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

by Shayne Silvers

  I nodded back, unsure how else to respond. “Thank you…”

  But it was a good move, because up until that moment, I had been very concerned about Carl. He had displayed odd affinities for Indie, as a result of her ties to his tree. I wasn’t sure if he saw her as a comrade, or worshipped the ground she walked on, but he had just proven that he was firmly on my side.

  I heard Helmut struggling behind me, and whirled, having forgotten all about him. The Reds had him subdued, laying on top of him, and Gunnar had the Grimm’s throat in his jaws. I approached slowly until Helmut was staring at me from out of his red dragon eyes. “Shift back. Now. Indie is down. Your next choice could determine her fate,” I said, my voice cold.

  He continued to stare at me, but he must have remembered that the only way to get his brothers back was with Indie. He needed her. In an instant, he was back to human form, naked and hairy. The Reds shifted back, as did Gunnar.

  Which left an interesting display of tangled naked people at my feet. Gunnar stepped back, grinning suddenly. “This job,” he chuckled.

  Because Sonya and Aria were suddenly naked and sprawled across the groin and chest area of a much older man. Like we had just caught them after the act of a very intense… studying session with their professor.

  Helmut grinned, glancing down. “That’s nice…” he growled.

  Sonya and Aria jumped back, glaring down at the Grimm, who only laughed harder at their embarrassment. I tugged off my shirt and threw it at them. “Share,” I said, realizing it wasn’t that big of a shirt. “Go get inside and get some clothes.”

  Sonya shook her head, throwing the shirt on the ground as she shot a hateful glare at Helmut. “Like I would ever get with such a hairy old man,” she spat, arrogantly placing her hands on her hips. But her eyes had assessed his package. Aria shrugged, and tossed on the shirt. It was long enough to just barely cover her rear, and Helmut grumbled his approval.

  Out of nowhere, Gunnar kicked him in the freaking head.

  Hard enough to knock him out. I turned to him in disbelief. He jerked his head over my shoulder, where Ashley was striding up to the group, naked as the day is long. “I didn’t want him taking a peek at my girl,” he said flatly.

  Aria nodded matter of factly, and Ashley, having heard his comment, gave him the most adoring smile I had seen from her lately. Then she began to kiss him, very intensely.

  Sonya cocked her head, studying them, and began a slow clap.

  Which brought the two wolves up short, panting lightly, but still clinging to each other.

  I turned to Carl. “Take them to the dungeons. You and Mallory are on guard duty.”

  Gunnar cleared his throat. “Is that a good idea?”

  I frowned back at him. “You two obviously need to get a room. The Reds will kill Helmut if he opens his mouth, and I’ve got some things to do.”

  Gunnar rolled his eyes. “I meant,” he dropped his voice, “because Carl has expressed some unique interests in Indie lately.”

  I nodded, turning back to Carl. “Swear that you will not let her escape.”

  “Always, Master Temple. I follow you.” And despite his recent actions, I felt the sincerity.

  I nodded back. “Gunnar, take the hairy one to Mallory. Unless you want to take him to the dungeon yourself. Have a little talk with him about wandering eyes…”

  Gunnar growled back at me as I walked away, unhappy with his situation, but I heard Ashley talking him down and offering to help. Which perked him right the hell up, refusing to let her touch the vile, naked man. I smiled as I walked away. Letting Carl pick up Indie.

  But I did glance over my shoulder, verifying that he did as I had told.

  I trusted him, but it never hurt to verify.

  Chapter 60

  I had told Gunnar to get his people ready an hour before sunset, just in case. I had also called Tory, telling her to get her students to safety. She had politely informed me that Raego had offered to babysit the students, and that they would be spending some time with Yahn… and the moonstone amulets. I had grinned, telling her when to be at my house. I had sent the Reds home to talk to Raego, letting him know of the situation.

  I had a few missed calls. One of them from Van Helsing, but he would have to wait.

  I called back the other missed call. “Yeah?” a gruff voice answered.

  “Returning your call.”

  Achilles grunted, recognizing my voice. “That was one hell of a show…” I could hear him grinning, practically drooling on the other end. He lived for the fight. “You still… you know. Nate?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “The one and only. No change, which is surprising.” He was referring to my Mask. And me becoming a Horseman. As far as I knew, I wasn’t one. No obvious signs that I had been recruited to the God Squad. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Things might get dicey here, soon. You bored?”

  “I don’t have plans. Was thinking of shutting the bar down early anyway. What did I miss?”

  I took a deep breath, and gave him the big picture. He listened intently, pausing me to ask a few questions, but generally, listening.

  He was quiet for a very long time, until I thought he may have been disconnected.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Just thinking.” I heard him making a drink, ice cubes tinkling, then he took a big sip. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my many years, man-child, you should almost always go after the broad.”

  “I have her here in my dungeon, actually.”

  He chuckled. “Not very conducive to a romantic encounter. Unless… she’s into that.”

  I sighed, wondering how I could get Indie to calm down enough to have a real conversation.

  “Just an opinion. I made the mistake of abandoning the girl once. For revenge.” Then he laughed. “Isn’t that ironic… Seems everyone is hunting for revenge, and for once, I’m the smartest man in the world.”

  “That can’t last long,” I smiled. “Bring your minions.”

  “With pleasure…” he purred, verifying the meeting time.

  I disconnected the call, scrolling up to call Van Helsing back.

  I jumped to my feet with a shout as the flip-phone in my pocket began to blare a pop jingle on full blast. “I just met you, and this is crazy. But here’s my number, so call me maybe.” My heart raced, but I answered it, willing to do anything to end the stupid song.

  “Cute, Cindy,” I growled.

  “Thought it appropriate. Wait, who is Cindy?” she asked, confused.

  “Cindy. Syndicate. Kind of rhymes,” I answered. “You never told me your name, so…”

  “Whatever. Listen. Ichabod has a Hand of God. Silver Tongue told us. And we can’t locate those in our possession. They seem to have been misplaced.”

  I sighed. “I heard… I had a chat with Ichabod last night,” I admitted, cursing to myself.

  “You met with him!” Cindy shouted into the phone. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  “It was under truce,” I replied testily. “I think we need to have a sit-down meeting. I’m not sure how your organization works, but bring some decision makers. I think we need to have a family meeting.”

  “Family meeting…” she repeated. “We’re not meeting with Ichabod. We’re not suicidal.”

  “No… your family, not mine.”

  She paused for a few moments. “That is very interesting. And what makes you think our ‘holier than thou’ siblings would deign grace us with their presence?”

  “Leave that up to me. They owe me a favor.”

  “Hmmm… White flag and all that?”

  “Yes, a shut-down Ichabod discussion. Then a fight. The rest stays on the shelf.”

  “I don’t think you’re clever enough to arrange that. They won’t listen. They’re very talented at the not listening thing,” she said caustically.

  I took a deep breath, because this next part was risky. If the Academy learned I was housing the Grimms, they mi
ght not be able to help themselves, wanting to kill them immediately. If the Syndicate found out I had the Grimms in my dungeon, they would take them and disappear, no question about it.

  “The two Grimms abandoned Ichabod. She wants to bring back the rest. And she doesn’t need Rumps any longer to do so. Judging from my brief conversation with the newest Grimm, I don’t think they’re drinking the Syndicate’s Kool-Aid any longer. They feel betrayed. And their new boss is not beholden to you.”

  “Yet,” she corrected.

  “True, but I’ll do you one better. She’s hell-bent on destroying you guys for some reason.”

  The line went very quiet, and I realized she knew something.

  “Which is only going to help her recruit…” I let that comment draw out for a few silent seconds. “Why don’t you tell me why she hates you. You know something. Maybe I can help.”

  “When do you want to meet?” she said instead, avoiding the question.

  “An hour before sunset. Ichabod is moving forward at sunset. This gives us time to plan, talk, strategize.”

  “Where?” she asked tersely.

  “Chateau Falco.”

  “No. Too much protection there. You could shut us all down.”

  “Yes,” I argued. “But if I really wanted to shut you down, I wouldn’t need the house.” She laughed out loud at that. “It’s also the only place the Academy will agree to, because of its protections. Keeping them safe from you. Two, I have some more Gurkhas…” I smiled.

  “Sold to the man with the Gurkhas,” she replied, amused, but I caught the momentary pause before she had replied.

  “Not-so-subliminal conversations, we were having,” I said in my best Yoda impersonation.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, weirdo.” And she hung up. Maybe the age-gap had killed my comment. Then again, I’d never heard an older woman like her say weirdo.

  I let out a breath as Sir Muffle Paws jumped onto my desk, landing beside a book. He looked at it, deeming it worthy of his bulk for the duration of a nap. He stepped onto it, performed three precise circles, and then promptly lay down, purring contentedly. I smiled absently, picking a new number on my phone as I set Cindy’s phone down.

  She answered on the first ring. “Yes?” she said in a clipped tone.

  “Remember that new club I told you about? We’re meeting.” I gave her the time and place.

  There was a very long pause. “We’re all going to die, aren’t we?” she asked.

  I wasn’t sure if she was being literal, or making a joke. “No. We’re going to behave like adults. Drink. Talk. Discuss our common goal. No history. Then we fight him.” I gave her a quick rundown on the situation, hearing her breathing grow faster on the other end. Not afraid, but definitely stressed.

  “How many do you need?”

  “All you can trust.”

  She paused. “You realize that this provides me an excellent opportunity to possibly ferret out some double agents. If I invite them, and they can’t show, they can be added to a list for me to later look into.”

  I sighed, understanding her position, but not having any time to care. “Do what you will. But you come in peace. Or you will leave in pieces.”

  She grunted instinctively, then cut it short, remembering who she was talking to, and our new positions. “I see,” she corrected. “We will see you soon.”

  “Wait,” I urged before she could hang up. “For the meeting, only bring yourself and one other. I want to make sure we’re all on equal footing. If they bring one, only you come in. If they bring two, you have a backup. Have the rest on standby for sunset at the Arch.”

  “And if they bring an army to the meeting?”

  “I doubt they would, because they don’t want to expose how many of them there truly are. And you would notice if a large chunk of your Academy was suddenly unavailable.” She murmured agreement. “Also, if they bring more than two, they wait outside. If they bring one, your backup waits outside.”

  “Smart,” she said approvingly. Then she hung up after a hasty good bye, not waiting for my response. It sounded more rushed than disrespectful, as if she suddenly had a thousand things to arrange beforehand.

  But even if she had been being petty, I didn’t really care. Let her have her small victory.

  As long as it got her wrinkly ass here in time.

  I tried calling Van back, but he didn’t answer, so I sat back in my chair, planning, scheming, trying to count three steps ahead of the upcoming battle as I idly watched Sir Muffle Paws doze away on my copy of Through the Looking-Glass, dreaming sweet dreams, not a care in the world.

  Chapter 61

  I had primped and preened, dressed in a tee with a casual sports jacket and jeans. I wore new boots, and had even trimmed up my beard a little, throwing on a bit of product to tame my wild hair. I looked and smelled fresh. But I stood on the other side of the door, not moving. Terrified. Anxious. Eager. Desperate. Angry. Hurt. Heartbroken.

  Because all that separated me from Indie was the wooden door leading to the dungeons.

  With a long sigh, I pulled open the door, and took a step inside, masking my emotions behind a calm, cool, and collected façade.

  The face of my father.

  The face of a Temple.

  Carl was already standing; no doubt having noticed me lurking outside for ten minutes. He dipped his head, and glanced over at the first cell. Indie sat on a wooden stool, facing the wall, but at least her back wasn’t pointed my way. Her hair was messy, and her clothes were stained and ripped in a few places, but she wasn’t bleeding anywhere, and looked unharmed.

  “Has she said anything?” I asked.

  Carl shook his head. “Not a word.” He pointed over his shoulder, past a second set of doors. “Helmut is down there with Mallory. He didn’t want them talking to each other.” Carl looked uneasy, anxious as his eyes darted to Indie.

  I frowned. “What’s wrong, Carl?”

  He turned back to me. “Have you seen my brothers?”

  “They are guarding the grounds, like they have been for the past few days.”

  He nodded, tension fading from his face. “Okay. I haven’t had time to check in on them, what with spending so much time with you at the mansion.”

  I smiled. “It’s okay. Juggling tasks is part of being a good leader. You’ll get the hang of it.”

  Carl nodded. “Very unusual for us. We stay close. Like a pack. Makes my skin itch not being near them for such a long spell.”

  I put my arm around his shoulder. “I’ll get you back with them soon. Maybe rotate one of them out for you here.”

  Carl suddenly stared out at one of the tiny fist-sized windows, distracted. A moment later, an owl flew by, a feather landing on the outer edge of the window. Carl let out a relieved breath, shooting me a sickly grimace. “Thought I heard something out there.”

  I felt a little uneasy. Was being away from his people that much of a drain on him? I really knew nothing about the Elders. This whole time I had been treating them like I would any other human. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe he shared traits with werewolves, needing to be part of something bigger.

  “I’ll get the hang of it. Just adjusting. No need to rotate me out, Master Temple.”

  I watched him for a few moments. He watched me right back, unblinking, which was one of his many creepy traits. Especially with his albino scaled lizard-like face. “Just let me know if you change your mind. She can’t get out of here on her own, and can’t use her powers here in the dungeon due to the wards, but I want to make sure we have a guard here at all times, just in case.”

  “Yes, Master Temple. I will let you know.”

  I stepped past him, closer to Indie. She didn’t move. Not even her eyes. She just continued staring at the wall, as if in a trance. But her breathing was regular, and as I tapped on the bars of the cell, her body shifted minutely, letting me know she was purposely ignoring me.

  “Indie,” I breathed. “Talk to me. I need
to understand.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “What happened? Why did you leave Ichabod? Why didn’t you come to me sooner? Why block me out? What did he do to you?”

  She let out a soft grunt of disdain.

  “I want to help.”

  “Then let me out of this cage so I can go destroy the Syndicate,” she said, voice monotone, not shifting her gaze in the slightest.

  “Not until you tell me what happened.”

  Her lips tightened. “What’s the old saying? Like father, like son?”

  Which lit me up like a bonfire. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you’re the only one who has ever experienced pain?” I roared. “Boo-fucking-hoo. You got an owie, and now the world needs to burn. Poor little Indie. Got killed, came back from the dead for a second chance, but that still wasn’t good enough for her highness. Got a buffet of power dumped into her lap, and ran away to train with a stranger rather than her fiancé. Scraped her knee, and decided to become a full-fledged terrorist. Not asking her fiancé – who hadn’t heard from her in months – for help, but put his entire city at risk as she had her temper tantrum. Even after I came in and saved the day, like I always do…”

  She didn’t reply, which only compounded my anger. My pain. My broken heart.

  “Your pride just couldn’t take it. The spotlight wasn’t on the once brilliant, once beautiful, bookstore manager I fell in love with.” I slapped my palm into the bar to enunciate each of my next words. “And. You. Threw. A. Fit,” I snarled, vision blurring, the entire cell seen through a red haze. “Then you almost killed my friend. Your friend. And stole from me,” I seethed. “But that wasn’t enough for Princess Prissy Pants, either. You had to attack a school of innocent, struggling kids.” I dropped my voice into a dark hiss. “I have a theory on that. You can’t stand that they are strong where you are weak. They overcome. You submit, masking your weaknesses behind a wall of excuses and finger-pointing. You’re not the woman I knew. You’re a coward.”