Nine Souls: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 9 (The Temple Chronicles)

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Nine Souls: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 9 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 31

by Shayne Silvers

“As close as family can be!” she snarled.

  I nodded. “Funny, because I recently had a chat with Alaric.” Death made a noise, urging me to silence, but I waved a hand. “I was his roommate for a while. In Hell,” I clarified, pointing down. “Had to kill him. Again. Permanently, this time.” I dusted off my hands. “But you should have heard how much he loved dear old Gertrude…” I laughed wickedly. “Okay, not so much. I think he said something that rhymed with power-hungry old bitch.”

  “Ancient,” Alex piped in, correcting me.

  I pointed at him, silently thanking him with a nod. Everyone else was staring at me in shock, reminded of the fact that I had really been in Hell less than an hour ago. And that I had apparently killed Alaric. Again.

  I jerked my chin at Yahn and the Reds.

  The demons I had hired. Made a deal with.

  Here’s where Tory might not be so happy with me. “They’ve been working for me ever since our meeting. I didn’t know what was going on, but I needed to know what you dragons were doing behind closed doors, because Tory is my friend, and I have a soft spot against harming kids. Extortion is abuse, in my book. I promised them my protection. From you or Raego.” I shot Raego a shrug, letting him know it hadn’t been personal. He nodded back. “And I told them I would stand to support their relationship,” I added, glancing up at Tory from under my brows, hoping she wasn’t about to pummel me. You never knew with moms. Or women. Tory blinked, and a very warm smile split her cheeks. I let out a sigh of relief, turning back to Gertrude.

  “You have no soul, lady. And after my recent vacation, I believe I’m the authority on the matter of having a soul or not.”

  “Your filthy parents stole from me!” she seethed.

  With that, the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place as I remembered what Alaric had told me about my parents robbing her. She hadn’t done all this because I embarrassed her at the Dueling Grounds. “You set this crazy scheme up… all of it. Not just to take down Raego, but to take back what my parents allegedly stole from you years ago?” I asked in disbelief. That’s why she had wanted the Reds to plant the necklace here. To take me down and retrieve what my parents had stolen. A double win. “You set every nation on fire with fear to… get some treasure back?”

  The fire in her eyes told me the answer.

  Raego chortled. “I’m hurt, grandmother. We’re blood. How could you betray blood?” he said, voice dripping with false pain.

  With a scream, Dirty Gerty lunged for the Reds, the weakest and closest enemy to her.

  Chapter 59

  Tory took her mind whip-quick, her Fae side leaking out. Dirty Gerty stared dumbly at the Reds from only a few feet away. Yahn calmly walked up, formed a glass fist the size of a bowling ball, and punched her between the eyes.

  Then Tory, the tiny Beast Master, smiled. Gertrude’s eyes went wild, flicking back and forth as she choked and gagged, unable to flee as the air was shut off from her throat. Tory didn’t end it. She just watched as Gertrude slowly died. She held it for another minute before letting the body drop to the ground.

  Then she looked at Chu and Malik and they began to choke to death, too. Their eyes were wide, but they didn’t try to run. Couldn’t try to run. Because Tory held their minds and throats with her power. Enya looked both grateful and horrified. Grateful that she wasn’t choking beside them, and horrified that whatever she imagined coming for her afterwards might be even worse.

  Raego cleared his throat politely. Tory glanced back, but the two dragons kept struggling for air. Her look wasn’t subservient, but acknowledging his position. “Yes, Obsidian Son?” she asked. “I was hired as an impartial judge. I don’t work for you, but for the dragons as a whole. These two betrayed your people.” Enya blinked her eyes in relief, glad that Tory hadn’t said three dragons. “I’m just doing my job. Although I won’t deny enjoying it.”

  He nodded neutrally. “Do as you will, but this actually leads into an idea I’ve been having. I wouldn’t mind if your position became more permanent – the police of this city. You’d have my vote, and I don’t think anyone else would challenge it. But we’ll talk of that after you… deliver your justice.”

  She nodded, the dragons still choking. “We are on Temple’s property…” she said slowly, as if just thinking of it.

  Raego turned to me. “She has a point, my brother. Do you want to decide their fate? At this juncture, I think you’re the only salvation left to them…” he said with an easy shrug. “I think everyone else would rather just kill them. But we’ll take care of it if you have no opinion on the matter.”

  Tory growled territorially, and Raego smiled. “Well, Tory will take care of it.”

  Everyone waited. I heard someone munching on popcorn, the only sound over the choking dragons before me. I considered everything I had heard. The betrayal, the backstabbing, the infighting. And I thought fondly of Hell. The torture, the anguish, the misery. And I thought of what I had let escape. Mordred.

  A shudder crawled up my spine at that. He was powerful. Too powerful. He’d taken down an army of shades with one wave of his hand. And now he had taken the Nine Souls… whatever they were.

  And he was encroaching on my interests whether he knew it or not. Camelot.

  And I remembered Barbie. Her… enthusiastic healing, but more so her advice. Thunder rumbled in the almost setting sun, but it wasn’t from me. Just regular old weather. But I let them think what they would.

  I walked up to the two choking dragons, glancing at Tory, who nodded for me to proceed. “You want salvation?” I whispered in a cold tone.

  They nodded hurriedly. They gasped as air suddenly filled their lungs. Tory kept her eyes on them, watching as they struggled to regain their composure. They slowly turned to look at me, and there was none of the previous disinterest, disdain, or hatred. Just… terror.

  The last of the setting sun struck their obedient eyes. We were only minutes from darkness, and I realized I had made my final decision.

  “Take this city,” I said in a voice as cold as wind over a frozen pond. Like a Fae King. “Announce it far and wide that I claim St. Louis as mine. Don’t kill, but let them know you are serious. And that they should expect a summons from their new king soon.”

  The resulting silence was palpable as I turned and walked back to my leather chair. Callie leaned against the side of it now, watching me thoughtfully.

  Gunnar and Ashley were the first to kneel before me. In my mooseknuckle throne.

  Then Achilles and Leonidas.

  Then Raego and Baron. Then the rest of the dragons.

  Death didn’t kneel, but he did look amused. Callie continued to watch me.

  Alex walked up and handed me the fedora he had stolen from my closet. “I don’t have a crown handy, but thought this would work in a pinch.”

  Callie took it from my hands and stood, inspecting. She set it on my head, and straightened it minutely. “There. It does look rather dashing,” she finally smiled and gave me a curtsy.

  I rolled my eyes at her.

  Four of the oldest dragons in the world snorted steam from their ancient nostrils, and then began snarling, lining up their followers with short, harsh commands. And as darkness finally fell, dragons took to the skies of St. Louis to let my subjects hear the name of their new king.

  It was catchier than Master Temple.

  Chapter 60

  I didn’t realize the wolves had surrounded us. They all began to howl, staring up at the horde of dragons racing towards St. Louis. At least it was night. Maybe the Regulars wouldn’t notice.

  “This… changes things,” Gunnar said. It didn’t sound judgmental. Just… a fact.

  “Thanks to Dirty Gerty, everyone already thinks I’m a power-hungry tyrant,” I said. “It’s about time for some changes. If I have to do this to keep everyone safe from what comes, I will. When it’s over, I’m walking away.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t walk away. King of St. Louis… Sounds catchy.”

>   Ashley spoke up, assessing the howling wolves. “We’ll see to the pack, although it looks like that’s a bigger problem than I thought.” I turned to look at the giant mass of wolves. Hundreds upon hundreds. Twice as many as before their honeymoon.

  “We’ll need a new home…” Gunnar said suggestively.

  I sighed. “Send me the bill. I’m going to have to look into raising taxes or something. You can use the five million tents from the garage if you guys need to crash here for a while.” Because this wasn’t the first time I’d had armies living on my lawn. We’d kept all the camping gear, enough for ten freaking circuses. They nodded and left, gathering the wolves.

  “What are you going to do, Nate? You seemed pretty focused on something when you returned,” Callie said in a soft voice. I realized we were alone. Everyone had left with Gunnar. Well, I saw Talon not far away, watching over us from a respectful distance. Or maybe just wanting to give me a moment of privacy with Callie. I could see his tail twitching, though, and knew he desperately wanted to talk to me. I didn’t see Carl anywhere.

  I nodded to Callie. “I’m going to do what every new king does…”

  Callie frowned. “Which is?”

  “Invade.”

  “You just… took St. Louis. What are you going to invade?” she asked incredulously. A pause, then, “Don’t even think about Kansas City…” she warned, but she was smiling.

  I met her eyes, but was unable to smile. “The Fae. Mordred is free, and I think he’s going after Camelot. Merlin. Arthur. But I have something he needs…”

  She leaned closer. “The Round Table…”

  I smiled at her, then, nodding. I glanced around. “Where’s Roland? And Alucard?”

  She waved a hand. “Still in their meeting. I spoke to Roland earlier. They’re fine.”

  I nodded, thinking of what else I had to take care of now that I was back home. Pan. I needed to talk to Pan. See how Baba Yaga and Van Helsing were doing. And B. And Falco. And Pandora. And Alex. My mind began to race, anxiety slowly creeping over my shoulders.

  Callie tugged me to my feet, not letting go as she led me back to the house. I didn’t fight her, just watched as she tugged me along as if to walk over Talon. “It looks like it’s later…” she said in a soft tone.

  I opened my mouth to answer, unable to hide the sudden grin on my face, when I heard shouting. I spun, hands out defensively only to see Carl on his knees before the tiny sapling near the treehouse. He was cursing and chanting to himself. Very, very loudly.

  “What is he doing?” Callie asked, still holding my hand.

  Talon piped up, suddenly beside us. “That’s what I was waiting to tell you. He’s been sitting there this whole time, muttering to himself. Your mother put some fool notion in his head—”

  “Grow, D! GROW!” Carl suddenly crowed, slicing a claw down his forearm and holding the dripping wound over the lone sapling. The thunder grumbled above, much darker and ominous than it had been earlier. Power washed over Carl, buffeting over us like a wind, forcing us back a step. And that tiny sapling erupted like Jack’s beanstalk, racing for the skies as lightning struck the earth three times. Less than a minute later, my vision slowly returned from the flashes, and the ringing in my ears faded somewhat.

  And I clearly heard Carl cackling to himself. A giant white tree stood where the sapling had been, scooping up the tree house as it grew so that it now sat fifty feet above the ground, barely halfway up the tree. I thought I saw the door to the treehouse open and then slowly click closed.

  White scales covered the bark of the tree, and black leaves filled the branches as if it had stood for a hundred years. It had a very pale glow. I shook my head in disbelief.

  “Behold Carl’s glorious mighty D!” the Elder bellowed, throwing out his arms and spinning in a slow circle.

  “Fucking Carl,” I breathed in disbelief.

  “I thought it was a joke. Your mother truly is a master of the D…” Talon whispered.

  Callie muffled a cough, but I didn’t turn to look at her.

  My house rumbled faintly behind me and I knew things had just gotten a whole lot weirder.

  Nate Temple will return in Summer 2018… Turn the page to read the first chapter of UNCHAINED - Book 1 in the Amazon Bestselling Feathers and Fire Series - and find out more about the mysterious Kansas City wizard, Callie Penrose… Or pick up your copy HERE!

  UNCHAINED (FEATHERS AND 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 — li
ke the ones he had trained me with — rather than a burst of flame, was startling. It was good in the fact that 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.

 

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