Then I heard the clanking of chains on the other side of the room. I turned to see Nate Temple, bleeding and shackled, a leather mask over his mouth to prevent him from speaking, from Singing, shuffling out from…
A second Silver door.
My world rocked suddenly and my hand grasped the Spear. I gasped as power flooded into me, rocking me back on my heels. Cain caught me, supporting me so I didn’t fall. My eyes settled on the Conclave who were grinning wickedly, pointing at the shackled wizard.
The Horseman of Hope.
“Execute him, Miss Penrose,” Malachi snarled acidly.
I flinched at the tone, turning to meet his gaze. But…his face was calm and composed, not matching the tone I had just heard. And the other members of the Conclave weren’t grinning. In fact, they looked terrified to be so close to the bound man.
What was happening? I felt so strange…
Like this was some dream. Some nightmare.
A familiar voice whispered in my ear, but it was all I could manage to hold the Spear in my palms without unleashing a torrent of power that would likely kill us all.
“You love him…”
I gasped as if he had just stabbed me in the kidneys. Did I love my enemy? Nate Temple had torn the world apart with—
Wait, no he hadn’t. He’d been the only one standing up for mankind, hadn’t he? I glanced back up at Malachi, shaking my head in confusion. His eyes flashed from white to black, his face contorted from malicious grin to somber frown, back and forth, too fast to be real. Which meant…
The world flashed Silver and I shuddered at what I saw. Demons had possessed the majority of the Conclave. I glanced back to find the same with Claire, Arthur, and Beckett.
I reached into my pocket, feeling something that reminded me of a kiss, for some reason. It was warm in my hands as I wrapped my fingers around it. My hand latched onto something else, and I pulled both items out. A silver butterfly charm and a black feather with a red orb at the tip.
I lifted my eyes, time still moving slowly thanks to my Silvers, and glanced at Nate Temple.
His eyes were chaotic storms of white and gold. Not a sliver of black to them.
I took a deep breath, ignoring the hubbub of the Shepherds slowly advancing, sensing that something was wrong. I flung out my hand, hurling the silver butterfly at Nate Temple’s face.
It struck his mouthpiece, tearing it free.
At the same time, I lifted the feather and shouted a single word as the world snapped back into real time. “GRIMM!”
A black bolt of lightning struck the center of the Conclave, tossing their bodies outward or incinerating them on contact. The room erupted with shouts and screams as a black unicorn appeared in the center of the rubble of bodies and the remains of the wooden desk where the Conclave had sat. He met my eyes and they were white fire, his silver hooves pawed at the floor, flames licking at the carpet and catching the rubble on fire. His coat and mane were long, black feathers with red orbs at the tips.
Grimm abruptly impaled Malachi in the forehead with his horn and a demon attempted to flee his body, snarling and cursing as it erupted in black flame, cast back to Hell.
I pointed my spear at Nate Temple without breaking eye contact with the unicorn, ignoring how close that gnarled, bloody, black horn was from my throat. “Save him…” I pleaded.
Grimm snorted, his nostrils flaring with deep, inner flames, and then he galloped past me, scooping up Nate Temple and shattering his chains in one swift swipe of his horn. Nate’s hands came free and the room erupted with chaos as balls of flame roared through the air, walls of thorns rolling over any survivors. He opened his mouth…and men of the cloth burned.
Claire and Beckett died horribly, impaled by wicked black thorns as large as spears.
It was over before it had even truly begun, only the gasping death throes of those too stubborn to die quickly. Nate and Grimm stared warily at Cain and I, ready to react at even the slightest provocation. I met Nate’s hard eyes and gave him a very faint smile, my heart fluttering at the chaos and destruction flickering in those depths.
Because in that chaotic storm of madness…
On his lips…
Was the Song of Creation’s Chaos.
I settled the butt of my spear on the floor and gave Nate a curtsy. Then I grabbed Cain by the shoulder and shoved him towards the Door that Nate had exited from as a prisoner.
Malachi shouted out behind me. “Traitor! You have doomed the world!” But as a compliment to his voice, I heard a mad cackling sound, and I saw a double-vision of a demon crouched atop the table, his head bobbing up and down as he clapped his slimy, scaled hands together. “Enjoy the Spear, White Rose, it’s whispers are so sweet it chills my blood.”
I ignored it, racing through the door, panting in confusion but also a supreme sense of accomplishment. I had done something right. Nate Temple was no enemy. He was my friend.
“Fuck this place,” Cain growled, tucking me close as we fell through the Silver Doorway. He was careful to keep the Spear out of the way, but he kept right on with the cursing as we fell into darkness.
Chapter 30
I sat in a booth across from Cain at a greasy diner. The adjacent table of twelve was cheerfully singing a birthday song to a child that cared only for the birthday cake and candles seated directly before him.
Cain stared back at me, his face aghast. “Callie!”
I nodded. “Yeah?”
“Put the goddamned Spear away!” he hissed, leaning forward. I flinched to find I was holding the Spear of Destiny propped up beside me on the floor. I focused on it furiously, wondering how no one had yet pointed it out. It winked out of existence a moment later, just as the waitress rounded the corner, meeting my eyes.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there, hun,” she said with a genuine smile. “Sorry for the noise. Coffee?” she asked, holding up a pot in her hands. I nodded woodenly and she deftly poured us each a glass.
“Just the coffee is fine,” Cain said hurriedly as the waitress pulled out a notepad to take our orders. I mumbled my agreement and she shrugged.
“The coffee is free—”
“Perfect,” Cain interrupted impatiently.
The waitress narrowed her eyes. “If you order,” she added, frowning. “Let me know if you change your mind,” she sighed. Then she left to check on the birthday party. The kid was crying about wanting a larger piece, and then crying harder when he was told he was supposed to share the rest of it.
Cain leaned forward, wrapping both hands around his mug of steaming, black tar heroin. I took a contented sip, meeting his eyes. “What. The fuck. Was that?” he hissed.
I shook my head, feeling slightly off. I remembered being in Rome only a few minutes ago, ready to fight for my life after my best friend turned me over to the Conclave as a traitor to the Vatican. But…I couldn’t remember how I had gotten there. Couldn’t remember ever being a Shepherd.
“Where are we, Cain?” I whispered nervously, dialing back my paranoia and deciding not to share it with Cain. He was already on the edge and didn’t need a shove. Especially since I was on the edge with him and we were holding hands.
“Let me hold the doors, my dear. It’s chilly outside,” I heard the waitress say from across the room. We both glanced up sharply, something about her words catching our attention. She was holding the doors open for a little old couple shaking snow from their boots. I frowned, not recognizing them. Then my eyes settled on the doors and I felt a slight pinch between my eyes.
“It’s cold enough outside to rob me of my last breath,” the old man chuckled, thanking the waitress, and ignoring his wife’s indignant squawk at such a macabre joke.
I gasped as my coffee slopped over my wrist, the memory hitting me like a truck. We were on a quest, a game. The Song of Solomon.
“Last Breath,” I said, turning back to Cain.
“Doors,” he hissed back, his eyes wide. Then we were both scanning the room, searching for an
y sign of threat. But it was an entirely normal diner, no danger. No lion ready to rip our faces off. No Silver Doors. Just us and our coffee. Then I focused on the faint singing I could hear in the background, as if it was coming from outside. That was familiar, too.
Cain noticed my attention. “Yes, the bloody screaming.”
I frowned. “It’s a song,” I argued. “Why does it sound familiar?”
Cain looked uncertain all of a sudden, almost fearful. “Because we heard it the moment we stepped through that first cursed Door. Maybe it’s the Song of Solomon. The tortured screams of Last Breath’s victims,” he grumbled. I had no idea what he was talking about. I heard no screaming, only the sweet, distant melody.
Cain was watching me, nervous of whatever he saw in my eyes, and holding out his hands for me to calm down. “None of that was real…Rome, the Shepherds, none of it,” I told him.
He nodded very slowly. “Obviously…”
“Then why was I holding the Spear? It’s different than…I remember,” I finally said, pushing through the mild headache caused by the thought. “It really has been modified somehow, but I don’t think in a good way,” I told him. “Almost like it’s rigged to break…”
Cain’s eyes widened. “Shit. Are you sure?”
“You told me to put it away, so no, I’m not sure. But it felt…off.”
He scratched at his unshaven cheeks, thinking furiously.
Now that I was aware, I thought back on how we had started this quest. It was difficult to draw to mind, but it finally hit me. I remembered talking to an Angel, but not how I had gotten there. Then there was the fountain, Roland meeting with Henri the vampire, and Fabrizio.
But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember any specific moments before that.
Which was strange. I could remember all sorts of things from months ago, years ago, even my childhood. But I couldn’t remember very much over…what, the last week? I remembered paying my phone bill a while back, but that had been due two weeks ago. Had something vital happened in that period? Something I needed to know right now? Some clue?
“Choices,” I murmured, catching my breath. “We’re looking for—” I cut off abruptly, not wanting to say it out loud in front of all the patrons, but Cain nodded, understanding that I had been about to mention Solomon’s Temple. “The rules said something about choices. Back there in Rome, I made a choice,” I said.
Cain was nodding. “The Spear?” he asked thoughtfully. “Or Nate?”
I thought about it, wondering. “I don’t’ know. It was almost like a dream of what could have been if I became a Shepherd. That it would someday put me on a path against Nate…” I offered hesitantly. Then I shrugged. “What do you think?”
Cain shrugged. “You’re the brains of the operation. I’m just the muscle.”
I thought about that and considered the fact that he might be wrong. “You seemed more clear-headed than me. At least back there. I got wrapped up into the experience. It felt so real…”
Cain frowned. “Maybe because it was about you becoming a Shepherd? The experience had nothing to do with me,” he said, thinking out loud.
“Does that mean we’re going to run into visions of your future, too?” I asked.
He thought about it. “I don’t know. Maybe? But this whole thing seems centered on you. You’re the one who saw the signs leading you to the fountain, not me. I didn’t even believe you, remember?”
“Good point, but you’re here, now. Maybe that’s all that matters.”
Cain shook his head, growing more confident. “I think I’m just here as your support. The first vision also had nothing to do with me.”
I leaned back in my seat, shaking my head. “Well, what the hell do we do next? Do I keep getting new tests? What am I supposed to do to find the Temple? Self-reflection won’t get us anywhere. This isn’t a vision quest. My Spear is different, Cain. That’s not a hallucination. At least, I don’t think it is,” I admitted, wondering if even this moment was some imagined dream.
Cain thought about it. “Maybe it is. To hand over Solomon’s Temple seems like the kind of thing that would require a background check.”
“Then why did it just show me a potential future—”
I blinked, cutting off my chain of thought. Was this about me trying to find my purpose? My future path? Did the Temple want to see what kind of person I could become? What kind of person I wanted to become? “The obelisk did say that each quest is tailored to each individual…”
Cain nodded, sipping his coffee.
“But in the moment, I couldn’t remember any of that. It was all so real…”
Cain grew silent, not having an answer for a few moments. “Maybe that is my purpose. To center you…” he offered, but he sounded doubtful. “Maybe you should have taken someone else with you for this, Callie. I’m not exactly a moral compass.”
I grunted, realizing that I was smiling. “I don’t know…maybe you are. Not necessarily moral, but you care for me quite a bit. You want the best for me. You offered to go on this stupid quest to help support me.”
Cain was shaking his head, looking exasperated. I figuratively rolled up my sleeves, feeling more confident in my assessment despite his denial. Time to pull out the big guns.
“I know you, Cain…I’ve seen your heart,” I said softly. He flinched as if I had hit him.
“Yeah?” he asked, lowering his eyes to his coffee. “It’s black. Like my coffee.”
I nodded, reaching my hand out for his. “But it’s there. You really care for me. You really do see me as a sister…”
His scarred hands seemed to shake at the accusation and he didn’t speak. “Just because I care for you doesn’t mean I’m the right one for the job.”
I smiled warmly, squeezing his hand. “You’re all I’ve got, idiot. Do you see a line of people behind me?” I asked him with a stern look.
He grunted, and finally met my eyes. “I’ll try my best, Callie.”
“Good, because my next plan was to poke you with my broken Spear until you agreed.”
He grunted uneasily, not at the threat, but in self-doubt. He took a deep, resigned breath and nodded one time. “If I’m your Plan A and the Spear is your Plan B, I really hope you’ve got the rest of the alphabet laid out. Sis…” he said, as if testing out the word. I grinned happily. “Now, when do we get to kill some shit? I’m good at that part.”
I scanned the room. I was actually getting tired of this quest, and we had only just begun. Because Cain had a point. I just wanted to fight something directly. No more games. I wanted an enemy, or if we were going to keep playing games, I wanted to know what it was all for.
I didn’t care about the Temple. Not really. I cared about the chance to learn something about my history. About the Seal of Solomon—in order to keep it safe and not let anymore demons out like I had the first time I wore it.
Solomon’s Temple could have been a broom closet for all I cared. Because if it had answers to those two things, I would have been a happy girl.
I didn’t need a palace or armory of weapons or treasure.
I just wanted this to be over, to at least know for certain this game would give me what I sought. Because if I won and didn’t get those two things, I was liable to burn Solomon’s swanky Temple down to the ground, cooking hot dogs over the smoldering rubble with Cain.
If I got those two things…was I finished? Was that all I wanted? A few answers and then to bow out of the constant fighting, the Demons, the Angels, all of it? Take my ball and go home?
I still didn’t have the answer to that—what I wanted to be. What I wanted to do.
I scanned the room, hoping my anger would draw out Last Breath for disrespecting his sacred game. He didn’t. Neither did any Doors suddenly pop into existence.
I sighed and took a deep breath, focusing on need. Nothing happened. I pulled out the Seal of Solomon and felt everyone in the diner suddenly turn to look at me, all conversation ceasing like they were
of one hive mind. Even the faces on the television—a kid’s sing along program of some kind featuring grown men in bright-colored track suits singing with a giant puppet—stared at me as if they could see me. My skin was suddenly crawling.
“Erm, you might want to hurry it up. They look angry,” Cain murmured, his hand slowly shifting to his belt in case they all attacked at once. I focused on need again, not need for the solution to this quest, but the need to learn more about myself, because so far everything seemed to be aimed at teaching me something.
Even if I was a terrible student and hadn’t fully understood the lessons hurled at me.
It was kind of like when you walked into a room and suddenly everyone grew quiet. It was fairly obvious everyone had been talking about you, even if you didn’t know what they had been saying. Yeah. This quest felt like that. The not-so-subtle lessons were the specific rumors floating around about me, and the quest itself was the room of backstabbers.
So I focused on me—my flaws, my strengths, anything that made me passionate or made me care. And the room transformed into a quicksilver tapestry, the people now like a crowd of life-sized Silver Surfer action figures. And two Doors glowed brightly.
As luck would have it, they led to the restrooms.
Cain grunted, looking back only briefly to follow my line of sight before checking back on our fellow patrons to make sure we weren’t about to be jumped. “We have to choose one?” he asked. “What kind of backwards truck-stop quest for knowledge is this?” he demanded.
I sighed. “Are you familiar with the buddy system?” I asked, standing and holding out my hand, still keeping an eye on the motionless chrome people watching us.
Cain grunted and let me help him to his feet. “It’s a mystery to us menfolk.”
“Prepare to be enlightened,” I told him, leading him towards the women’s restroom. “Also, you’re not supposed to be in here, so act sneaky,” I added. I placed a palm on the door and felt my hand grow warm. I took a deep breath and pushed.
Sinner: Feathers and Fire Book 5 Page 18