent moments, deciding to let the topic of our missing friend drop.

  “Pretty sure we blew up an entire army of were-pires.”

  “Oh, well, that’s good, at least,” Locke said, and I could tell he was trying to force a positive tone...but was failing.

  “Once I heal, I’m going back out there to find him,” I promised, raising my stern gaze to meet Locke’s. I set my jaw and stared with determined eyes.

  “I know you will,” Locke said softly.

  Changing the subject, I asked a nagging question.

  “Hey, um, how did you, ah, throw the bomb into the fourth dimension? Didn’t know you could do stuff like that, dude.”

  Locke let a weak smile lift his lips, which were heavy with pain and grief, and then slowly raised a finger to point at his missing eye.

  “Oh, good! You’re up,” Nurse Isaac said as he entered the room, slightly catching us off guard.

  He walked over to us, first inspecting Locke by shining a penlight into his remaining pupil before checking both of our IV bags.

  Looking down at the hole in my leg that was almost healed, he said, “Looks like you’re gonna get to keep your leg after all.” He had a shit-eating grin at his own joke, and I decided I liked the guy.

  “When can I get out of here?” I tiredly asked.

  “Well,” he started as he inspected the healed flesh on my arm. “Technically, you can leave anytime. But I would recommend taking at least a day to rest. Heh, get it? Day?”

  “I want to laugh, I really do,” I told Nurse Isaac. “I’m just too damn tired.”

  “So I guess you are answering your own question then, huh?” he said, never losing his charming smile.

  In the theater of my mind, I heard an audible scream of, “Depweg!” that sounded suspiciously like my own voice.

  “I need to get back out there,” I sternly said, standing up with a groan while pulling the IV out of my arm. The tiny hole healed instantly, and I took tentative steps toward the door.

  “Do you even know how to get back?” Locke croaked from his bed.

  Turning to my friend, I saw Nurse Isaac handing him a cup of water that had been on the table next to the bed.

  Locke wrapped dried lips around the straw and audibly sucked several gulps down.

  “Easy. Easy,” Nurse Isaac suggested as he pulled the cup away.

  At the entrance to the OR, I rested my head on the cool metal frame of the door and sighed.

  “No,” I answered. “No, I don’t know how to get back.”

  “I can have someone show you,” Nurse Isaac cheerfully said. His positive attitude was draining at the moment.

  “Thank you,” I replied lamely as I rubbed my eyes while my forehead still rested on the cool metal frame.

  Nurse Isaac, satisfied with his patient’s progress, made his way past me and down the hallway.

  “What are you going to do?” Locke asked. His voice sounded more solid now.

  “Find him,” I said in answer, willing the words to be true.

  “Hand me my stuff,” Locke requested, pointing to the plastic bag sitting on a table near the wall.

  “No, Locke. You need to rest, man.”

  “Just hand me my damn clothes.”

  Turning my head, I saw the serious expression on Locke’s face and decided not to argue.

  Taking a breath and letting it out in a long sigh, I made my way over to his personal belongings and tossed them over to him.

  Catching them, he riffled through the items until he found what he was looking for.

  “Here,” he said, holding out the nine-inch nail.

  I stared at it for a while before shaking my head.

  “No. You hold on to it. I, ah, think you’ve earned it.”

  “No, I mean, use it to track the nail that Depweg had. Hopefully he’ll still have it. Or, worst case scenario, you don’t leave such a powerful artifact just lying around.”

  I stared at Locke’s hand for a few moments, taking in the significance of the nail and what he was asking.

  Letting my gaze slide up to meet his, I said, “No. Get better and find the nail yourself. I...I need to find Depweg.”

  “John,” Locke said softly, letting his hand drop to his lap. “Either the mortals have him or Satan does...if he’s not...you know...” His voice trailed off, and he was no longer able to keep my gaze, letting his focus drop away from my eyes and to the nail in his hand.

  “Or he’s dead,” I finished, my voice cracking as I tried to keep my jaw steady.

  Without looking at me, a pained expression crossed Locke’s face as he slowly nodded his head in agreement.

  “I’ll join you as soon as I can,” he promised, making a fist around the holy relic in his palm.

  “I know you will,” I said before abruptly stepping into the hallway, not having the strength to withstand the conversation any longer.

  I didn’t know where I was going, and I didn’t care. As was my MO, I would eventually figure it out...I hoped.

  43

  With my hands clasped behind my back, I walked at a pace that was somewhere between casual and determined. I knew what I had to do, but I was terrified of what I might find.

  The scene of Stripe being blown to pieces like a sandcastle before a hurricane played in my mind, drying my mouth and tensing my throat.

  I fought the urge to sprint down the corridors until I found a doorway labeled “That Destroyed Warehouse Park in Germany,” knowing it wouldn’t be that easy.

  A scowling man in a fancy red cloak shuffled past, intentionally not making eye contact with me, which telegraphed something was afoot. I recognized him from when I had stood before the Council the first time with Hayley.

  At that moment, I couldn’t care less about the man, and continued down the hallway, pondering my next move.

  An obvious idea came to me, making me pause in midstep, and I closed my eyes, picturing Depweg.

  Grabbing the scene around me, I pulled...and nothing happened.

  I pulled again, harder this time, but with the same outcome.

  Gritting my te
eth, I grunted as I yanked for a third time, which yielded the same results as the first two.

  The notion morphed, and I pictured the industrial park in my mind and pulled.

  The scene around me slid away, and I was left standing in what looked like a war zone.

  To add a tick in my win column, at least the mortals had left in the time I had been with Locke, leaving me to search in peace.

  A frown etched itself into my face as I looked down at a crystal that had been fastened into a necklace with a leather strap that was far too long. Eyeing the jewelry, I saw that it had broken apart more than once before.

  I pocketed the crystal and continued my search.

  Eventually I located my friend’s clothes, which he had yanked off before shifting. They were in a pile, and I reached down to snatch up the tank top and pants. Something crinkled in one of the pockets, and I pulled out a letter I recognized.

  To Deppyweg was written on the front in my terrible handwriting. It stole my breath to look at, somehow making the situation that much more real.

  Turning it over, I saw that the seal hadn’t been broken yet, and I frowned.

  Dragging my finger just under the lip of the seal, I opened the envelope and pulled out the single piece of paper. I already knew what it said, and could easily view it within my eidetic memory, but I needed to read the actual letter for a reason I couldn’t explain to myself.

  Hey, buddy,

  Hope all is well with you and junk. I’m pretty good, just in case you were wondering how I was after you TOTALLY freaking ripped me in half. Dude! That was nuts! But, thanks to my epic healing, I can still confidently wear a bikini.

  But seriously, brother, I want you to know that I totes forgive you. I only hope you can return the favor and forgive me for making you lose control.

  While you are on vacay in Faerie, TayTay has promised to help you tame the beast inside your mind. I know it won’t be easy. Believe me, dude. Been there, done that. But I believe in you. Always have.

  So, until we meet again, I say...well...I actually don’t know what to say. I’m not good at this kind of thing. Can we pretend I said something, like, really touching? But not too touching. It still needs to be manly. Manly touching? Oh, wait...that’s worse. Shit! Why don’t pens have erasers? I mean, I could just go back and write a whole new letter...but I don’t wanna. Fuck it.

  Just come back to me, brother.

  —John

  I stared at the letter, understanding why Depweg had tried to talk to me about what had happened. I thought he had already read the letter. It had been two damn years! A feeling of unease made my chest tighten as I thought that I might never get to let him know we were cool. Such a simple thing, letting someone know you forgave them completely for their transgression.

  Unease evolved into full-blown anxiety as I stuck the letter back into the envelope and pocketed it. I was taking shallow, shuddering breaths at the realization that, if he was dead, my guilt would be multiplied to the point where I honestly think I might go insane.

  I inhaled a sharp breath in preparation for a scream of I forgive you! but let only air hiss out instead as a scent caught my attention. I began excitedly sniffing the air.

  “Depweg?” I called out, trying to follow the scent.

  Standing near the office building was a man cloaked in the shadows cast by the early morning sun.

  A breeze kicked up, and the aroma of a were tickled my nose from the direction of the stranger.

  Narrowing my eyes, I made a beeline directly to where the man was leaning against the brick wall near the hole I had created with my graceful moves.

  As I approached, the man looked over at me before uncrossing his arms and pushing himself off the wall. He took a few steps forward and into the light, revealing a Hispanic man of average height and build. A scar ran down one side of his face.

  “Who are you?” I asked, sensing he was a were judging by his smell. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m looking for Depweg,” the man said in English but with a Spanish accent to it.

  “Why?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes.

  “There are so few of us left.” As he spoke, I allowed myself a look at his aura and saw it was yellow, just like Depweg’s.

  “How did you find us?” I asked, taking a step forward as I gave off the aura of someone you wouldn’t want to lie to.

  “Would you believe me if I said an angel told me?” the man chuckled as he spoke.

  “Gabriel?” I asked, letting my guard down as I remembered Ben and Meli being led by my archangel friend.

  “I didn’t think to ask his name.”

  “O...kay?” I grumbled before reminding myself that angels spoke almost exclusively in vagaries. I did a mental checklist; he was a werewolf, said an angel sent him just like Ben and Meli, and was looking for a fellow were. “John Cook,” I introduced myself, taking a step forward and extending my hand.

  “Jose Villalobos,” the man said, taking my hand and shaking.

  We began walking in the direction of where I thought Depweg might have been thrown, and I asked, “Can I ask why you want to find him?”

  “I owe him,” Jose said softly, “and I’d like to pay him back.”

  The End

  Epilogue

  “Why are you doing this?” Ruak the troll wheezed from where he was chained against a stone wall in a dimly lit, filthy prison.

  The beautiful man in white stepped into the light, amber eyes all but glowing.

  “You brought this upon yourself when you gave into your greed, child,” Samael informed. There was no pleasure in what he was saying.

  “Where’s Ghle?” the young troll asked with wide eyes.

  “That’s not what is important right now,” Samael replied through an exhale.

  Raising his hand as he opened his fingers, the chains around Ruak’s limbs fell apart, dropping the troll to the ground.

  “What...what are you going to do to me?”

  “Me? Nothing,” Samael answered honestly. “It’s Magni you should be concerned with, considering you killed his beloved.”

  Ruak froze in place as he registered the man’s words, then he began to tremble all over, starting with his hands and moving up his entire body.

  “No...” he hissed as tears began to flow.

  “And when Magni takes your life, he will cement his destiny,” the man said before waving his hand through the air.

  Ruak gasped as he was transported somewhere he didn’t recognize.

  The dank smell of the prison was replaced with fresh, albeit humid air. Ruak recognized the place to be Midworld, but that was the extent of what he knew.

  Looking all around, he saw what appeared to be a sizable mansion set in a clearing, and began hesitantly walking toward it.

  In the pool, Ruak scrunched his face as he saw the silhouette of a bearded man wearing a beanie.

  Epilogue Part Two

  White smoke wafted off of a beaten, battered, and blackened Ulric, who limped into a reading room the size of a warehouse. Row after countless row of ancient books filled the air with a pleasant aroma.

  In front of a crackling fireplace sat a table with a chessboard that appeared to be in the middle of an intense game.

  Samael sat comfortably in his red chair, staring into the dancing flames of the fireplace while he pressed pursed lips with steepled fingers.

  As carefully as he could, Ulric eased himself onto the other chair, silently wincing as he moved.

  The general of Hell’s army waited patiently for his master to acknowledge him, not wanting to interrupt his contemplation.

  Samael eventually inhaled deeply, breaking himself from the unflinching gaze of the fire, and looked at Ulric expectantly.

  “What have you to report?” Samael asked, his mind clearly still on whatever Ulric had interrupted.

  “The trials were a success, my lord. I do believe we are ready for the final stages.”

  “Excellent,” Samael exclaimed
, seeming to give his full attention to Ulric at the good news. “Begin injecting your army with the solution. I want them ready within three years. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, my master,” Ulric bowed slightly as portions of burnt hair fell from his charred skull, catching the attention of both men.

  “He’s more powerful than you thought, isn’t he?” Samael asked, amusement in his eyes.

  Ulric straightened in his chair, doing his best to not glower at his master as he said, “I will continue to become more powerful with each move I make, my master. John will kneel at my feet before this story is over. I will not rest until he is in Hell, where he belongs.”

  “On that, we agree,” Samael concluded softly as he let his amber eyes drift to the dancing fire again. “Go now. Prepare your troops and leave me be.”

  Ulric let out a silent groan as he stood up and made his way out of the Lord of Hell’s private room.

  Samael’s calculating mind dove back into the unfathomable depths of thought that only someone who had helped create the universe could reach as a long exhale slipped between his lips.

  “Three years,” he whispered to himself while shifting his focus to the seemingly cluttered chessboard.

  John returns in 2021 in CRACK THE SKY

  MAKE A DIFFERENCE

  If you enjoyed this Urban Fantasy eulogy for Sir John Cook1, would you consider leaving an honest review? Every genuine review means the world to me, and helps new readers find my books.

  It only takes five minutes, and it can be as short as you like.

  Review Those Wonderful Toys

  Thank you in advance for giving John unlife after death. The series dedicated to my bromego will be 13 full novels with a handful of novellas and short stories for good measure. So until next time, John On!

  1 John is not actually knighted

  Dedications

  Firstly, I’d have to dedicate this entire series to my unalive bromego who promised if he ever died, that he would haunt me by humming the theme to Mario Brothers for the rest of my life.

 

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