Unchained: Feathers and Fire Book 1

by Shayne Silvers

  What the hell was going on?

  We burst outside, and I saw Nate was approaching the corner of the house, urging me to follow. He darted around the corner, no doubt wanting to make sure we were still safe from another gang of monsters. I rounded the corner behind him, my fan suddenly hovering before me in case any more monsters, guards, or bullets were found to be waiting for me.

  But I found nothing other than Nate standing there, waiting. He held out a hand, and I instinctively jerked the spear away from him. He frowned at my motion, but held out his hand again, waving it as if I were mentally handicapped. Only then did I realize that he hadn’t been asking for the spear. He was trying to Shadow Walk us the hell out of here.

  I obeyed, slapping my palm into his just as screams and pounding feet burst out of the door to the house behind us. The world snapped to black, and a heartbeat later we were back on the roof of Nate’s hotel, a faint cracking sound echoing off the nearby buildings. I collapsed to my knees between the table and the raised ledge overlooking the streets below, panting anxiously, reflexively darting my eyes around us to make sure we were safe.

  Just then, the door to the roof opened, and I whirled, spear tucked behind my back.

  Richard, the manager, stared at me kneeling on the ground, and looked embarrassed that he may have startled me into falling down. He flicked an uneasy glance behind me, as if hoping Nate hadn’t seen. I turned to see Nate behind me, staring out at the city, calmly drinking his wine, oblivious. I turned back to the manager, grinning sheepishly. “You surprised me,” I said.

  “My apologies, Madame Upchurch,” he dipped his head politely. “Do you need my help?” he asked, taking a step forward. I shook my head, climbing to my feet. He obeyed, halting his advance. Then he called out towards Nate. “I phoned your room, Master Temple, but you didn’t answer. I wanted to see if you or your guests required anything…”

  “Thank you, Richard. My other guests are downstairs, likely freshening up for our night out. Madame Upchurch and I came up for a spot of fresh air.” His voice was cool, clipped, obviously lost in thought. He hadn’t turned to look at Richard. “That will be all.”

  The man bowed, even though Nate wasn’t watching, and then shot me an apologetic look. Then it hit me. Judging by Nate’s cool tone and my embarrassment — not to mention me on my knees a pace away from Nate — he had to have assumed the worst, that he had interrupted a very, very private moment. Like a first kiss, for example. Or something even more scandalous… Richard blessedly closed the door behind him before I could die with shame, leaving Nate and me alone on the roof.

  We had done it.

  So, why did I feel like our problems were only just beginning?

  I calmly walked up to the table and poured the rest of the bottle into my glass. I shoved the spear into my back pocket and took a deep drink of the wine as I looked at Nate’s back.

  He didn’t turn, just continued to watch the skyline before him, and I had a momentary vision of him, superimposed over another. Like Alexander the Great staring out at his kingdom.

  I let out a breath and finally stepped up beside him, not speaking for a minute as we enjoyed our wine in silence.

  “They were waiting for us. Waiting for me. It was a trap. You were right.” I finally said.

  He nodded absently, not looking at me.

  “I need to get this to Roland. He can take care of it.”

  He nodded slowly, still not turning. I saw that he was holding his wine with his injured hand, blood staining the stem of the glass. I winced guiltily.

  “Sorry about that. I thought—”

  “I know what you thought,” he said softly. “It’s nothing. I’ve been hurt worse.” His eyes were distant, or looking inward, one of the two. Either way, they weren’t here, in this moment. Like I didn’t matter. He was done with me. We had done the thing, and that was that. He looked like a man thinking on his to-do list, neatly placing a check next to the silly girl with the white hair.

  “Would you like me to join you?” he asked, interrupting my inner pity party.

  I blinked, caught off guard by my momentary flash of anger. But why was I angry? He had done what he said. I had done what I set out to do. We were finished with the job. I had told him I wanted to do it my way, so I had no right to be angry.

  “No, I’ll be fine. I’m sure you have other things to do…”

  He nodded absently, and I found my unjustified frustration rising, even though I knew that wasn’t fair. Maybe it was his lack of interest. I didn’t like being treated like Richard.

  He saw me as a tool. Used and discarded after I had served my purpose. I turned to leave and his hand flashed out to lightly grasp my hand, the one not holding my wine. I felt a unique impression on his palm, almost like a raised scar of calloused flesh, but it took everything I had to hide my sudden intake of breath.

  “Relax. Finish your wine. Take a breath. These moments are golden. You never know when you’ll get another one…” he trailed off, and I could have sworn I heard him add something in Latin under his breath. It had sounded like Memento Mori but I didn’t know what that meant. A memento? Who was Mori?

  But I nodded, letting out a breath, pretending to comply, but really using the excuse to calm myself. I was all over the place tonight. Perhaps it was fear from the unknown. The vampires had known I was coming. And someone had done an exceptional job framing me. But I had the spear tip. That was a win, right?

  I caught the last of the setting sun touching the rim of Nate’s glass and hid a sudden grin. He was drinking from the glass I had sampled earlier. I watched as he lifted the glass to his lips, exactly where the faint imprint of my lipstick was. A small smile touched his face, and I had to suppress the shiver that tingled my lips. Was he smiling at the taste of the wine, or… the taste of my lipstick? Or merely amused that he realized he had grabbed the wrong glass. I didn’t dare ask. Didn’t want to ask.

  But there had been that tingle on my lips.

  I was just fuzzy from my lunch date, hungers long buried suddenly roaring to the surface, hungry for a touch of flesh on flesh.

  That was all.

  His smile grew wider and he hummed lightly to himself before taking another drink. I peeled my eyes away, staring out at the city.

  It was good wine.

  Nothing else.

  “To Mori, whoever the hell he is,” I said, smiling at him. He flinched, rounding on me in surprise. He watched me for a second, and then began to laugh, deep belly laughs.

  “To Mori,” he laughed again, raising his glass.

  I clinked my glass against his. The two marks of lipstick-stained glass touched, and my stomach fluttered again. He didn’t seem aware, still chuckling at my toast.

  Chapter 31

  Roland held the spear before him, studying it intently, eagerly. “Incredible, Callie. Truly.”

  I shifted from foot to foot, glancing back at Claire. She looked smug at her involvement in my victory. “Thanks for covering for me.”

  She shrugged, smiling. “Felt pretty cool. Like I was in a movie or something.”

  “You were sure to use my name?” I pressed.

  She nodded. “Yep. My coworker, Jenny, wore her hoodie just like you asked, just a bit of a white hair clip-on showing, and I made sure the reservation was under Callie Penrose. We had a nice dinner. Not that I understand why. It’s not like anyone important goes to that place.”

  I smiled back. “I know a handful of cops that do. I’ve never been there without a cop present at a table. The nearby precinct loves the burgers they have. And the Guinness, judging by the few that have hit on me there. You used my card?”

  Claire nodded. “Yep. Jenny paid for dinner with the card I slipped her.”

  Roland was watching us curiously. I shrugged at him. “I told her to have a trusted friend,” I shot Claire a questioning look, and she nodded adamantly, miming zipping her lips, “pretend to be me and pay for dinner. Just in case there are any questions or reported
thefts later. Or if anyone is following Nate Temple’s acquaintances in town. They’ll know that the girl that spoke to him briefly at the auction was at a dinner tonight, paid for it, and hopefully a cop or two will personally back up my story. If not, they have my debit card used there.”

  Roland nodded, a very considering look on his face. “That is very… devious of you.”

  I shrugged, not wanting to take too much credit. “Nate told me I should have an alibi. But the plan was all mine.” I wanted to make sure I was honest with Roland. His face seemed to demand it, even with something as innocent as this. He never would have known otherwise, but I felt better coming clean. “So, how do we get it to the Vatican?”

  His smile faltered. “We can’t do that yet.”

  I frowned, confused. “I thought if I got one of the pieces out of their hands…” I saw the guilty look on his face. “What’s going on, Roland?” I demanded.

  He sighed, setting the spear down on the blankets over his stomach. “We need all the pieces. One piece can call out to another if the right person knows how to look for it.” I gritted my teeth. “And since the Demon is hot on your trail, I fear she will know how to use it for that.”

  “And when were you going to tell me this part?”

  He met my eyes. “I had hoped to be up and out of bed before you got it. But Claire says my convalescence will be longer than I thought.” Claire’s look told me the other side of the story. Roland had likely intended for it to be a two-day bed rest, when it was obvious to anyone with half a brain that he would be down for at least a week. “I had intended to help you get the other pieces. But it looks like your efficiency has brought you another task. No good deed goes unpunished,” he smiled, trying to douse my anger with a sense of pride at a job well done.

  I scowled back, not falling for it. “I need to get the other two pieces.”

  He nodded, at least looking a little ashamed. “Nate will help. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew this would be the case already.”

  I began to get pissed off, remembering the quiet moment Nate and I had shared less than an hour ago, sitting on the roof. He hadn’t been quiet because he was dismissing me. He had been planning our next move, knowing that the game wasn’t over. His distant attitude took on a new light now as I imagined him scheming, planning, and calculating our next play, all while leaving me unaware.

  Letting me think we were finished, and ready to part ways, but knowing that wasn’t the case.

  Like a small test.

  Would these assholes — as different as they were — never cease playing their games, trying to be delicate with me? It was downright infuriating. Sure, I had been nervous, terrified even, about my first job, but I had done well! I wasn’t a piece of porcelain on the shelf.

  Every single man I knew seemed ready to protect me from bad news, whether I wanted it or not.

  “Fine,” I growled angrily. “How do we keep that one safe while I get the others?”

  “I can mask it for a time.”

  “Of course you can. I’m sure you told me that already, but my tiny female brain must have dismissed it because it was too scary,” I snapped, appreciating his resulting wince. “I’m going to get a drink. Perhaps the bartender won’t be scheming behind my back. Claire, let’s go.”

  “Callie—” Roland pleaded.

  “No, Roland. I’m always honest with you. Always. Even with the alibi thing. I didn’t have to give Nate credit. I could have let you believe as you would. But I didn’t. I told you the truth. You didn’t. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” That one hurt him, but I didn’t care. “I’ll be back later.”

  And I stomped out from the room, ignoring his protests behind me. I heard Claire grabbing a light jacket as she hurried out of the apartment and joined me in the hall.

  We sat in a bar, walking distance from the apartment, but one I hadn’t checked out before. I hadn’t wanted to see any familiar faces. I was two shots down before I felt calm enough to smile. It took me one more shot to use words. I leaned close to Claire. “Sorry. It’s just… that man!”

  She nodded, accepting my apology, although her smile let me know it wasn’t expected or needed. A mischievous gleam entered her eyes. “You talking about Roland, or… Nate?”

  I shot her a look of pure murder, opening my mouth to say one name, but I let it float away unspoken as I gave her a faint smile of my own, although mine was frustrated, not at Claire, but at the situation. “Both, I guess,” I finally admitted.

  She nodded, then patted my shoulder comfortingly. We talked idly for a few minutes, not wanting to discuss any dangerous topics in such a public place. It felt nice. To unwind. Remove the Freak stuff. Just be a young, single girl on the town. No vampires. No billionaires. No cryptic, conniving old warrior priests. Just girl talk. Soon, I was laughing, and drinking at a reasonable pace, enjoying the slight, comfortable buzz filling my head. Just enough to relax me without mental degradation.

  “Before you showed up, Roland heard from the hospital. Father David is doing okay. He woke a few times, but is still delirious, and the heavy pain-killers in his system didn’t let him stay awake long. But he’s expected to be fine.” I let out a breath of relief.

  “Thanks for telling me.”

  She shrugged, looking around the bar for a few moments, people watching. She straightened, setting her empty drink down. “That stuff goes right through me. I’ll be right back,” she said with an odd grin on her face, slipping from the stool. Was she drunker than I thought?

  “Buddy system?” I sighed, untucking my leg from the stool.

  She gripped my shoulders, stopping me. “Oh, no. That’s okay. I’ll be back in a minute or two.” She was still grinning, but she slipped away before I could press her.

  “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” a familiar voice chuckled from behind me. I whirled on my stool.

  And came face to face with my lunch date, Johnathan.

  “You’re stalking me,” I finally said, flashing him a surprised smile of delight.

  He held up his hands. “Guilty.” Then he shook his head. “Actually, you’re on my turf, now. I always go here.”

  “Oh? Then how did I meet you at that other bar last night?”

  “My little sister dragged me there kicking and screaming. Remember?” I nodded. “That was her bar. This one is mine.” He leaned closer to whisper a secret in my ear. His minty breath and faint cologne were pleasant. “I don’t tell her about my spots, though. She’ll ruin all my fun.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fun like picking up drunk chicks at your bar? Or asking them to lunch the next day?”

  He frowned at me, his mild disapproval plain. “No. Any idiot can tell you that never works. I can honestly tell you that I’ve never picked up a girl for the night at a bar.” He didn’t sound upset, exactly, but he did sound… adamant.

  I nodded shyly. I hadn’t meant to offend him. Just to tease, but it felt nice to see him get defensive about it. It… put truth to his words. “Sorry,” I mumbled, wondering if Claire had fallen into the toilet. Then I scowled, rethinking it. She had seen Johnathan, recognizing him from last night, and snuck away as fast as possible. Sneaky little shit.

  Chapter 32

  As if reading my thoughts, Johnathan chuckled. “I like your friend. Good wingman.”

  “Yes. I’ll have to talk to her about that,” I said with mock severity. It felt nice to be back in the normal world. No one trying to kill me. A nice boy flirting with me. Someone more like me. Not some out of town billionaire. “Too bad there’s no dancing here…” I said without thinking.

  He sighed. “I’m white. No dance skills here. Unless it’s the classical stuff.” He took a drink to drown his sorrows at such an unfair world.

  “Of course. You know the Waltz. What was I thinking?”

  He shrugged. “Mom made me learn when I was young. In case we ever traveled back in time to the Renaissance, or something,” he rolled his eyes. “Never had to use it.
Shocking.”

  “That dashing without it, eh?” I teased.

  He choked into his drink, wiping his mouth as he turned back to me. Then he held out a hand to his reaction, as if proving his point about not being dashing. “Not remotely. Never tried hitting on an old lady before, though, so maybe I’ve just been barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Good luck with that.” I looked over Johnathan’s shoulder, and saw Claire lurking near the opposite end of the bar, talking to a handsome, blonde-haired guy and his two friends. She craned her neck my way, making sure I had fallen for her trap. She even flashed me the thumbs-up sign. The blonde guy shifted bright blue eyes my way, and he dipped his chin pleasantly upon seeing me looking back at him. Not in a creepy way, but a polite hello. Which felt nice. Of course, he was probably trying to get into Claire’s pants, so befriending her friend would be helpful to him. His gaze drifted to the back of Johnathan’s head for a moment before he turned back to Claire.

  “So, what are you doing here? Didn’t you say the other place was your usual bar?”

  I nodded. “Wanted a change of scenery. Last time I was there, some jerk tricked me into lunch. I didn’t want that happening again. Imagine my surprise…” I feigned a resigned look, but he just rolled his eyes.

  “You’re in my bar, now. Perhaps you should take a lesson and ask me to lunch.”

  “How about a booth?” I asked without thinking, then flushed.

  His grin stretched from ear-to-ear. “Deal,” he said, and grasped my hand, tugging me towards the nearest booth, even darting ahead of a waitress before she could sit a couple down in the spot he had picked out. The waitress didn’t look pleased, but his smile was infectious, because she only shook her head with a light sigh. The couple following her — a young, likely broke college couple — didn’t even appear to notice. “Better tip well,” the waitress muttered to Johnathan.