He stopped a dozen paces away, broad chest heaving as it stretched the spandex. The wolves beside him whined, hunkering low in shame.
“Where is she?” he demanded, licking the blood from his lips.
“Gone,” the Huntress spat acidly.
His shoulders went rigid, but I shot him my own scowl. “How was your meeting?” My voice also dripped venom, and he had the rationality to briefly look mildly ashamed. Very mildly.
“Unsuccessful resolution,” he snarled.
“You lied to me.”
His fists flexed. “Not really a priority right now, Nate.”
I took a menacing step forward, fist clutching my cane, which suddenly flared to a full-blown sword, a warning that I was about as close as I could be to drawing on the Dark Presence deep inside of me. The Dark Presence groaned with excitement. I released it, barely, and took a deep, calming breath. “Actually, it kind of is a fucking priority,” I said, the world tilting oddly for a second.
“I don’t have time to deal with your temper tantrums right now. I—”
“Will admit that the reason your fiancée is in the back of the Beast Master’s van is a direct result of your arrogance!” I interrupted with a shout, the dizziness fading.
His claws actually began to shake, and the wolves beside him hunkered lower, ready to eat my face. The enemy of their Alpha, no longer a friend.
“I—”
“Was a fucking idiot. Repeat it. Now.” I roared. “You thought you could swoop in and save the day, and your fiancée is now as good as dead in the back of a filthy van.”
I didn’t even have time to move. His claws were suddenly around my throat, and he was holding me against the brick wall. The Huntress had an arrow aimed at the base of his skull, eyes as pitiless and cold as ice chips, but that would do me no good.
“Call off your wolves, or I’ll have a shiny new pelt,” she murmured calmly. I saw that she was actually grinning with anticipation.
The wolves yipped and barked in frustration, unsure what to do. I stared down into Gunnar’s lone eye, and didn’t flinch. I poked him in his stupidly large chest, fingers poking through the holes in his Under Armour shirt, enunciating each word with a firm prod. “This. Is. Your. Fault.” His lips curled back into a snarl, ready to eat my face. “You better let go, pup,” I warned.
We were too heated, too in the moment to remember our past. That we had been friends.
“And what if I say, no?” he whispered darkly, eye no longer that of my friend, but of the local Alpha. “No one talks to me like that. What if I simply say, no, and let my pack teach you a long-deserved lesson?”
I smiled as the Dark Presence murmured a single word in my head. “Underestimate me. That ought to be fun.” And I slapped the palm of my free hand over his rune tattoo, focusing on the word the Dark Presence had whispered. It didn’t need to be spoken aloud, and I didn’t want anyone else hearing it. Plus, my silence would make this look all the more impressive.
An arc of blue power hammered into him, and he slammed into the brick wall on the opposite side of the alley, suddenly human as dust and debris rained down on him. He groaned as he unsuccessfully tried to stand. His wolves decided it was finally time to retaliate.
“You bring the claws, but I bring the terror,” I snarled, lost in an ocean of blue, not even caring that I was dizzy and that the world seemed to tilt crazily.
I threw up a sizzling curtain of violet power, and the wolves hammered into it.
The result was akin to a swarm of bugs hitting a bug zapper, except it didn’t kill them.
Those unlucky enough to be in front touched the shimmering curtain, and an explosive zap of power sent them cartwheeling back into the alley and out of harm’s way, or into their brothers and sisters behind them. None of those who had tried attacking me were even in wolf form any longer, all of them forced back into human form. The dark whisper in my head murmured approvingly. I shut it away and released the cane that I hadn’t realized I was holding again.
As soon as I let go of the cane, a bucket of frigid water seemed to dump over my head, and I suddenly felt unbelievably exhausted. And much, much weaker. The dizziness made me want to vomit.
But I didn’t let any of that show on my face.
Gunnar climbed to his feet, and I felt the Huntress staring at me in awe.
The remaining wolves smart enough not to have attacked the magical shield stared at me with pure hatred. Gunnar looked even angrier.
“Whenever you’re ready to admit your stupidity, and save your fiancée, you know where to find me. But know that there will be a reckoning for this…” and I motioned for the Huntress to follow me as I turned my back on my best friend. I called out over my shoulder, rage practically dripping out or my pores. “Or you can just wait until Fight Night to see her in action.”
The Huntress was staring at me, but said not a word. She simply nodded in approval, and followed me, glancing back now and then to make sure we weren’t followed.
I wouldn’t have minded a little following. I was amped up and ready to do some more damage, despite my exhaustion. Friendship be damned.
Chapter 27
Othello stared at me incredulously. “Wait, what?” she whispered.
I sat in my chair, fingers tapping the cover of the book in my lap, Through the Looking-Glass.
I didn’t know why I was holding it, other than the tempting thought to speak with the man on the other end of the book, see if he knew anything that could help. Or maybe just to go visit him for a spot of tea and some pleasant background music to my current mood.
The soothing sounds of Rumpelstiltskin’s anguished wails under the tender-loving-care of the Mad Hatter.
The Huntress answered for me, interrupting the mental image. “The wolf betrayed him, and lost his lady-love in the process. And from what I gathered… lost a friendship, too.” She didn’t sound the least bit concerned about it. Just a statement of fact. The Huntress was one cold cookie. I was pretty sure I was her only friend. I glanced at her icy gaze, and bit back a shiver. Friend may be stretching the definition of our relationship.
But she had been there for me last night.
More than I could say about Gunnar.
I fidgeted with the wooden cuff on my wrist, the one I had taken from the goblins. I had decided to start wearing it after the alley fight yesterday, assuming with my limits, that it was an added protection I desperately needed with the curse and violent dizzy spells that now plagued me whenever I tried using my powers. Worth the risk of losing the cuffs. Who knew, perhaps the BM had wizards in captivity and it would come in handy during our next fight.
And I would make sure there was another fight.
And I would use the cane to make one hell of an introduction. The Dark Presence growled approval at the fires burning inside me.
I had also used Ganesh’s belt to heal my wounds, because, why not? He had told me it was okay to do so. I noticed no one was speaking, so looked up.
Othello seemed to be debating her response, shooting a meaningful glance at Mallory, who was leaning against the wall, frowning as he intently listened to the conversation. Rufus sat in silence, close to Mallory, subtly realizing that if he opened his lips, someone would bite his head off. This was a family matter. “I think you may have been too hard on him,” Othello finally said.
I slowly turned to look at her, and wondered what about my face suddenly made her flinch.
“I mean… he was simply trying to help, right?”
I shook my head. “He lied to me. That’s not helping. He told me he had pack business to attend to, and that he would call when he was finished.”
Mallory cleared his throat. “With all due respect… wouldn’t ye call what he did… pack business?”
I turned the age-old Temple glare on him. “If pack business means betrayal, then yes. Be productive, or leave, Mallory. I won’t say it again.”
He frowned, looking properly chastised as he averted his eyes. But
not before shooting Othello a not-so-discreet glance.
The Dark Presence growled territorially.
Othello reached out and touched my hand atop the book. I flinched back, and power instantly covered my arm, spitting sparks onto the table. Othello yelped in pain, and flinched away. I let the power go, as well as my fist around the cane handle. Her eyes saw the motion, and shot wide with an inner hurt. Like a puppy kicked by his owner. Not understanding how they had earned their master’s wrath, and still wanting nothing more than to go and lick his hand. I’m not saying Othello wanted to lick my hand, but that look did make me feel like utter shit.
“I’m not feeling very… touchy at the moment,” I said softly, my tone apologetic.
“I like him like this,” the Huntress grinned, crossing her legs on a foot rest.
“Not helping,” I muttered.
Othello pleaded again, but kept her distance this time. “He was an idiot. That’s true. But maybe he’s just concerned for your…” she trailed off, face flushing as she struggled to find the right word. A nicer word for whatever she had been about to say.
I leaned forward. “My what?” I spat, icily.
“Sanity,” the Huntress chuckled. “I think she was going to say, sanity.” I rounded on her, couldn’t think of anything to say, so turned back to Othello with the obvious question on my face.
“Well-being,” she finished softly. “I think he was just concerned for your well-being.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.” I could feel the rage building up inside of me, threatening to break free and do some real damage. Cut loose. “Everyone, out,” I gasped in a forced whisper, fighting the urges pressing against me as the world began to shift to blue shades. I spun my chair around to stare out the window, trying to think calm, non-homicidal thoughts. I heard everyone get up to leave, so cleared my throat. “The Huntress can stay.” There was a meaningful pause before I heard the shuffling of feet again. Finally, I heard the door click closed. I could sense the Huntress’ presence behind me, but didn’t turn as I spoke. “What do you think?”
She was silent for a time. “I think you’re at a Crossroads.” I turned to her with a frown.
“Explain.”
She was staring down at her bow in one hand, eyes distant. “You’re in a dark place right now. Your woman betrayed you. Or abandoned you. Or whatever you want to call it. With your grandfather. Then a fellow wizard cursed you. Then your friends betrayed you. And the only one sticking up for you is the unhinged murderer you battled not a few months ago.” She smiled sadly as she looked up, fingers idly drumming her bow. “You’re in a dark place. A crucible.”
I let out a sigh of frustration. “Well, what do you propose?”
She leaned forward, staring into my face intently. “Survive it. Whatever survives the crucible will be stronger, more resilient, more powerful. Make peace with your darkness.” Her eyes grew distant, and I shivered as she leaned back, staring out the window at the morning sunlight. I hadn’t mentioned anything about darkness, or the psychopath riding shotgun in my mind. Still, her words struck too close to home for my liking. “Or you give up. Give in. Admit defeat. Be burned to ashes.” She shrugged. “But I suggest that you keep walking. Nothing wrong with a little darkness. It conceals your secrets,” she glanced pointedly at where my cane handle lay concealed at my hip. “I prefer the darkness. It lets you see people as they truly are. Takes away disguises. Character is who you are in the dark. Or who you are when no one is watching.”
I studied her thoughtfully, ignoring the Dark Presence’s pleasant agreement from inside the cane. Inside me.
I finally nodded. “It doesn’t change anything. I need to save the chimera. And the others. With or without help.” I shot her a hopeful look. “You in?”
“I’ll look at my schedule,” she murmured. “But I think I can move some things around.” An idea crossed her features, but she masked it well, continuing in what she considered nonchalance, “As long as you can set up a… date with Tory.” The Huntress had been fantasizing about Tory ever since their first encounter outside my family mausoleum, our first real battle against the mysterious woman before me. The interest hadn’t been mutual, but Tory had changed lately. And she was grieving. I had caught more than a few subtle glances between the two of them over the past few months. And now that I thought about it, her sudden interest in spending more time around me began to make a lot more sense. I had chalked it up to the fact that we had so handily defeated her a few months ago, and that she now harbored a begrudging respect for a worthy adversary. Ally with power. No one truly knew the inner workings of the Huntress – friend or foe – but I was pretty sure she was right where she belonged.
By my side. And friends helped other friends set up dates, even if by subterfuge.
I smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She nodded. “So, where is the next target? The Beast Master typically takes three per city before moving on. Baba have any ideas, or just the one?”
I sighed. “Just the one. And I don’t think Baba will be willing to give me another. But I’ve got an insider who might be able to help in time. I don’t think the Beast Master will move until tonight. We have a bit of time, because he’s got some new… warriors to welcome into his fold,” I added with dark thoughts.
Ashley.
And three new victims. The chimera, and two from my city.
Well, Ashley was Gunnar’s problem. They had both knowingly lied to me, so although I didn’t want any harm to come to her, I was too furious to see things any other way right now. Ashley had known of the deception too, so her abduction was solely a werewolf problem, not mine. My job was to get the kids, and the chimera. Gunnar could clean up his own house.
“So, where to next?”
“The bar. I need a drink.”
Her eyes glittered as she smiled with her teeth. “Little early, but okay.”
“Maybe I’ll get Tory to give us a ride…” I said casually. Her grin was hungry.
Chapter 28
I pushed the new door open, a steel-reinforced piece I had purchased.
After I had, well, demolished the old one in a hissy fit.
A scarred, blonde-headed man stood behind the bar, watching us as he polished a glass. His forearms were thick, but not overly so. He wore a flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms and scarred knuckles. I could see the tendons and the veins flexing and moving beneath his skin with each movement, revealing the strength of the man tending bar. His eyes tracked my movements like a tiger hunting prey. Quite a few patrons filled the bar, drinking quietly as they murmured softly to each other. It didn’t typically get wild until much later in the evening, but the place was practically booming compared to normal. Upon seeing me enter, a few stood, downed their drinks, and then left. A few more left as the Huntress walked in behind me with Alucard in tow.
“Bad for business, you three,” the man behind the bar growled with a soft grin. “Did he win?”
I cocked my head to the side for a moment as I approached. Confused. Then I realized he was asking about the hot dog contest. I nodded, chuckling as I sat at the bar, my accomplices flanking me with confused frowns of their own at the Heel’s question.
Achilles’ eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded back. His gaze flicked to the Huntress and Alucard, nodding politely to each.
“I’m in need of some entertainment,” I said.
“Tough to find when you’re a billion—” he stopped, and a dark grin washed over his face. “Sorry, when you’re used to being a billionaire, but suddenly find yourself down on your luck. I truly feel just terrible for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I manage.”
He kept his tone guarded. “So, you came to my bar. As you can see, entertainment seems to flee when you arrive. And I was having such a lucrative day…” His eyes flicked to the door leading into the back, where two heavy-chested men stood, arms folded, scowling at life in general as they guarded the door.
Myrmidons. Achilles’ famed warriors, and sackers of Troy.
I frowned, but stayed on point. “I was thinking something a bit more… antiquated.”
He set down the glass, casually looked around at his remaining patrons – who were studiously ignoring us – and turned back to me, voice low. “Not really the kind of thing I discuss with non-paying customers,” he added meaningfully.
“Then how about you be a good bartender and quench our thirst?” I added, rolling my eyes.
He folded his arms. “It’s always amazed me how no one has put you in your place yet.”
His Myrmidons were suddenly, silently, paying much closer attention to me and my friends. The Huntress waved at them, invitingly. I grinned back at Achilles. “It’s not for a lack of trying.”
Achilles grunted, and poured me a scotch. The Huntress got a white wine – which I was surprised this type of bar carried. It was known as a Kill, due to the grave potential of dying here. One of the most dangerous types of bars out there. I hadn’t expected white wine to be on the menu. Achilles handed Alucard a bag of blood. “Fresh from a young donor. People pay top dollar for that to use for blood transfusions. Filling their bodies with the blood of a young person.” He rolled his eyes. “Idiots.”
Alucard didn’t take the blood. “How about a scotch, like Nate.”
Achilles blinked. “You mean both?”
“No. You can keep the blood. Just a scotch, please.”
We were all silent for a few beats before Achilles poured Alucard a scotch, weighing him with a thoughtful look.
The vampire truly didn’t really like blood anymore if he was turning down a fresh bag.
Well, Daywalker, not vampire. I hadn’t taken the time to research it in depth, because I hadn’t wanted to draw attention to him. For example, if Daywalkers were so rare, me asking for details on one would absolutely guarantee that Alucard would get flagged, which could mean the Academy coming to town, or else a gang of vampires. And the way he now acted like a father to the Reds, I wouldn’t just be putting him in danger, but the whole family. And I couldn’t do that.
Beast Master: A Novel in The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 5) Page 16