Carnage: Nate Temple Series Book 14

by Shayne Silvers

  “I have abandonment issues and my mom never let me buy those green sneakers I wanted,” I said dryly. “I know a thing or two about tough days and holding my shit together. Why is this different?”

  Her shoulders shrunk. “Sometimes, when you chase something long enough, you realize it might not be what you imagined it was. That you focused so much on the destination that you forgot to appreciate the journey—and what set you on your quest in the first place.” She studied Kára. “I fear she hit that wall hard, and it’s rattled her.” Pandora looked very small in that moment.

  I grew very quiet myself, turning inwards. Was Pandora hinting at her own traumas? Or was she implying that I was the destination Kára had been chasing? She’d made it sound like she didn’t know the path Kára had traveled, but that it had been rough. All I knew was that Kára had chosen to become a Valkyrie in order to get something she’d wanted. She’d said some deals cost more than others. I’d heard her with Freya, trying to give up her duties as a Valkyrie to find me—no matter the consequences—to make sure I was all right. And she’d promised Odin she would look out for me, in addition to Asgard and Freya.

  So…what had her original destination been to make those other crappy deals? And what had changed? Or had she hit this brick wall some time ago, and Pandora was speaking generally?

  I sighed, knowing well enough not to dig. Kára would tell me when she was ready. Or she wouldn’t. That was her prerogative. But it was damned frustrating to ponder with her sleeping on my thigh, making my damned wrist cramp since I was forced to keep my hand on her shoulder to make sure she slept soundly—

  I narrowed my eyes. I’d been suckered. Pandora had probably made up the whole sob story to make sure I didn’t resign from my human pillow job. Magical cahoots. They were all in on it.

  “What is the meaning of all this, Pandora? Can I, for once, just get some honest answers? Some clear-cut situations?” I unclenched my jaw, realizing I was actually straining to speak. “Can I get something that I want? Just once? Without all the mind games?”

  Pandora frowned compassionately, her face breaking with emotion. “Oh, Nate. Perhaps that is your problem. You never let yourself get what you want. You’re always worried about consequences.”

  “I’m a wizard,” I argued. “I have to think about consequences.”

  She nodded. “Yet, when it comes to threats, you often disregard the consequences, trusting your instincts.”

  “And look how well that has turned out for me,” I muttered.

  Pandora shrugged. “I would say it’s worked out incredibly well. Why else is everyone so scared of you? Your enemies fear to approach you head on. You have succeeded far more than you allow yourself to see.”

  “I don’t see how that has anything to do with—” I cut off before I said Kára or Indie or Callie or Othello or Pandora or any other woman who’d once tickled my heart for one reason or another. “I can no longer afford to do what I want regardless of the consequences. That is reckless. To disregard the pain I would leave behind, means that other people shoulder twice the burden.”

  “Have your parents not left you twice the burden?”

  I nodded vehemently. “Exactly—”

  “And would you truly sit there and tell me you’d want it any other way? You would not have Gunnar in your life. You would not have me. You would not have any of your allies. You would be a lame wizard holed up in the Academy somewhere—an obedient little worker bee. You would trade that slow suicide for what you have right now?” she said, lifting up her arms. “It seems you have hit your destination, found it wanting, and disregarded the incredible adventure you took to get here—all the amazing and wonderful and insane things you experienced. Just. Like. Her.” She pointed at the woman sleeping peacefully on my lap—her co-conspirator.

  I frowned. But she wasn’t finished.

  “Burdens will always be carried, even when you overanalyze every situation. Carried by you or by others. All I’m trying to say is that burdens make people stronger. Do not disregard consequences, but definitely accept them. Allow others to take risks with their lives. Allow others to grow stronger.” She paused, smiling gently. “Or you could ask Prometheus about his brother, Atlas. According to your arguments, Atlas is your role model—one man holding up the world all by himself.”

  I snorted softly. “That’s unfair. And untrue.”

  “Is it?” She leaned forward, speaking so softly that it was barely a breath, but her words echoed in my ears. “How heavy is your heart right now, my host? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like it’s too much for you to bear. It brought you those manacles.” She slowly leaned back, her eyes surprisingly intense. “Because you let it shackle you. Like a coward.”

  I flinched in surprise, causing Kára to stir in my lap. I stared at Pandora incredulously. Not an ounce of malice showed on her face. Instead…

  I saw only pain.

  “Sometimes, accepting too many burdens for yourself also has unintended consequences. Whether you like it or not, others already shoulder burdens for you without a whimper of protest. They silently carry burdens that you don’t even know exist—burdens created by your own stubbornness.” She stared at me flatly. “My shoulders are fucking tired, my host. I’d appreciate it if you stopped making me carry your baggage. Of course, I will carry it to my grave, no matter what you decide, but my own heart hurts twofold for every weight you tie to yours. And I am but one of the army of servants silently carrying our king’s burdens.”

  She calmly stood, straightening her toga. “Rest, my host. I have slowed time so that you may recover properly. You two may not be physically wounded, but your hearts and minds are a train wreck of pain. All insinuations aside, you really could use a dip in the hot tub. By yourself.”

  And she left.

  Somehow, the room dimmed, even though it was perpetually sunset here in the Armory. My mind wandered for a long, long time. Soon, I heard Morgan Freeman talking from the ether, and he seemed to be narrating the story of my life in his deep, syrupy drawl.

  As a sleeping Valkyrie slipped into the world of dreams, a wizard’s eyes caught the light, glimmering like precious emeralds. The wizard didn’t seem to blink, and he definitely didn’t move. He was watching over that Valkyrie, protecting her from unseen dangers. For far longer than absolutely necessary. Because they were in a safe place and had no enemies but themselves here. And the couch was more than big enough for two.

  But he was a stubborn wizard, that Nate Temple. He only feared one thing in this world—

  “Cahoots,” I murmured sleepily, interrupting the voice of god at my peril, as my eyes slipped closed. “Magical…cahoots…”

  43

  Something was tickling my face, waking me from a deep, lethargic sleep—one of those semi-comas that felt almost like a dream in and of itself. I smiled. Maybe this was another dream. If so, I should be able to reach out and tickle my fingers down her shoulders and rib cage until I reached her lower back and she stirred with a sleepy yawn. She would roll over in my silk sheets—the ones we’d thoroughly disheveled several times the night before—and smile at me, her eyes hungry and ravenous as she beckoned me closer. I would grin back boyishly at the beautiful, mesmerizing face of—

  I woke abruptly, feeling as if a bucket of cold water had just been dumped over my head.

  Kára was nuzzling into my chest, one arm draped across me in a firm hug, and her hair tickling my face. We were lying down on the couch with Kára wedged between the backrest and my body, and she was baking like an oven.

  I did not move a single muscle for fear of waking her.

  Nevertheless, her breathing changed and she suddenly sat up straight, wiping at her mouth. Her dual-colored eyes locked onto me and then widened in a panic. “Oh! How long was I asleep?” she asked, sounding frantic.

  “I have no idea. I fell asleep too,” I said, sitting up so as not to look like a lazy bum. “You’re really hot,” I blurted, her panic infecting me.


  She blinked in surprise and then stared at me. “Hot?” she repeated, biting back a grin.

  “Warm,” I corrected, trying to clarify my intended meaning. “You’re very warm.”

  She cocked her head. “What’s next? Tepid?”

  I opened my mouth but couldn’t think of an adequate defense under her cross-examination. She swiftly hopped off the couch and out of reach. “I’m going to go find a shower or something,” she said abruptly. Then she left in a rush.

  I stared at the spot where she’d been sitting moments ago. “Fuck.”

  “Smooth, Nipple. Real smooth.”

  I spun to see Prometheus lounging in an armchair facing our couch. “How long have you been sitting there, creep?”

  He slurped at his tea and smiled. “A while, Nipple. A good long while.”

  “Fuck off, Zippo,” I growled, spouting off the first fire-based nickname I could think of since his insistence on using Nipple was really starting to get under my skin. “I don’t have the patience for your shit right now, weirdo.”

  “Later, Taint,” he said, chuckling as he climbed to his feet. He whistled to himself as he left.

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Then I got to my feet, shaking my head and stretching my neck from side-to-side. I made my way over to a familiar side table since I had nothing better to do and there wasn’t any awake water here.

  I was useless without coffee. Like Superman without a cape.

  Plus, the side table had something I’d meant to grab before leaving the Armory—a wooden bowl of Tiny Balls that led directly here. Those would be a necessity for my hostages later. At least as a fallback if Kára’s bar was compromised. And if Pandora agreed, of course.

  I wasn’t entirely certain where I stood on the female front right now. They could have sentenced me to death already, based on my recent interactions. I might already be walking around on borrowed time.

  I scooped up a handful of the Tiny Balls and shoved them in my pocket, frowning at a basket brimming with rolled scrolls beside the bowl of Tiny Balls. Had that been here earlier? This table was usually empty other than my bowl—

  “Ah,” Pandora said from directly beside me. I squeaked involuntarily, my heart abruptly thundering in my chest. She arched an eyebrow, amused. Then she nudged me with her hip in a playful manner, shifting her attention back to the side table. “The Alexandria scrolls. Very boring.”

  I had regained my composure somewhat, and I found myself smiling down at her. “That’s not what a librarian should say about her collection.”

  She grunted. “It’s the truth.”

  I pointed at the Tiny Balls. “Do your new security measures nullify these?”

  She pondered my question. “Yes. Why?”

  “On a scale of ‘holding hostages is acceptable’ to ‘I’ve always wanted to hold people prisoner,’ where would you rate yourself?”

  She folded her arms. “A solid no.”

  I sighed. “What if it’s for a good cause?”

  “Are these hostages victims?”

  I nodded. “If I don’t take them first, yes.”

  She sighed, looking annoyed. “Grant them permission and I’ll let them in. For a short time.”

  I squeezed her in a one-armed hug. “Thanks. While we’re at it, I want to revoke any Aesir access until I clarify a few things. I’m wary of Kára’s bosses. And general chicanery,” I added meaningfully, referring to Loki and any other ramifications from my recent Norse conquests.

  She smirked, nodding. “That is wise. Consider it done.”

  I reached out and flicked through the scrolls, counting them as I told her who to expect. Before she could pepper me with questions on my new VIPs, I switched topics. “These are from the Library of Alexandria?” I asked her absently, frowning at the scrolls for some strange reason. I felt a mental itch in the back of my mind upon touching them, so I kept talking. “Why are they in the Armory?”

  Pandora smiled. “A hint to a riddle, would be my guess.”

  Then she turned and left. I watched her stride over to the balcony, frowning thoughtfully. I mentally ran back through our conversation, confirming that I hadn’t said anything to make her leave or somehow dig my hole deeper, and nodded to myself.

  “That’s a win, these days,” I told myself.

  Then I made my way over to the balcony to join her. I hadn’t told her my plan yet, and I was suspicious about her tea, wondering if she really had drugged us to sleep. I reached her side and propped my elbows on the railing, leaning forward as I stared out at the windswept sands.

  “How long did we sleep?” I asked.

  Pandora smirked out of the corner of her mouth. “Twelve solid hours, believe it or not.”

  I sucked in a panicked breath.

  Pandora gripped my forearm firmly. “It’s only been fifteen minutes outside. Relax.”

  I forced myself to calm down, taking a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  She shrugged, removing her hand. “You needed it.” She didn’t say anything about our conversation from last night, or what she’d been up to with Prometheus during our slumber. She just stood beside me, smiling at the sands.

  “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”

  She sighed tiredly. “It is what it is.”

  Prometheus drifted into the room, coming to a halt on the other side of Pandora. “Well? We finally talking about something worthwhile?”

  I ignored him, turning back to Pandora. “I need you to lock yourself up tight in here until this all blows over.”

  “No.” Her tone brooked zero argument. “I will fight this time.” I remained silent, pursing my lips with a frustrated look. “You cannot make me stay here.”

  “I can,” I said softly.

  “You wouldn’t,” she clarified, turning to glare at me.

  I was silent for a few moments, and then I let myself smile. “Okay.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What is this? Are you trying to pick a fight?”

  I let out a breath. “I get the general sense that anything I suggest these days incites an instant argument from my female superiors. Since they are wiser than me, I choose not to argue.”

  She narrowed her eyes and Prometheus began to laugh. “So, you gave me something to argue about to get it out of the way,” she said in a cool tone.

  I smiled, shrugging. “We both win.”

  She folded her arms. “You’re exasperating, my host. What is your real plan?”

  “I prefer incorrigible,” I said, chuckling. “Do you still have your box? Or urn. I can’t remember.”

  She stared at me for a long moment, likely wondering if this was another ploy. Which had also been my intent. “Yes.”

  I shied away from that look, wondering what it signified. “Good. We’re going to need it.”

  And I told them my plan. Pandora looked uneasy, but Prometheus was soon grinning. “It’s taking a page out of the old story,” he growled eagerly.

  “Do you think it’s too obvious?” I asked.

  They both shook their heads. “It’s perfect,” they said in unison.

  But where Prometheus sounded exuberant, Pandora sounded resigned. The reason for that was perfectly clear, so I didn’t comment on it.

  “I’m going to go check on Kára,” Pandora said. “Make sure she doesn’t need anything.” She curtsied to us both and glided away from the room.

  I turned to watch her. “Are you okay, Pandora?” I asked, frowning. “It was just a little fun to ease the tension.”

  She paused, her back to me. “How ironic. I was experiencing significant shoulder strain, even before your little game,” she said without looking at me. And then she continued on, disappearing from view.

  I turned to Prometheus with a questioning look. “They do that a lot around you,” he said.

  I frowned. “Do what? Get upset?”

  He shook his head. “Leave.”

  I turned to look out over the sands, biting back my knee-jerk re
sponse. “You’re not wrong,” I finally admitted. “You’re not wrong at all.” But my thoughts drifted to one woman who hadn’t left me. I’d left her. Othello. In the end, that hadn’t worked out all that well, either.

  “She’s just concerned for you, Nipple. It’s a difficult thing when hope seems lost.” I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, but he was speaking conversationally, not seeming to regard the weight of his words.

  Which only made his words heavier on my heart.

  I nodded absently, staring out at the windswept sands, thinking about tight shoulders. “I think it’s time for me to hit something. Hard.”

  He grinned. “Atta’ boy.” He finished his drink and set down his cup. Then he glanced down, tensing in surprise. A small ornate wooden box rested between us. I hadn’t even noticed that Pandora had left it behind—or that she’d even had it on her to leave behind.

  Prometheus eyed the infamous Pandora’s Box anxiously. It was made of black wood and carved with symbols not unlike the runes on my Titan Thorns. In fact, they began to glow for the first time since leaving my prison. I shuddered at that. Had it been carved with the Omegabet?

  And were they protections or curses?

  I picked it up warily, waiting for the world to end. I let out a sigh of relief, echoed by Prometheus. It was surprisingly light. “Any idea how to use it?” I asked.

  “I think you just open it. The world ends all by itself, I’d imagine,” he said somberly.

  “This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but with a whimper…” I quoted.

  Prometheus stared at me. “You have a little girl to save, right? Alice?”

  I nodded, clenching my jaw. “I have more than one girl to save,” I said, thinking about Kára. And Pandora. And Alice. And Aphrodite.

  The funny thing was, they were trying to save me. And we were all tripping over each other in the process. Maybe it was time for them to save themselves.

  “Then let’s make Zeus whimper,” Prometheus growled, snapping his fingers. Ignus crackled to life on his palm. The little pyromaniac grinned at me.