Nine Souls

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Nine Souls Page 15

by Shayne Silvers


  I had a few of my… well, the nickname had stuck, whether I wanted it or not.

  Temple’s Tiny Balls.

  In actuality, they were glass marbles that could open a Gateway back to Chateau Falco. Smash one on the ground and leap through. Land back here, with the backing of my friends and my house suddenly protecting you. Strong enough to keep almost anyone safe if they needed an immediate sanctuary.

  Roland eyed my pocket warily. “I can still make Gateways, Temple. Callie warned me not to try the other thing.” I nodded at that, almost having forgotten. “Keep your balls to yourself, thank you very much.”

  Callie burst out laughing.

  I scowled at the two of them. “What if they take you down and Alucard needs to get you out.”

  Callie’s laughter abruptly cut off. “Take it, Roland,” she snarled.

  He held out his palm obediently, seeing the truth to my words. I handed one of the balls to him, explaining what to do and where it would take him. I also handed one to Callie, just because. She stared down at it in silence, lost in her own thoughts.

  “Regarding the other means of transportation. Don’t talk about it… about the things we saw. It apparently makes them stronger. More numerous, possibly.” Callie’s face paled. Roland frowned, wanting to pepper us with obvious questions. I shook my head firmly. “I can’t talk about it. And neither can Callie,” I added, shooting her a meaningful look.

  Callie studied me in silence for a few seconds before giving me a resigned sigh. “Okay.” She mimed zipping her lips shut.

  Roland let out an annoyed sigh. “Do you mind if Paradise and Lost remain behind? I’d rather not take them with me. I don’t want another reason for the Sanguines to have interest in me, and I don’t know how they would react to so many vampires in one place.” He said all of this loud enough for them to hear from the hallway.

  “Sure. They can stay here if they want.” At Roland’s reaction, I let out a breath. “Or grab a place in town.” Roland nodded in embarrassment. “I can give them some of these,” I said, holding out more of the glass marbles.

  Roland nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll let them decide where they stay. But it’s probably best if they remain neutral. Keep an eye on all parties, not just your friends.”

  “You two should probably get back home soon. Make sure this craziness isn’t spreading.”

  Callie nodded, tucking her hands behind her head. “I’m heading back today. Looking into some… real estate for Roland.”

  Which made sense. With him not being a Shepherd anymore, it wasn’t like he could live in a church. But I didn’t like the idea of Callie heading back home alone. I also knew that if I even breathed that thought aloud, she would carve my ears off, so I kept silent.

  She’d be fine.

  Roland cleared his throat. “Alucard will be waiting for me,” he said, climbing to his feet. Callie did the same with a resigned sigh. She suddenly wrapped me up in a hug, whispering into my ear. “Wherever you’re really going, don’t do anything stupid or I’ll kill you.”

  My tongue actually tingled for some odd reason. As if the mere proximity of her lips so close to my jaw made my mouth salivate in anticipation. I grunted as she pulled away, calling upon my testosterone reserves. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”

  She tucked her hair into her hood and shot me a very considering look. “Like I said. Careful.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Get out of here, Bible Thumpers.”

  Surprisingly, Roland laughed just as hard as Callie. His cut off sooner, as if startled by it, but at least he had laughed. Baby steps.

  I extended my hand to trade grips with him. “You’re a good man, Roland. You don’t need anyone’s permission to stay that way. It’s in your DNA.” I told him, referring to his past as a Shepherd. If anyone could be a man of God and a vampire, it was him.

  He gripped my hand fiercely, his voice rough with gratitude as he mumbled, “Thanks.”

  Callie nodded out of his view, silently thanking me with her eyes. I shrugged.

  I stood in the doorway, watching them leave, lost in the lingering smell of strawberries in the air. Callie’s perfume or shampoo. Or maybe just her… Strawberries and sunshine—

  “Have you two boinked yet?”

  “Gah!” I shouted, jumping as my heart thundered out of my chest. I had forgotten all about the two werewolves behind me. “What the hell?” I shouted, rounding on Paradise and Lost.

  “I can smell your dirty lust, wizard,” Lost said with a cunning grin.

  Paradise nodded. “You really should just get it over with. Everyone says so.”

  My face flushed. “Scram, you two. Go find this White Fang asshole for me if you’re bored.”

  They shared a look in silence. “That’s not a half-bad idea. Of course, no one told us to do this. We’re just two nosy werewolves in a new city. Staying at a hotel that we paid for. Nothing to do with Nate Temple…”

  A slow smile crept over my face. “How… industrious of you. I’d hate to keep you.”

  Without a word, they slipped past me. One of them had a phone to her ear as if calling a cab.

  If they could find White Fang… maybe they could do some good while here.

  I was whistling as I walked back into my house in search of Alex. I wanted to talk with him before I left. I wanted to make sure he could take care of himself in my absence. And if my absence became more… permanent. I wanted to introduce him to my librarian.

  Pandora.

  Chapter 27

  Alex and I walked through the halls of the Armory, following the sounds of a harp near the balcony that always seemed to end up being the favored gathering spot. At least most times I had been here we always ended up in that area.

  “It’s very dangerous here, Alex, but I’ll keep you safe. Just don’t touch anything. Pandora doesn’t like her things to be touched.” Alex nodded soberly.

  I stepped through an archway and saw Pandora sitting on a cushioned stool, eyes closed as her fingers brushed the strings of a golden harp the size of a man’s torso. She had a distant smile on her face and leaned forward as if trying to hug the harp, or perhaps bring her ear closer to the sounds her fingers made dancing across the strings.

  I smiled at her, enjoying the tune. It was light, jubilant, and… faint. As if even though I knew I was in the same room as the harp, I was actually hearing something far away in the middle of the woods, echoing through the foliage. Some nymph luring me to my death.

  I shivered and turned away at the macabre thought. I’d heard songs like that before, and they were nothing like this. It was just… so entrancing. Almost the entire back of the room was actually a sandstone balcony overlooking a dry deserted wasteland. Not sand, but dry cracked rock, withered gnarled trees no taller than a man, and patches of dead weeds. No signs of life.

  In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure where it was. If it was somewhere real or something from Pandora’s imagination. Because this was the Armory – a supernatural weapons cache that my parents had tucked away into this pocket dimension. Pandora was their librarian – or perhaps she was one of the weapons to be kept from mankind – and she answered only to me.

  Well, she would also answer anyone I had let into this place, but ultimately, she had my best interests at heart. She had an encyclopedic memory of everything stored here, and almost seemed to share the soul of the place. Knowing with a thought whether anything was missing, where something was, or if anything was wrong with the place.

  One time not too long ago, she had almost committed suicide in order to prove her loyalty to me, and as she had crept closer to that moment of no return, the Armory itself had begun to fade more and more – the walls becoming vague, shifting columns of smoke and fog, like dust caught in beams of sunshine.

  I also knew that Pandora was kind of dangerous in her own right.

  Which you couldn’t tell by looking at her now. A young woman with olive skin, perhaps freshly eighteen – although her smoky eyes made me think of
two-thousand years of hot, steamy nights – and a fragile, yet pleasantly curvy, body.

  She and Achilles might have been friends with benefits – or something more serious.

  I watched Alex spin in a slow circle, jaw hanging open and eyes peeled back as he murmured to himself when he recognized – or thought he did – some particular piece. Because ornate wooden tables – all different shapes, sizes, designs and dimensions – displayed ancient items. Scrolls, wooden books adorned with precious metal locks, an ivory tusk with a golden cap on the broken end, bowls of treasure, thick glass vials of strange liquids, a glass orb full of shifting yellow smoke, weapons of every nation, some gleaming silver with priceless gems set into the hilts and scabbards – and even…

  I realized I had walked closer to a black spear, my hand outstretched to touch the black wooden haft – not looking too dissimilar from the wood of the Huntress’ new bow. One end of the spear was tipped in six inches of silver that depicted four howling, agonized faces, as if to represent each cardinal direction. The other end featured a matte-black spear tip that seemed more of a cross between a sword and an axe – an arced, deadly concave shape maybe two feet long. A black-roped braid wrapped three times around the wood, as if holding the blade in place, and from the rope hung two black silk bags about as long as the blade itself.

  The blade itself was black. Not painted, but as if forged from a black mineral of some sort. The blade’s edge was polished into a dark gray – as if that was the best that could be done with the dark metal. The reason for the odd shape of the blade was obvious. A single red ruby the size of a goose egg was set into the thickest section of the blade, right in the center.

  I frowned at it, something about the overall look tickling my memory.

  I realized my fingers were about to wrap around the wooden haft when the music suddenly ceased. “Hello, my Host,” Pandora called out. “And who is this tasty-looking specimen of a man?” she purred in a suggestive tone.

  I grinned at Alex’s yelp, turning to find him reaching towards a stand of ornate swords. I wasn’t sure if his yelp was in guilt for almost touching the merchandise or Pandora’s hint that she might like to touch his merchandise. Tall and strapping he may be, but experienced with the ladies, he was not. He stammered awkwardly, brushing a hand through his longish dark hair. “Al—” he attempted to state his name, and almost jumped to find Pandora suddenly six inches away from him, staring almost vertically up to look into his eyes.

  He actually flinched as her fingertips touched his chest and trailed down his shirt. The caress stopped at his belly, but didn’t break contact. His face was beet red as he struggled not to stare down her transparent, flowing toga. Until she had stood, I hadn’t realized how translucent the toga was. It was entirely see-through! As good as, anyway.

  “Al,” I repeated, grinning, “the lady killer. Lock up your daughte—”

  “Alexander Arete…” Pandora whispered under her breath.

  I flinched. “What was that?” I asked, leaning closer. I must have missed part of it.

  Pandora shivered as she took a step back, clasping her hands behind her back, which did nothing for Alex’s shame, only flaunting her assets. She turned to look at me, took a breath, and then bathed me with a radiant smile. “I spoke his name.”

  Alex cleared his throat, attempting to avert his eyes without appearing rude. “I don’t use that name. My biological father was never around.”

  “Can you so easily change your height? Weight? Eye color?”

  His mouth opened and closed a few times, and she clucked her tongue, her lips glistening.

  “I… no, what?” he finally asked in confusion.

  “I’m referring to you dismissing a name because your father accidentally made you. A name is a name is a name. You are not adopting the man with the name, you are accepting a heritage. Just because your father was a bad apple doesn’t mean the family tree should be cut down. The tree might yet one day produce a succulent, crisp, sweet—”

  “Apple,” I interrupted hurriedly. “Christ, Pandora. You’re going to give him a heart attack,” I muttered, watching as Alex desperately struggled to find something in the room without even a hint at femininity to its shape.

  Pandora blinked, looked him up and down again, and then beamed delightedly. “Oh! Oh, my. You brought me a virgin? How viciously cruel of you…” she said, winking at me.

  If possible, Alex’s face turned even darker. He was about to die of shame. “What was that about his name?” I asked, trying to give him a minute to compose himself. “Did you say Arete?”

  “You know I did, Nate,” she responded tersely.

  “Right. Well, I guess I’ll just cut to the chase since you can read my mind anyway. There’s no use drawing it out. Does his name have anything to do with this?” I asked, holding out my palm. The brand of my family Crest stood prominent, even though a burn, still remarkably clear even after the skin had healed. So clear, in fact, that the word Arete was still legible on the blade of the spear crossing the shield. The other weapon crossing the shield was a scythe – like Death carried – and that blade was etched with memento mori, which meant remember, you are mortal.

  “What an interesting looking blade…” she said casually. I frowned at her, glanced at my palm, and then turned back to her. She sighed impatiently. “Yes. The same word. Coincidence, I’m sure,” she added dryly, turning away from me.

  I turned to Alex. He shrugged. “Right. Is it, though? A coincidence, I mean?” I persisted, following her.

  “Of course not,” she snapped.

  Her tone made me pause for a moment. I found my eyes lingering on her cute little rear, and looked up hurriedly. I heard her chuckle and scowled. She could read minds, damnit. “Anyway,” I said. “I brought him here to see if you could give him a weapon. Something to help him defend himse— Hey! Where are you going?” I shouted at her back as she began walking away from me. Then she was gone. I saw her appear at the opposite end of the room, entering a hallway.

  Then she disappeared from view again. “Um. Was that a no?” Alex asked.

  “Follow me,” I growled as I jogged to catch up. Alex was hot on my heels as I followed her soft steps around one turn, down another hall, and then two more turns before I caught her sexy toga-nightie disappear through a dim doorway. How fast was she? I was almost running.

  I skidded into a hot, humid, steamy room, eyes searching for her.

  And saw some breathtaking side-boob.

  Chapter 28

  I gasped, spinning back around. Alex stood behind me, gaping openly like a deer caught in headlights. “Stop looking, Neanderthal!” I hissed, slapping him in the stomach with the back of my hand. He finally averted his eyes, and I risked a glance over my shoulder to see Pandora slip over a rock ledge and into a steaming pool. She let out a languorous sigh and a husky giggle. Her eyes sparkled at me through the steam. “He’ll see a lot more than that before the night’s through…” she whispered in a highly inappropriate tone.

  I coughed, holding out a hand for Alex to stay back. “Hey, Pandora. Did you… drink decaf or something this morning? Accidentally get possessed? You seem… different.”

  “Because I’m undressing a man with my eyes? Or because I’m speaking plain truth?”

  I blinked, unsure which of those I was supposed to answer, or if they were both rhetorical questions. “Right. Um. Alex is a kid. Let’s start from there. Then we can progress to the part that Achilles probably won’t be a fan of you doing… that first thing.”

  She laughed throatily, motioning for Alex to step closer. “Achilles and I walk different paths, now. Trust me. Our last… talk,” she said this in an amused tone, “was a make-up celebration. A farewell banquet. But this…” she purred, splashing the water playfully.

  I felt Alex looming behind me and pushed him back. “Down, boy. Down!”

  Pandora laughed again, and the tone sent a shiver right down to my toes. “Be easy, Nate. I mean him no harm. I’m jus
t glad I was chosen for this… onus.”

  I glanced at Alex, mouthing onus in a question. He shook his head and shrugged.

  But he looked ready and willing to find out. To take one for the team.

  I was giving serious thought to disbanding Team Temple. The founder got none of the perks.

  I studied her silhouette. I could barely see her through the steam. Well, that wasn’t true. As I tried to make her out, she suddenly became very clear because she had lapped over to the edge closest to us. Then she placed her arms flat on the rim of the pool and rose up to lean on them.

  I blindly flung up a hand behind me to cover Alex’s eyes, defending his virtue as I glared at Pandora. “Lower, if you will. I can see your suckle-knuckles.”

  She blinked, then glanced down at her prominently displayed chest. With a sigh, she slipped down into the pool to lean back against the far edge again, facing us. I squinted, then made the hand motion for her to get lower. She snarled, but obeyed. I finally dropped the hand behind me that had protected Alex’s eyes. “You’re safe, Alex. You can look now.” I said, turning to him.

  He was two feet to the right of me, having been in plain view of her show. “What?” he asked.

  Pandora laughed as I shot Alex a disappointed look. “Dad says no,” I finally said, folding my arms as I turned back to Pandora. “He’s a kid.”

  Pandora took on a lecturing tone. “He actually is not, Nate. Often, when the Queens take a boy in their Changeling market, the child stays the same age as he was when first taken. They are able to slow their own time for… maximum benefit. Alex was their prisoner for years in human time… Why else do you think he has aged so abruptly now that he is back… home?”

  I was shaking my head, but Alex had gone deathly silent. I looked at him and found him frowning at his own memories. As if… finding truth to her words.

  I glared at him. “Are you telling me that you don’t remember how long you were there?” I asked incredulously.

 

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