Tiny Gods: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 6 (The Temple Chronicles)

by Shayne Silvers

  I heard her squawking in the background as someone took the phone away.

  “This is Eae,” he shouted. “Can you hear me?” Louder this time. I had to yank the phone from my ear before he shattered my eardrums.

  “Stop shouting, Pigeon! I’m right here!”

  He lowered his voice, sounding angry. “Then why are you two yelling into the phone?”

  I took a deep breath, and let it out. Raego was smiling for the first time today. “Eae, you two are in danger. Yahn was infected by a dragon, and he might be coming to visit his dear old Grammy. He’s not himself, and we’re trying to help him.” I said, forcing out a calm tone.

  I heard him speaking to Greta in the background. He came back a moment later.

  “Greta doesn’t want to leave. And what do you mean, Yahn is infected?”

  I almost slammed my phone down on the ground. “Eae! Listen to me—”

  “If she doesn’t want to leave, I’m not making her leave. Nor is anyone else.”

  And he hung up. I stared incredulously at my phone. Then I met Raego’s amused gaze.

  “Do you think I would go to hell for killing him?” But he just chuckled. My mind raced. I needed to get to Greta’s house. I began planning, wondering how many dragons I could take with me, how many I would need, how I might be able to see him, since he was apparently a ninja dragon.

  A car horn honked outside, and I stared through the opening to see Tory pulling up.

  I clapped my hands together excitedly, rounding on Raego.

  “I think this might be a job for our resident Beast Master.”

  Raego nodded and began walking away. “Take care of it,” he growled before disappearing down the hall. “You two take the House of God. We’ll keep looking here.”

  Chapter 19

  The Reds had called Tory to tell her about Yahn, crying and sobbing, blaming themselves for his turn and then his escape. Tory, being an awesome mom, had come to console the Reds. But also, she was the self-appointed shifter-whisperer of St. Louis, and wanted to help.

  For which I was eternally grateful, having no idea how to find a dragon I couldn’t see.

  After she checked on the Reds, Tory and I Shadow Walked to Greta’s house, landing in her backyard to avoid anyone seeing us suddenly appear out of thin air. I looked up to see the lacy pink curtains slam shut. I muttered something evil under my breath, but Tory just smiled.

  “She’s an old woman. Just let her be.”

  I let out an angry breath. “Fine, let the pigeon take the house. We should be able to find a huge freaking dragon out here without divine intervention.”

  She nodded with a faint smile, and we began playing hide and seek with Yahn. But there really wasn’t anywhere to hide. “Yahn!” Tory whispered loudly. “It’s me, Tory. And Nate! We want to help you!”

  No response.

  I looked at her. “Can you sense a shifter nearby?”

  She focused, eyes faintly pulsing with green light. After a minute, she let out an exasperated breath, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

  “Maybe he’s not here yet,” I offered. “Let’s wait for a while. Maybe he’s having a hard time finding his grammy’s house from up in the sky.”

  Tory shrugged, sitting down in the grass, scanning the skies, waiting.

  I sat beside her, eyes flinching at every moving tree branch, falling leaf, and the kids shouting down the street. Life. Neighborhood sounds.

  We sat there for thirty minutes before I stood and began to angrily pace. I needed to get back home. Achilles was coming over soon, and I needed to ask him a favor. About the gorillas. Being late wasn’t going to help my case.

  “You sure he was coming here?” Tory asked.

  “How the hell should I know? Raego said they either go for food or somewhere safe. Home.”

  She just nodded. “Then we keep waiting.”

  I continued pacing, thinking back on Yahn’s interview. He had only been here a few weeks, so I doubted he had gone to his apartment. He hadn’t even fully moved in yet. And Greta had lived here for decades, with Yahn visiting throughout his childhood. This had to be the safe place he would go to. Where else could he—

  I began to laugh. “No fucking way…”

  “What?” Tory asked, scanning the sky as if I had seen him.

  “I’m going to play a hunch.” I held out my hand. She frowned at me before taking it. I Shadow Walked us to a roof in the city. Two taller adjoining buildings butted up against either side of ours, blocking out most of the sun, casting the roof in light shadows.

  We were in the warehouse district. Tango music could be heard through the building below.

  Because we were standing on top of the building where Yahn attended his dance classes.

  But we were alone on the roof, nothing sinister or scaly lurking behind anything. “Worth a shot,” I finally complained with a frustrated sigh.

  And a rumbling purr answered me.

  We both flinched, and Tory whispered, “He’s here!”

  “Yahn!” I whispered excitedly, grinning as I searched for him. “It’s me, Nate! We want to help you.” I stared at the brick wall where I had heard the sound, but there was nowhere to hide.

  Silence stretched for a few seconds.

  Then a section of the wall on the adjoining building shimmered, revealing a very small dragon that hadn’t been standing there a moment ago. I shook my head in disbelief as I realized what he had just done. I had never heard of that before.

  Now visible, he was my size, which was much, much smaller than I had expected the plump Swede to be in dragon form. To my regret, he wasn’t brightly colored, and he didn’t sparkle. His scales were dark in the dim light, like stone. He snorted, tail nervously lashing back and forth.

  I knelt down, holding out my hands with a big, welcoming grin. “Toe-tah-lee awesome! You’re, like, invisible and stuff!” I cheered.

  The dragon let out a chuffing breath, and then sauntered nimbly away from the wall, mouth open like a dog panting when his owner came home. He even wagged his tail.

  Tory stared, mouth open, trying to understand.

  Yahn stepped into the light, and his scales flashed brightly, reflecting the sun in a dazzling rainbow of colors as he moved. His horizontal-pupiled eyes were identical to his scales.

  “He’s fucking… candy-painted,” Tory stammered. “Like those gangster cars.”

  I grinned, nodding as I held up a finger. “And he can blend into the background. Like a chameleon.” Tory shook her head in awe, a slow smile splitting her cheeks.

  “He’s… beautiful.”

  “Toe-tah-lee,” I agreed, laughing as Yahn’s tail wagged harder. “Help him shift back. Raego’s going to shit when we tell him,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Candy-painted!”

  Chapter 20

  Raego hadn’t shit, as it turned out, but he had been stunned speechless. The Reds became very popular with the other dragons, everyone clamoring to find out how they had created such a magnificent dragon. Something none of the dragons had ever heard of before. With an idle comment, I had stated, straight-faced, that it was all attributed to Raego’s divine rule.

  He had heard me, and returned a very pleased, and thankful smile. I had only done it to appease him, because this had actually all been my fault, and I didn’t like owing anyone favors.

  After a private talk with Yahn, urging him that everything was going to be okay, and that he probably needed to call Greta, I had left. He had been the opposite of afraid, though.

  Because the Diva Swede had come back to a runway and an adoring audience, finding himself the center of attention in Raego’s home. A spotlight. Yahn was going to be just fine. But I knew Achilles would be waiting for me at Chateau Falco, so I had Shadow Walked back home.

  To find Achilles pounding shots with the other guest I had invited over to the house at the last minute. Ganesh. Who apparently adored absinthe. They hadn’t been drunk, but they had drunk enough to get rid of any lingering anger
at my tardiness.

  I had taken a few moments to tell them the story of Yahn, but since they had never met him, they didn’t see the humor in his color scheme. But they had been very impressed at the potential for such abilities. Chameleon scales…

  We now stood in a secret hallway beneath Chateau Falco.

  Ganesh cleared his throat beside me, eyeing me askance. “Are you sure you want me going in there?” He considered Mallory and Achilles. “Or them?” Ganesh was in his typical form, a giant, reddish-hued elephant-headed man. Kind of like the Minotaur, but less bull. Oh, and he had four thigh-thick arms. He wore a snake-skin belt that had magical healing powers over his thickly woven robes. The belt bore a hatchet on one hip and a noose on the other. One of his hands held a tiny mouse that suddenly crawled over the backs of his knuckles and up his arm to perch on his shoulders. It hissed at me.

  I had seen the rodent in a much different perspective the first time. Because the mouse could turn into a horse-sized rodent big and strong enough to carry Ganesh on his back. Because the rodent was his ride. Ganesh, or Ganesha, was the Lord of Obstacles in the Hindu pantheon, and his mount, Krauncha, was known as a creature that ate pests – an obstacle to farmers. Imagine a giant, warrior, elephant-headed man riding a rodent, and you’ll soon realize that my capacity for surprise was pretty high.

  But the world held a lot of surprises for me, regardless. Like candy-painted dragons.

  And Ganesh’s giant, carnivorous mouse suddenly the size of my fist. Hell, it could even talk! But seeing it now, one would think only, aww, what a cute little mousey!

  I nodded to Ganesh, scowling briefly at Krauncha. It flicked its tail, and suddenly disappeared in a tiny puff of air. Ganesh rolled his eyes, shrugging at me. I guess I had pissed him off. “I need different perspectives. You’re a god.” While with the Hatter, I had remembered Shiva’s conversation about Makers, and since I didn’t know exactly how to call out to Shiva, I had chosen his son, Ganesh. If Shiva knew it, likely Ganesh did as well.

  I continued, turning to the Myrmidon. “Achilles, although only a lowly drunken bartender with cankles, knows some gods…” Achilles smirked good-naturedly. He wore tight jeans, military boots, and a God Save the Queen t-shirt. But he had crossed out Queen with red paint, replacing it with Grimms, likely just to annoy me. He was very strong, and in great shape, but he was no beast of a man like my pal, Gunnar.

  Achilles was more like one of those smaller CrossFit guys, the ones who do everything with bodyweight. You know they’re strong, but they don’t look like ridiculous meatheads. That being said, he could react in any situation faster than almost anyone I had ever seen, and watching him fight was a thing of beauty. Perfect precision, both in his offense and defense. Like a snake. His blonde hair was tugged back behind a baseball cap that read Artemis’ Garter. Which had been the strip club where I first met the weredragons. The building had caught fire and a few people had died. And some dragon hunters had shot me off a roof.

  A rough night. But it felt like it had happened a decade ago rather than a few years ago.

  I scowled at him. “Are you trying to advertise all my past failures?” I asked, motioning towards his outfit. “Never mind. Of course you are.” He merely grinned back, tipping his hat.

  The two turned to curiously assess Mallory, who grimaced. “And he’s my… totally mundane, unassuming bodyguard,” I rolled my eyes, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Death told me you kept him out of the loop on something earlier today. For… not sharing, right?” Achilles smiled. Mallory muttered under his breath unintelligibly – which wasn’t unusual with his thick brogue – but it sounded hostile. Achilles grinned wider, because he smiled at everything. Torture. War. Death. Mayhem. Conflict. Anything unpleasant for others, really.

  “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about Patroclus,” I mouthed off.

  His smile shut down like a bank vault, and he shot me an aggressive glare instead.

  Ganesh frowned. “Patroclus… I’m unfamiliar…” his eyes grew far away, as if searching his memories. They snapped back to focus a moment later. “Ah, now I remember. You Greeks,” he snorted, a soft honk coming from his trunk.

  Because Ganesh had an elephant-head. So, he sometimes honked that great big trunk of his when he talked. He was dressed casually, which was significantly better than him wearing those ridiculously lethal, serrated blade attachments affixed to his tusks. Like I had seen him wearing a week ago on his way to a match up at the Fight Club.

  The one the gorillas had asked to join. A place where all the monsters could cut loose. Even those legends, gods, and beings who were usually prevented from interfering in our world. Because the Fight Club wasn’t in our world. Dying there didn’t actually kill you. Asterion’s Buddhist response to settling disagreements, I guessed. I had been killed there several times, only to arrive back home without any wounds.

  I had used this to my advantage a couple times, surprising the dickens out of my enemies and earning quite the reputation. Then I had struck upon the idea that those beings unable to act in our world could do whatever the hell they wanted there, without retribution, because it technically wasn’t in our world.

  I had given the monsters a playground. An arena to fight.

  To the death.

  And they loved me for it.

  Especially Ganesh. The peaceful, meditating, doe-eyed elephant-headed god was a different person entirely when in the ring. A straight-up killer.

  I wasn’t sure if he had any stipulations about not interfering in our world, because I had direct evidence that he had interfered a time or two, but regardless, these guys tended to leave our world alone. They were immortals, or the next best thing to it, and didn’t want to mess up their situation.

  And I have to admit, seeing Death, Ganesh, Achilles, Mallory, Gunnar, Van Helsing, and a dozen others cut loose on each other was downright horrifying – and majestic – to behold.

  All because of this punk wizard.

  The Vaults, or bank for Freaks, loved me for it, too. Because the receipts from the Fight Club were deposited with them, later used to invest in new bleachers and weapons. Ganesh had even voted to buy a hot dog stand. He fucking loved hot dogs. Or at least Tofu dogs.

  I realized everyone was staring at me. Well, not Ganesh. He was hopping from boot to boot chasing the birds carved into the massive wooden door before us. Like a kid at the zoo. Because the birds were alive. Or at least mobile.

  The door was a giant carving of a pond scene, complete with fish, a wolf, birds in the air, and a few other creatures. Occasionally, one of the birds would swoop down to catch a fish. When this happened, another fishling (baby fish) would magically appear at the bottom of the pond. The Circle of Life. I had yet to see the wolf catch one of the birds, but I was sure he had succeeded a time or two. He looked crafty.

  I reached out my hand to pet him. I felt his fur ripple underneath my hand, and he growled in appreciation. And like twisting a key, this opened the door.

  The door to the Armory. My Armory.

  A collection of weapons, artifacts, and dangerous magical doodads my parents had acquired and locked away over the years with the help of Pandora.

  Yep. That Pandora. The one with the box.

  She was the custodian of my collection. The collection my parents had deemed too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands. And then, like big stupid idiots, they went and gave me the keys.

  I turned to my companions, holding up a hand for them to wait. “Achilles has already been here, and unfortunately, has my trust. But you two,” I said to Mallory and Ganesh, “need to swear that you won’t ever come here without my express permission – each individual time you need my prior approval.” They nodded after sharing glances with each other. “And you will never take anything from the Armory without my direct permission.”

  Achilles chuckled. “You waited until the doors were open just to force them into this, didn’t you?” He laughed harder. “You bastard. Dangli
ng a carrot. Well played.” He clapped.

  Ganesh didn’t look as amused. Not mad. But not amused. I held out a hand, which held an artifact I had once taken from the Armory. A Binder. “Swear it. Now.”

  Ganesh honked in frustration, but Mallory instantly complied. Once finished, he smiled, looking grateful that I had granted him a brief sliver of my trust by inviting him here.

  I arched a brow at Ganesh, who finally complied. “I’m not mad at your lack of trust. I’m disappointed that a god is being forced to swear an oath to a thug wizard.” He smiled, but swore an identical oath.

  The Binder in my hand forced them to tell the truth, so I had no concern that they were lying to appease me, or using magic to trick me. Listen, it wasn’t that I didn’t trust them.

  But I didn’t fully trust them.

  The president doesn’t share the launch codes to his nuclear football either.

  An ounce of prevention, and all that.

  “Right, let’s go take a walk.” And I strode into the sandstone walls of the Armory.

  Chapter 21

  My mother squealed in delight, jumping up to her feet. She was an apparition, not entirely physically corporeal, a shade, a wandering soul. My dad grinned at me from the opposite end of the room where he had been reading a book. Death had allowed them to inhabit this place rather than the Underworld, after they had been murdered. Which was just swell. We could touch, but it felt… different. Still, I could hug them again. Which was more than most people ever got.

  “How is Indie? You ready for your big day?” she blurted, clapping softly as she grinned.

  My heart shrunk two-sizes-too-small, and my face must have matched, because she frowned.

  “Nate, what did you do?” she asked in a warning tone. “Never mind. Just go apologize. Right now.” And she folded her arms, tapping her foot angrily. “This can wait.”

  My dad was staring open-mouthed at Ganesh, either purposely avoiding my mother’s topic of conversation, or genuinely stunned to see the Hindu god, I wasn’t sure.