Knightmare: Nate Temple Series Book 12

by Shayne Silvers

  I looked over to see Callie now holding her actual Mask. “Go on, Nate. Stop standing in your own way. You think you’re protecting them, but you’re just robbing them of their dignity.”

  I flung open the satchel and grabbed the two remaining Horseman Masks. I held them in my hands, staring at them.

  I cleared my throat. “The reason I didn’t want to give them to you is because…I always meant to give them to you,” I said. “It’s like you found your Christmas presents early and opened them.”

  Alucard grinned widely. “I knew it!”

  Gunnar grunted. “Could have fooled me. I remember asking very nicely and getting slapped the hell down.”

  I nodded. “I didn’t want to put your kids in danger. I have issues when it comes to family stuff,” I admitted with a shrug. “I didn’t want to paint a target on your back.”

  Gunnar was silent for so long that I looked up. He was shaking his head with a sad smile. “Who cares if you paint a target on my back? No one will ever see it.”

  I frowned.

  “I’ve already painted a target on my chest, Nate. I face my problems head on. Always. Who gives a shit about my back?”

  I found myself nodding. “Yeah. Okay. You should write that one down. It’s pretty good.”

  Callie was nodding.

  I lifted the Masks. One was gold and one was green. Justice and Absolution. Both were made of the same quartz-like stone.

  I handed the green one to Alucard. “Absolution,” I said solemnly.

  He accepted it reverently, his smile replaced by a deeply thoughtful expression as the Mask stuck to his fingers, making him gasp.

  I had many reasons for choosing this Mask, but I didn’t want to taint his own self-discovery. That was important. Just like I hadn’t told Callie anything about Despair.

  I’d picked that up from the Biblical Four Horsemen. They each had their own origin stories, something deeply personal that they could rely upon in moments of darkness.

  We were a team, but there was a reason each Mask had its own name. I’d let them get familiar with the Masks before we held our first team meeting.

  I flung the golden Mask at Gunnar. “Justice.”

  He caught it, grinning wide. I saw a sigh of relief escape his lips as it stuck to his palms. He trailed his fingers over it, grunting.

  I absently wondered if Alice had known Gunnar would become Justice. Because she had tied golden ribbons in his hair in Fae.

  And she had tied silver ribbons in Last Breath’s mane, which was fitting if he became Callie’s ‘horse’.

  “What do you need, Nate?” Gunnar asked, glancing down at my broken Mask. The two pieces seemed to be vibrating.

  Before I could answer, Callie pressed her white Mask to her face. The white aura around her flared brighter, concealing her entirely.

  When it faded, she stood before us in a white toga. Her arms were bare, but from the elbow down, it looked as if she had dipped her arms in liquid stone the same color as her Mask. Like she had diamond-encrusted, long-sleeved gloves. And from the knees down, she was simply white fog.

  My broken Mask snapped together with a faint hiss of steam, and my eyes widened to see a diagonal white line across the face, stretching from temple to jaw.

  Gunnar and Alucard didn’t bother taking turns. They both slapped their Masks on at the same time. Green and gold light washed over us, making me wince. This time, I glanced down at my Mask first.

  So I watched as a golden, jagged line spread over the face of my Mask—right beside the golden fracture mark. Then, a similar green line crawled across the Mask, sandwiching the two golden lines between the white and the green.

  It flashed brightly and then began to hum. I grinned eagerly as I scooped it up. Then I turned to look at Gunnar and Alucard.

  Other than their plain gold and green Masks, they…looked the same.

  I remembered that Callie also hadn’t changed when I’d first given her the Mask of Despair, but she also hadn’t put it on. Gunnar and Alucard turned to look at her, and their body language let me know they were disappointed.

  Callie shrugged. “I’ve used mine a few times.”

  They stared at each other like they were exes meeting at a Halloween party when no drinks had been served yet.

  I laughed, shrugging my shoulders. “I think we all have different experiences. The Masks bond to you personally, so they need to get to know you. I had this thing forever before anything really cool happened,” I admitted. “Give it time. Get to know it. Bond with it.” And, with a deep, nervous, breath…

  I put on the Mask of Hope.

  A hundred fingers of lightning illuminated the skies as great tolling booms of thunder rolled across the Land of the Fae.

  The darkness no longer impeded my vision—I could see clearly, but in shades of grays and greens.

  A warm purr welcomed me, seeming to speak directly into my mind.

  “Greetings, Horseman. Your family is complete and your Mask is healed, although your full powers are still recovering from the fracture. Much of that strength comes from you, and you are currently injured and weakened. You should sit this battle out.”

  I nodded, knowing she was right. That’s how I’d broken it in the first place—pushing too hard too fast.

  Mordred abruptly looked like someone had just hit him in the gut with a baseball bat. He doubled over with a loud grunt and slammed into the boulder, no longer frozen in place.

  I hadn’t realized that I’d stood up, but I sensed my new brothers and sister standing beside me. And my unicorn. We watched him climb to his feet.

  He stared back at us, his face pale and frightened.

  “Destroy him,” I snarled, lifting my hand.

  And my Horsemen advanced in silence, their forms beginning to shimmer—

  “HALT! Mordred is mine!”

  And a lone figure stepped forward, holding a sword crackling with golden light. He held a familiar leather strap in his other hand.

  Alex glanced back, seeming to acknowledge Callie, and dipped his head. “Thank you, Horseman. Thanks to you, Excalibur can now become whole.”

  Callie dipped her head politely, and I decided we definitely needed to have that talk. Soon.

  Alex turned back to Mordred and touched the leather strap to the blade. The leather flared with white fire, burning away to ashes in seconds.

  But Excalibur shone like the sun, making Mordred wince.

  My Horsemen did not wince. We stared directly at the blinding light unfazed—probably the only people other than Alex who could do so without incinerating their eyeballs.

  So we saw as white and gold armor suddenly rolled over Alex, decorated with exquisite details etched into the metal that I could discern even from this distance.

  Excalibur slowly dimmed, and Mordred snarled, lifting his rippling black blade to his opponent. His eyes momentarily widened to see Alex now wearing armor.

  But he recovered quickly.

  The two kings clashed blades, and the nearby boulders cracked in half at the concussive explosion.

  My Horsemen bore witness in silence.

  Chapter 49

  Mordred recoiled, lifting his blade in a wary guard.

  Then they began to dance, and despite how good Mordred was with a blade…

  Alex was easily twice as good. Twice as fast. Almost as if he knew Mordred’s every move before even Mordred thought it.

  The stunned look on Mordred’s face confirmed this theory.

  Alex lazily batted away three rapid strikes of Mordred’s black blade as he spoke in a calm, authoritative tone. “You tried to steal something that was not yours.” CLANG! “You corrupted twelve of the noblest men Camelot has ever seen.” CLANG-CLANG! “And then you tried to murder your neighbors. You were sent to Hell once, Mordred, and I must admit, that I do not quite know what to do with you.”

  Mordred had backed away, panting heavily.

  “You see, although I did not live in your time, I believe in c
hivalry. Nobility. Goodness.”

  Mordred snapped his fingers. Nine Knightmares suddenly winked into existence behind him.

  Alex didn’t even react to the new threat as he continued to speak to Mordred. “What I want to do to you is not chivalrous, Mordred.”

  He snarled back. “You are nothing, boy—”

  “Which is why I have a friend who is definitely not a Knight. And…” Alex glanced back at me with a grin. Then he turned back to Mordred. “I’m beginning to think he has a point…”

  I felt my heart begin to race, picking up on some of Alex’s words.

  I spoke hurriedly under my breath, talking to my Mask.

  “Hey, you in there?” I whispered.

  “Yes,” she replied, amused.

  “How much juice do I have?” I asked, a sudden idea forming in my mind. “Enough for armor? I don’t need to do anything fancy. I just don’t want to take damage,” I reassured her.

  “That…is acceptable, Hope. Be warned, you cannot last longer than one minute.”

  “Heard that before,” I muttered. “It’s going to be one crazy minute though. He’s a big leaguer. You sure I can take it?”

  Again, she sounded amused. “You are a Horseman. When I say you can last one minute, I mean it definitively. One minute of whatever he throws at you.”

  “You sound so hot right now.” She laughed delightedly.

  I sensed Gunnar and Alucard staring at me nervously. I waved off their concern.

  I turned to face Mordred, sensing the Knightmares beginning to surround Alex—who still did not look concerned.

  “Call off your hostages, Mordred, or they will all die. MY HORSEMEN ARE HUNGRY!”

  Lightning crackled across the sky as the four of us took a step forward.

  “Take me instead,” I snarled, walking towards him as smoothly as I could, which was difficult with my injuries.

  I saw the hungry look in his eyes as he studied me and my Mask.

  “Do I have your permission to obliterate this stain on humanity?” I asked, turning to face Alex.

  He nodded. “Yes, Horseman of Hope.” Then he turned to the Knightmares. “Behold the death of your king with honor. If he has the courage to accept,” Alex said, turning to arch an eyebrow at Mordred.

  He studied me, narrowing his eyes. I held up my hands, calling upon my Horseman wings only. They more resembled the bone spines of wings—with occasional long black feathers here and there—except they were made of the same quartz-like stone as my Mask, rather than bone.

  They definitely didn’t look capable of aiding in flight, although I knew that was their primary function. I wasn’t intending to fly today, though. I wanted something more up close and personal.

  Mordred nodded hungrily. “Stand down,” he told his Knights.

  And then I resumed my walk, using my wings to help support me as I moved. Mordred hurled a blast of air at me.

  I easily batted it aside with one of my spines.

  Mordred began running at me, hurling blast after blast of molten lava. Instead of slapping it away, I let it wash over me, running headlong into the carnage.

  Mordred’s eye’s widened incredulously, but I still hadn’t made any offensive moves other than closing the distance between us.

  He hefted his sword, hurling the rippling black blade at my face.

  I flung out my hand, using what little magic I had left to me.

  Mordred’s incredibly powerful blade—the one that had so efficiently kicked my ass earlier—ricocheted off my Mask.

  I didn’t even blink.

  I felt something slam into my palm, but I didn’t bother to look down before lifting it behind my head and hurling it as hard as I could at Mordred.

  Gungnir screamed as it flew, faster than any lightning bolt.

  I saw a cross-guard click out from the haft—as if it was a secret upgrade activated by the velocity of my throw—just before the long blade slammed through Mordred’s heart and out his back.

  The cross-guard prevented the Devourer from ripping entirely through Mordred’s torso. Instead, the full force of my Horseman-fueled throw struck Mordred harder than even Grimm had hit him earlier, knocking him completely off his feet and carrying him towards Camelot’s castle wall.

  Gungnir slammed into the wall hard enough to crack stone, and I watched as the Devourer ate Mordred’s soul, sucking it up with a slurping sound. Mordred dropped his head, hanging limp from the wall of Camelot.

  As one, the nine Knightmares dropped to the ground in a metallic crash. None of them stirred, apparently unconscious.

  I turned back to Mordred, verifying he was dead. Only then did I use a faint wisp of power to call Gungnir back to my hand. Mordred crashed to the ground in a wet thud as I caught the Devourer. I let out a breath, the brief use of magic making me lightheaded. I leaned on Gungnir as I pulled off my Mask, smiling down at it for a moment or two.

  Then I turned it back into a coin and shoved it into my pocket. I felt a silk ribbon and pulled it out, smiling at a thought. Then I made my way over to Alex.

  “Thank you,” I told him.

  He nodded. “I couldn’t risk Mordred’s soul getting into the wrong hands.” He studied me thoughtfully. “I trust you to take care of it.”

  I nodded. “Of course. How bad was it with the Summer Queen?”

  He sighed. “Not as bad as it could have been. Grimm was a big help. Until he disappeared out of nowhere. That’s what started to concern me, because I saw him take off for Camelot.”

  I nodded. “He’s a loyal friend,” I said, wanting to change the topic. I glanced back at the Knightmares. “And none of them had to die.”

  Alex smiled faintly. “When I saw the lightning near Camelot, I came as quickly as possible. But when I saw that you had chosen your Horsemen, I thought all of the Knightmares were going to die today. Thank you for resisting the temptation,” he said.

  I nodded, handing him the silk ribbon. “You should tie them up before we can check them out and cleanse their armor. But I need to go to sleep, so the armor cleansing will have to wait. That will restrain anything, but I’m going to need it back when you’re finished.”

  He nodded, accepting the ribbon. “Thank you, Nate.”

  I heard a lilting laugh and turned to see Callie and Alucard smiling at Grimm’s new sparkly horn. Grimm, on the other hand, did not look pleased. The pair of fledgling Horsemen had taken off their Masks, but they held them in one hand, just in case any of the Knightmares woke.

  I noticed Gunnar walking my way, but he had his head to the ground and his hands behind his back, looking as if he was in deep thought.

  “Good luck with that,” Alex said, walking away to deal with the Knightmares. Talon suddenly appeared beside him, wearing his white armor. I wondered how long he’d been hiding there unseen, ready to protect Alex in the event of a trap.

  Or maybe Talon had been the trap—for Mordred.

  I turned around too fast, and promptly lost my balance, still weakened from my injuries and use of magic. I landed on my ass with a grunt, gripping the ground with my hands to support my weight as my head continued to spin. It took a few seconds before I dared to open my eyes, and that was only because of a persistent, high-pitched yapping.

  I opened my eyes to see two puppies growling at me, hunkered low as they prepared to vanquish me. Although their tails were wagging excitedly, so it would be a pleasant vanquishing.

  I smiled, reaching out to pet the little fur balls. They attacked my hand—well, they tried to. It was harmless and fun to watch after the insanity of the last few hours.

  I glanced up at Gunnar, about to ask who they belonged to.

  He was grinning down at the puppies. He looked up at me, and I realized how freaking tired he looked. “Calvin, Makayla…meet your godfather.”

  I felt the world tilt and I fell back, banging my head on the ground.

  As I faded into unconsciousness, I felt two tiny puppy tongues lapping at my face, as they hopped and cli
mbed over me.

  Chapter 50

  I sat in one of the libraries at Chateau Falco, sipping some Macallan as I recovered from the long day. I watched, smiling as Gunnar and Ashley wrestled with their strangely mature pups, Calvin and Makayla. I had recovered from my shock to learn that she had given birth to actual freaking puppies—two weeks ago.

  To them, it was old news.

  But to me, it had only been hours before, thanks to the time distortions Pandora had told me about.

  She had actually been my first stop after Gunnar had slapped me awake outside of Camelot, having handed off his pups to Ashley to take care of me. Pandora had taken one look at me before commanding Gunnar to carry me into the healing pool and toss me in.

  Only then had Pandora brought me up to speed on everything that had happened in my absence. My fight with Mordred had encompassed two weeks in St. Louis time. Pandora was now keeping an eye on everything, making sure that time returned to its normal craziness rather than it’s temporary extreme craziness.

  I’d yanked her into the pool with me, wrapping her up in a tight hug, thanking her for sending my friends to me in Fae. She’d grown very still, seeming to melt into my embrace. And then the tears had come. Gunnar had left the room, and I spent more than an hour comforting her, reassuring her that I was okay. I even told her about my deal with Anubis and told her to hold onto Gungnir for me until I decided whether or not I wanted to hand it over to Odin.

  The pool had helped my injuries, but to truly recover, nothing beat a glass of Macallan and a warm fire.

  Except, maybe, two coked-out puppy werewolves.

  I had tried to press Gunnar and Ashley on a full explanation about Calvin and Makayla, but they had refused, telling me that I had enough to process already, and that we would talk about it at length later. Since they were apparently fine with it, I had let it go. The mama and her pups were obviously healthy and happy.

  And for tonight, that was good enough for me.

  So I sipped at my drink before the fire, smiling absently as the puppies wrestled and tripped over absolutely nothing.