Wild Side: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 7 (The Temple Chronicles)

by Shayne Silvers

  I frowned. Asterion nodded. “I tasted no blood this day, either.”

  Then I remembered what Achilles had said. About playing a game. “I don’t understand.”

  “If you had entered the field, we would have been forced to meet you in battle. Since you did not, we were able to… not participate,” Asterion said in a gentle tone. I frowned harder, not understanding. As soon as Athena had called the horns to war, all my Greek friends had disappeared. Why, if not to join their brethren, their goddess.

  “I made a deal with War before the other one showed up,” Achilles said.

  I almost jumped to my feet. “Ares! Are you shitting me? I’ve got him to worry about?”

  Achilles held out his hands in a calming gesture. “No, the true God of War. The one who doesn’t need to add the word god before it…” he said, meaningfully.

  I flinched. The… Horseman? Achilles slowly lifted an arm to point to my right. A red-haired young man stood a hundred paces away, looking familiar, but definitely not like War. He held up a circle in his fist, and I froze. The man from the Land of the Fae. The stranger who kept appearing with a handful of fingers in the air, as if trying to tell us something.

  “Weeks,” I murmured under my breath as he began to approach, suddenly understanding.

  “Yes,” Achilles said. “He was trying to warn you about the time slippage in the Land of the Fae. How many weeks you’d been gone. He couldn’t speak with you, and couldn’t gesture to you in an obvious way. So he chose that form, and sent you curious motions from a distance, getting as close to breaking the rules as possible.”

  The man finally reached us and sat down, watching me. “I couldn’t very well use Morse Code, although I did think about it. Not that Wylde would have understood,” he added with a dry chuckle, suddenly transforming to his usual scarred self. The other two didn’t flinch, so they either still saw the same man, or they were used to him changing appearances without warning.

  I stared at him. “You spoke with me. Before I left…”

  He nodded. “And got yelled at for it. Even though I hadn’t broken any rules.”

  I nodded, turning to Achilles. “You made a deal with War, and… that trumped your oath?”

  Achilles looked uncomfortable. “Well, there’s no need to start using dangerous words, or anything, but my oath to War would trump Athena, had it been discovered. And I would have likely been murdered on the spot. But… since we obeyed Athena, and she only touched down that one time…” he shrugged guiltily. “I didn’t do as good of a job as I should have with the boys. Shit happens,” he added with a roguish grin.

  I turned to Asterion. “And you?”

  He shifted, fingering his beaded Buddhist necklace. “I was placed under Achilles’ command. Somehow,” he added, looking guilty as shit, but not elaborating. “Bad management all around. Then Hercules, the big idiot…” he added, shaking his great big horns, “was never meant to lead men. Never even realized how poor of a job Achilles was doing. Then again, no one wants to question Achilles too closely.”

  Achilles grinned at the compliment, and then leaned forward. “That stunt with the selfie. Did you know it went viral?” he chuckled. “And the hat! Make Greece Great Again!” he bellowed, slapping his knees. He actually wiped a tear from his eye. “He was so mad about that he could hardly think straight. Believe it or not, that had as much of a factor in this win as anything else. If he had been paying half the attention to our army as he was about the number of shares and likes that stupid picture was getting…” he trailed off, still laughing.

  I smiled sadly, glancing at his corpse. “He fought well. In the end.”

  Achilles looked surprised to hear me say it, and then sick to his stomach at the thought of Ashley. “Not well enough. To think, a mortal killing one of history’s greatest legends… That deserves a ballad,” he said, folding his arms. “Especially now,” he added in a sad whisper.

  My golden tattoos must have faded, because I no longer felt them, and I wasn’t casting light on them. Asterion spoke, his low tone rumbling in my chest, and I realized I was simply staring at the ground, exhausted. “The world is close to a tipping point, and more people believe in the Horsemen than the old Greek Gods. It’s why the gods like their Makers. To help people remember who they once were… and still are.” He brushed his sausage fingers dramatically, as if wiping away filth. “Well,” he continued, glancing over at the fallen bodies behind me. “Problem solved. Even a temporary Horseman was able to kill a god. So, what does that say about the full Horsemen?”

  War didn’t say anything, and neither did I. I hadn’t used my Horseman power on the god. We both knew it. Even if Achilles and Asterion seemed to think I had.

  But telling them that would only make them fear me more.

  My throat was suddenly tight. War gripped me by the arms, respectfully and protectively, and pulled me to my feet. As a brother would. “We should take a walk. Talk. About… things.”

  I nodded, waving absently at Achilles and Asterion.

  Chapter 65

  We walked to the other side of the tree, towards the Huntress and Alex. Pegasus and Grimm stood apart from the humans, convinced of their safety now that the Greeks were gone. I would need to fix the wards and the wall, and get Dean to help with the injured since we no longer had Pan to help.

  So many things to do.

  “You kidnapped the Huntress,” I said absently. “To make sure I was preoccupied.”

  War nodded with a sigh. “I knew it was the only way Tory could make it back. And the only way to get you to go. Knowing a friend was in danger.”

  I nodded tiredly, remembering our talk on the roof. He had pretty much apologized in advance, I had just been too thick to realize it at the time.

  “That’s twice you’ve donned the Mask, now. To borrow the power. Maybe third time’s the charm?” he asked, chuckling.

  I sighed. “How pissed are the others?”

  War turned to me, frowning. “Why would they be pissed? Death practically set up the Pay Per View so we could all watch.” He pointed a finger at the sky, and I saw a small portal staring down at us. Three cloaked figures gave me proud nods before it winked out.

  When I turned to look back at War, he was gone.

  I let out a frustrated sigh, ignoring Wylde’s dry chuckle in the back of my mind. He had been quiet since Athena. Either pissed or otherwise occupied with his flock of cavewomen.

  I continued walking, heading towards Alex, fearing the conversation ahead, but knowing he needed to talk. He looked sad, despondent, and although not too young, he looked like a little boy at the moment. A little boy who had lost his mommy.

  I mentally prepared myself for the tough conversation, and tried to come up with a solution. Did he stay here, now? Did Tory look after him? I didn’t want to treat him like a package, handing him off to whoever would—

  I saw a flash of light to our right, and I reacted without thinking, jumping in front of Alex on instinct, since the Huntress was fidgeting with her bow. A bar of light hammered into my palms, scorching, burning, and…

  Doing none of that.

  I was simply imagining what it felt like, because as I stared down, I realized I felt nothing. The bar of lethal light struck my palms, and… that was it.

  I shoved, and the attack slowly receded.

  A feral howl answered me, and I finally looked up to see Matthias, eyes dancing with bloodlust, spittle flying from his lips as he began to shout. “I will take EVERYTHING from you! Freeing me, only to murder my son, before my very eyes!”

  His power trebled, and my arm began to shake, my palm crackling and sizzling.

  It was the palm with the brand on it. The Temple Family Crest. And although I could hear it burning, I felt nothing. Sweat began to pop out on my forehead as I groaned, pressing back against his Maker’s power, my ancestor’s power.

  The power of a grieving father.

  Willing to kill his own descendant.

  I pres
sed back, and his eyes grew wilder. Then, several more bars of power formed around his head, and immediately lanced past me, right over my shoulder.

  And struck the Huntress. One of her arrows flew true, hammering into Matthias’ stomach before she was knocked backwards a good thirty feet, dropping her bow. Alex was screaming.

  I was screaming. “YOU WILL NOT HAVE HIM. ALEX IS MY FAMILY!” I roared, and suddenly the unicorn and winged horse, Grimm and Pegasus were airborne, circling the Maker with lethal intent, even if it cost them their lives.

  I took a step, feeling as if my soul was ripping away, pressing back his attack. He snarled, hissed, and screamed. I saw people running our way, wolves rolling over the hills, dragons circling the skies, but knew they would be too late.

  Although I felt no pain, my soul was dying. I could tell.

  But that didn’t fucking matter.

  Alex needed me.

  And I’d be damned before I let anyone hurt my kid.

  As I held his beam of power at bay, I began grasping at the shadow cast by the giant white tree behind me. It was massive, and my mind began to splinter as I tried to manipulate it. But ever so slowly, it shrank, and a great hovering blanket of shadow slowly formed above our heads. Matthias’ face turned pale upon seeing it.

  “This isn’t over, boy. Not by a long shot. Breaking you will be fun. My new life purpose. You and Castor Queen will die in agony,” he promised. And with a thunderous crack, he disappeared.

  I collapsed.

  I realized I was whispering out loud. “It wasn’t me, Matthias. It wasn’t me…”

  Someone gripped my face, and they were crying.

  Chapter 66

  The sensation of many bodies crowding me woke me. That unexplainable sense of being trapped. My eyes shot open, and I tried to jump to my feet, but I was pinned down.

  “Easy, Nate, easy. You’re safe. Friendlies here. Just a protective barrier,” Gunnar said in a gentle tone.

  I finally looked around to see Tory holding the Huntress’ head in her lap, sobbing. She was breathing, although she looked to be in great pain. Someone was clutching my chest, and I glanced down to see Alex openly weeping as he clutched onto me.

  I settled my hand on his head. “Easy, kid. No one’s going to hurt you. No one is going to take you away. Ever again.”

  His terrified eyes turned to me, and the smile that suddenly bloomed on his face was so emotional that I felt tears dripping down my cheeks. Unconditional love. Amazement. Fear. Family.

  I nodded back in answer to the feelings painted on his face.

  And he began to cry, clutching me even tighter. “You saved me,” he whispered.

  I gently moved my thumb in his hair in soothing circles. “You saved me, Alex. In that other place. Just as much as I saved you. If not more,” I said. He clutched me tighter, and I continued to repeat my promises, even as I acknowledged them to myself for the first time. He had a home. And that home would keep him safe. I had risked my soul to save this kid, and it had felt so natural. So instinctive. So primal. Thanks for that, Wylde…

  “Let’s go home,” I finally said, thumbing my palm thoughtfully. It felt fine. Healthy skin, although calloused with the Temple Family Crest branded into it. But it wasn’t a blackened stump. “Chateau Falco has grown accustomed to youthful life roaming her halls. I want to introduce you to her, Alex.”

  He looked up at me. “I would like that, Master Temple. Very much.”

  I grimaced. “Let’s stick with Nate.”

  “Yeah, the other thing sounded weird,” Gunnar agreed. “And you need to rest up.”

  I nodded up at him, smiling as I studied his stone eye.

  He shrugged in answer, so I left it alone for later. But I knew why he wanted me to rest up. We had a damsel to save. Well, a wolf queen.

  Which could be… interesting.

  If she was still alive.

  I felt a pleasant jingle in my pocket and smiled. The pouches of coins from the pavilion. Someone had made sure I got what I had earned.

  A fistful of Olympian gold. I chuckled, shaking my head as I walked home with my family.

  Nate Temple will return in December 2017… Turn the page to read the first chapter of UNCHAINED, and find out more about the mysterious Kansas City wizard, Callie Penrose…

  UNCHAINED (FEATHERS & FIRE #1)

  The rain pelted my hair, plastering loose strands of it to my forehead as I panted, eyes darting from tree to tree, terrified of each shifting branch, splash of water, and whistle of wind slipping through the nightscape around us. But… I was somewhat excited, too.

  Somewhat.

  “Easy, girl. All will be well,” the big man creeping just ahead of me, murmured.

  “You said we were going to get ice cream!” I hissed at him, failing to compose myself, but careful to keep my voice low and my eyes alert. “I’m not ready for this!” I had been trained to fight, with my hands, with weapons, and with my magic. But I had never taken an active role in a hunt before. I’d always been the getaway driver for my mentor.

  The man grunted, grey eyes scanning the trees as he slipped through the tall grass. “And did we not get ice cream before coming here? Because I think I see some in your hair.”

  “You know what I mean, Roland. You tricked me.” I checked the tips of my loose hair, saw nothing, and scowled at his back.

  “The Lord does not give us a greater burden than we can shoulder.”

  I muttered dark things under my breath, wiping the water from my eyes. Again. My new shirt was going to be ruined. Silk never fared well in the rain. My choice of shoes wasn’t much better. Boots, yes, but distressed, fashionable boots. Not work boots designed for the rain and mud. Definitely not monster hunting boots for our evening excursion through one of Kansas City’s wooded parks. I realized I was forcibly distracting myself, keeping my mind busy with mundane thoughts to avoid my very real anxiety. Because whenever I grew nervous, an imagined nightmare always—

  A church looming before me. Rain pouring down. Night sky and a glowing moon overhead. I was all alone. Crying on the cold, stone steps, and infant in a cardboard box—

  I forced the nightmare away, breathing heavily. “You know I hate it when you talk like that,” I whispered to him, trying to regain my composure. I wasn’t angry with him, but was growing increasingly uncomfortable with our situation after my brief flashback of fear.

  “Doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be said,” he said kindly. “I think we’re close. Be alert. Remember your training. Banish your fears. I am here. And the Lord is here. He always is.”

  So, he had noticed my sudden anxiety. “Maybe I should just go back to the car. I know I’ve trained, but I really don’t think—”

  A shape of fur, fangs, and claws launched from the shadows towards me, cutting off my words as it snarled, thirsty for my blood.

  And my nightmare slipped back into my thoughts like a veiled assassin, a wraith hoping to hold me still for the monster to eat. I froze, unable to move. Twin sticks of power abruptly erupted into being in my clenched fists, but my fear swamped me with that stupid nightmare, the sticks held at my side, useless to save me.

  Right before the beast’s claws reached me, it grunted as something batted it from the air, sending it flying sideways. It struck a tree with another grunt and an angry whine of pain.

  I fell to my knees right into a puddle, arms shaking, breathing fast.

  My sticks crackled in the rain like live cattle prods, except their entire length was the electrical section — at least to anyone other than me. I could hold them without pain.

  Magic was a part of me, coursing through my veins whether I wanted it or not, and Roland had spent many years teaching me how to master it. But I had never been able to fully master the nightmare inside me, and in moments of fear, it always won, overriding my training.

  The fact that I had resorted to weapons — like the ones he had trained me with — rather than a burst of flame, was startling. It was good in the fact th
at my body’s reflexes knew enough to call up a defense even without my direct command, but bad in the fact that it was the worst form of defense for the situation presented. I could have very easily done as Roland did, and hurt it from a distance. But I hadn’t. Because of my stupid block.

  Roland placed a calloused palm on my shoulder, and I flinched. “Easy, see? I am here.” But he did frown at my choice of weapons, the reprimand silent but loud in my mind. I let out a shaky breath, forcing my fear back down. It was all in my head, but still, it wasn’t easy. Fear could be like that.

  I focused on Roland’s implied lesson. Close combat weapons — even magically-powered ones — were for last resorts. I averted my eyes in very real shame. I knew these things. He didn’t even need to tell me them. But when that damned nightmare caught hold of me, all my training went out the window. It haunted me like a shadow, waiting for moments just like this, as if trying to kill me. A form of psychological suicide? But it was why I constantly refused to join Roland on his hunts. He knew about it. And although he was trying to help me overcome that fear, he never pressed too hard.

  Rain continued to sizzle as it struck my batons. I didn’t let them go, using them as a totem to build my confidence back up. I slowly lifted my eyes to nod at him as I climbed back to my feet.

  That’s when I saw the second set of eyes in the shadows, right before they flew out of the darkness towards Roland’s back. I threw one of my batons and missed, but that pretty much let Roland know that an unfriendly was behind him. Either that or I had just failed to murder my mentor at point-blank range. He whirled to confront the monster, expecting another aerial assault as he unleashed a ball of fire that splashed over the tree at chest height, washing the trunk in blue flames. But this monster was tricky. It hadn’t planned on tackling Roland, but had merely jumped out of the darkness to get closer, no doubt learning from its fallen comrade, who still lay unmoving against the tree behind me.