Mallory’s fog spread like wildfire. Everyone it touched went suddenly ape-shit.
Well, the wizards, anyway. The werewolves merely snuffed at the fog, and resumed their battle, but the wizards were suddenly attacking friend as often as foe.
I blinked at Mallory. “What the hell?”
He just winked, and threw himself into the thick of battle.
Chapter 27
With no time to question him, I flung my hand out at the nearest wizard, wrapping up his ankles with my whip. The ice burned his legs, giving him instant frostbite, and knocking him flat on his face. His head rebounded off the wet pavement, and I was pretty sure I had knocked him out cold. Also, fun fact, I did this a millisecond before a werewolf had lunged for his throat.
I had just saved the bastard’s life.
Part of me felt relieved at that, but part of me was angry I hadn’t been a second slower.
The wolf glowered at me, a familiar black furred beast. Ashley. Gunnar’s fiancée.
She bared her fangs at me and then took off to defend her brothers and sisters. I followed her, ready to not be so nice to the next son of a bitch in my path. After all, they had attacked a den of wolves. Their home. Because of me.
They had nothing to do with the situation. Yet their homes had been invaded by a gang of thugs who were intent on harming both those able to protect themselves, and those unable to protect themselves. Because fucking kids lived here, too.
No more Mr. Nice Guy.
I flung my hand up into the air, calling out to the saturated clouds that filled the rainy evening sky. They immediately darkened, and my pulse dropped from summoning such a doozy without any kind of preparation. The skies roiled and seethed, turning darker, and darker.
I heard a man shout, and felt my spell being attacked. I pretended to focus all my strength on the spell above, but stomped my foot into the ground, hard, splitting my mind into two pieces.
A pillar of asphalt burst from the ground directly beneath the wizard’s feet, upper cutting him in the groin with a geological fist. He actually squealed before flying a dozen feet into the air.
And I panted as I released the spell above.
Spears of condensed silver lightning hammered the wet earth like a storm of arrows, each only a few feet long rather than full heavenly bolts from the clouds.
And they only hit magic users. I immediately dove behind the pillar of earth I had used to take out the wizard, and the bolts of electricity hammered into it like blows from Thor’s hammer.
Because I hadn’t been able to eliminate myself as a target. Lightning was tricky like that. Especially on such a large, wide scale. I had simply painted a target on any magical user in the vicinity. But not the wolves.
Dozens of wizards lay groaning on the ground, impaled through the thigh, arm, shoulder, or hand. I pulled deep from the earth, holding my hands out like I was getting ready to commence an orchestra. A wave of purple smoke rolled over them, putting them all to sleep.
This only worked because they were already dazed, injured, and suffering from whatever the hell Mallory had done to them.
I almost fell over from exhaustion, legs and arms twitching, my whips fainter than they had been a moment ago, and sizzling on the wet earth at my feet as a result of my sharp tremors.
I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head. Whips only, from here on out. Mallory shouted at me from a nearby group of fallen wizards, pointing at his arm where one of the bolts had tagged him, a clean through and through. He was glaring. But I knew he would be fine, because he could heal injuries. Also, he deserved it.
I flashed him a careless grin, and set off to see if there were any more wizards or if the wolves had it all under control.
Luckily, I didn’t have far to go, and there were only three wizards still standing amidst a circle of snarling, sputtering wolves. The rain began to fall harder as Gunnar calmly strode up to the ring on two legs, utilizing his ability as an Alpha to appear as a hybrid wolf-man. He wore a singed trench coat – I was entirely confident it was just for the roguish look – as he approached on white-furred giant paws. His boots were gone, but he did wear shredded jorts, like a bad eighties sitcom. They had likely been jeans, and unable to accommodate his massive bulk during the shift, had shredded where necessary. Bits and pieces of soaked fabric decorated the parking lot where the other wolves had also shifted, shredding their clothes.
He rose higher than the other wolves, obviously, because he was on two feet, where the others merely resembled huge Irish Wolfhound-sized beasts. His white-furred wolf-head stared out from his popped collar, and his lone blue eye assessed the wizards before him, who each held a ball of fire in their palms, crackling whenever raindrops struck them. They looked manic around the eyes, probably terrified to find such overwhelming opposition to their sneaky attack.
The soaked wolves instantly parted for their Alpha. I shoved my way through the defensive ring, encouraging the wolves to make room by cracking my whip in the air above their heads. This startled everyone, even the wizards as they sensed another magic user.
“Friendly, here,” I managed, trying to sound confident.
Several snarled at me, but they did open a path so that I stood across the ring from Gunnar. Who looked at me with his one, very angry, eye. “You’re late,” he growled. “But there is still time for dessert.” He licked his teeth, eyeing the wizards hungrily. One of them made as if to let lose his ball of fire, but a lightning spear suddenly slammed into the ground, right between his legs, crackling an inch away from his family jewels, and halting his bad idea in its tracks.
Gunnar acknowledged Mallory with a slight dip of his head. Then he took a step forward, unsheathing his long, obsidian black claws. The wolves began to howl, some yipping as they paced back and forth, splashing in puddles, frenzied at the proposition of spilled blood.
“Your lives are forfeit. Make your peace.”
He took another step.
Like an idiot, I cracked my whip at his ear.
And the entire pack rounded on me, the newest threat. Gunnar lifted a paw to his ear, revealing a lone drop of blood. The eye that rose to meet mine was not that of my old childhood friend. But a fucking Alpha werewolf beyond reason.
His chest heaved. “You better have a damn good reason for doing something so suicidal. Because we like to oblige our guests,” he snarled. “Let him pass!” The wolves growled, but backed up a few steps so I could approach the three wizards and one very angry werewolf.
I saw Mallory shaking his head at me, urging me not to do whatever I was about to do.
I ignored him. He had served his purpose. Whatever he had done had caused just enough chaos to prevent any—
“They killed one of the pups,” Gunnar snarled, taking an angry step into my personal space. He towered over me by a good foot, dripping water onto my head from his snout. But even without the added height, he was good at looming, and being intimidating.
I let out a resigned breath at his statement, saddened at both the words, and what it implied.
“I’ll be the executioner,” I whispered, wiping my damp hair back from my forehead.
He shook his head instantly. “No. This is pack business.” And he shot a bloodshot eye at the wizards who were trying to look brave. “They all die. To send a message.”
I cleared my throat quickly. “Actually, this is on me. I want to make a proposal. Of course, you can do whatever you wish, because this is your territory, and I’m just an uninvited guest. I will abide by your decision, but I hope you at least hear me out…” I said very softly, but very confidently. This tone was important.
Because Gunnar, my childhood friend, wasn’t just speaking as my friend. He had a pack of wolves now. And they obeyed dominance. The law of the jungle. He wasn’t speaking to a friend. He was speaking to a wizard. Just like the wizards who had attacked, and killed, one of their own. So, I was sure to use words he could relate to.
Because he was in his Alpha form, a hyb
rid between man and wolf, not fully human. Not fully rational.
He studied me in silence, chest heaving, and the growls and whines began to grow louder, his pack growing angrier. He held up a giant paw, silencing them instantly.
“Peace,” he snarled at them, baring his teeth. “I will hear his proposal, and will make my decision afterwards.”
He turned to me, and I caught the barest flicker of my friend deep within the monster. He didn’t want to kill anyone. Well, a very small part of him didn’t want to kill anyone. He had been an FBI agent once, and those morals were still deeply embedded in his core values. But he wasn’t just a lone wolf any longer. He was the leader of a pack. A big pack. And he couldn’t apply only human logic to the situation at hand. He also couldn’t allow himself to be just a beast.
So, I had a chance.
“Speak, before I decide myself,” he growled in warning, glancing up at the dark clouds.
I took a breath. Then turned to the wizards, my face morphing into a very sinister promise.
“I do not come offering peace. I bring the terror…” The wolves were utterly silent for a breath, and then they began to grumble in anticipation, realizing I wasn’t about to take their prize away. Their vengeance. Their loyal devotion to their fallen child.
The wizards, on the other hand, stared at me with mixed looks of horror, shock, and incredulity. I maintained my smile. I think some of them recognized my phrase. I had said it once before, but more importantly, I had heard a band of brothers use the same phrase.
The Horsemen.
We bring the terror…
A flicker of movement between buildings caught my attention, but I masked my interest by pretending to look up at the darkening sky, only allowing my gaze to briefly settle on the four silhouettes watching the display from a distance. No one else had noticed them, which was kind of surprising, considering I was standing among a pack of monsters who tracked by scent.
I saw Death give me a firm, resolute nod, raindrops splashing against his skull Mask. Then they were gone.
What the hell? Had I called them by saying the phrase?
But none of this showed on my face. Just… a mask. A cool, emotionless mask.
Because I was ready to plant a flag in the blood-soaked earth like an exclamation point.
Chapter 28
One of the wizards opened his mouth to speak and I flicked a finger at one of the wolves nearest him. “You dare—” he began.
The wolf – shockingly – obeyed me in an instant, slicing clean through the hamstring of the offending wizard, before cockily trotting back to the circling pack. Gunnar nodded at the wolf, who began panting proudly, blood coating his tongue and teeth. He shook his fur, playfully spraying his fellows with water and blood.
“Like I said. I’m not here for peace. I’m here for war.” And, since I really wanted to make a point, and because Death had given me that nod with his brothers, I modified what I had been about to say. “And death. Right here, right now. But I am not heartless. I will allow one of you to survive.” The growls grew, and this time not in my favor. I smiled at Gunnar. “Of course, whether the Alpha decides to then let you leave or become a chew toy is entirely up to him. Because you have performed an act of war. Against an innocent party. In his territory. Against his family…” the growls leaned back in my favor, and one of the wizards actually pissed himself.
Gunnar seemed to grin, but I couldn’t really tell with his soaked wolf face.
Regardless, it looked downright terrifying to see him flash those long ivory canines.
I turned back to the wizards. “If he lets you live, you will be a messenger. To your brave lords and masters. Those willing to send you on a fool’s errand. A suicide mission. While they stay safe in their ivory tower.” I let that sink in, allowing silence to build, and their terror to grow to fruition. To ripen. And then rot.
“My message for them is this. You have played with fire. I have tried peace. I have tried understanding. I am finished. I will rain down such pestilence upon your hallowed walls as has never been seen before. I will bring famine to your gates, starving you out, circling your walls with my monsters, so that no food may enter your kitchens. I will murder hope, and birth terror. I will watch every single entrance – magical and non – in and out of the Academy, and…” I took a step forward, face expressionless, staring them in the eyes. Even the wolves were silent now. “I. Will. Eviscerate. Everyone. Slowly.” I wiped my hands together, finished, glancing back at Gunnar. “Tell me which ones die. And,” I glanced back at the three wizards, then shrugged my shoulders. “If you even want one of them to deliver my message or not.”
Gunnar stared at me, a carefully controlled mask, but I could tell that the human part of him was screaming at me. “Why are you taking this stance?”
“The Academy triggered the attack at the Gala yesterday. To try and shut down the school. Because they didn’t like me involved with yet more…” I met the eyes of several wolves, “monsters.” Their snarls couldn’t have been better if they had been rehearsed. I raised my voice to be heard over the din and the falling rain. “They later declared war on me, and all those I care about, because they hold a false belief about my intentions.” I shrugged, turning in a circle to address the wolves. “You are my family, not them. If they won’t listen to reason and logic, and instead pursue criminal, cowardly acts of war against me and mine, I will respond. They think me a lunatic? A warmonger? A villain?” I leaned in close, tapping one of the wizards hard on the chest. “I’ll show them a lunatic. And what happens when they fuck with a wizard who is friends with the Horsemen. When they fuck with a man who rides with the Horsemen.”
The silence was deafening.
I met Gunnar’s eye. He woodenly pointed at two of the wizards. I didn’t even turn around. I lashed out with my whips, cleanly severing their heads from their bodies.
And a very cold, dark, feeling plunged deep into my chest. I managed not to throw up, convincing myself I had done the right thing. These were not humans. They had killed a kid. And would have killed more without my help. Without Mallory’s help. All because they were misguided. But there was no reasoning with them. They were brainwashed by their masters. Killing two in such a horrific, loud way could – hopefully – prevent dozens of more deaths.
I told myself this, but didn’t entirely believe it. It didn’t change what I had done.
But Gunnar would have been forced to kill all of them if I hadn’t intervened. His pack would have demanded it.
I had hopefully saved at least one life today.
And, one small thing I hadn’t told anyone, was that I had lifted the sleeping fog right before my speech, allowing the fallen wizards to hear my words, but unable to move or act. The moment I had said my last piece, I had kick-started them. And they had fled.
Any second, the wolves would notice, so wrapped up in my drama that they hadn’t even considered the other fallen wizards.
As if on cue, a lone howl tore through the night, and the pack suddenly dispersed, realizing the other captives had escaped. Gunnar growled instinctively, then shot me a thoughtful look. I nodded one time, confident no wolves could see me. He let out a breath, and nodded back.
In thanks.
Both for saving the other lives. And for preventing him from making a decision that would have haunted his pack for generations.
Starting a war.
I turned to the last wizard, piss-pants, then looked at Gunnar. “The wolves are out. Or I’m coming after your families. Like you did today. I’m tagging in, because this was a criminal act. You might not have known, maybe you weren’t given all the details, but that doesn’t matter. You fucked up today.” He nodded, eyes wild. “Your boss has a beef, tell her to bring it to my house. You know where I live. I’ll leave the porchlight on for her.”
And I turned on a heel to walk away, glancing over my shoulder to nod at Gunnar. He nodded back, and then barked at the wizard. The survivor Shadow Walked out of there
so fast, I almost missed it. Mallory stepped up beside me, muttering under his breath, cursing softly over and over again. I silently opened a Gateway back home and stepped back into my office.
Mallory followed me, then waited. I closed my eyes, speaking directly to the house.
Prepare for war…
The rafters rattled as if the Beast was stretching her muscles. Yes, Master Temple… and she sounded entirely too satisfied. I fell into the chair, and began to sob as the realization hit me fully for the first time. I had just committed murder. Mallory grabbed the Macallan, and didn’t say a word, pouring drinks instead. I don’t remember much after that.
Chapter 29
Gunnar found me the next morning. I wasn’t sure how long he had been there. But I woke in my study with him sitting across from me, holding a glass of ice water and a bottle of Advil, smiling as he watched me with his one good eye. His other eye socket was covered by the eyepatch he often wore to avoid scaring children to death.
He began shaking the bottle of Advil like a crack dealer would to a junkie in a sleazy alley.
“Wakey, wakey, Horseman.”
“Avast, ye landlubber!” I rasped in my best pirate accent. He scowled, and ripped off his eyepatch, tossing it on the couch. My head hurt a bit, but surprisingly, not as much as I would have thought. “I managed not to drink myself to death…” I whispered, clearing my throat. “Damn it.”
“Kind of like New Orleans,” he smiled, recalling his bachelor party.
That brought up a smile. Well, the good parts made me smile.
Gunnar spoke. “Mallory did some of his voodoo to take off the brunt of the hangover. He said he left a little behind, because you couldn’t have a good night without a bad morning.”
Tiny Gods: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 6 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 14