Which left Yahn and Alucard shit out of luck if Pan or I couldn’t get them back.
I had informed them of this possibility repeatedly, but they had persisted. Yahn wanted to prove himself to us, and Alucard wanted to help Gunnar. The two couldn’t be dissuaded.
Thinking of who else I might take with me, I came up with a very short list. Raego – the king of the dragons – and Van Helsing.
Raego was busy ruling a nation, though. And I didn’t want to introduce him to his dark side. Because a small part of me already had concerns about Raego. When I had first met him, he had seemed slightly off in the mental department. Power hadn’t helped that. He seemed… distant lately. He was also currently trying to keep his dear grandmother from asserting too much control with his subjects, which was comical to hear about. I had whooped her ass once, and she wasn’t pleased about that, so we hadn’t spent much time around each other.
And I was also pretty sure I didn’t want to see Van Helsing’s darker side, either.
I realized I was no longer drumming the box in my lap, but fiddling with a coin, rolling it back and forth over my knuckles. I put it away with a weary sigh. My Mask, given to me by Matthias. I kept it in my pocket as a coin, for ease of convenience.
The Mask let me tap into the powers of a Horseman. The Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse, which sounded like a ridiculously poor plot for an action flick. Still, I had donned the Mask of Hope twice now. The second time had much more… noticeable results.
Mainly, that it had given me freaking stone wings.
And I had healed Gunnar from near death, permanently changing him in the process.
Which pretty much told me that I was going to be a Horseman. Whether I wanted it or not.
Just as I was considering sneaking off to try and have a chat with one of the Horsemen, I heard voices approaching from the entrance. The two red dragons stirred, and I looked up to see that Yahn was also alert, staring at the approaching sounds.
Alucard arguing with Carl.
“I don’t care if it itches. Stop scratching. It’s disgusting.”
“Peeling off skin is pleasing to me. Always has been,” Carl argued.
“Carl, we talked about this. Think about your words before speaking them. Unless you want Nate to reinstate his hand-raising rule before you are allowed to comment.”
Carl hissed. “Wylde has granted me command of his minions in your absence. He, too, understands the importance of indulging in self-pleasure.”
“Fucking Carl,” I heard Gunnar chime in, chuckling. “And I wouldn’t call them minions where they can hear you, Carl.”
The three men rounded the corner to find me smiling at them, shaking my head. Alucard sighed. “You heard all that?” he asked, jerking a thumb at the albino-scaled Elder – a man-sized lizard person, wearing an assortment of leather straps as clothing. He was scratching his neck absently, then groaned as his eyes rolled back into his head, his second set of eyelids, flicking upwards as he blinked, peeling away a foot-long swathe of dead scales from the crest around his neck. He moaned, holding out the strip of skin before him. His tongue flickered out, tasting it. Then he flung it at Alucard, who jumped back with a disgusted sound.
Alucard flung out a hand, pointing at Carl as he shot me a pleading look. “He’s fucking crazy. And disgusting. Tell him, Nate. He won’t listen to anyone else. Dean almost had a panic attack when Carl licked him.”
“He told me to stop pleasuring myself in public places,” Carl rasped.
Gunnar chuckled again, shaking his head as he sat down heavily beside me, shoving me to scoot over or else he was going to sit in my lap. I growled and moved over, turning at a sound on my other side. I flinched to find Talon sitting in Baba’s chair, staring at me in utter silence.
“Jesus Christ!” I hissed. “Put a fucking bell on or something,” I said, trying to calm my suddenly racing heart.
“I am not Jesus Christ. I am Talon. The Devourer.”
“Greetings, Devourer,” Carl said politely, dipping his head at him. Then a thought seemed to cross his face as he watched Talon licking his paws and using it to wipe the beard of fur under his chin. He pointed a long, black claw. “He pleasures himself at least once an hour, and no one seems to care.”
Talon sighed, lowering his paw. Then he looked at me. “He truly doesn’t have a clue.”
I nodded.
Carl flicked his tongue out curiously, as if sensing something. His head snapped to the box in my lap. Then his eyes narrowed angrily. “Poor taste,” he hissed before glaring at me.
I frowned, and then glanced down at the box. Talon leaned closer, reading it. “Oh, that is very nice. I didn’t even notice it. I wondered why you hadn’t shopped there before.”
I blinked at the two of them. “Excuse me?” I said, answering both statements with all the wit I could muster.
“Elder hide,” Carl said, sitting down across from me, jerking his head at the box. “Although it is from Darling and Dear, I would have appreciated forewarning.”
“Says the guy who honors his enemies by using their bones as weapons,” Alucard muttered drily. He pointed at the box. “What the hell is Darling and Dear, and what is he talking about with Elder hide?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea,” I said, frowning down at the box. Elder hide? “Dean said he found the box at the front door.”
“You haven’t opened it yet? That’s not like you,” Gunnar said, eyeing me.
I smiled guiltily. “I think Callie sent it…”
Carl looked suddenly protective of me. “Have you checked it for…” he hesitated, squinting. Then he glanced over at the Reds. “What did you tell me it was called?”
Straight-faced, Sonya replied. “Cooties. A very contagious toxin.”
Yahn’s jaw dropped open, but Carl took this as proof that it was dangerous. He turned back to me. “Have you checked it for cooties? I believe Callie is a female, and may have unknowingly contracted it. You shouldn’t risk getting sickened by cooties before your journey.”
Gunnar coughed, actually biting his fist. Alucard just shook his head in bewilderment, shooting a smirk back at the two red dragons. They winked back at him.
I cleared my throat. “I’ve checked it for cooties, Carl. We’re all safe.”
“Master Temple is wise,” Carl said, nodding reverently before motioning for me to continue as he leaned closer, tongue flickering a few times.
I sighed, and unclasped the metal latch on the box. Then I opened it, holding my breath as I wondered again how the box had gotten to my front door. It definitely hadn’t been shipped here.
Silver tissue paper was neatly folded around something inside, and a black silk ribbon was tied around it with a small card tucked underneath. I pulled out the card, and a ten-dollar bill fell onto my lap. I grinned, knowing exactly who it was from, now. I glanced at the small card, the size of a business card, and read it, my smile stretching wider.
“What does it say, man? Is it from Callie?” Gunnar growled, trying to read it over my shoulder. “And what’s up with the dollar bill?”
“Use your good eye, Gunnar. It’s a ten,” Alucard teased. “You always pick the wrong side to leer from. It’s painful to watch, honestly.”
Gunnar scowled at him, but he was smiling.
I read it out loud. “See you at eight-o’clock.”
Like men everywhere, we celebrated my victory with smug smiles for a few moments. Then Talon spoke up. “And the ten-dollar-bill?”
Carl chimed in. “I don’t understand. Is she offering to buy your sex?”
Chapter 12
The Reds burst out laughing, and pretty soon, everyone but Carl – who looked confused – was joining in. I turned to Carl, shaking my head. “I made Callie a bet a few months ago about her boss. She bet me ten bucks I was wrong.” I held up the money triumphantly. “Looks like I was right.”
“And she obviously knew you would never let her pay you, trying to hold it over her head, so she clever
ly bought you a gift and hid the money inside,” Gunnar chuckled.
I nodded, staring down at the neatly wrapped package. Callie had indeed tried to send me my ten dollars. Repeatedly. I had returned it every time. Gunnar reached to snatch it out of my hands and I slapped his wrist playfully, angling it away from him. Seeing the gleam in his eye, I decided I better hurry up. I hastily untied the ribbon and tore away the paper to reveal a sleek, white scaled expanse of leather, like crocodile skin.
I held it up, frowning in confusion.
“This is a purse, is it not?” Carl asked, idly rubbing his arms as if imagining his own skin used to make it.
“Satchel, you assholes. How many times do I need to say it? Satchel, not purse. Hermes is the messenger god, and he fucking loved satchels. You’re disrespecting Hermes by calling it a purse. Men had them long before women.” They all studied me with very patient eyes, as if this were an intervention. “Fucking dickheads,” I muttered, turning the satchel over in my hands, inspecting it. I wouldn’t have necessarily picked the color, but there was no doubt it was exquisite. It also felt very cold, as if it had been sitting in a freezer. But it wasn’t stiff. It was flexible, as if broken in, but I could tell it hadn’t ever been used. The strap was made of black chain – not painted metal, but something tougher, and naturally black. Almost like…
“Is that made out of dragon’s scales?” Yahn asked, mortified. I glanced up to see the three dragons staring at us, sniffing the air.
“Um… maybe?”
“Someone melted a black dragon’s scales to make a strap for a purse?” Aria asked, sounding stunned.
I glared at her. “SATCHEL!” I snapped.
“Awww, look at the wizard get defensive over his girlfriend’s purse,” Alucard teased.
I sighed, realizing that any reaction on my part would simply cause them to gang up on me. “I didn’t think that was possible. To melt a dragon’s scale. Especially not a black one…” I added thoughtfully.
Gunnar leaned closer. “I’m pretty sure I heard Raego saying that was impossible. The scale – once heated up enough – would simply turn to ashes. And when I say heated up enough, I mean like the temperature of a small sun, or something.” He met my eyes, face thoughtful. “Callie buys you a…” his eye twinkled at the instant glare I shot him, “a satchel made from an Elder’s hide and re-forged black dragon’s scales… for, what? A birthday gift?” He let the silence grow for a minute as I stared down at the bag. “Are you and Callie… dating?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to argue, but then thought about it. “You are!” Alucard hooted.
I shook my head instantly. “No, that’s not why I paused,” I argued. “We’re not. But…” I turned to meet everyone’s eyes, one after the other. “This thing had to cost… a shitload of money. And Callie doesn’t have a shitload of money. Not even close…”
“I stand by my claim that she is trying to buy your body for carnal pleasures. It is only logical. She will see you at eight tonight for your sex. When courting, one often spends above their means, or does an extravagant act to prove that they are worth sexing,” Carl said, folding his arms stubbornly.
Alucard burst out laughing. “He’s actually not wrong on that one, but I might have said it differently.”
“That is because you are uncivilized, Glampire,” Carl said, looking smug.
“Uncivilized?” Alucard stammered, laughing loudly. “Okay. Fine. I don’t sell my sex, so I’m uncivilized—” His eyes shot over to the Reds, who looked extremely attentive. “You say one word of this conversation to Tory and I’ll take away your cars.”
Their eyes tightened, but they very wisely remained silent.
I studied the satchel intently. It wasn’t blindingly white or anything, but it definitely wouldn’t be mistaken for any other color. But again… it didn’t look fresh off the rack, but almost distressed. Then I realized why. The skin it had been made from had likely been hundreds of years old. I looked up at Carl.
“How long do you guys typically live?” I asked him.
Instead of answering, he extended a claw, reaching for the satchel. I handed it over. He licked it with his tongue a few times, and Alucard actually retched. When Carl pulled away, he looked about as surprised as I had ever seen. He met my eyes, handing it back with a very thoughtful look. “That skin is over two-thousand-years old… I’m fairly certain the skin is impenetrable after that long.”
I almost dropped the bag in disbelief. Talon grunted in surprise, even stopping his incessant cleaning – of his ears, this time.
“Oh…” I said, studying the satchel with more care and not a small amount of trepidation. I opened it, glancing inside, where it was dark and soft, like calfskin. Two pockets decorated the front, and a thick black buckle – that looked to be designed by God himself, etched with microscopic runes that I couldn’t begin to read without a magnifying glass – would hold it closed. From the sudden thrum of energy that I felt when I touched the buckle, I was betting something magical, and very powerful was indeed inscribed there. But to be carved so small, it had to be very, very strong, or there were many different spells carved into it. I didn’t know which was more impressive.
Long story short, it might be the coolest thing I had ever seen.
Gunnar nudged me with an elbow. “So, date night, eh?”
I found myself grinning despite my doubts on their assessment. “It probably is worth selling my sex for. God knows I’ve sold it for less.” Gunnar clapped me on the back, laughing loudly.
“Well, it looks like we need to get you through this meeting so you can sell your sex,” Alucard grinned.
I tensed, glancing down at my watch. Shit. He was right. I had almost forgotten about it in my excitement. “It’s in ten minutes,” I cursed.
Gunnar nodded, tossing a card onto the table. “Little heavy-handed, don’t you think?” he asked, pointing at it.
I set the satchel back in the box, staring at the card.
The Godkiller demands your presence for tea and cupcakes.
I shrugged. “I have tiny balls. I have to overcompensate where I can.”
Alucard burst out laughing, shaking his head. His eyes did latch onto my forearms, though, noticing my golden veins glowing for a moment. They did that whenever the Godkiller conversation was brought up.
“Still no idea what that’s all about?” Talon asked softly, indicating my arms. His silver eyes watched me, giving away nothing.
“I have plenty of guesses, but nothing solid.”
“And you don’t want anyone else to know that part, I presume,” Talon asked.
I nodded. “Exactly. Everyone knows more than they let on, which I understand. I’m not expecting anyone to share their every confidence, but I do expect some answers.”
“Well, in demanding your answers this way, you may have offended some of them. The Old Ones are like that,” Talon purred, sounding excited at the prospect of pissing off some important people. Gunnar frowned over at him, having to turn around, making it very obvious. He would need to work on his subtlety. Especially since he had a disco ball where his missing eye should have been. Discreet, he wasn’t.
“Time to domi-Nate,” I said.
Alucard groaned. “That’s not a thing!” he said, sounding exhausted. “You can’t just keep saying it, expecting it to just happen.”
Gunnar shrugged, leaning back into his chair. “Who’s staying?” he asked me, not turning to look. But he was staring at the three dragons pointedly, making his opinion clear. The kids shouldn’t be here.
I smiled darkly. “Oh, they’re staying. You’re all staying. You were part of the war, and are each fairly famous as a result. This is going to be fun. You guys are going to sit here looking serious and threatening. No smiles, unless you can manage Talon’s horrifying smile, the one that promises to enjoy murdering you while you sleep.”
Talon snorted. “My smiles are delightful. You haven’t seen the murderous smile yet. I save that one for when I
use the innocent eyes to draw my victim in…”
Alucard stared at Talon, shaking his head.
I told them the rest of my plan, and although they looked concerned, they also knew that their opinions didn’t really matter right now. I had called the meeting, and I was telling them how it was going to go down. If they didn’t like the rules, they could leave.
No one left.
Time for Master Temple to have a meeting with the scariest fuckers on the block.
Gods.
But it wasn’t really Nate Temple hosting the meeting.
It was the Godkiller, and he had a fetching new satchel from a girl he kinda liked.
Chapter 13
The guests stared back at me, waiting patiently. They had each sworn peace while entering Chateau Falco, since it was required to prevent an instant Karmageddon – for any slights or offenses performed in the past several centuries.
None of the parties were enemies as far as I was aware, but every guest was millennia old, so who knew what shenanigans they had gotten into in their rebellious years? I wasn’t about to chance that here in my home.
The Four Horsemen – cloaked and hooded – sat on one of the rocks beside the dragons, watching the gathering in silence. I couldn’t see their Masks through their hoods, which was probably best for everyone. They didn’t make for nice dreams.
Ganesh and Shiva sat side-by-side, talking lightly to each other, playing patty-cake with each of their four hands, increasing the tempo until it was just a blur. Then they both stopped at precisely the same instant, and slowly turned to stare at the Reds – who were watching them, amazed – with straight faces. The Reds blushed furiously, shifting uncomfortably as if they had been caught doing something inexplicably rude. Then the two gods burst out laughing, and the teenagers sighed in relief.
Shiva was in full splendor, flashing his third eye at everyone. He touched it at one point, and then used it to wink at Gunnar, indicating his eyepatch. Gunnar, not knowing what else to do, nodded back politely. Ganesh was in full elephant-man form, a crimson toned figure as large as the Minotaur, Asterion, who was calmly sitting beside him.
War Hammer: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 8 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 6