Carnage: Nate Temple Series Book 14

by Shayne Silvers

  “Oh?” She asked, sounding amused. “Aphrodite tell you that?”

  I shook my head. “Hera. I’ve never seen a woman hate her husband so much. It was endearing. She also said love is for losers.”

  She shuddered. “Sounds like a real piece of work.”

  I nodded. “She’s a lush. Reminds me of Miss Hannigan in Annie.” Callie laughed, shaking her head. “Hey, on a serious note. Do you know why Carl was wearing a cowboy hat when he brought Ryuu back?” I asked, unable to imagine the stoic ninja wearing such a getup.

  Unless…he was a cowboy ninja.

  Callie laughed. “It belongs to Xylo. He likes hats. Says they help him fit in.” She frowned at me. “I was wondering why Xylo was so agitated earlier. Why did Carl take that?” she asked with a bewildered look on her face.

  “Some answers can be worse than the questions, Callie. I think twice before asking Carl anything these days. Apologize to Xylo for me. I’ll get it back.” I thought about it. “You know what? How about I just write you a check for damages. Carl can be possessive.”

  She chuckled. “Just forget about it.” She pointed at Gunnar and Alucard, who were standing around unsupervised. I was surprised Kára hadn’t sent them to polish her armor. Speaking of…

  “She left through a Gateway about five minutes ago,” Callie answered the look on my face. “Looked like the inside of a bar. Need a ride?” she asked, gesturing at my Titan Thorns.

  I nodded, realizing Kára had used my last Tiny Ball to go to her bar. Why hadn’t she waited? “Please. Mind dropping me off at Buddy Hatchet? Unless you don’t know where that is,” I said with a frustrated frown.

  “Oh, I scoped it out,” she said in an overly neutral tone. When I frowned at her, her cheeks colored and she punched me in the shoulder. “Heard you were a local there and I had one too many glasses of wine one night,” she said defensively.

  I nodded, keeping my face blank. “Nothing happened, Callie,” I reassured her. “I didn’t—” I froze. Except something had happened with me and Kára. Before I’d spoken with Callie. I shot her a miserable look. “I kissed her this morning—”

  Callie pressed a finger to my lips, smiling with a heartfelt smile. “It’s okay, Nate. The fact that you even told me says a lot. And the fact that it was only this morning means even more. You had already made up your mind by then. And…I had too, technically. We just hadn’t compared notes yet,” she said reassuringly.

  I nodded gratefully. She shifted her weight, looking mildly impatient. I narrowed my eyes. “So…how long has it been since your last confession, Miss Penrose?” I asked, mockingly.

  Her cheeks flushed a deep red and she shook her head firmly. “How about that Gateway?” she blurted, ripping a hole in reality about six inches away from me, making me leap back. “There. It leads to a nearby alley since I never actually had the stones to go inside,” she muttered. “Well, I didn’t trust my self-restraint, to be accurate.”

  I stared at it in silence for a few moments.

  “Did you have something else on your mind?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Someone needs to end the bank meeting.”

  Silence answered me. Callie must have expected a different comment.

  I hopped through. “Goodbye, Callie. I’ll give Ryuu a very inappropriate hug for you and tell him how much you cried—”

  “You wouldn’t,” she hissed, clenching her fists.

  I grinned and she looked skyward, letting out a frustrated breath. “You’re impossible.”

  “I prefer incorrigible,” I replied.

  The Gateway winked shut. I was still grinning as I spun in a slow circle, searching for Buddy Hatchet. I sucked in a breath, panicking. The front door had been kicked in and the window was smashed. The tires of Yahn’s jeep had even been slashed.

  I was already running, reaching into my satchel on instinct.

  57

  I cursed myself for poking fun at Callie and causing her to shut the Gateway in a huff. She could have helped me here—

  I cut off, shaking my head. No. She couldn’t be seen with me. That was the damned point.

  So much for Kára’s vaunted security. Then again, she hadn’t been here to turn it on.

  I sucked in a breath, wondering where she was. Callie had seen her come here only minutes ago. I saw no blood or broken bodies lying on the floor, and I didn’t smell any gun residue in the air. The pups weren’t barking either. Was this a random break-in? The bar was silent. No one was on the street to call the police. Which, in all honesty, I probably didn’t want anyway.

  They might not know how to handle a cowboy lizard man, a blonde Wonder Woman, an unconscious ninja, and two puppies who turned to mist when they felt threatened. Rather than loitering outside a crime scene and getting the cops called on me, I slipped inside as silently as possible in the event the building wasn’t as empty as it seemed.

  I came to a halt, curling my lip.

  Peter sat at the bar, sipping a glass of scotch. I stared at him, clenching my jaw. He glanced over at me with a warm smile. He was idly toying with a familiar bracelet—the one that gave him ridiculous levels of power. It made him into a wizard, for all intents and purposes. What he lacked in skill and experience, he made up for in raw power. A second glass sat next to him.

  “Join me, old pal,” he said, nudging the extra glass. “We haven’t had one of our Round Table discussions in…oh, a while now,” he said darkly. A pale, bumpy, zippered scar crossed his throat from where Raego had allegedly killed him. I made a mental note to always lean in favor of decapitation in the future. The added mess was worth it.

  I made no move to join him. Where was everyone? Had Peter caught them or had they escaped? Where was Kára? I didn’t bother asking how Peter knew it was me. Zeus had woken him up. It had probably been the second thing he’d heard, right after come with me if you want to live!

  Or maybe the third, right after I’ll impale you on this live lightning bolt if you disobey me.

  But I did have a few questions. And I needed to stall him. I knew I didn’t stand a chance against his magic, and if I reached for anything in my satchel I’d only be handing that weapon over to him on a platter.

  “How did you find me?” I asked, frowning. Kára’s bar was not a well-known holdover for magic and intrigue. Then again, Callie had known about the place. And she’d sent me here. Telling me that Kára had just come here. But…I hadn’t seen Kára leave.

  I shuddered, forcing back the paranoia. That was a dark, winding path to take.

  “Ares and Apollo warned me about my imposter,” Peter said, name-dropping the gods as if they were old friends who summered together in the Hamptons. I rolled my eyes at his lack of tact—how blasé he acted about letting the information slip, as if this were some client Christmas party and Peter had used the special starch to iron his networking underwear. “They demanded to know if I was behind the recent kidnappings. Framing me…that hurts, Nate. That really hurts,” he said with mock sadness. “I assured them that you always thought with your heart, and that you must be behind it.”

  I waited. “That didn’t answer my question.”

  “I kept tabs on the dragon’s apartment after his abduction at your company. Saw him pick up the jeep earlier. Apollo tracked it here.” I bit my tongue. Damn it. Yahn had used his own jeep. At least I knew Apollo and Ares were back in play.

  “And where are your masters, Ares and Apollo? You never could do anything without stronger men backing you. Hate to tell you that those two little manbitches only eat their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches if Zeus cuts off the crusts, first—”

  Peter burst out laughing, glancing over my shoulder.

  I spun and was instantly served with one of my own recent favorite meals.

  Ares’ big beefy knuckle sandwich hit me on the chin, knocking me out cold.

  I WOKE UP WITH A GROAN, my chin aching and my skull pounding. I was in a storage room. Judging by the kegs of beer, I assumed we were still at Bu
ddy Hatchet. I was chained down to a sturdy wooden table, the metal links wrapped around my chest at least three times. Overkill since I had no magic. Two electric bulbs hung from an unfinished ceiling, and a lone window on the far wall told me that night had fallen.

  Shit.

  How long had I been unconscious? What about my meeting with Zeus? I had to be at that meeting to have even a hope at saving Alice.

  A groan beside me caused me to flinch reflexively. I glanced over to see Kára chained down beside me on a second wooden table. My eyes bugged out of my head. No…

  How had Peter gotten the drop on a fucking Valkyrie—

  “A little pigeon came pecking around for you,” Ares said, chuckling at his little Valkyrie joke as he pointed at Kára. Right. I’d forgotten about that asshole. “Tweet, tweet,” he said, flapping his elbows in a clumsy attempt at the chicken dance.

  Kára strained against her chains, rocking her whole table a few inches to the side, cursing up a storm. She still wore her armor, but it wasn’t doing her any good. She shot me a frantic look, and I knew it wasn’t fear for her own safety. She was terrified of what these clowns would do to me—right beside her. In her mind, she’d failed. She knew how these types worked. She would be used as leverage against me. And that alone was enough to break her. I could see it.

  I’d been tortured for a week. I knew the look of someone who had a chink in their armor. I’d spent days patching mine up, and making sure Carl stayed strong. Kára was tough, physically, but her heart…

  Was vulnerable.

  She shrieked, arching her back and making the chains actually groan and creak. But they didn’t break. She panted harshly, settling back down on the table, her eyes diamonds of hate.

  Ares chuckled. “Perhaps not a pigeon, but an eagle!” he chuckled.

  She sneered at him, spitting on his boots. “Face me like a man, or was your sister right? How you can only get hard for the helpless—”

  Ares snarled and then snapped one of her fingers. Apollo laughed. I roared, bucking against my chains, cursing incoherently.

  “Come take a turn, Hermes!” Ares bellowed over our animalistic thrashing. “She’s all warmed up, and she has a mouth on her!”

  Apollo stepped out of the shadows where he must have been leaning against a wall, pretending to check all his Insta comments. I sneered at him. “I bet you touch yourself to pictures of sunrises,” I said sweetly, “racing to see which one of you can rise the fastest.”

  Kára burst out laughing. Apollo’s face darkened and he stiffly turned to Ares. “Hermes should stay out front. We don’t need his illusion faltering and the cops getting calls about the break-in. Otherwise we won’t have time for our fun.” He obviously had no interest in Kára, but the look he cast my way told me he was practically salivating for a turn.

  Ares grunted and stepped back from Kára, making way for Peter to step forward. He hefted a very long kitchen knife in his hands as he made his way to the space between Kára and me. He turned to settle his glare my way.

  “Why?” he demanded. I struggled against my restraints, trying not to look at Kára before it broke my own resolve. She was gritting her teeth against the pain of her broken finger, but I knew she could ride out physical agony. The question was how much could she handle psychologically?

  I had no idea what Peter was referring to, so I answered the situation in general—why I was resisting a partnership with the Olympians. “Zeus is a prick. And these two are textbook codependents with daddy issues.”

  Apollo smacked me across the jaw, loosening a tooth. “Answer his questions so we can move on to my turn,” he growled hungrily.

  I had warm romantic thoughts of Cronus’ Scythe in my satchel, and what I would do to Apollo with it. The Castrator was going to earn another nickname for each new generation of Olympian I neutered. The Pickle Sickle. No. The Dicksickle.

  “No,” Peter snarled furiously. “Why did you let Raego kill me?” His words were clear, concise, and clipped. “I saw the look in your eyes right before everything went black. You sanctioned my death.” He tapped his throat where the wicked scar glistened with pale skin. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how he hadn’t died. “You did this,” he whispered.

  I sighed, shaking my head. “Well, you’re welcome for botching it, dickwad.”

  Peter’s face purpled and he opened his mouth—

  “We don’t give a shit about your childhood trauma,” Ares warned. “You have a job to do, little human. It’s the only reason we woke you up. Get on with it so my brother can have a private word with the bastard.”

  I grunted, shooting Peter a sly look. “Don’t mind him, Peter. He’s just mad I fucked his sister better than he could.” Ares snarled but Apollo forced him back.

  58

  Peter discreetly masked a reflex grin—a little of my old friend shining through—at my mockery of Ares. I didn’t fall for it or anything, but it earned him a little honesty. “You were not yourself, Peter. You wouldn’t listen to reason. I tried everything.”

  He shut down. “No!” he snarled, livid. “You had everything! Magic and money and friends, but you destroy everything you love, Nate. Your friends, even your lovers. Take Othello! Once you had your fun with her, you let her fall to the trash pile. Couldn’t risk mixing a peasant into the royal Temple bloodline,” he snarled bitterly.

  My heart stopped and my blood instantly boiled as my earlier nostalgia over Othello loomed into my mind’s eye in Dolby Digital Surround Sound. And how she was now happily enveloped in the arms of another man—Death.

  My heart raged, sending torrents of lava-hot blood through my veins like a broken dam.

  “That’s not true! I loved Othello! It just didn’t work out between us!” I roared.

  Peter scoffed, thumbing his knife angrily. He smirked at Kára, who glared back. “And how does that make you feel, sweetheart?” he teased. “Looks like you’re just a shiny toy for the local billionaire, too.” She fought at her chains, snarling like a wet cat.

  I panted harshly, my throat raw, as I stared at the cruel, satisfied look Peter was giving Kára.

  He was more of a monster than ever before. His time encased in stone had only served as a Petri dish for his madness to reproduce and spread into every cell of his body. I caught him absently checking his bracelet as if to make sure it was still there. He loved that power more than anything he’d ever loved before it.

  Ares and Apollo watched Peter with approving grins, unable to deny his success. Since it resulted in watching me squirm, they seemed content to let it play out a little longer before getting their own hands dirty again.

  Peter was looming over Kára, waving the knife back and forth before her eyes, speaking in low, threatening tones. Kára, for her part, looked calmer than before. The only win for us was stalling, so she was letting Peter have his fun—especially if it meant he wasn’t cutting into me.

  Maybe there was something to be said about absolute power corrupting absolutely.

  Peter and Indie had both been ravaged by their first taste of power.

  Neither had been born with magic, and forcing magic onto them had resulted in epic disaster.

  Just like the gods sitting too long in power, with no checks or limits to their desires. They had also become corrupted by it. The Carnage, as Aphrodite had warned me.

  Someone really needed to do something about that. Someone really needed to protect the Regulars of this world—from contracting power that would corrupt them, and from narcissistic gods who still flaunted their Letterman’s jackets, demanding the worship they’d once received.

  That was what Zeus wanted. He wanted adoration. By force, if necessary.

  Because he was a monster. Many of the gods were monsters. They infected each other with their penchant for unlimited greed.

  The Regulars needed a champion. A monster of their own. But a monster with a heart. He could be the peoples’ monster. Their advocate.

  Their Horseman.

  No. The Fo
ur Horsemen were foretold to eradicate the souls of men from the Earth during the End Days. That was the opposite of what I wanted.

  The Dread Four, on the other hand…

  Well, we were a second team of Horsemen, and we didn’t yet have a mission statement. Perhaps we could be the Horsemen…to the gods. To eradicate their numbers and let them taste fear for the first time in centuries. The gods would rally, banding together out of necessity. I couldn’t do it all by myself. Gunnar had killed a god. Callie had killed Dracula. Alucard had…

  Well, he’d done quite a bit of suntanning. But I’d seen him in action. He could probably kill a god if he put his back into it. The only thing that had held him back was a fear of becoming a monster. This would be a happy compromise. Be the right kind of monster.

  The Dread Four’s conscience, perhaps. Absolution seemed to marry that role well.

  Callie was the tactician—giving our enemies Despair.

  Gunnar was the force—giving our enemies the Justice they truly deserved.

  And I was the Catalyst—giving the Regulars Hope for better days. I was willing to make the calls no one else would—but that didn’t mean I was always right. I needed them as much as they needed me. Plus…

  Hello, Temple here. Of course, I would be in charge.

  Another concerning thought was how Zeus wanted my Horsemen for himself. Perhaps he knew exactly what kind of danger we represented, and that was why he wanted us on his side. So he could aim us at all the other gods—not his. That was a Zeus tactic for sure.

  But none of it mattered unless I broke free. I was currently tied to a table, unable to access my Horseman’s Mask. This point was verified by the fact that no one in the room had shat themselves.

  “What are you smiling about?” Peter demanded, snapping me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t known I was smiling. I looked up to find him staring at my Titan Thorns with a look of horror.

  I glanced down and blinked. They had cracked. A sharp, jagged line marred the once solid surface, bisecting one of the strange runes. They hadn’t broken entirely, but they had cracked. And I could sense some of my power leaking through to me.