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Beast Master: A Novel in The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 5)

Page 25

by Shayne Silvers


  I gave him a dark grin. “I’ve always liked the sound of that.” I studied him thoughtfully. “I shall name you Carl. I broke your Gateway, didn’t I? The Fae can now come to my world.”

  He nodded.

  “And thanks to the Gateway residing on my property, and that I am the rightful Master of the Beast, you are now mine.” I motioned towards Chateau Falco, and he shivered before nodding. “I hope there are more of you…”

  He nodded again. “The Gateway is still good for that.”

  “Okay. Here’s what you’re going to do, Carl…”

  And we spoke for a few moments before I bid him goodbye, and then headed back inside my home. Inside the beast that had disguised itself as my home.

  It purred as I drew closer.

  Chapter 45

  I walked into my office, face calm. The Huntress jerked her head my way, watching me hesitantly, face tight, noticing something was different about me. An instinctual knowledge. A gut feeling. Van noticed her wandering attention, and turned. He squinted at me, but didn’t speak. Mallory stood stiffly, warily, as if fearing retaliation of some sort. Likely, for him testing me. Othello watched me with big, dark eyes, tears still dampening her cheeks. She looked ready to dart my way and hug me.

  I smiled.

  I think.

  I caressed the door frame as one would a cat, and murmured, “There, there…” The house literally groaned in reply, as a house is wont to do in the middle of the night when you are asleep, forcing you to imagine a monster creeping about in the darkness.

  The sound of a house settling.

  Of a monster sighing in content.

  My home.

  Mallory flinched, eyes wide. “What have ye done, Laddie?”

  I turned to him, staring as I remembered him forcing me to heal Van as some sort of test. Now I knew it was to assure himself. That I hadn’t lost my marbles. But I couldn’t accuse him of that, because Shiva had warned me against speaking of what I had seen through the looking-glass.

  Looking-glass… My eyes briefly darted to the book on the shelf, considering the coincidence.

  Then I turned to Othello and smiled, holding out my arms. She raced my way in a flash, and wrapped her arms around me. “It’s okay. I understand,” I murmured in her ear, smelling the tea tree shampoo in her hair.

  She sobbed against my chest, a sound of relief, and the Huntress shared an intense look with both Van and Mallory, silently querying them on what the fuck had just happened, and why the house had made a noise immediately after I had supposedly spoken to it.

  I studied her over Othello’s shoulder.

  And winked.

  Then I gently pried Othello from my torso, wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder, and led her to the couch. I sat in my aged Darlington, and glanced at the liquor in Van’s hand. Then I glanced at the table beside me, and suddenly a glass of chilled scotch was there.

  Van cursed, trying to jump to his feet, but only managing to tangle himself up in the blanket.

  I held out my hand. “Peace.”

  He calmed, studying me acutely. “What…”

  The Huntress chimed in politely. “I have the same question. Followed by the fuck. Also, should we be concerned about the goddamn fireworks display outside a few moments ago? Looked like you were kicking off the Apocalypse.”

  Everyone turned to me, eyes questioning. “That can wait. Right now, we have more pressing matters to discuss.” I turned to Othello. “Did you verify Van’s claim about the abduction?”

  Van cleared his throat. “Othello verified it. Some charity going down at an orphanage. But…”

  I turned to him, frowning. “Yes?”

  He shivered, muttering under his breath as his gaze flinched away. “Tory and Alucard showed up. We talked. They might have heard about the charity. And then promptly left.”

  I hadn’t noticed any cars entering the drive. Then again, I had been distracted. Perhaps my little show had scared them off. I leaned forward, and the Huntress’ hands twitched, as if considering her bow. “When?”

  “Thirty minutes ago.”

  “Why didn’t you stop them? And what about the Reds?”

  “Nate, the girls are fine, but…” Othello pleaded, suddenly kneeling before me, tears flowing freely again. “You were gone for a long time. We watched you.” She pointed out the window at the tree. “You weren’t moving. At all. And you didn’t quite leave with a… reasonable look on your face. And you had just died. Kind of.” I frowned.

  “How long is long?”

  “Bloody hours,” Mallory growled. “But it felt like forever.” His words seemed to jar a thought into his head, and he looked at me sharply, but didn’t voice his concern.

  “What the hell army were you destroying out there?” the Huntress repeated.

  I turned to her, surprised that she hadn’t seen the Elders I had been fighting. After all, the glass was enchanted. The Beast spoke from his Prison for my ears only. “Because you haven’t given them permission to see through the glass,” he whispered. I blinked. Oh. “The glass worked for you the first time because you at least had the right blood. Now you have the right power, and the right blood.” I nodded to myself, gaze snapping back to the people before me. They were staring at me, frowning. Their sense of growing alarm was palpable.

  “Later. It’s not important right now.” I didn’t have time to get into the Elders. Tory and Alucard were out there right now.

  This answer did not please them. And they began to argue. I let them go on for a few seconds.

  “I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to go stop Tory and Alucard. And Van needs to play the ever-helpful associate to the Beast Master. Because he’s probably wondering where you’ve been.” I slowly turned to him with a hungry smile. “If that means attacking me, so be it. If you’re up for that.” Van nodded. “Make it appear genuine. Do your worst. No holds barred. Trust me.”

  He cursed under his breath, leaning away. “Fine.”

  “We need to go save a kid. And our friends.” The Huntress nodded with a glare, thinking only of Tory. “They have no idea what they are up against. A whole pack of wolves and the Huntress couldn’t stop them last time. And that’s not even considering how the Fae will respond when she touches her power. We’ve already been attacked by goblins and a troll. Their next hunter won’t be so gentle.” I decided not to depress them further by telling them the Fae would be coming whether Tory used her powers or not. But not using her powers might possibly delay their debut a bit longer.

  “You were there too, Maker. Last time we encountered the Beast Master’s thugs. And despite the mayhem, you didn’t help much either.” The Huntress responded softly.

  “That was… before.”

  Mallory leaned closer, lips working soundlessly. “Before what, Laddie?” he asked softly.

  “Before everything.” I climbed to my feet and downed my drink. “Rufus all tucked in?” I asked him.

  Mallory nodded with a faint grin. “Dean might have put something in his drink.”

  “Good. You ready to give me a brief highlight of your past?” I asked, staring at him. The question caught him off guard for a few moments. He finally shook his head sadly. “Okay.” I turned away from him, my face blank as I began to walk away, remembering something Shiva had let slip. “We leave now. At the fountain. It should only take us a moment to get there.”

  “After the display of magic down at the tree, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see you fail to make that drink a few minutes ago.” Van spoke softly, but it was left open as a question.

  I didn’t answer, continuing my walk instead. I didn’t even bother to grab my new cuffs, I was so confident in my new powers. Or knowledge of my old powers. I heard everyone scrambling behind me, but paid them no mind, listening to the gentle throbbing of the Prison at my hip.

  The Guardians about the mansion purred, shrieked, and cooed as I strode past them. Utter adoration, and pride. I had never felt that from them.
<
br />   But that had been before.

  I walked past Dean, and smiled politely. He didn’t say a word, but gave me a shaky nod back. The house groaned, as if a wind had briefly meandered down the hallway, and Dean tensed.

  “It’s okay, Dean. I’m okay. Chateau Falco appreciates your service.”

  His eyes were wide as he nodded back uncertainly.

  In no time, I was standing by the fountain. Van and the Huntress burst out of the house first, armed for bear. I spotted Othello and Mallory tailing them, tugging on their coats. I shook my head, and the door slammed closed between us and them. Othello needed to stay safe. And I didn’t trust Mallory any longer. Van and the Huntress shared a look. I ignored the sound of fists pounding on the other side of the door. They would be safe here.

  I could literally guarantee it.

  “Let us be off.”

  Using my dwindling Maker power, I ripped open a hole in reality, a ring of blazing sparks erupting before me. The little fireflies zipped through the opening, away from us, indicating the intended direction of travel. I stepped through, not waiting for a response. Van cursed several times behind me, but I heard the familiar sound of rounds being chambered in his pistols. No crossbow this time.

  I strode into a dark alleyway one block from our destination. The sounds of bullets tore through the night. Screams. Destruction.

  I smiled in anticipation.

  Chapter 46

  I released our gateway, and then created another adjacent one. I shoved Van through before he could realize it, and then zipped it closed. He couldn’t be seen with us. The Huntress cursed, trying to keep up with me as I suddenly bolted away, but I wasn’t planning on using the streets. I called the wind, and suddenly bounded up the fire escape until I was standing three stories above the alley, letting the Huntress find her own way. I raced to the roof’s edge, and stared down at a warzone. Shifters of all flavors slammed into each other.

  I made a fist, and a flying creature slammed to the ground in a wet splat, right beside Tory. She looked pale, eyes intent, as she murmured continuously under her breath. Raego, in full black dragon form roared at a trio of different colored werecats. A dense fog of smoke sailed from his snout, instantly turning them into obsidian statues. Two gorillas hammered into him, and Raego shifted abruptly, now a hybrid between his two forms, like Gunnar could do. He went blow for blow against the gorillas, and was doing just fine. Tory must have called him for backup after learning the location of the intended abduction. But then who was watching the Reds?

  Still, I felt like letting off some steam. And I needed to let off steam. Burn up my Maker power. In a controlled release, so that the curse dropping didn’t kill me with shock of losing too much all at once. I glanced at a nearby dumpster, and flicked my finger. The several ton hunk of metal slammed into the gorillas, flattening them against the brick wall below me, which crumbled on impact. Still, I knew they weren’t down for the count. Just trapped.

  Gunnar burst free from an alley with a vampire head in each claw. One of them still had the spine attached. He threw them at another vampire, who dodged it with a feral hiss. “Any more chew toys?” he roared. He was covered in blood, none of it his. And he was smiling.

  I heard two more dragons screeching in the night, and the resulting lance of napalm flame. Raego had brought friends. About time. He had been dragging ass lately in the help department.

  Then a truly horrifying monster tore through the brick wall of one of the buildings, breathing fire and spitting venom at Gunnar. He dodged it, but two of his fellow wolves caught the brunt of the poison, and then the flame. Their pelts disintegrated in an explosive hiss of acidic venom, and then they caught fire. The beast’s cobra tail lashed out and struck one of them in the neck. As it jerked free, it tore the wolf’s throat out.

  Time seemed to slow as I stared in awe at the chimera. It was a little shorter than me, and stood upright as it faced the wolves. Its chest was a magnificent lion’s head, complete with auburn mane, mouth open in a silent snarl at the Alpha werewolf. The monster’s head was a ram of some sort, horns still seeming adolescent, but long enough to skewer anyone who got too close, and its eyes blazed with yellow light. Its green tail arched up to sway from side to side over the ram’s head, the tip resembling a cobra – hood fanned out as it hissed a warning, tongue flickering ominously.

  If it looked like this as a child, how big would it be fully grown?

  Gunnar bounded forward with a howl, his blue eye glittering with revenge as he closed on the chimera. I hammered him with a blaze of ice, knocking him clear of the venomous fire-breathing chimera. “Stupid idiot,” I muttered under my breath. “You trying to get yourself killed?” That thing would destroy him. Destroy anything.

  After that pronouncement of wisdom, I jumped off the roof, and my falling momentum gave me a thought. I smiled, flicking out a hand.

  A minty green sphere coalesced around the chimera, and then I gave the bubble an English spin with the snap of a finger. The chimera roared, hissed, and bleated defiance as it suddenly found itself in a zero-gravity orb, spinning about continuously, the sphere absorbing all elemental attacks cast inside of it. The surviving shifters glared pure hatred at me as I landed on the dumpster that trapped the gorillas. The metal folded in on itself, absorbing my weight as if I had landed on a pile of pillows.

  But I didn’t lose my footing, manipulating the metal in the dumpster to perfectly accept this new reality of me landing painlessly atop it from a three-story drop.

  Still, energy cannot be created or destroyed, so the dumpster… well, died, leaving behind a broken hunk of metal, and revealing the gorillas’ upper bodies between it and the wall.

  They hooted in renewed fury.

  I calmly stepped off the dumpster, and casually kicked the metal without looking behind me. The dumpster exploded through the brick wall, crushing the gorillas into a pile of broken bones and dying screams. Being a self-proclaimed badass, I walked away without looking behind me. Like that YouTube montage of badasses walking away from an explosion without looking back.

  A soft clapping reverberated through the alley, and everyone rushed back to their home teams, regrouping. Again, I walked.

  A bald-headed man exited the hole in the building from his chimera, frowning up at her as she spun impotently in her cocoon. He was tall, powerfully built, and sported a tattoo on the back of each hand. His face was hard beneath his bearded cheeks.

  “Well played, my boy. Well played. Didn’t think you would actually show. Although I assumed your crew would.”

  “Nice to meet you. What’s your name again?” I asked pleasantly.

  He frowned. “Not sure that matters, considering…”

  I shrugged. “I prefer to know the names of the people I kill,” I grinned, all teeth.

  He didn’t answer immediately. Then he shrugged. “Boris.”

  Boris. Boris the Beast Master. I almost burst out laughing, but somehow restrained myself.

  “Okay. Thanks. Time to die, Boris the Beast Master,” I smiled, taking a step closer.

  He held up a hand. “Not quite. Master Helsing?”

  Gunnar stiffened, mouth open in shock at hearing Van was alive, let alone here.

  And Van entered the alley, shoving a young girl ahead of him, gripping her by her flaming red hair. “Here she is. Was trying to flank us. Filthy bitch,” He growled. My vision pulsed blue in an instant. I had told him to do his worst. Goddamnit. Gold Star earned. For Van, not me.

  The Beast Master nodded at Van Helsing, studying him intently. “Not sure where you went, but don’t be gone so long next time. Makes me antsy.”

  Van nodded. “Apologies. Had a disagreement with Cyclops over there.” He waved at Gunnar with his free hand. I could hear Gunnar grinding his canines from here.

  Tory chose that moment to lose her shit, and half of the shifters collapsed with a groan. Even the Beast Master blinked at that. She was quivering, and her eyes were neon fire as she stared at Van Helsi
ng and his captive.

  Because it was Aria.

  Tory’s adopted daughter. One of the tween dragons. I hissed at her in barely restrained rage. “What the hell were you thinking bringing her here? I thought they were safe at home.”

  “I didn’t… I would never…” she whispered, staring at Aria.

  The Huntress melted out from the shadows beside me. “They snuck in. Followed Raego in a separate car. I tried to stop them, but they hulked out on me, and I wasn’t about to turn them into pincushions,” she grumbled.

  “Maybe you should have,” I growled back.

  She levelled a look at me, and then pointed a thumb behind her. Sonya lay behind a dumpster, an arrow through her thigh. She was unconscious. The Huntress lifted a finger to her lips, telling me to be quiet as her eyes flicked to Tory – who hadn’t yet noticed, too focused on Aria. “Sonya is safe,” she said, loud enough for Tory to hear.

  Shit.

  Tory let out a sob of relief, taking a purposeful step towards the Beast Master, eyes on fire.

  Chapter 47

  “That’s close enough, beast.” Then he hesitated as if suddenly realizing something. He cocked his head, appraising her, and then studying the fallen shifters around him. He slowly turned back, a look of surprise on his face. “Could it be? Another Beast Master?”

  “Let them go,” I warned. “And I won’t kill all of you. As slowly.”

  Boris the Beast Master began to clap. “Ah, yes. The Maker come to unmake us. You could go right ahead…” he trailed off.

  “Do it, Nate,” Gunnar snarled.

  “And the wolf will die.” Boris finished his threat with perfect timing.

  “What?” I asked, frowning.

  “The little black thing I picked up yesterday.” Gunnar actually let out a howl pointed at the moon, like every awful werewolf movie ever made. “Clichés,” Boris agreed, frowning. “Be that as it may, she will die if I do not return safely.”

 

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