The Temple

Home > Literature > The Temple > Page 8
The Temple Page 8

by Heather Marie Adkins


  “What has she said?” His big arms were crossed so tight across his white T-shirt I could see the veins standing out beneath the golden fur sprinkled across his arms.

  His interest surprised me and for a split second I wondered if he’d harbored some kind of attraction to the girl. “Not much. Told me her name and some gibberish. She doesn’t remember dying.”

  He cleared his throat, smoothing his hands over his blonde ponytail. “She was a nice girl. Smart. Strong.”

  Was I in some kind of parallel universe? “Um, ok.”

  Jordan held out the Temple keys. “Well, have a good night and a good weekend.” Taking my car keys, he yanked his black raincoat from the hook beside mine and disappeared into the night, my jaw left behind on the floor.

  *********

  It was that time again. I listened to the tower shut above me, the gears cranking and whirring away as the windows were cut off from the rest of the temple. I’d put it too late, one minute till according to my digital watch. I’d spent the last hour on the internet, messaging with my sister about the break in and Addie’s brush with death. I was turning the key in the bottom lock when I heard the whine.

  It was the pathetic sound of a terrified animal, and it hit my heart in just the right way considering the fear I’d faced with Addie that morning. Key frozen, I listened to the wind picking up outside, the howls beginning as the supposed Wild Hunt began its ride. When the whimper didn’t come again, I resumed my locking. A yelp followed by frantic scratching on the other side of the door scared the hell out of me, and the part of me that can’t deny help to animals took over.

  My hands were shaking as I unlatched the hook and eye, and yanked open the door, praying it wasn’t a trick. Melissa’s warning that the Wild Hunt preferred those with powers didn’t go unheeded, nor did my research that uncovered the methods with which the hunt called to victims. On the surface I still didn’t believe the whole mess, though I was hard pressed to give a logical explanation for the nightly visits, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

  A lumbering oaf of coarse, tan fur shot into the temple with a bark, and I slammed the door as soon as his fluffy tail cleared the frame, hurriedly locking up before I turned and faced him.

  He was a sad looking character, his paws muddy from the rain that poured down outside, his entire body shivering from the cold. Gazing up at me with big, brown eyes over a long snout, he whimpered. I wanted to throw my arms around him and hold him until he stopped, but for all I knew, he was wild. Rabid.

  “Let’s warm you up,” I told him, fighting the need to touch him and giving him my back as I headed for the office. His toenails clicked hesitantly on the floor behind me. I raised the temperature a couple degrees on the thermostat just inside the office door and closed the door, taking a seat. Plopping on his haunches at my feet, we eyed each other warily.

  There was no collar around his neck, and the long fur of his tail was so matted I knew he had to be a stray. “You got lucky, buddy,” I told him, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. He scooted his butt towards me by shuffling his back legs on the floor, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as he smiled. “Around here, they say stray dogs get taken by the Hunt if they don’t find shelter.” I reached for him slowly, and smiled as he pressed his head into my hand and let me scratch his ears. “I wonder how long you’ve dodged the bad guys.”

  We sat in companionable silence. It didn’t get by me that I’d only just thought this week of getting a dog to keep Addie company. Theresa would call it fate. I opened the pencil drawer on the desk and fumbled around inside until I found the scissors, and I set to work cutting out the mats behind his ears and on his tail. He waited patiently, rewarding me with licks to the face anytime I got near him. When he was tidily cut, I led him to the bathroom and set about making him clean.

  I hadn’t forgotten about the Temple being compromised so many years ago. When I had the dog clean and somewhat dry, I set about trying to figure out what had happened to necessitate the need for new columns.

  The tall file cabinet standing in one corner of the office heeded no results. It was a bunch of old accounting sheets for all the products in the ritual rooms and past bills for cleaning supplies. Nothing interesting with bold letters across the top pointing me as to why the temple was almost destroyed in the seventies.

  Of course, there was the locked door.

  It looked just like all the others. Heavy wood, painted red, with age creases in the color. There was no visible lock; only a single, antique gold doorknob that shone in the torchlight as if it were brand new. I laid my hands on it, meaning to reach inside for the locking mechanisms, only to be burned.

  I jerked my hands away with a hiss, white hot pain flaring up my arms. My palms were bright red.

  The dog, startled by my jumping, rubbed against my leg and whined up at me. I reached down and scratched his ears, cooing gently.

  “It’s okay, I’m okay,” I told him, glancing at the door one more time, before heading for the office, no smarter than I was before.

  *********

  Melissa squealed when she met him at shift change. She dropped to her blue jean clad knees and opened her arms. After a confused moment, he decided she was okay and tentatively stepped into her hug.

  “He’s adorable. Why does he smell like bad perfume?” She wrinkled her nose, pulling away. He scooted forward to snuffle her curly hair.

  “I gave him a bath. The only shampoo in there is some generic strawberry crap,” I laughed. “He showed up seconds before midnight and scratched at the door as I was locking up. I’m gonna keep him.”

  Kissing his soft head, she stood. “Have you named him?”

  I gave her a wry grin, brushing my now pain-free hand over his ears. “Hunter.”

  Chapter 9

  “Hey Vale, call me when you get home from work, I’ll be up.” Brett’s sexy voice came across my answering machine and went straight to my cervix. Hunter was clicking across the hardwood floor of my living room, sticking his nose in places that probably didn’t smell that great as he checked the status of his new home. Addie watched him with narrowed eyes from the back of the couch, fluffy tail flicking jerkily.

  He answered on the first ring. “Still on for tonight?”

  Oh, was I. “Absolutely. What’s the plan?” I dumped a can of Dr. Dashing’s cat food into Addie’s bowl. She leaped from the couch to the counter and sniffed at it before giving me what qualified as her Look of Death. I tried to mock her and didn’t succeed. No one does the Look of Death as good as my cat.

  “I thought we’d get dinner at seven. Have you been to Toni’s?”

  “Nope. And seven is great.”

  I ripped open the medium sized bag of dog food I’d grabbed on the way home and pulled out a big Tupperware container. Hunter had his face planted in it before I’d finished pouring. I added a little extra for good health and was looking for a water bowl when the phone rang.

  “I know you don’t think it’s a big deal, but it totally is, Vale. Something is fishy with Mom.” If I hadn’t been her big sister during the years when she couldn’t form words, I’d never have understood the rush of syllables that flowed over the phone line. “Ice cream? The Women’s clinic? Come on, sis, twice in a week, she’s exhibited non-Theresa signs.”

  I tried to keep my sigh from echoing through the receiver. “I still think maybe you’re worrying too much. Why don’t you just ask her?”

  “I can not believe you don’t believe me,” she said darkly, a pout in her voice.

  “Macy—”

  “Still got a date tonight?” Macy teased, cutting me off. She’d always had a problem with not getting her way. Music picked up in the background as if she was moving towards it. The girl can’t seem to survive if her hippie rock isn’t blasting.

  “Mace, it’s like midnight there. What are you doing?” I rolled over the top of the dog food and shoved it in an empty bottom cabinet, then sloshed water all over the floor when I se
t down the water bowl.

  “I’m at Amy’s. We’re throwing a party.” She popped her gum and I rolled my eyes. I really did miss my sister.

  “On a Thursday? Don’t you have school tomorrow?” I dropped a dish towel covered in roosters, an old ratty one passed on to me by Theresa, on the floor and used my foot to wipe up the mess.

  “Nope, Fall break. So, date?” My sister and her one track mind.

  “Yes, date. He’s picking me up at seven.” Her next words caused me to get very little sleep that day.

  “What are you going to wear?”

  *********

  The doorbell rang right at seven. My nerves were dysfunctional, Addie was trying to kill me, and I couldn’t decide between the purple halter or the dark green cowl-neck sweater. At the sound of the chimes, I jumped a foot in the air and yanked on the green one, buttoning the three pearl buttons at the bodice as I raced down the stairs.

  Brett looked amazing. His khaki chinos fit to his hips and thighs like they were tailored just for him, and his un-tucked black polo shirt emphasized the muscles of the chest under his gray wool coat. He looked good enough to eat, covered in whip cream and me. I shook myself from visions of hands and tongues, and gave him a smile. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” He looked pointedly at my feet where Addie was staring up at him, her mews surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear. I did not need the RSPCA on my tail.

  “Ignore her, she’s a saucy minx,” I said, giving her the evil eye. “Addie! Go eat your fish guts.”

  I stepped back to let him in, knowing if we didn’t get out the door soon, I wouldn’t let him leave. “I just need to grab a jacket and I’ll be ready.” I thumped up the steps in my boots and yanked my flannel coat from its hanger, giving my messy ponytail one last look in the mirror. The shadows under my eyes seemed deeper than usual, but I wasn’t sure whether to blame that on my late nights or stress.

  I found Brett being accosted by Hunter and Addie on the couch, Hunter with his spotted tongue hanging out and Addie with her tail under Brett’s nose like a fluffy mustache. “Children!” I chided, swatting them away. “Sorry, they don’t usually see other people. I think they have withdrawals.”

  He laughed, his eyes crinkling charmingly. “I don’t mind, I love animals.”

  “Do you have any of your own?” I locked the door behind us and he led me to his car, where he opened my door for me. He waited to answer until he slid in the driver’s seat and backed out of the driveway.

  “No, I live in those apartments, just…there” he pointed to gray stone apartments sitting back in the trees across the road, “and they aren’t pet friendly.”

  “Wow, I didn’t realize you lived so close.” Neither did my dreams, which would thoroughly take advantage of the fact.

  “It’s a cheap little flat, not big enough for one person,” he joked, signaling his turn on to the main thoroughfare. “But it’s inexpensive and I don’t have a lease.”

  Meaning, when we fall in love and want to live together, you can pack up and move in with me…I thought, once more taken by lustful wishes. He just looked amazing in those pants. I blame them.

  ”How was your trip?” I asked, rearranging the slats of the heater so it would hit me with warmth. The darkened storefronts of Main were zipping by. “I missed seeing you after work. Although, Melissa is really nice. We had lunch a couple days back.”

  “Yeah, she’s a good girl. Going to uni for biology, isn’t she?” At my nod, he went on, “My trip was delightful. Spain is lovely this time of year, cool enough for long sleeves yet warm enough to not be cold.”

  “Were you visiting family?” I watched the trees swish by out the car window, hoping it didn’t sound like I was prying. The sun had already set, a sure sign that winter was well on its way.

  It took a moment for him to answer. “I went to see a friend.”

  My heart plummeted. For such an obsequious answer, it could only mean he was visiting a friend of the female persuasion. I decided not to ask any more questions, lest my heart be broke. Anyway, it wasn’t like he was mine to claim. What he did with his life was nothing to me.

  We pulled in to a small Italian restaurant called Toni’s. The front of the square building was capped with a red and white checkered awning that clashed horribly with the concrete facade but was almost quaint. He squeezed into a little parking space, and we stepped out into the brisk air that made me think of crunchy leaves and warm fires. “My mother went to school with the owner, Antonio Martelli. She says they were just friends, but Dad and I are pretty sure there was a flame of some sort.”

  “What makes you say that?” I asked with a grin, stepping through the door as he opened it for me.

  “Brett! Benvenuto!” The booming voice came from in front of us, and a breathtakingly handsome man clapped a hand to Brett’s shoulder, pulling him into the half-hug famous among men.

  Brett smiled at the lust in my eyes. “Vale, I’d like you to meet Antonio.”

  The lanky Italian turned dark, smoldering eyes to me, and slipped a rough hand into mine. When he pressed his lips to my knuckles with a smile and looked at me from the tops of his eyes, it took every bit of energy I had to reign in the desire I felt spreading through my skin. His whiskers scratched my skin and I felt it in my hoo-hah. Wouldn’t it be my luck I’d lose control of my power in front of Brett. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Oh, Americano,” Antonio murmured, brushing his thumb across my fingers, a suggestive leer in his eyes. “You are very welcome here.”

  Brett cleared his throat and slipped an arm around my waist pointedly. With a carefree laugh, Antonio grabbed a couple menus and led us to a darkened corner. The table for two was set with only a vase of small purple flowers and a candle floating idly in a bowl of lavender scented water. Brett pulled out my chair and I sat, as Antonio spilled out the day’s specials in an astonishing mixture of Italian and English.

  When he’d taken Brett’s order for a bottle of red wine and sauntered away, I grinned at Brett. “I see why you suspect an illicit love affair. Women would bow before that might.”

  He grinned and nodded. “Mmm-hmm. We’re on to her. So, what did you and Melissa have to talk about?”

  The waiter arrived bearing the wine, which he presented with flourish to Brett. I waited out the annoying presentation, sniff, and sip common to high end restaurants, before I answered. “We just chitchatted about work, and discovered a shared love of Cider.”

  Brett’s laugh was warm and genuine. “I’m glad you’ve made a friend that didn’t have to bribe you with coffee and doughnuts.”

  Heaven forbid, I giggled at his reference. Rolling my eyes at my own girlish lunacy, I said, “Are Melissa and I the only girls working for the Temple?”

  Brett tucked into the basket of warm bread and I followed suit whole-heartedly. Through a mouthful of carbs, bless his washboard abs, he said, “Yes, just the two of you. Make you feel special?”

  Never one for tact, I didn’t bother with wondering how to address the subject, I just jumped right in. “Are you aware of the five female guards who have gone missing in the past?”

  He swallowed a mouthful of wine. “I knew Teena, from Kenya. She stopped coming to work about two years ago.”

  I picked at a piece of bread, shredding it with my fingernails. It was aesthetically pleasing bread, the crust wavy and golden, coated with just a smidge of flour, and the inside looked like cream of sponge. “Two years ago, almost to the day, according to records Melissa has pulled up.”

  Brett paused in the act of dipping his bread into the olive oil and herb combo. “I didn’t realize.”

  “It’s weird, isn’t it. Five girls, disappearing on Halloween. Samhain. The ancient pagan festival of the dead.” I folded my hands in my lap and gazed at him across the candle’s flame. “Especially considering the Wild Hunt is very associated with that holiday.”

  Brett leaned back in his chair, running his napkin down the side of his mouth. “Huh.
You’ve done your research.”

  The waiter, a younger version of Antonio with an accent to match, stopped beside our table, pen in hand, and said, “Have you had a chance to look over the menu?”

  Brett ordered the Chicken Parmagiana, one of my favorite dishes. After an irrational moment of not wanting to order the same thing, in a move to keep him from thinking I was just trying to be polite, I asked for the Spinach Alfredo with pesto.

  Executing a graceful bow, our waiter zipped off to place our order. I shook my head in answer to Brett’s statement. “Not me. Melissa. She connected the dots.”

  “She’s a smart girl. You know we had an entire hour’s worth of conversation on the scientific method? That girl has more theories than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “She has theories on the missing guards, too,” I told him, smiling at the waiter as he refilled my wine glass. The man was all white apron and seemed to be everywhere at once. I fingered the delicate stem, smooth glass reflecting the candle. “I have a theory, as well. I don’t think the Wild Hunt got them. I think someone is using the Hunt to cover their own purposes, maybe for human sacrifice or some such. Just like I think a serial killer is operating under the guise of the supernatural.”

  “Vale, we’ve talked about this,” he sighed, pressing his lips into a thin line and raising an eyebrow at me. “There were no marks, no signs of violence. Those victims died of natural causes.”

  “Explain to me why there were no bodies for our guards, then,” I demanded, crossing my arms and pouting like a petulant child. It was unbecoming, I know.

  “Human trafficking?”

  We stared at each other, daring the other to give in first. I can be as stubborn as the best, and I certainly didn’t get that from my parents, woo-woo hippies that they are. I chugged the rest of my almost full wine glass and poured my own third round. Definitely starting to wish I was drinking something stronger.

 

‹ Prev