Carnage: Nate Temple Series Book 14

by Shayne Silvers

  She tapped a few buttons on her keyboard and scrolled a few times with her mouse, reading several of the screens in rapid, practiced motions. “Raego and his dragons are still hunting for Peter and Alaric. No luck yet.” She folded her arms, swiveling to face Death. “Alucard and Tory visited his estate to have a stern talk about the statue failure. Tory locked down every shifter on the property and Alucard almost killed Raego.” She paused. “Luckily for Raego, a Good Samaritan jumped in and prevented bloodshed. Barely. Raego promptly destroyed the rest of the statues on his lawn—like he should have done a long time ago.”

  Death grunted, turning away. “Someone needed to stop the Horseman of Absolution from making his grand debut on a shifter ally. I had a talk with them both. A long, pointed talk.”

  Good fucking lord. Alucard and Tory had almost eradicated the shifter dragons? Over Yahn? And Death had prevented it?

  Othello assessed her lover in silence. Whatever she saw chilled her, and she turned back to her screens. “It seems one of Callie’s men was abducted in Kansas City, but that’s all she’s saying.” I let out a sigh of relief. Carl and Yahn had gotten Ryuu. The fact that Callie hadn’t mentioned specifics gave me hope that she’d gotten the note and was following instructions.

  Death began to pace again, clenching his fists. “I do not like this. As far as I know, Callie never crossed paths with Alaric or Peter. They were before her time.”

  Othello nodded, still reading her screens.

  “Which means they are trying to draw Nate out,” Death finally said, sounding as if the words had been pulled out of him by force.

  “Is Nate still working on his secret project with Zeus?”

  Death didn’t answer for a few moments. “So I hear. Nate has always been secretive, but I don’t like the fact that no one can sense him. Hermes said he’s covered in protective runes for a reason, but why hasn’t he met with anyone directly? People have seen him here and there, but not for longer than a few minutes, and always at a distance.”

  “Hermes answered those questions. You were there.”

  Death punched a fucking hole in the wall, about two feet from my face. I almost fell on my ass to see his skeletal fist poking through my side of the stone wall. He pulled it out and I remained leaning against the wall, wondering if I had been made. With the now larger hole in the wall, I could hear them even clearer. Which meant they could hear me easier as well.

  It had apparently been a reflexive action, because Death answered her in a calmer tone. Jesus. He’d almost pulverized me without even knowing I was there. Talk about irony. How had he sensed me on the astral plane but not here? Did he have more power there? That was a scary thought.

  “Hermes is worse than Loki in many ways. He is the confidence man on Wall Street selling you shares in a lucrative, stock of the century, investment. Loki is the man selling timeshares to Branson.”

  I smirked to myself. That was a good way to put it.

  Othello shifted his focus back to current events. “Everyone is coming to Chateau Falco later for a meeting. To discuss matters of Peter. Maybe Callie has an update that could help us track him.”

  Death grumbled something vaguely affirmative. “What else?”

  “A Valkyrie has gone rogue,” Othello said.

  I eagerly stepped back up to my viewpoint. They were talking about Kára.

  “I know,” Death said. “She got involved with Quinn MacKenna, believe it or not. That girl is almost as infuriating as Nate.”

  Othello leaned forward interestedly, dropping her feet from the desk. “Really?” I was just as surprised as her. Kára hadn’t mentioned that. Did that mean Quinn was really out of her jail? Had my follow-up dreams with her been as real as they had felt? That was troubling.

  “It had nothing at all to do with Nate,” Death explained. “Just an unhappy coincidence. I hope Callie Penrose isn’t half as troublesome as those two. Especially if she’s coming here for this meeting. If you tell me Quinn is also on her way, I’m leaving.” I saw that he was smiling, and that Othello was smirking back at him.

  “Have you spoken to Odin?” Othello asked after a few moments. “Does Freya know about…the rogue Valkyrie?”

  Death regarded her with what I assumed was a cool warning, judging by how she seemed to shy away. Death had a hardcore resting bitch face, so maybe he’d unintentionally hit her with the full-frontal RBF. “I have a meeting with him tomorrow night. I’m sure the topic will come up.”

  I arched an eyebrow. Death was meeting with Odin? What was that all about? Was Kára in trouble? And why hadn’t she mentioned running into Quinn? Where had she run into Quinn? On the astral plane like I had? It seemed like a stupid thing to hide from me. Maybe she just hadn’t wanted to stress me out since I had enough going on.

  “I know this might not be the right time,” Othello began, staring at Death’s chest rather than his face, “but maybe we could visit my—”

  “NO!” Death shouted, cutting her off. His eyes flicked up to the rafters. Chateau Falco quivered in agitation at the booming sound of his voice. My eyes bugged out of my head with desperation, needing to know what she had been about to say more than almost anything in the world.

  “I’m sorry,” Othello whispered. “I didn’t mean—”

  Death enveloped her in a tight embrace, looking torn. “No. I’m sorry, Othello. I shouldn’t have shouted. But these walls have ears.” I flinched instinctively, fearing he was about to punch through the wall again and grab his Peter with a triumphant cry.

  I frowned. Even my thoughts were a barren field of mistaken phrasing.

  She nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. It was a slip of the tongue.”

  “I love you, Othello,” Death said, clutching her tightly. “Even though it risks my own soul.”

  She sighed in defeat. “Take me to bed. I need the distraction.”

  Death eyed her hungrily. “Of course, my love. Perhaps a break is just what we need.”

  She eyed him with a smokey gaze. “You’re about to break off a piece of that ass in my bed, Horseman,” she said, chuckling huskily.

  He actually blushed at the role reversal. Then he eyed the room thoughtfully. “Why waste time finding a bedroom?” he asked mischievously. “This desk looks sturdy…”

  “Didn’t you say the walls have ears?” she teased.

  “If they’re lucky, maybe they also have eyes. I want them to see and hear you scream,” he said. “Our pleasure is nothing to keep secret.”

  I felt an icy dagger stab into my heart with each word, seeming to take my breath away.

  In response, Othello ripped off her top and I blushed to find she wore no bra.

  I managed to peel my eyes away from the torrent of naked flesh and hastily discarded clothing, but I could do nothing about the sounds as I walked away. The panting. The kissing.

  I forced myself to focus on the meaningful aspects of their conversation. My Horsemen were coming here to Chateau Falco. That presented an opportunity. As I slipped away, making my way back through the tunnels to the Armory, I couldn’t shrug off concerns about Othello’s memory shard amulet.

  And what the hell had Othello been trying to say before Death cut her off? My old friend was racking up secrets—and all of them seemed to involve me. I knew he viewed me as a brother and would do anything for me—he’d proven that numerous times.

  But sometimes families had the most secrets…

  47

  I made my way back to the entrance to the Armory, feeling numb. I continued to ruminate on what I’d heard.

  Othello had mentioned that Ryuu had already been taken. At least, I was pretty sure she’d been talking about Ryuu—as long as my pirates had taken the right ninja. I hoped Yahn had made use of his eyepatch so as not to be seen—or Callie and Alucard might very well go to war. Alucard was a hair away from going postal, according to Othello’s news update. Almost killing Raego? And Callie would raise Hell—literally—to get Ryuu back after his heartfelt statements at thei
r picnic. Callie worked with angels and demons. I hoped Carl hadn’t painted a holy target on his back by following my plan.

  I stood at our rendezvous point for about ten minutes before I even considered wondering why Kára wasn’t back yet. It had to have been an hour by now. It had felt like a lifetime for me.

  What if Kára had been caught? Falco wouldn’t let her get into trouble, unless Kára grew cocky and wandered out in the open for some reason. She didn’t know the mansion like I did, and I wasn’t sure if her confidence about stealth was arrogance or magical. If she was caught, it might give up my whole plan. Othello already knew Kára was hunting for me. If they found her here, difficult questions would be asked—and no one seemed in the mood for peaceful interrogation tactics.

  “Falco, take me to Kára. Now,” I demanded, snapping out of my mental funk.

  The wall beside me cracked with a dusty expulsion of mortar and stone, revealing a different door. I shook my head, biting down my concern about this new development with my mansion. How I could just tell it where I wanted to go and a pathway would be provided. Did it have something to do with my own powers or had she been able to do it all along?

  “Thank you. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about our talk. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed,” I added, taking a line from my parents.

  The door promptly disappeared as if I’d only imagined it.

  I stared at the stone wall. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, glaring up at the rafters. “You can’t blame me for feeling deceived!” I called out, my voice echoing.

  Falco remained steadfast. “Fine. You hurt my feelings. I know you had your reasons.”

  The mansion purred begrudgingly, but no door appeared.

  I flung up my hands. “I’m sorry!”

  As if I’d said open sesame, the door reappeared. I muttered inaudible curses—so Falco could not make sense of them—under my breath as I shoved the door open. She was likely to lock me in the tunnel if I didn’t get a grip on my temper.

  I quickly made my way down the tunnels at a nervous jog, trusting Falco to take me to the right place. Ten minutes went by before I heard voices from another peephole just ahead. The tunnel branched off to the right, but I halted abruptly when I heard Gunnar’s familiar voice.

  I leaned up to the peephole to see him talking with Ashley. He was shirtless, pacing back and forth in what looked like one of the upstairs bedrooms. Ashley watched him with a stern look on her face, and I knew he was in the doghouse, figuratively speaking.

  He must have told her about our quest to free Fenrir, and how he’d allowed his minor children to join in on the crime, making it a family affair. The Court of Ashley would sentence him and the pups to a few years of doghouse arrest for that. As long as he didn’t snitch on The Godfather—me—I’d let him ride out his sentence worry-free. I began pulling away to pursue Kára’s tunnel when his words drew me up short.

  “It was so ridiculous that I thought it was a prank,” Gunnar chuckled. “Peter walked around the shelves for a while, grabbed a ridiculous amount of worthless junk, and then he took a two-hour nap on a forklift with a teddy bear. Alaric Slate ran around like a maniac, searching for him. It was almost like they were playing hide-and-seek.”

  I gritted my teeth. It had been way more dangerous than that. I’d been stealthy as hell.

  “But he had Nate’s satchel, right?” Ashley asked nervously.

  Gunnar nodded. “It sure looked like it, judging by how much he took. It’s concerning, but Nate’s been spotted numerous times, and he trusts Hermes. Even the Minotaur vouched for Hermes. And Nate picked up Alice to keep her safe. Freya didn’t bat an eye over it, and Freya will do anything to protect children,” he said reassuringly, implying how much she cared for their own kids. She’d literally bonded her godly powers to them to keep them safe. “Whatever Nate’s up to, it’s some crazy-ass plan that will only make sense when he’s finished. Maybe he is dealing with Peter and we just don’t know it—lulling him into a false sense of confidence by giving him that satchel. It’s only useful to Nate, after all. No one else can get anything out of it.”

  Ashley sighed. “I hope you’re right. What else did they do at Grimm Tech? Set traps?”

  Gunnar scratched his head, frowning. “Well, they got into a slap fight over some item, but I don’t know what it was. Peter was choking Alaric out at one point, and then they knocked something off the shelf. Minutes later, they both disappeared. And that was well before Yahn was taken. Maybe someone else was in the Vault, too,” he said, shrugging. “Because the Peter and Alaric show looked like the Two Stooges.”

  I grimaced angrily, my pride wounded at their rendition of my robbery.

  “Anyway,” Gunnar continued, his humor evaporating in an instant. “Callie just arrived, and she’s out for blood. One of her ninjas is missing, but she won’t talk about it for some reason.”

  Ashley sat up straighter. “And Alucard?”

  “He was at the gate with Tory and the Reds a few minutes ago. He’s probably downstairs now. I told Callie we would meet in the office in ten minutes. I texted Alucard to meet us there, as well,” he growled, raking his hands through his long blonde hair. On the nightstand, a marvelous hammer stood, hilt up, and his eye kept drifting towards it subconsciously.

  “You planning to use that today?” Ashley asked, only faintly kidding.

  He jerked his attention away with a mumbled curse. “Let’s just say I’m not leaving it out of sight anytime soon. Where are the pups? With tempers this high, I don’t want them wandering around by themselves.”

  Ashley stood, looking furious. “You can’t mean that.”

  Gunnar faced her, squaring his shoulders. “Someone took Yahn, and I don’t think it was Peter. Now someone has taken one of Callie’s people,” he growled, sounding troubled. He turned his back on her, clenching his fists as he faced his hammer again. Mjolnir…and he was considering bringing it to a meeting inside Chateau Falco—that was how concerned he was. Damn it, Gunnar, I thought. Stop being such a good detective. Just for a little while longer.

  Ashley slowly approached her husband, setting her hand on his broad, muscular back. He was breathing heavily, looking as if he was preparing for a boxing match only moments away. He flinched under her touch, but she didn’t let up. Finally, he let out a shuddering sigh.

  “You are Wulfric.” Her words had an immediate effect.

  He spun, gripping her by the waist, and pulling her close. She gasped in surprise, melting into his advance. He kissed her deeply, growling as he did so. Finally, she pulled away, placing a dainty looking palm on his massive chest.

  “You are the Horseman of Justice. It falls to you to broker a peace between your fellows in Nate’s absence.”

  He nodded affirmatively. “I agree. The question is whether my fellows feel the same way. Hence, the hammer,” he said, extending a hand to the side. Mjolnir zipped into his grasp and tendrils of electricity rippled up his arms, making his veins pop out.

  Ashley regarded her hulking husband with an amused grin. “Perhaps you should put a shirt on before you grab your hammer. The pecs might distract Callie for a second or two, but they won’t help you with Alucard,” she teased.

  Gunnar stared back at her, and then grinned wolfishly. He set the hammer down and tugged on a plain white tee that had been tossed onto the bed. Then he grabbed his hammer again.

  Their conversation abruptly ended at the sound of barking from the halls. Panicked, nervous, frightened barking.

  Gunnar snarled. Ashley snarled.

  I squeed—maybe even peed, a little.

  The tunnel leading to Kára led suspiciously close to the source of the barking. Damn it! I raced down the hallway even as I heard Gunnar blast through the bedroom door with his hammer, not even bothering to try the handle.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit,” I panted, sprinting down the hall. “Stall them, Falco. Please!”

  I felt the mansion rumble, but it wasn’t a relief.

/>   Because it sounded suspiciously like wizard’s fire, werewolf howls, and vampire screams rather than her offering sanctuary to Kára.

  48

  I reached a solid wall and took the gamble of all fucking gambles, pushing it open without concern for anyone on the other side. I didn’t have magic. All I had was the element of surprise.

  I fell out into a hallway and stumbled directly into Kára. She held a large black puppy with white paws under one arm—Makayla—and her trident in the other. The other pup—Calvin—was white with startlingly pale blue eyes, and he was currently dancing about like a madman, weaving back and forth between the Valkyrie’s legs. The pups took one look at me and began wagging their tails.

  Werewolf howls echoed down the corridor and I heard Callie’s familiar voice cursing from a different adjacent hallway. “Why isn’t my Gateway working?” she demanded, and I hoped to God that it was because Falco was covering our asses.

  I stared from Kára to the happy pups with a bewildered look. She stared back at me, her face smudged with soot and a new dent on her shoulder armor. “What the hell?” I bent down and scooped up Calvin, spinning back to face my secret tunnel and hide.

  But it was no longer there.

  I stood there, stunned, cringing as the howling grew louder and closer, coordinating their attacks. “Open, damn you!” I cursed, slapping at the wall. “Please!”

  That’s when I heard Gunnar right around the corner, snarling savagely with his wife in hot pursuit. Shit. Falco didn’t want to reveal her secrets with them so close. I took off at a dead sprint, motioning for Kára to get ahead of me. If my friends saw anyone, I wanted them to get a long hard look at Peter’s ass,

  Not Kára’s ass—that was for my eyes only.

  I stumbled at the abstract thought but pressed on.

  Calvin licked at my arm, whining and wriggling happily, somehow able to see through my illusion when no one else had been able to. Or maybe he could smell me beneath it. Dogs trusted their sense of smell more than their eyesight. “You okay, boy?” I asked, wondering why they had let out such panicked barks if they hadn’t been under duress.