SILVER TONGUE

Get your FREE Books!

The family classic, Grimm's Fairy Tales, is not the collection of bedtime stories Nate Temple thought it was, but actually the keys to a veritable prison housing the most dangerous bloodthirsty hit men of the supernatural community. This reckless wizard must find a way to lock up the prison for good before his city becomes a buffet table for the Brothers Grimm…

Discover Nate’s origin story, and get a sneak peek into the events that lead up to GRIMM, Book 3 in the Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series. To get your copy of FAIRY TALE as well as a free copy of OBSIDIAN SON (share it with someone who loves to read!), and lots more exclusive content, all for FREE, you just need to tell me where to send them. Click here to get your copies today!

Nate Temple Series

Obsidian Son

Blood Debts

Fairy Tale (Your FREE Book)

Grimm

Silver Tongue

SILVER TONGUE

Copyright © Argento Publishing, 2016

Chapter 1

“Do we really need to talk about this right now? This isn’t as easy as I’m making it look,” I hissed, crouching in the shadows of an old brick warehouse, focusing intently on the illusion spell I’d wrapped around the both of us. I clutched a book tightly, a slight tingle vibrating my arm as I caressed the embossed black leather cover. The sensation was no doubt caused by the residual traces of magic that were warding it for safekeeping, but I was masking that from detection now. Success, I thought to myself as I tucked it into my satchel.

Alucard’s fangs glistened in the moonlight. I looked up between the buildings at the glowing sliver of moon, and spotted a dark tide of hungry clouds rolling in. A big storm. One of those old Missouri Summer storms that pounded the city clean with a vengeance of rain and ear-splitting thunder and lightning.

As if a premonition of the storm to come, guttural howls of outrage, and an inhuman hunting cry pierced the air, and then the pounding of many thunderous feet filled the streets. I shivered. They were onto us.

My accomplice didn’t catch my tone. Or prioritize our current predicament.

“It’s just that… well, the job is hard.”

I rolled my eyes, tracking the heavy footfalls that were racing about in a frantic search just around the corner. “It’s a fucking bookstore, Alucard.” I wanted to grab him by his canines and throttle him. Worthless vampires.

“Yeah, but-”

I held up a hand, silencing him instantly.

A throaty basso voice rumbled, “Clear,” from just around the corner. It was a harsh sound, as if unused to speaking in anything other than consonants and growls. The thud of his calloused feet continued off into the distance. I took a deep breath and rounded on Alucard, careful to put as much venom into my tone as possible without breaking our masking spell. I was good, but not good enough to cover a shouting match.

“Get your head in the game. Ogres don’t appreciate being robbed.”

“Why don’t you just buy it from them, then? You know, like you told them you were-”

A barbed arrow struck the brick wall right behind Alucard’s ear, hammering deep into the stone. A frustrated curse rang out at the near miss, and all of a sudden I sensed many bodies changing direction to come directly at us.

“God damn it!” I hissed at Alucard, careful to not use his name now that they had found us. He tensed, as if about to launch himself at the archer on the roof that had nearly pierced his ear. Twenty vertical feet wasn’t difficult for a vampire. I immediately grasped his forearm, squeezing hard to stress the importance of my warning. “Remember to stay in character!” His lips tightened briefly, and then slowly morphed into a grin. He suddenly belted out a pious clarion call for all to hear.

“Usurpers, fiends, abominations, all!” And then he ran up the side of the building against our backs, and laterally launched his body across the alley to tackle the goblin archer on the adjacent roof. The goblin simply stared at his impending demise in utter disbelief, the second arrow in his calloused hand hanging loosely, forgotten.

Alucard slammed into him and the weapons went clattering down the fire escape loud enough to pinpoint our exact location. Damn it, Alucard. I didn’t have time to go after him. I tapped a few buttons on my watch, the screen depicting an aerial view of the city block around us. A swarm of glowing red forms were converging on my position in the dark alley at the bottom of the screen. I tapped a few options on the screen to send the drone home and covered my watch. I still had a warehouse of technological goodies I had, um, appropriated from my company, Temple Industries, before it had been sold to a German firm. The FBI frowned on insider trading, even though it had all really just been a setup: The Brothers Grimm complicating my life a few months back.

Seeing no other option, I sighed and stepped out into the open. A dozen or so gargantuan ogres skidded to a halt upon seeing me. They were covered in tan hides over their grey, warty, scarred skin. Primordial weapons of bone and flint hung in their meaty fists as they seethed with hatred upon seeing me. Their heads were bald, but some sported beards. Even a few of the Ogresses had faint mustaches. Ick. Several looked amazed that a lone, weaponless human stood calmly against their gang.

But if my illusion spell was working as intended – and the look on the archer’s face had kind of confirmed it was working flawlessly – they saw something else entirely standing before them. Something to be feared… or at least acknowledged with no small amount of respect. Then again, ogres weren’t too bright. So, I was ready for anything.

The leader gripped a club as big as my torso in his meaty fist. He let the tip thump to the ground as he challenged me with an aggressive glint in his eyes.

“Pretty birdboy going to die,” he growled.

I smirked back in what I hope looked like pious disdain – in line with my character. I was still getting the hang of my powers, and wasn’t entirely sure how adaptable my disguise was. For all I knew, I was standing there with a mentally deficient look on my face. Or no emotion at all. I guessed either would work fine with this disguise. I didn’t speak, not wanting to risk giving my true nature away. Instead, I tapped my cane on the ground and it rang out like a bell. The lead ogre stared at the cane with trepidation, but of course, he didn’t see a cane at all.

The ogres were all seeing a monstrous Crusades-era sword, and it was glowing with crackling blue-white light. Because standing before them was a Nephilim, a child of an Angel of Heaven and a mortal. And most avoided Nephilim like the plague, because they were rather… Old Testament, you could say. No forgive and forget with them.

Illusions kind of rock.

I wasn’t sure how much action the illusion could handle, so I was banking on the fact that simply seeing a Heavenly Warrior might be enough to keep them at bay. That had been my plan anyway, before Alucard had stumbled into an empty trashcan while we were creeping out of their vault, alerting every ogre on the block. I couldn’t risk my illusion failing if I threw down with them here and now, revealing my true identity. Especially if I used any obvert magic. Nephilim were dangerous, but wizards they ain’t. Magic would give me away faster than a cockroach skittering across the linoleum when the lights flicked on.

I felt the strain of my spell tugging at me as Alucard drew further away. Tiny droplets of sweat began to pop up on my forehead. My vision began to grow blue with the strain, as sometimes happened. If the spell broke, these guys would know exactly who had robbed them blind. Which wouldn’t go over well. Not at all.

So, I was bluffing. And I hoped they didn’t call me on it.

No elemental whips. No fire, no Shadow Walking. Just my shiny new cane.

“No God here…” The leader snarled, and then raced towards me like a charging rhinoceros. I waited until the last second, feinted left, then darted to the right, lashing out with my ‘sword’ at his strings. The cane traced a line of white fire across his flesh, and boy, did he howl!

I sneered contemptuously. The remaining ogres watched him writhing in pain as he bled out, none offering so much as to help him stand. They exchanged glances with each other, and I watched as their features began to darken in outrage.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered, under my breath. They slowly turned back to me, hungry grins on their cheeks, and then surged forward with a murderous roar that seemed to make the pavement quake.

I thought about that outcome for all of a millisecond, and then turned and fled. I took two running steps up the wall and catapulted myself to the lower rungs of the fire escape. I used a tiny boost of power to give me the extra juice to reach, and latched on, quickly pulling myself to safety. One of the ogres pounded the wall below me with his hammer fist, the brick crumbling. Then his pals began to join in. The old building groaned. I raced up the metal stairs, gaining the roof to find Alucard ripping the throat out of his attacker. He leaned in as if to give the goblin a kiss.

“Stop!” I hissed. “Nephilim, remember?” I enunciated the words in low tones as I ran towards him. He shuddered, eyes lidded closed for a moment before dropping the body to the roof. He turned to me, eyes swimming with the bloodlust of his inner vampire, irises flashing a crimson red. The illusion didn’t work on us. We saw our true forms. I grabbed his shoulder and shook him until his eyes cleared. I waggled a hand for us to hurry as the building quivered again, the pounding of fairy fist against mortal brick like a steady drumbeat. He nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. “We’re out of here. I’m sending an illusion of us flying away like good little Nephilim.”

Alucard nodded as I squinted in strained focus, gathering my power and wrapping it around a single thought. The literal belief that what I was making was real. That two Nephilim were throwing themselves off a perfectly good roof before unfolding their wings and fleeing the ogres’ compound. Once confident of every minor detail, I let out my breath in a rush and flicked my hand. Power drained out of me and my knees shook as the illusion took form.

Two rather scrawny Nephilim hurtled themselves off the roof, anxiously checking over their shoulders as they flew to safety. I nodded to myself, redoubled the illusion spell that was no longer disguising us, but hiding our presence entirely, and ripped a hole through reality. A verdant spherical gateway of fire flared into existence, revealing a quiet street several blocks away on the other side. The flames limning the door reached toward the calm street with hungry, dancing claws, stating the direction of the intended travel. As far as I knew, no one would be able to walk from the other side to my current location – they would be eaten alive by the flames.

As long as those flames pointed the direction you wanted to go, you were safe.

Sparks sailed off the flames, darting though the opening and into the street beyond.

Alucard’s dark eyes glittered in the moonlight as he turned from the portal to me. He looked impressed, but also thoughtful. I rolled my eyes at him. He was still getting used to how I handled things, but now wasn’t the time. I shoved him through the opening, followed, and pulled it closed behind me as I heard the fire escape protesting under immense weight. A quick glance back revealed no pursuers, so I hoped no one had noticed our true getaway.

Chapter 2

The gateway winked out of existence, and I finally sighed, relaxing my shoulders as I sucked in a few more breaths. Then I began to laugh. Alucard was watching me with that same look. “Why didn’t you just buy it like you told them you would?”

I shook my head and turned my back on him. “Because I don’t know if we can beat the other buyer, idiot. He’s been swiping up a bunch of books from under my nose. I didn’t want to risk it.” I began striding towards our car, eager to put as much distance as possible between us and the Fae. “You know,” I said, “Gunnar never gave me these kinds of problems. He was a much better sidekick.” I opened the door to the green Tahoe, climbing inside, ignoring his curses as I smiled to myself, waiting.

Alucard made a big show as if to turn and leave. “Fine, go ahead and call him. I’ve got more important things to do anyway.”

“Like checking the mail at Plato’s Cave?” I teased.

He froze, and grumbled a few more unpleasant things under his breath. He was subconsciously rubbing his fingertips together as if he could still feel the burns. He finally opened the passenger door with a stubborn complaint, climbing inside as I started up the Plain-Jane Tahoe. I hadn’t wanted to risk driving one of my flashier cars tonight. Alucard leaned towards me as I pulled out onto the street. “If that crazy old git would stop plugging your mailbox full of religious pamphlets, it wouldn’t be a problem,” he said.

I smiled. Alucard had been managing the grand reopening of my arcane bookstore, Plato’s Cave, for the past few weeks. Having earned the disfavor of his fellow vampires by helping me out of a pickle against the Brothers Grimm a few months back, he had found himself… out of work. He had offered to help me with a bit of demolition, and in a single night, he had managed to complete the entire job, ripping out walls and studs with his bare hands. Vampire strength was kind of cool sometimes.

So, I had hired him to continue.

Things had gone fine until the store was ready for our soft opening. Then we started running into… complications. Like the mail.

Easy job, right?

Not for a vampire.

Well, not when an ex-employee of mine saw it as her God given duty to send me weekly religious pamphlets in the mail. Other employees would simply move on, tossing it in the trash as they searched for important bills and such, right? But Alucard wanted to show me how diligent he was, so he opened every single piece of mail. And vampires were a little… sensitive to religious items. Even advertisements that were related to the Almighty.

You see, anything tied to a religious belief hurts vampires like a Taser to the groin. In a rainstorm. While holding an umbrella.

And I had lost count of how many times Alucard had fallen for deceptive mail tactics. He was like Pavlov’s dog. Now, anytime he heard the mail truck he flinched. Big badass vampire scared of the mailman.

I chuckled.

“It’s not funny,” Alucard complained. I laughed even harder. It was just so ridiculous.

“She’s trying to be helpful. In her own special way,” I added lightly. “It’s not like I can ask her to stop. And I can’t tell her my manager finds it painful to open such mail. Talk about an increase. It would be like that scene in Harry Potter when the mail overflows the house! The best course of action is to say nothing about it. Keep getting one of the other employees to do the mail. You can find… something else to do.”

He grunted, so I let it go. We needed to get back to the store. We had a meeting in an hour. With the ogres. And we couldn’t afford to look out of sorts or they would discover we had decided to rob them blind rather than sticking to our deal.

My cellphone rang as we came to a stoplight. I frowned, glancing down. It was Indie. I smiled. Hopefully her night had been successful, netting us an easy six-figures from the auction.

“Hey, doll…” I began, but my breath tightened as I heard her.

She was crying.

“Everyone is dead,” she whispered between sobs.

My hands were suddenly shaking, and Alucard was watching me with concern. “Where are you?” I all but shouted.

“I’m… still at the auction. I don’t know what happened. I woke up and everyone was d… dead. I think…” she took a shaky breath. “I think I need to leave.” I was almost hyperventilating by now, my fight or flight system kicking into overdrive. “Stay put. We’re only a few minutes away.” I hung up the phone and peeled out, ignoring the red light in front of me as I veered right to head to the auction house. What the hell could have turned an auction into a slaughterhouse?

And…

Why was Indie the only survivor?

Alucard voiced my fears. “Think she did it?” He asked softly.

“Gunnar was a much better sidekick,” I spat.

Alucard folded his arms stubbornly as we tore through the night. “We’re going to be late for your meeting with the ogres.” I groaned, mashing my foot harder into the pedal. We couldn’t afford to be late and look suspicious. Not after robbing them. They would be looking for suspects. Rain began to pelt the windshield as my mind raced with options.

First things first. I needed to make sure my fiancé was safe. Even if that meant hiding her from the law. As if reading my mind, Alucard piped up. “Perhaps Gunnar wouldn’t have been a good sidekick for this one,” he said, alluding to my childhood friend’s background as an officer of the law.

I grunted noncommittally and he laughed in triumph.

Chapter 3

W

e parked in the back. Since I had heard no alarms yet, I didn’t want to risk breaking in and setting them off, so I threw up a hasty gateway to get us inside.

See? I can use my head sometimes. We emerged into a dim storage room. Artifacts surrounded me. Books, paintings, documents, even a couple of jade dragon statues. Raego would have loved those.

Scanning the room, it didn’t appear that anything had been stolen, the place ransacked, or anything taken. In fact, everything looked completely normal. Alucard scented the air and pointed a finger through the doorway leading from the lockup to the stage where bidders should have been. I held up a hand and cautiously crept through the doorway. It squeaked a bit and I heard a rustle of movement.

I threw myself down to the ground and tripped over a bench, landing on my shoulder with a grunt. I opened my eyes to see a fist lash out and connect with Alucard’s jaw. I started to gather my power as the form blurred into motion after him, but I was too late. A second later the form slammed Alucard up against the wall with one arm. Drywall cracked in the shape of his head, and inch long claws sank into the soft flesh of his throat. Alucard struggled for breath as he glanced down for a first look at his attacker’s face. I very slowly climbed to my feet, thinking non-violent thoughts, careful not to spook the attacker and end Alucard’s life.

“H…hi, Indie,” he managed. I didn’t move. Carefully. It might be Indie, but she had no control over her powers. Or at least very little control over her powers. The smallest thing could set her off.

A vampire breaking into a room that she occupied, for example.

I spoke softly. “Indie. It’s okay. It’s just Alucard. You can let him down now…”

“Thieving vampire thinks he can catch me by surprise, does he?” She hissed, vampire canines flashing. Indie’s free hand crackled with visible power, her eyes a smoky, shifting shade of darkness tinged with brief flickers of light, like lightning. The eyes of a Brother Grimm. Or Sister Grimm in her case. She had inherited the powers against her will, but it had been the only way to bring her back to life. The telltale Grimm amulet swung freely from her movement, tapping against her chest.

Through their amulets, Grimms’ were able to duplicate the power of any freak they encountered. Hence her ability to dually wield vampire canines – thanks to Alucard – and a magical orb of power in her clenched fist – from my powers as a Maker. She was panting heavily. Alucard very wisely remained still.

“Breathe, Indie. This is just the worthless replacement manager for my bookstore. Remember?”

Alucard scowled slightly at my comment, but remained motionless. Indie’s eyes widened in abrupt recognition before letting Alucard go. She zipped to the other side of the room in an inhuman blur and fell to her knees, sobbing. She called out softly with her head between her knees, punching the floor – which crunched at each hit as she vented off some of the power surge that had almost killed Alucard. “Sorry. Sorry, I thought…”

Alucard climbed to his feet, rubbing his throat a few times and said, “It’s okay, Indie.” The small wounds began closing up on their own, leaving not a mark. He smiled. “Nice to see you. You’re getting stronger, by the way.”

She let out a very small laugh and climbed to her feet. Her face was a mess, and now that her eyes were back to normal, I could see that they were red from crying. She watched me sadly, guiltily, ashamed. “I can’t control it,” she murmured helplessly.

I nodded in understanding. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out sooner or later. Right now, we need to get you out of here. Are any of the alarms going off?”

She stared back, shaking her head. “I don’t think so.”

I approached her, gently grasping her arm. Her eyes instantly shifted back to the smoky black, swirls of carbon crashing against pools of oil, with flickering thunderclouds off in the distance. I felt a faint thrum of power emitting from her fingertips in my palm. A small whip of fire lashed out from her other hand, lighting a nearby stand on fire. She flinched as her predatory eyes flashed to the power at her fingertips. I remained motionless and waited for her to look at my face again. She did, and I stared into those deadly eyes, willing her power down. She blinked, crunched her brows in focus, and the whip extinguished, as did the energy pulsing between our skin. “See?” I smiled. “You’ve got this. Just need practice.” The look on her face was not encouraging, but she did nod.

“Sorry again, Alucard.” He waved off her comment and slowly began to stalk the room.

I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’s used to that reaction from women.” Alucard chuckled darkly, as he continued to catalog the scene. I wrapped Indie up in a hug. She didn’t return the gesture, simply rocked back and forth, sobbing. “We’ll figure it out,” I repeated.

“How? I’ve been trying for months to control this damned curse. I can’t be within ten feet of a freak without losing control.” She glanced around the room, and a look of horror dawned on her face. “What if… what if I did this? What if there was a freak in the room and I blacked out. Killed everyone…”

I shook my head, but before I could speak, Alucard chimed in.

“No. We’re the only freaks here.” He cocked his head. “Also, no alarms. Silent or otherwise.” That gave us a few minutes, but we still had to hurry for our meeting with the ogres.

I scanned the room for the first time and blinked. In the brief attack, I hadn’t noticed we were standing amidst about a dozen bodies. They were everywhere. Most looked to have simply expired in place. No battle wounds, which if it had been Indie, would be the case. I sighed in relief at that small fact. Then, like a pigeon on the Boardwalk, Alucard crapped on my thought. “They were all killed with magic.”

Alucard nudged something with a boot. It was a velvet case big enough for a large book. I knelt down beside it, careful not to disturb the evidence, and also not wanting to put my DNA anywhere near this gruesome scene. I felt a presence beside me and flinched. Indie had silently followed and now loomed behind me. She hadn’t made a sound. Even Alucard flinched upon seeing her, and he had supernatural hearing.

“I wish you would stop doing that,” he growled. She smiled lightly.

“That was beside me when I woke up. It had the book in it,” she pointed. “The one you wanted me to buy.”

“It’s missing.” Alucard said matter-of-factly.

Indie frowned at him pensively, then turned to me. “Wouldn’t Gunnar have been a better choice to help you tonight?” Alucard’s face darkened murderously.

“Had to pull from the bench tonight. Gunnar was busy,” I said.

“You know what?” Alucard began, voice rising in anger.

“Seems like he’s busy a lot lately.” Indie said, ignoring Alucard entirely.

“Yeah…” I sighed. But I changed the topic. We needed to get out of here. “Okay. Let’s grab the case and skedaddle. Is there any evidence that you were here?”

Her face grew concerned. “We all had to sign in. I was wearing those full-length silk gloves you gave me,” she patted her purse, “so no prints, at least. But I don’t know where the logbook is. I couldn’t find it after I called you.”

“Well, we definitely need to find that. I’ll magic it or someth-”

Alucard interrupted me, eyes distant as he seemed to stare through the wall leading to the entrance. “Guys,” he warned. “The B-Team Sidekick’s spidey sense is tingling.” He cocked an ear. Then I heard it. Sirens. “Still no alarm, so someone must have called it in. But if everyone who attended this soiree is dead, how would anyone know to call it in?” We turned to Indie. Her eyes were wild with fear.

“I… I think everyone is here. I can’t be sure. What do we do?” Her tone was growing frantic.

“Tick Tock,” Alucard muttered. “They’re on our street now. And we have that meeting.”

“Seven Hells!” I slapped my thigh in frustration, which caused a dull throb of pain in my shoulder from where I had fallen on it a few minutes ago. We didn’t have time to go find the logbook. I grabbed Indie’s hand, bent over to snatch up the case, scanned the room, and then began pulling her after me into the back storeroom. I did a quick scan of the room again to be sure, but still, nothing seemed to be missing. I opened a gateway back to the alley. It was now raining, and I knew that pretty soon the storm would hit in earnest.

My crew raced after me and we piled into the Tahoe as quickly as possible, getting wet in the process. Then I carefully backed out of the alley and slowly began to drive us away. I couldn’t risk attracting attention to our vehicle. I flipped on the windshield wipers as the rain increased.

As if on cue, a cop car rounded the street ahead of us, sirens blaring and lights flashing. He didn’t slow as he passed us, and we collectively let out a breath as we continued on.

Then he slammed on the brakes, the car skidding sideways on the wet street as he negotiated his car to turn around. I slammed my hand against the steering wheel as he floored it after us.

“Okay. Everyone shut your mouth. Don’t speak. Don’t move. Just sit still,” I hissed. “Let me think.”

Chapter 4

I pulled the car to the curb and delved deep into my new powers, hoping I had enough juice to pull this off. I still was no master at my new abilities, but I didn’t have a choice. I needed to make sure we weren’t associated with the scene. Especially with Indie’s name about to show up as the only survivor after they cross-checked the guest list. I pulled over and put the vehicle in park. The second the cop exited the vehicle I blindly cast a surge of power behind his vehicle, which elicited a small flashbang of sound and light, like a gunshot or firecracker.

As expected, he whirled, hand on his holster. I used the confusion to cast a blanket of power over our entire vehicle, and sighed in exhaustion, slumping into my seat as he whirled back to us, confused. He wiped the rain from his eyes, frowned at our vehicle, frowned behind him again, and then began stalking up to the driver’s side window. I rolled it down obediently and kept my hands on the steering wheel.

“Si, Capitan?” I spoke with a thick Spanish accent, leaning slightly away from the rain dripping in through the open window.

“License…” He took a step back and stared at me. Then at the vehicle. I watched him with a confused frown.

“Si, license…” I began to reach for my wallet.

“Wait. I…” He took off his hat and scratched his head. Then he wiped the rain from his face and crunched the hat back in place. He composed himself quickly, glancing around again as if to make sure no one was witnessing his lack of professionalism. “What kind of car is this?” He asked.

“Prius, Capitan.” I answered, not hiding my anxiety. Sweat was beginning to bead on my forehead from holding the spell. The rain began to fall heavier.

“I’m looking for a green Tahoe,” he muttered, almost as if speaking to himself. I frowned back, feigning confusion. He saw the look on my face and regained his composure, nodding once. “Just see that you get home safely. Have you seen a green Tahoe in the last few minutes?”

I frowned back, shaking my head. “No, Capitan. No verde Tahoe.” His radio squawked at him. He listened, shoulders tightening at the garbled exchange. Then he turned back to us.

“Right. Have you seen anything unusual lately? Suspicious characters stalking the block?” I shook my head. “Have your passengers seen anything?” He peered into the vehicle.

I turned to Alucard, flickers of his disguise visible to my eyes for some reason. Which likely meant I had been too hasty and that my spell wasn’t up to par. But hell, I had disguised an entire vehicle! Alucard looked like a terrified adolescent Hispanic boy. He shook his head. The policeman grunted. “It’s alright, son. No need to be frightened. You have a nice evening. It’s not a nice night to be out on the streets. Get your family inside.” He glanced through the back window at Indie. “Ma’am,” he tipped his hat.

“Si, Buen fin de semana, Capitan,” I offered politely. He frowned briefly at my Spanish before hurrying back to his car. I waited for him to turn the vehicle around and race back to the Auction House. I only relaxed my power after he had disappeared down the alley we had just exited. My bones felt like jelly and my thoughts were sluggish as I simply focused on keeping my eyes open.

“What the hell was that?” Alucard asked, jarring me back to attention.

Right. We were still near the scene. We needed to be gone. Now. I put the car in gear. “A diversion. Let’s go.”

Indie piped up. “Was it just me, or did you really just make us look like Hispanics driving a Prius?”

I smiled as I carefully navigated the vehicle out of the danger zone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I grinned at her reflection in the rearview mirror, wiping my brow. “Now, let’s go pretend to be surprised when the ogres tell us they were robbed.”

“Wait, what?” Indie asked in alarm.

“So, that’s what it feels like. Being on this side of the one-liner… This is fun,” Alucard beamed. “It’s like a small high throwing out offhand comments that the other person doesn’t fully understand. Now I know why you do it so often, Little Brother.” He grinned at me.

I hated his pet name for me. Must be a New Orleans thing. Or a Vampire thing. “Gunnar would have already known that.” I replied, deadpan.

“Yeah, but with one eye, he’s not much of a navigator.” Alucard folded his arms. I burst out laughing.

“No, seriously. I thought you bought the books from the ogres,” Indie persisted from the backseat.

“It’s probably better if you don’t know details. They aren’t going to be happy, and we can’t have you hulking out on them.”

“Then drop me off first,” she offered.

“Not after tonight. You’re a wanted woman. I want to keep my eye on you.”

“Eye!” Alucard burst into giggles.

“I’ll be sure to let Gunnar know how fond you are of eye jokes. Maybe you can even tell him a couple yourself…” Indie teased with a devilish grin. That shut him up. I smiled and drove on.

Chapter 5

We strode up to the entrance of Plato’s Cave. The wind howled as rain pummeled the streets, soaking us to the bone. But at least it wasn’t cold. I spotted a religious pamphlet attached to the door handle and had a sudden idea.

I hid a smirk as I pretended to read something important on my phone. “All joking aside, you did a good job tonight, Alucard,” I said, pretending to pay no attention to how much my compliment had caught him off guard. “Mind getting the door while I check this? The monks are wrapping up renovations, so it should be unlocked,” I murmured distractedly.

“Sure.” Being the manager for my store over the last several weeks, Alucard was now familiar with the door, and out of habit, didn’t glance down as he reached for the handle. I watched with dark glee in my heart. “The power of Christ compels thee…” I whispered to myself. For the briefest of milliseconds, his hand came in contact with the religious flyer that prominently displayed a giant crucifix.

And God had an opinion about that.

A bolt of lightning immediately zapped his ass out into the street. He hammered into a trashcan – it was full – along the way, and began cartwheeling through the air.

Heh. Vampires. Crosses.

Indie flinched at the sudden violence, and time abruptly halted.

I instinctively spun, my cane out and ready to attack. I had only seen this when attacked by Grimms or Angels. Drops of water hung suspended in the air, unmoving as my eyes roved the rooftops for danger. Then I saw Indie shift and I blinked, rounding on her in disbelief. She stared back, looking startled and confused. She had just frozen time like Jacob and the Grimms had been able to do. For everyone but the two of us. Then I spotted Alucard floating in midair, halfway through his projectile flight into the street after his ricochet off the trashcan.

The look on his face was priceless.

“Indie! Hold whatever you just did for one more second,” I pleaded, frantically opening the camera app on my phone before she lost control of her time manipulation.

I managed to snap a quick picture before Indie lost her tenuous grip and reality warped back to normal. Alucard continued his flight, skipping through several puddles before slamming into the building on the other side of the street. He instantly began cursing up a storm of his own. His clothes steamed. I pressed a few buttons on my phone with a grin before pocketing it away.

I turned back to Indie. “How did you just do that?” I asked, a big stupid grin plastered on my face. “You sensed danger and instantly froze time to give you a second to think. That… that’s incredible!” Her eyes were wide, but they slowly began to shift to a smile as she realized that her power had finally done something good for a change.

“I have no idea,” she answered honestly, a thoughtful frown on her face. “But I think I can do it again.” I waved a hand for her to try. She scrunched her brows together for a few moments as I listened to Alucard climb to his feet, his cursing growing louder and more animated. Indie finally sighed in defeat. “I can sense it, but I can’t repeat it.”

I shrugged. “Don’t stress out about it. Learning magic is better when you don’t push yourself too much. It’s an instinctual skillset. Like you just saw.” She nodded in acceptance, but I could tell it still annoyed her. I reached out to snatch up the pamphlet and waved it at Alucard. His eyes were murderous as he began to cross the street, fists flexing.

I quickly darted through the door, noticing my phone’s vibration as it alerted me about the upcoming meeting with the ogres. We were just in time.

The smell of sawdust and freshly oiled leather hung heavy in the air. The new furniture had arrived. As I glanced around, I felt a small quiver of emotion in my chest.

Plato’s Cave was back to her former glory.

I even had the glass-walled dividers back. Now, I just needed to get my customers to splash on some signatures and quotes. The smell of incense filled the space, and monks could be heard murmuring prayers and chants throughout the store, perfecting the Feng Shui of the place. There had been a lot of chaos in the store over the last year, not even counting the destruction of the building by the Nephilim and Angels. The space had been tainted by various creatures paying me visits, and it had taken a team of monks – the same group that had originally sanctified my store – many months to rectify. I felt a distant thrum of peace vibrating through my core. A calming, persistent sense of joy and tranquility. It was perfect.

The monks were now carefully meditating as they walked through the building, floorboard by floorboard, to bless the space per my desires. I wanted my shop to be a safe haven for Freaks and Regulars alike. Those savvy to the supernatural scene, and also those who weren’t. I catered to anyone looking for a spot to relax and read, game, or grab a cup of coffee. Everyone needed a place to gather their thoughts. And oftentimes, we supernaturals needed a space where we could pretend the world didn’t hate or fear us. Not that we were officially real or anything, but enough people had seen video footage of unexplainable events – magic – and were very vocal about it being demonic or evil. Oftentimes, all they needed was a minute to catch their breath, and maybe even let their freak flag fly if the clientele were of their ilk that particular day.

Even though no one believed our powers were real, they still found ways to subconsciously wield hatred against us outcasts.

Plato’s Cave would fix that.

Indie studied the space with a thoughtful smile, but also a wistful one. Ever since her ordeal – becoming a Grimm – she couldn’t spend time around supernaturals. She had no control, and frequently hulked out, transformed, or grew instinctively aggressive when any freak came within striking distance. It was in her blood now. Or in the amulet that kept her alive, at least. She had the instinctual need to hunt down freaks. And her body was wired to do that by duplicating the power of whatever freak squared off against her. Problem was, no one was squaring off against her, but she was still reflexively hulking out to do battle anytime she got a whiff of freak. Child, grandmother, or college kid. Didn’t matter.

And, of course, they reacted right back.

After all, Grimms were the bane of our existence. Our very own Boogeymen.

It was like lighting a match while pumping gas.

So, she couldn’t be around us Freaks.

Which meant she couldn’t manage my store.

Which bothered her to no end. She was the woman behind the past success of the store, and so, constantly berated Alucard’s mismanagement at every opportunity. It wasn’t his fault. She would have done the same to me. It wasn’t that we were doing it wrong.

It was that she wasn’t managing it.

I understood that. And sympathized. But I couldn’t have brawls breaking out five times a day. Especially when I was trying to market it as a safe haven for freaks. Not even counting the regulars who suddenly saw fights straight out of a Harry Potter flick jump right into the aisle next to them.

Still, accommodating Alucard hadn’t been a simple task either.

You know, because he was a vampire.

And the store was open during the day…

Queue the installment of UV tinted windows.

A designated section for anything even remotely related to religious artifacts.

And a crew of employees who had to handle every single customer interaction.

Because, well, he was a vampire.

And he fed off mortal blood. Which meant that he worked at a constant buffet table where the customers were the food.

For the thousandth time, I contemplated hiring a new manager.

Then Alucard walked in, the drone from earlier clutched in his fist, forgotten. It must have been sitting outside the door from when I had sent it home. The vampire’s face was a thundercloud seeking to send a bolt of lightning down on me after my prank. But the rage suddenly washed away like a doused fire as he took in the vibe from the store, and the look of pride that split his cheeks into a grin was bright enough to give even my evil heart a little flutter of emotion.

Home, the look said. Without really looking, he took a few steps inside, and set the drone down beside a potted plant, eyes studying the store proudly. He caught my look and glanced down at the drone. “Looks like it got clipped by something. An arrow maybe?” I nodded, hoping it hadn’t been damaged too badly. It was my last one.

After the Grimm ordeal, he had been labeled an associate of mine, which didn’t fly well with his fellow vampires who had been contracted to take me out. Vampires and Wizards were not friends. Regardless of the fact that I was, technically, no longer a wizard. Semantics. I used magic of some flavor, so for all intents and purposes, I was still a wizard. An enemy.

Which meant Alucard was now an outcast. And since he had literally saved our bacon on a handful of occurrences, and chosen my side over his own people, I felt like I owed him.

But…

He couldn’t even check the mail! All thanks to my former employee, Greta, wanting to save my soul from the devil’s clutches. She had received a pile of money for being a loyal employee of Temple Industries before everything went to hell. I felt I had owed her too, and look what it got me. A daily reminder that I needed the Almighty’s assistance.

But I doubted He would knowingly reach out to lend me a hand. I wasn’t the best kind of guy. Hell, I wasn’t even a good guy. At least I didn’t feel like I warranted that title. I had even gone head to halo with a few of His Angels, and I knew exactly what they thought of me. So, no. I doubted I would be welcomed into His house with open arms anytime soon.

Which was fine. I would simply stick to helping those I could, and hope that He understood my intentions, if not my methods.

“Incoming,” Indie murmured, eyes squinting in preparation as she delved into a calm meditative state to hopefully prevent any outbursts of her power. I quickly slung my satchel off into the depths of the store, using my power as a Maker to shield it from detection. “I’m going to the back of the-”

“No one go nowhere,” a demanding voice boomed as my door was kicked open, limning three figures standing outside in the rain.

Chapter 6

Alucard murmured, “Well, that’s not confusing,” making me smile briefly.

Thankfully, the ogres didn’t hear him. They were each easily seven feet tall. And their faces were grotesquely misshapen things, full of old scar tissue, like a toad who had stepped out of a life in the boxing ring. One of them was entirely clean shaven, and another one was a mass of hair, his wild locks and beard connecting on his neck so that he looked to be sporting a mane. The leader sported a gold hooped earring as big as his bulbous nose, and was bald-headed with a short thick beard. He flexed his fists, each the size of a toaster, emitting deep popping sounds under his flesh.

They strode inside on size nineteen boots as I placed a calming hand on Indie’s wrist, sending a bit of my power into her to calm her racing heart. She took a breath and nodded before pulling away. She continued to take measured breaths, careful to keep as much distance as possible from the ogres.

“So, you guys ready to make a deal?” I asked politely.

Alucard paced quietly off to the side, eyeing the guests as he coldly motioned towards a set of couches that were possibly large enough to hold the ogres. If they used one each. No share-sies.

“Why so wet, little fang?” The leader growled in a baritone.

Alucard bristled. “Because it’s raining outside, Shrek.”

I cleared my throat at the two of them before either did something stupid. I didn’t want the ogres getting too close to us. Who knew what kind of senses they had. Despite my illusion spell, perhaps they could scent us with their wild Fae magic. I had attempted to remove all sensory evidence of our presence at their warehouse, but you never knew. Also, I wasn’t as skilled with my new powers as I had been as a wizard.

So, this was a pretty big risk. But a necessary one. I thought. I hoped.

“You bring the book?” I asked, leaning against a bookshelf near the couches. One of the ogres was sniffing the air curiously with a frown on his face. He grunted once and the leader looked at him sharply.

I snapped my fingers. “Hey, ugly. I asked you a question. I don’t like sharing a room with you any more than I like hanging out in a Port-a-Potty. Let’s conclude this transaction. I have the money. Do you have the book?”

The lead ogre glared back for a beat. “What’s yer interest in book?”

“That’s none of your business. We had a deal. Are you reneging? A fairy?” I added, knowing that fairies could not break their word when spoken outright. It crippled their powers.

He scowled, chewing over his words. “No. No deal break. New party want book bad.”

I straightened, feigning indignation. “No. We had a deal. I don’t care if you got a better offer.”

He growled, pointing at his hairy ear. “If Grug hear better offer, Grug listen. Tell wizard first. Wizard get last chance to counter.” I scowled back.

I nodded. “First right of refusal,” I clarified. Grug nodded. “So, what’s the new price?”

He watched me. Intently. His shoulders rolled forward. And his compatriot kept on sniffing the air, seeming very interested in something. Alucard’s shoulders hunched in anticipation of a fight. Indie was breathing heavily from the back of the room.

“No new price. Book… stolen,” he growled darkly. “Tonight.”

I relaxed, but kept my frown. “So, get it back. Your problem does not constitute my problem,” I warned.

“Two thieves. Nephilim. Flee with book.” The sniffing ogre’s interest drifted towards the front door where I caught sight of the drone peeking out from behind the potted plant. Shit. The ogre took a step closer, still not seeing it, but not even trying to pretend he was doing anything but sniffing.

The lead ogre glanced at his fellow and a dark grin split his scarred features. “What wizard hiding?”

“Nothing,” I answered, heart hammering in my chest. I could always make up a story about the drone. I wasn’t even sure how they had sensed it. Perhaps it was from the arrow nicking it.

He took a step forward. “Swear on power…” It wasn’t a question, but a command.

I swallowed and prepared to fight.

Someone cleared his throat from the staircase that led up to the loft, and everyone turned to find a stout little Tibetan man smiling at us. He was about five feet tall with pudgy cheeks, and the wisp of a weak goatee was the only hair on his head. He held his hands in his wide sleeves and spoke with that stupid grin still on his face as he descended the stairs to our level. Everyone froze for a minute.

“Your existence is abomination to whole world,” he said jovially, broken English and all, as he strode forward with a friendly smile still directed at the ogres.

The lead ogre threw off his cloak, revealing a massive muscular torso as he flexed his knuckles again in hungry anticipation. “Chinese food…” he growled, stepping forward, the wooden floor creaking alarmingly underneath his elephantine weight.

Indie began to shake violently, as she struggled against the tension in the room. She was about to hulk out. And I was about to have a dead monk in my store.

Shit.

And I had scheduled my hard launch grand opening for Plato’s Cave in the morning.

Chapter 7

The ogre pounded towards the tiny man, shattering and splintering my new wooden floor as well as several of my recently restored glass-walled dividers on his rampage. God damn it.

The ogre lifted his kitchen-appliance-sized fist over his thick head, and then brought it down towards the little monk standing calmly before him. The tiny man never stopped grinning.

The fist came within twelve inches of the monk’s face…

And a sphere of golden light flared into a perfect bubble around the monk’s body. It was blinding, but there was no explosion like I had expected at the sudden surge of power. Instead, the ogre’s hand disintegrated into golden motes of sparkling matter like a glitter bomb had gone off, and his pained howl shattered one of my new windows. Where his arm had bisected the light was now merely a stump of steaming flesh.

The monk’s goatee may have shifted a bit – just a tiny bit – in the breeze, but otherwise he didn’t move a millimeter. Even his smile still seemed genuine rather than smug. In fact, it almost appeared saddened at the result of causing pain.

“You are no Yeti,” he said in a calm voice. The ogre’s stump smoked where it had been instantly cauterized, and he whimpered deeply in very real, very severe pain as he knelt, head down on the floor of my shop. As if he had never imagined possible the level of pain just inflicted on him.

Then the hundred-pound monk casually touched the top of the ogre’s head.

And the two-thousand-pound fairy tale monster flew out the broken window before striking a lamppost, knocking it down into the street and eliciting a screech of tires as a public transit bus slammed on its brakes to avoid an accident. The ogre dissipated into a cloud of more golden sparkles, and then was gone. The monk merely looked at the other two ogres.

The two shared a look and instantly bolted out the door faster than I would have thought possible. The monk studied the wreckage with a slight frown of displeasure before meeting my astounded gaze. “Don’t worry. We fix.” Then he calmly lifted his robes as he stepped outside through the broken window to assist with the mess. The rain struck the dome surrounding the monk and rolled off, leaving him entirely dry.

The bus driver was shouting and pointing animatedly at my shop and the broken lamppost, but then the monk neared him and said a few words. The bus driver stopped shouting, looking bewildered for a moment. Then, one by one he gestured the passengers out of the bus and towards the tiny monk. They came out angry, terrified, and shaken. A few words from the monk and they were all smiles, shrugging their shoulders in relief that they were alright, and then they were on their way.

And none of them got wet from the downpour of rain.

What the hell?

The monk had juice!

I glanced over to find that Indie was passed out on the ground and Alucard was kneeling over her, looking alarmed. I raced to her side. “What happened?” I demanded, touching her face and checking for a pulse. It was there, but slow.

Alucard shrugged. “I have no idea. As soon as the monk did his happiness ball she blacked out.”

“She okay. She sleep. I calm her anxiety.” The monk murmured from over my shoulder. I flinched in surprise as Alucard flew back with a startled hiss.

I took a steadying breath. “She’s okay?”

He nodded, holding out a hand as if asking my permission to approach her. I nodded stiffly and the monk knelt over her, staring through her navel, her temples, and then her chest.

Chakras. He was studying her Chakras. In only a few seconds.

He touched her with one finger just above her heart and her eyes shot open. She blinked a few times and then stretched lazily, sheer contentment on her face. The monk nodded, smiled, then stood, taking a few steps back.

Alucard muttered in disbelief. “Just like that? You must be a fair friend to the ladies.”

“No ladies. Just Buddha,” he answered very literally, eyes still studying Indie. Then he blinked, glancing up at Alucard. “Oh, I see. I touch. She smile.” He chuckled. “Yes, fair friend to all, even abomination.” He smiled politely, despite the word used to address Alucard.

“Abomination!” Alucard growled.

The monk nodded, not catching his tone, and then addressed me. “We make fix. Tonight. No worry. Extra fix for abomination. He taint store.” He nodded several times in rapid succession, shot a quick happy wave at Indie (who blushed), and then folded his arms back into his sleeves before walking into the back of the store.

“I am not an abomination,” Alucard argued, loud enough for all to hear. “I’m one of the good guys.”

“Well, technically…” I began.

“Shut it, Temple,” he warned, eyes smoldering.

“Well, you are vegan now, so maybe you have a point,” I said. “How’s that going, by the way?”

“I’m hungry. Starving in fact, Little Brother.” I waited. He rolled his eyes. “I’m still on the bandwagon. Don’t worry.”

“Glad to hear it. We’ll figure something out,” I offered. Alucard had been off human blood for a few days now, sustained only by a black-market blood bank designed especially for vampires. But that source was rapidly drying up, meaning that the sellers were steadily increasing the price now that they had him by the short hairs. We needed a better solution.

“What happened?” Indie asked softly, nervously staring about at the wreckage. “Where did the ogres go?” her eyes widened. “Did I…” I shook my head quickly.

“No, you didn’t do anything. The monk did. Then he Zen’d your ass. He’s apparently the Grimm whisperer,” I said, still awed at the raw power he had displayed. Both in subduing Indie and the ogres.

I helped her to her feet. “How do you feel?”

She stretched again, rolled her shoulders, and her eyes even seemed to shine with a smile. They were a little dark underneath, like she needed some rest, but that was understandable. She’d had a long night. “Better. So. Much. Better.” She looked at peace for the first time in weeks.

The door banged open and a voice rolled in. “I’m definitely framing that picture you just texted me, Nate,” the voice chuckled. “I hope you have something to drink.” Gunnar and Ashley stood in the doorway. Gunnar was a specimen of a man, a true Viking, only further emphasized by his now collar-length bushy beard and the long blonde hair tied up in a top-knot, the sides shaved. Also, the whole one-eye thing. His remaining eye was a glittering, glacial blue, but the other socket was simply sewn closed, now healed to reveal a soft patch of flesh. Three claw marks divided the empty eye socket and eyebrow into thirds.

And it was my fault he had lost it.

He was now the Alpha of the local werewolves, and his fiancé was a freshly-minted werewolf, still working on controlling her new lifestyle.

“He said eye,” Alucard chuckled, slapping his knees as Gunnar entered the store, Ashley hot on his heels. I smiled at my friend and saw an abrupt look of alarm paint his face. I flinched, spinning on a heel to protect my back from whatever he had seen coming at me.

But it was just Indie. Her eyes smoldered with smoky blackness, and she exploded into werewolf form, clothes erupting like confetti as she hunkered low. Her tawny brown fur bristled up her back like a Mohawk, as she growled menacingly at Ashley.

I held out a hand, trying to calm her, and heard another explosion of fabric as Ashley also burst into wolf form, black hair like midnight bristling in challenge as she was also unable to control her newfound power at the initiation of a sudden threat. Gunnar was shouting something at her as he took two racing steps forward to try and get between the two, but neither woman was listening. Ashley snarled lower, throatier than Indie, and there wasn’t a hint of warning as the two female werewolves suddenly launched themselves at each other’s throats, Ashley deftly darting around Gunnar’s outstretched arms.

And I stood directly between them.

This just wasn’t my day.

Chapter 8

I dove to the side, preparing to cast up a solid wall of air between the two where I had been standing, but I was too slow. Ashley met Indie in a violent snarl of fang and claw.

Indie ducked her head low to gnash at Ashley’s hind leg, and Ashley let out a yelp before jerking her leg free and biting down hard on the ruff of Indie’s neck. Indie fell to the ground, rolled out of the grip, and kicked Ashley into another of my glass-walled dividers, shattering it. Then she hunkered low to tear after her adversary. Gunnar’s arms flashed to white furred claws as he reached my side, ready to fling himself directly into the fight and tug them apart. Now that they were separated, I had a chance to throw up some magic between them, give Gunnar a chance as Ashley’s Alpha to calm her down. Then a sick thought struck me. I held out a hand for Gunnar to shift back. “Don’t. If you shift I don’t know what Indie will do, but she’ll be even further beyond reason if she thinks she’s against two werewolves.”

Gunnar growled unhappily. “Do something. They’re going to kill each other.”

“On it.” I turned back to find the two wolves circling each other warily, and flung up my hand to release the spell and stop the girls from killing each other.

But the strangest thing happened as I released my magic.

The little monk was suddenly standing there, face calm as he accepted his fate of getting mauled from two different directions. He flicked a dismissive hand my way and my magic disintegrated into a shower of harmless sparks. My mouth fell open in disbelief, but then I saw the hungry look in each of the werewolves’ eyes as they saw a sudden new threat. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. And wolves loved to work in packs. They would team up to take out the threat, and then resume their feud.

In a coughing snarl, both wolves threw themselves toward the monk.

He moved in a very deliberate, simple Tai Chi-looking move to avoid the claws coming at his face. His hands effortlessly dodged the fangs and claws before briefly touching each woman on the throat with a gentle tap. But I knew the physical force of their charge would break his fingers in a millisecond.

But that’s not how it played out.

The two wolves slowed as if striking a pool of water, and… then they were no longer wolves. They landed lightly on their two feet, faces utterly calm and tranquil, and hands resting at their sides. Their eyes were distant, as if just having woken up from a long nap in the sun. They smiled down at the man, who nodded back, lowered his arms, and sighed. He noticed their obvious nudity and seemed abruptly uncomfortable.

Alucard, on the other hand, let out a long whistle of appreciation.

Gunnar growled in warning and Alucard sighed, holding up his arms innocently. “Just appreciating beauty.”

“I can come back at another time if that is more appropriate…” A voice called from the doorway.

The three menfolk whirled in surprise, werewolf, wizard, and vampire, all sporting our various weapons of choice. Gunnar’s white-furred claws shot out in an audible snakt, Alucard’s fingers elongated into claws as his fangs popped out with a vocal snarl, and twin whips of fire and ice lashed into existence from my hands, scoring the wood in permafrost and embers, shattering yet another of my priceless glass-walled dividers.

A plain-clothed man in a simple navy blue suit, with a closed black umbrella stood in the doorway, staring at the overwhelming threat in the three of us, and pointedly averting his eyes from the stunning naked women standing beside the monk, whom had his hands resting on their shoulders, a faint golden glow surrounding them as he calmed their instinctive urge to shift.

I sighed in frustration, snapping the whips back out of existence as I glanced at the destroyed dividers. Gunnar and Alucard also relaxed in a heartbeat, as if nothing had happened.

“Just a second,” I held up a hand to the newcomer and turned back to the monk.

“Can you get them into some clothes and out of sight?” He nodded. “And get your brothers to Feng Shui-ing this place again?” He lowered his head with a small smile and nodded again before leading the girls away. I turned back to the suit. “Okay. I’ve got a minute to talk.”

The man looked incredibly nervous as Gunnar strode towards him, extending a muscled arm. He was practically shaking until he realized Gunnar was merely offering to escort him to the sofa. He complied, and Alucard was suddenly there with a steaming cup of tea, no doubt brewed by the monks earlier. The man extended a shaky hand to accept the cup and sat down.

I sat down in the chair opposite him and studied him, having completely forgotten about my second meeting. The buyer for the book Indie had been trying to purchase at the auction.

“So, how are you?” I asked, flashing a smile. Gunnar and Alucard towered behind him, smiles cold and wary. The man’s hand rattled as he set the cup onto the table.

“I… I’m here about our meeting. The…” he wiped his brow nervously, flinching as Gunnar folded his beefy arms. “The book you promised to acquire.”

I nodded. “Yeah, about that…” Alucard merely shook his head, turning to me with an arched eyebrow as if to ask how much I wanted to share with the shaking suit.

I had no idea.

Chapter 9

I drummed my fingers across my knee thoughtfully. “Okay. I found your book-”

“My client’s book,” the man interrupted softly. “Not mine.”

I squinted back. “Right. Your client’s book,” I corrected. “But someone stole it before I could get it.” He frowned, but didn’t speak. Alucard and Gunnar left to talk in private near the coffee bar. “But I will get it back,” I said.

The man, more confident now that my friends were no longer standing behind him, shook his head in disappointment. “My client will not appreciate that news,” he finally said, climbing to his feet. He took a slow, measured look around the store. “Last time I was here the store was in better repair,” he commented. He finally turned back to me. “Should my client be worried that you are perhaps otherwise preoccupied with…” he waved a hand at the store, “Other duties?”

“No. I’ll get it.” The man watched me, not offensive or upset, merely matter-of-fact. He nodded. I stood and held out my hand for him to shake. He stared at it nervously, remembering the whips of power I had briefly used, but then shook it with a firm, clammy grip.

“My client will be glad to hear that.”

“I will call when I have it in my possession.”

He nodded. “Let’s make that sooner rather than later. My client is rather… impatient to retrieve his book.”

I frowned. “How did he lose it in the first place?”

The man watched me for a beat, debating how much to answer. “I am not privy to such information.” He was sweating, and I was pretty sure it was from nerves, not the temperature or rain outside.

“Kind of makes me wonder who your client is…”

The man flinched. “That is not part of his agreement with you. I am merely a proxy. His agent.” He opened his mouth as if to speak further, then thought better of it. “I will pass along your story and let you know if he has any further requests regarding the matter.”

I didn’t like the tone, but it was obvious to me that this man was literally just a mouthpiece. He wasn’t personally threatening me, and he was very literally terrified. Both at his master’s displeasure, and at mine. He was just the messenger, but I still wanted to throttle him.

It had been a long night.

And I had nothing to show for it. Well, almost nothing. I had swiped up the book from the ogres without incident, thanks to the monk’s assistance.

Regardless, I still needed to wash off any trace of our visit to the ogre’s stronghold. Get rid of the blood on my cane, repair or throw away the drone, and burn our clothes. Just in case. I also wanted to be sure that the book was properly warded so they wouldn’t be able to track it.

I realized I had lost focus with my thoughts, and the man was curiously, innocently walking through my bookstore, glancing at covers, touching the shelves, and picking up an item or two. No malice or shady intent, just window shopping. It made me feel good. This guy who seemingly had no interest in my type of merchandise enjoyed it enough to branch out a bit and shop my wares. Also, Gunnar and Alucard discreetly tracked him with predatory eyes as they conversed lightly, of which I’m sure the man was unaware. Gunnar was a bit more obvious now that he only had one eye. He merely situated himself so that he was casually leaning back into his chair so that the man’s movement was always in his line of sight. Alucard seemed to be relying on his hearing for the most part. Turning his head every now and again to verify the man hadn’t done anything sneaky.

But he was a paper-pusher. I had traded grips with him, and although I caught a faint trace of magic about him, it was nothing dangerous. Just another supernatural, hiding behind an expensive suit and no doubt, ignoring his abilities. I seemed to meet people like him more often now. They had an innate spark of something, but refused to believe it or act upon it. Or, perhaps they genuinely had no idea of their abilities. Maybe I would ask him about it. After our deal was concluded.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked, standing directly behind him now. He flinched and flashed a guilty grin at me.

“No, thank you. Just looking. Mighty interesting assortment you have here. I’ve never shopped in a place quite like this.”

I smiled. “I’m sure you haven’t.” I placed my hand on his shoulder, which made him tense up. “I’ll be in contact with you. I apologize for the inconvenience. I wasn’t too pleased myself at the situation. But I never break my word. If it can be gotten, I’ll be a getting it.”

“Please don’t try to speak like a layman. It doesn’t suit one with your breeding,” he laughed for the first time.

I nodded and he left the store, closing the door softly behind him as he popped up his collar and unfurled his umbrella.

“Wait, he got it on camera?” Alucard roared, staring at Gunnar’s phone.

But Gunnar was too busy laughing in Alucard’s face. “A flyer!” he exclaimed. “I never would have fallen for such a thing!” He slapped Alucard’s shoulder in amusement, and pulled him close conspiratorially, flashing me a grin. “The thing about working with Nate is that you always need to be on your toes.” Alucard was nodding, mentally taking notes. I rolled my eyes and went to get drinks and find the girls.

Chapter 10

“So, the book was a total bust,” Gunnar murmured. Ashley was curled up against him with a cup of steaming tea in her hands, tiny in comparison to the Alpha. Her eyes tracked everything now, and she no longer needed to wear her glasses. Her hand constantly reached to adjust them on her nose before she stopped herself with a smile at the old habit.

“Yeah,” Indie answered. She sat on the fur rug, nestled firmly between my feet as she leaned against me. Her hands also engulfed a large steaming cup of tea. The monk had prepared it especially for her and Ashley. Some kind of soothing herb. The smell was pungent, but not dissatisfying. I couldn’t place it. “I don’t know what happened, though. One moment the item came up for bidding, and the next thing I know I was waking up and everyone around me was dead. The empty case lay at my feet.”

Gunnar stroked his gnarly beard thoughtfully. He looked like one of those Cross-fit guys, or an ex-biker. Still professional, but seeming to ooze more testosterone than every other man in the room combined. It made me mildly jealous. Wizards were supposed to have glorious, epic, impenetrable beards, damn it.

But all I could manage was a decent scruff. I was scratching at my growth as I thought this.

Gunnar pointed a meaty hand at me as if advising a pupil. “Maybe when you grow up you can grow something like this too, Nate. Don’t worry. Puberty won’t last forever.”

“Gee, thanks, Teen Wolf.” His single eye glittered at me like a floating iceberg as he smiled.

“You really should have taken me with you tonight. I might have found something at the scene,” he offered.

I rolled my eyes. “You were busy, remember?” I used air quotes while I said it. He frowned, nodding distantly as his eye flashed to the top of Ashley’s head. “It’s not a big deal. We also had no idea we would need a forensic team tonight. Just a simple smash and gra-”

Gunnar sat up straight. “I’m sorry. That sounded awfully similar to a crime,” he warned. “You didn’t say anything about a crime when you called me this morning begging for my help.”

“Wait, begged?” Alucard belted out. “I told you I could go with you yesterday. You called Cyclops here to ask for help?”

Gunnar chuckled and even Ashley smiled. I held out a placating hand for Alucard. “Nothing against you, Alucard. I’m just more familiar working with Gunnar. And I thought his goody-two-shoes nature might fit in better with our disguise.” Alucard merely scowled back, hurt.

“I’m going to go get another drink,” he grumbled, getting to his feet and storming away.

Gunnar watched him, eye twinkling with amusement. “Touchy, touchy. That won’t work in a Temple relationship,” he whispered to Ashley. She grinned at his words, nodding as she lay her head on his chest, eyes heavy. Both girls seemed in a mellow trance after their talk with the monk. I really wanted to take some notes from him on how his power worked. It was incredible. I had never heard of such a thing as nullifying power upon contact.

“So, here’s the story…” I told them everything. About the book, the auction, the ogres, and ultimately stealing their book.

There was a pause as Gunnar and Ashley processed my words. “What’s this thing with the ogres? I thought you were going to buy the book from them?”

“Yeah, tell them about your brilliant plan, Little Brother,” Alucard teased.

I scowled at him. “Competition. Like it, I don’t,” I said in my best Yoda impersonation.

“Competition?” Gunnar asked, softly stroking Ashley’s hair. Her eyes were now closed.

“Some chump has been swiping up things I’m trying to buy before I can get to them. Nothing big, but it’s damn annoying. I don’t know if this guy was after the ogre’s book, but I didn’t want to chance it. The book is a personal acquisition I’ve been meaning to get for quite some time now. A bucket-list book, so to speak.”

The room was silent for a few beats. “Well, what was it?” Gunnar finally asked.

I shrugged. “Just a personal interest. Nothing dangerous,” I answered. Gunnar’s eye tightened, knowing me too well, but he didn’t press.

“So, you stole it from them… I imagine that went over well…” He grinned. “Anything to do with the lamp post outside?”

I nodded. “They weren’t pleased.” I glanced back as I heard faint murmurs of chanting from the back of my store. “That monk kicks serious ass. You should have seen it when the ogre tried to smash him like a bug.” I shook my head. “Unbelievable.”

Gunnar glanced at Indie, who was nestled up tightly against me. He smiled, nodding at me to take a peek. I carefully did so and realized both girls were out like a light. Gunnar slowly began shifting so that Ashley could sleep on the couch by herself. He draped a blanket over her after placing her empty teacup on the floor as I gently lifted Indie. I tucked her into the chair, kissed her forehead, and swiped up the teacup. I set it silently on the counter of the coffee bar, and Gunnar and I headed upstairs behind Alucard to the loft, now the vampire’s living quarters.

We settled down in my trusty old chairs and chatted for a few minutes about nothing in particular. “Alucard, I say this with all due respect…” Gunnar began, “But you suck very badly at running Plato’s Cave. Why don’t you find something… safer to do?” He asked.

By this time, Alucard wasn’t even offended by the comment. “I know. I can’t check the mail thanks to Nate’s old secretary trying to kill me with her religious pamphlets, I can’t touch half the merchandise since it’s spiritual to one degree or another, Nate had to put in tinted windows so I could even walk around, and the clientele is like an army of steaks walking in front of me. And my boss has me on a no red meat diet.” Then he laughed, shaking his head at how ridiculous it all was.

I nodded, but didn’t say anything at first. “I appreciate you trying. Being a manager isn’t really that hard. Delegate everything. Maybe just stay on top of the requests for my acquisition gigs and let someone else handle the actual store,” I offered.

“What does that entail?”

“Any special requests that come in go through you. You and I head out to get the whatsit, you contact the buyer to set up the exchange. Also, you weed out anything that seems… iffy.”

“Iffy?”

“Yeah. If someone wants a book that summons Lucifer or something, that would probably fall into the danger zone on the iffy scale,” I smiled. Alucard rolled his eyes. “Look, you’re up to snuff on the supernatural scene. You have good intuitions, and you can probably tell when people are lying. Increased pulse or something, right?” He nodded, flashing me a look of surprise. I grinned back. “Then just probe a bit when you get a request. If it seems off, let me know. Maybe we need to decline, but perhaps we would still want to acquire the book for safekeeping. Make sure the nefarious buyer doesn’t acquire it some other way.”

“Like your competitor…” Gunnar murmured.

I frowned. “Yeah… like that schmuck.”

“So, what’s the story on this book?”

I shrugged. “The suit came in a few days ago. Hired me to buy a book at auction. I don’t know why he didn’t just do it himself and save his client the fee.”

“Gee, maybe it’s because of your impressive, throbbing, jealousy-inducing…” he let the silence build, as well as my smile at the innuendo, “Paddle.”

“What?”

“The number on your paddle is ‘1.’ As in, one of your ancestors was the first member of the auction house.”

“Ah,” I nodded. “Could be, but I sent Indie.”

Gunnar shrugged. “She used your paddle, right? As your proxy?” I nodded. He motioned his hands in a there you go gesture.

“I guess,” I answered, unconvinced.

“People don’t like to go against that number. Saw it all the time as an Agent,” Gunnar said softly. Which was probably true. He was no longer an FBI Agent. Pretty much because of me. I knew it still bothered him, but less so now that he was running his own werewolf pack. Gunnar took my silence for needing an explanation. “A lot of people with a number like yours, hold grudges when other bidders beat them on something. The lower the number, typically the deeper the pockets. You upset or outbid them at your own peril. It’s actually a pretty smart move on the buyer’s part. Maybe your fee was less than the competition increase he feared.”

“For some book? I doubt it.” Gunnar waited, letting me get there by myself. “Although…” His smile grew. “With the recent events, it’s pretty obvious that someone else was willing to go to pretty extreme lengths to get the book before Indie could win the bid.” Gunnar nodded once. Alucard looked pensive, watching the two of us.

“So. What is the book, really? And who is your real client? And who else might want whatever the book was?” Gunnar grew thoughtful, calculating. “Perhaps it was your competitor?”

I flinched. “You think?” It was entirely possible, depending on what the book truly was. Maybe at the same time I thought I was being clever by stealing the ogre’s book, he thought he was being equally clever by stealing the book from the auction. This ass hat needed to be shut down.

Alucard hissed. Gunnar suddenly turned on beast mode as he shifted into a werewolf.

And a greasy sensation suddenly slithered down my spine.

A voice like a kind old grandmother called out from below. “Give me the book or I will gobble up your women,” she called out in a no-nonsense, Russian accent. Gunnar and Alucard beat me to the stairs, but not by much.

Chapter 11

A genuinely ancient old woman stood near the couches, but Ashley and Indie slept on like the dead. What had been in that tea? I opened my mouth to call out to the monks, hoping they could Zen the bitch out of here, but a steel vise suddenly clamped around my jaws as the same slithering dark power I had felt a moment ago, crept over my shoulders.

Which could only mean one thing.

She was a witch.

The woman waggled a decrepit finger at me. “Ah, ah, ah…” she murmured. The pressure instantly evaporated, which was a surprise. She had us dead to rights, standing directly beside our women, who were completely unaware of the situation as they slept.

I studied her. She was draped in a long, thick dress, the color of old mustard, and she wore a bright shawl around her head like a hood, tied neatly in a pretty knot beneath her throat. And she was smiling politely, not wickedly, revealing a set of iron teeth beneath a hideous bulbous nose.

She watched us. We watched her. Gunnar and Alucard stood on the tips of their toes. Gunnar looked like a giant arctic mountain wolf, and thankfully, he wasn’t wearing his Underdog undies. But he was wearing the Kevlar vest I had made for him that adjusted on the fly so that he was literally a bulletproof werewolf.

If this witch bothered with bullets, that would be helpful.

But I had never heard of witches sporting Uzis.

She tapped her weathered lips thoughtfully. “I prefer that this doesn’t get messy,” she finally said with a frown. “I don’t suppose you would be willing to simply give me the book?” Her tone reminded me again of an aged grandmother offering sensible advice to a younger child. As if the child would have to be an idiot not to trust the grandmother. I didn’t know if she was using magic to sound so condescending and reasonable, or if it was simply her years of experience. I shook my head, deciding not to simply tell her that I didn’t have the book. I needed answers, and admitting I didn’t have the item would get me none.

She dipped her head sadly, glanced at the women sleeping soundly, and then turned back to us. “If you throw a temper tantrum, I can assure you they will die. Likely you three as well.” Gunnar mimicked my growl. She held up a hand, and Gunnar instantly silenced, whether of his own volition or her power, I didn’t know. But he did look startled, so I was leaning towards the latter. “Or…” she glanced up at the loft above. “You could treat me as a guest, honoring the traditions of my people.”

“Sorry, I’m fresh out of chickens to slaughter. No demons to summon either, witch.”

She smiled good-naturedly. “I was referring to my heritage as a Russian.”

I blinked, taken aback, getting a sinking feeling that I suddenly knew exactly who she was. “You want to… break bread?” I said in disbelief.

“Well, more the vodka tradition, but if you have bread, that would be splendid as well.”

I simply stared back. What the hell was going on? She wanted to pound shots with me? After threatening Indie and Ashley? My mind raced as I contemplated my options. She was right. A fight would indeed get some of us killed. I knew next to nothing about witches, but the one thing I did know was that they had zero compassion for collateral damage, and statistically went for the worst end of the evil spectrum and worked their way backwards. They played for keeps. And used dark magic to do it. Simply put, she was being utterly honest when she said we wouldn’t all make it out alive.

Now, I was considered a badass among my peers. Hell, I had thumbed my nose at some of the baddest of the bad and walked away, more or less. But I didn’t know enough about witches to take a gamble with my friends’ lives.

“What guarantee do I have that you won’t harm my friends anyway?”

She smiled a matronly, condescending grin. “My word.”

“Pfft. I don’t even know who you are.” She didn’t respond, merely stretched her smile wider as she waited. So, I voiced my guess. “Russian. Witch. Old…” She growled at that one. “Babushka…”

She waved a hand. “Go on, boy…”

“Baba… Yaga…” an icy shiver danced down my spine as her iron-toothed smile stretched.

She nodded, clapping her hands lightly together one time. “They say you can decipher a lot about a person based on their reputation. Their name.”

Gunnar and Alucard turned to stare at me with equal frowns. I nodded to them, then to her. “Perhaps I should ask this fine young woman for a drink…”

“Excellent choice, boy.” She arched a brow at me thoughtfully. “Many stories abound regarding your recent exploits. Grimms. Horsemen. The Academy…” She might have snarled at that one. “But one I didn’t believe until now was that you are a Maker…” She cocked her head, studying me like a science experiment. “We definitely must drink. And converse. Like old friends.” Her eyes twinkled with merriment.

But if I knew one thing it was this. Baba Yaga had no friends.

She ate children for crying out loud.

“Yes, let’s…” I held out a polite arm for her to grasp so that I could escort her upstairs. Her smile broadened. I might have flinched a little as her bony arm wrapped around my elbow. Gunnar and Alucard stared at me, poleaxed.

“You may take the women away. I have the young gentleman to attend to my desires now.” Her voice oozed with genuine glee, and I was terrified. “We should establish some ground rules…” I said politely.

She contemplated that for a few moments as I led her to the stairs. As her foot touched the first step, she spoke. “Peace betwixt us for the duration of our chat and for two hours after. In exchange for entertaining an old woman’s traditions.” She clucked her iron teeth. “I’ve made worse bargains.” Her eyes seemed to darken at a memory, but the follow up smile reminded me of the Crypt Keeper from that old TV show. I nodded, and hoped to God I had some good vodka upstairs as I heard Gunnar and Alucard take the girls to safety. I just hoped it wasn’t the last time I would see them.

Shit had just gotten real.

Chapter 12

“So, tell me about yourself, Nathaniel?” Baba cooed. She sat reclined in my Darlington Chesterfield, a half-open bottle of vodka between us. This was the first time she had asked me a direct question. The only other words had been, “Nostrovia. For health. For good fortune.” Big ones for toasts, the Russians. We had polished off half the bottle already and I was only now getting a sense of calm about my current situation. Here I was, going shot-for-shot with Baba Yaga, the dreaded Russian folklore villain. And nothing bad had happened yet. In all honesty, I had to admit that I was rather enjoying myself.

Sure, she had threatened to kill my friends, but that really wasn’t anything special to someone like her. It was just who she was. No more than she would have told anyone else if they had something she wanted. She hadn’t treated me any worse than anyone else who might have pissed her off. Baba was known in Russian folklore to either help or hinder travelers, and one never knew which would be the case, so it was always advised to be on your toes. But the stories of Baba Yaga were unique in that she had two sisters of the same name. I wondered which one I was dealing with.

But overall, despite the frightening stories, she was treating me very well.

The room spun a bit as I thought of her question. “I just want to be a good man.” I let out a hiccup, and blushed as I clutched a fist to my mouth. “Excuse me.”

She smiled back, seeming none the worse for wear. “Such excellent manners. Oh, how I do love gentlemen of breeding.” Her eyes grew distant as she lifted up her shot glass. “To courtly manners. And keeping them alive.” I nodded slowly, reaching for my shot glass. We downed them together, and leaned back. “A good man…” she murmured, eyes roving the room lazily. Alucard had redecorated it slightly, but – I blinked in embarrassment – as I realized the red silk thong from Indie’s first romantic encounter with me still hung from my desktop lamp. Baba’s gaze followed mine, and belted out a belly laugh as she clapped her hands. “A devious man more like it…” She winked and I couldn’t hide my grin. “So, what does being a good man mean to you?”

I shrugged. “It’s becoming more unclear as the years go by,” I answered honestly. She nodded at my perception. I tried to focus, but the liquor was hitting me harder than I had hoped. I hadn’t eaten in a while, and I was now regretting it. I definitely didn’t want to throw up on the old woman. She had declared a truce, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t hold up if I ruined the mood. I swallowed forcefully. Baba, of course, took that to mean that I must be thirsty, and she poured two more shots. The bottle was growing lighter at an alarming rate. I tried to postpone the drink with a drunken slurry of words that I hoped made sense.

“I started out wanting to keep my nose clean. Stay out of everyone’s business and simply run my bookstore. But…” She leaned forward as I paused “a small but persistent part of me simply won’t let some things go. If I see someone get hurt, I feel compelled to defend them, and to gain retribution for their harm. It’s a small fire burning hotly inside of me. So, as the years went by, I used my family’s influence to help me do this.”

“Temple Industries?” She murmured.

I nodded, mind wandering from the drink. That had been a shit show lately. The Grimms had used some pretty savvy corporate espionage to make it look like I had been performing insider trading with my own company. Grimm shifters who looked like me gave interviews, press conferences, and sold investments, which was hard to refute when I couldn’t simply tell everyone that magic was real, and that these people had been shapeshifting to impersonate me.

So, I had lost the company, barely escaped jail time, and was now in the legal battle of a lifetime trying to, at least, keep things as they currently stood. Me out of the company, and presumably, out of jail. Our lifelong attorney, Turner Locke, made sure to keep my mailbox full with piles upon piles of legal documents. He was determined to get me the company back, and having worked for my father for years, had plenty of neat ideas on how to do so. Some, I was actually attempting. With my long-time friend and hacker extraordinaire, Othello, hiding any breadcrumbs online.

Luckily, my father had cleverly patented several of the most lucrative technologies in his personal name, and had then leased those out in perpetuity to Temple Industries. So, I was still making money from the company. I had been forced to liquidate my substantial stock, and as a ‘get out of jail free’ card (or at least a temporary one), had donated it all to various charities and individuals who had stuck by me and the company over the years. So, for all intents and purposes, I was practically penniless. Well, not really. But compared to my upbringing, I was living on the streets.

In one fell swoop, the Grimms had basically destroyed my life.

Killed my fiancé – although Death, one of the Four Horsemen, and recent pal of mine – had managed to bring her back to me, at the expense of making her a Grimm.

Destroyed my company.

Murdered some of my friends.

But I had reciprocated. By killing them all.

Well, all but one. Ichabod still lurked in the shadows somewhere. We had been unable to find him, but I knew from certain events that he still hung around my city somewhere. I just hadn’t been able to find him yet.

The rest of the Grimms had been locked away in a dark void, thanks to one of my ancestors, many years ago. They were also trapped in a bubble of time, which I didn’t even want to think about, as it made my brain hurt.

So, effectively, I had shown them.

But at such a great cost.

I had only just managed to get the City to assist with designating my bookstore as a Historic Building, so that I could find the funds to restore it. It had been practically demolished in a tussle with some Nephilim a few months back, and was only now reaching the point where it had to pass one last inspection to open. I had basically tapped myself dry on the money front, so it was vital that the shop be ready for the inspection tomorrow.

Which meant I couldn’t sit here and continue to get plastered.

I turned back to Baba who was watching me thoughtfully. She smiled. “I thank you for treating me with such hospitality. And for speaking with me in my native tongue.”

I blinked back at her.

I must have had a dumb look on my face. “Yes, we have been speaking Russian. You are a bit rusty, but serviceable.”

I bowed my head in thanks. “So, what is your presence truly about, Baba? What is this book you seek, and why is it so important?” I might have slurred a bit more than usual. She began to pour two more shots and I had to stop myself from waving her off. It was considered unbelievably rude to pass on an offered drink. I just didn’t have an Iron Curtain lining my stomach like most Russians, and was pretty darn embarrassed that this old biddy was pounding shot after shot to no effect.

She offered me the shot, and we downed it. My head began to truly swim, and my stomach did an odd little flip-flop. Baba licked her lips in appreciation before answering. “It is a personal matter. A debt that must be rectified,” she answered cryptically.

“But what is it?” I leaned forward.

“Oh, I guess there is no harm in telling you. It is an artifact, naturally. Not simply a book. It has the ability to grant a wish.” I blinked. “Any wish…” she added. “And it would satisfy me if you offered it to me. Now.” She waited, watching the air around me for some reason.

I leaned back, thinking about her words. Well. That was surprising. No wonder she wanted it so badly, and no wonder my client did as well. And whoever had stolen it. “That could be…” I had to metaphorically slap my cheeks a few times to force my thoughts to congeal, “Pretty dangerous.”

Baba shrugged. “Danger, fortune, they are both sides of the same coin. One man’s curse is another man’s pleasure,” she smiled at me. “Now, I ask that you give it to me.”

I shrugged at her, face devoid of humor. “I don’t have it.” Her gaze hardened. “I swear. It was stolen before I could obtain it. Just tonight, in fact.”

“Who?” She demanded. I flinched at her shift in tone.

“I have no idea…”

“I sense it here, in this building. You are lying to your guest,” she warned.

I was growing more alarmed by the second, my fears fueling my panic. I didn’t know what she could do, but if she thought I was breaking my word, we were about to throw down, and I was now in no shape to fight. I could barely string a sentence together. “No, no. I swear. I have the case it rested in, but that is all.”

“What does the book look like?” She asked intently.

I frowned. Confused. If she knew what it was, why was she asking me what it looked like. “I… I have no idea. I haven’t physically seen it.”

She again watched the air around me so hard that I feared there might be something behind me. I had a sudden fear that a handful of gargoyles was about to attack. I glanced to the side and almost yelled out in fear to find two gargoyles perusing my bookshelf. I turned to Baba urgently, but she didn’t seem to notice them.

How freaking drunk was I?

“Curses!” she growled. “You don’t have it.”

“Umm… yeah. That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” I stammered. “Hey, do you happen to see, um, anything b-behind me?” I stammered.

She merely smiled back. “Why would there be anything behind you, boy. Are you afraid of something? Some monster from your past hiding in your bookstore? What could scare the infamous Master Temple? A Maker? Tell me… I’m dying to know…”

I opened my mouth to answer, and felt a sudden release of power deep inside my chest. I blinked at Baba, panting. But it hadn’t been her. My hand anxiously squeezed the silver headed eagle cane, but I sensed no power leaking from it. The gargoyles were arguing over a book behind me. “No, I haven’t read Through the Looking-Glass. Waste of time if you ask me… sequels never live up to the original,” one gargoyle snarled at the other. But I lost interest in their topic, let alone their presence in my shop, as the lights began to dim.

“What have you done, Baba?” I whispered, both angry, and terrified at whatever madhouse we were now in. Had she drugged me?

She grinned back. “I have done nothing. This is all you, Maker…”

I heard a horrible crowing sound from down below in the shop. And then a large crash. My pulse began to race. I had heard that sound before. But back then I had Gunnar with me. And we had barely been enough to handle it.

The demonic rooster horse from the Grimms’ prison. Baba began to laugh. “What have you done?” I hissed. “You swore to safe conduct. A truce!” I shouted.

She held up her hands. “I have done nothing, Maker. I swear it on my power. This Demon is all of your making…” She glanced pointedly at the now empty bottle of vodka before us, and I had a sudden chilling thought.

I felt power building downstairs, and left Baba in her chair as I stumbled out of the room to get a good look at my shop. Gunnar and Alucard stood on either side of a nine-foot-tall, demonic rooster horse, or what reminded me of the creature I had encountered years ago.

This one seemed bigger. Had more spikes and horns than the first one. Eyes of fire. And a terrifying cackle-like laughter bubbling from its beak. I flinched, tripped, and tumbled down the stairs as I saw Gunnar and Alucard dart in to kill the monster. My head cracked into a bannister, and my world abruptly zapped out like an old television turning off. Static filled my ears as I floated off into a sea of royal blue waves crashing relentlessly into each other by the forces of creation.

Baba’s laughter was the last thing I heard, like a ship’s horn on a foggy night at sea. Oh, and the sounds of battle, pain, and defeat from my friends… I was going to have a hell of a time convincing the inspector that Plato’s Cave was ready for business tomorrow morning.

Chapter 13

“What the hell did she do to him?” Indie asked.

“She didn’t do anything. I think he fell down the stairs,” Alucard whispered back. “Ow! Stop poking me, I’m fine. Look at Gunnar. He lost his friggin’ eye!”

“Ha. Ha,” he growled. “Hilarious.”

“So how did the Clydesdale from Hell get in the shop?” Indie pressed.

“I don’t know. One second we were sitting on the couch, waiting for Nate to wrap up his date, and the next the demonic rooster horse was suddenly standing beside us.”

“Demonic rooster horse?” Ashley asked, voice dripping with amusement at the name.

“That’s what Nate called it a few years ago,” Gunnar argued.

“Yeah, well, his hooves burned holes in the brand-new floors.” Indie’s voice grew quieter. “And it broke another of Nate’s glass-”

“God damn it…” I grumbled, taking a painful breath as I peeled open my eyes. My head throbbed, both from my tumble and the booze sloshing around in my now tender belly. I swallowed back quickly as I felt my stomach think about heaving. “Has anyone seen a pair of gargoyles around here?”

Everyone rushed to my side, poking, prodding, and squeezing me excitedly. “He’s okay!”

“I think he may have a concussion… did you guys hear him say something about gargoyles?” Gunnar asked softly.

“Hey, Thunderpup. I can hear you.” I checked the back of my head gingerly. I had a nice goose egg, but I didn’t feel particularly different from any other time I had been drinking hard. “I’m fine. Just a little drunk still,” I mumbled.

“How much did you and the little old lady drink?” Gunnar asked, tugging me into a sitting position.

I rubbed my neck, which was also tight. “A bottle.” Gunnar grunted in surprise. Indie merely looked concerned and thoughtful. I was on the couch, and the smell of sulfur hung heavy in the air. “Seriously, guys. I need to know…”

They merely stared back. The monk raised his hand. I hadn’t even noticed him. Everyone turned to stare at him raising his hand like a kid in a classroom. I smiled back, urging him to go ahead. “I find two gargoyle.” I almost jumped off the couch in excitement, but he held up a hand, halting me. “You swimmy head now.” He made a crazy look with his face, wiggling his fingers beside his cheeks like a lunatic, which caused everyone to burst out laughing. He beamed proudly at making everyone laugh. Then he turned back to me. “I show.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened his mouth. He let out a low, monosyllable chant that vibrated my soul like a subwoofer pressing against my back. My friends jumped at the sensation, then again, as two seemingly solid griffin statues burst to life with feral shrieks of anger. They perched on the windowsills of the loft above, and were all of two feet tall each, painted a rich reddish brown in hopes of blending in with the woodwork as decorative carvings.

I sighed. Sneaky monk. He turned to me, pointing over his shoulder at the enraged griffins, who were flaring out their wings as if to plummet at the monk’s unsuspecting back, which I couldn’t let happen. I snapped my fingers and the griffins flinched back as if in salute. They cocked their heads, staring at me with beady eyes, ruffled their feathers in displeasure, and then solidified again, once more appearing like carvings on the windowsill.

The monk beamed. “See? Gargoyle. Pretty gargoyle.”

I nodded back, not wanting to clarify. Those gargoyles weren’t the ones from the loft. Had they been in my head? Had Baba Yaga used some kind of illusion on me?

But no, the Demon rooster had been real. Gunnar and Alucard had fought the damn thing.

“You have mini Guardians here?” Ashley asked in disbelief. I smirked back. She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. I caught the words psychotic, crazy, dangerous, retarded… as she turned her back on me to go stand closer to the windowsill and squint up at them, even sniffing the air momentarily.

I cleared my throat. “No, that wasn’t my question…” Indie waited at my foreboding tone. “The dividers. Do I have any left?”

Indie rolled her eyes.

The monk piped up again. “I fix. All tip-top.” I smiled, practically ready to cry in both frustration, confusion, and relief that something at least had not gone to hell.

“Thanks, Cesar.” I mumbled.

“Cesar?” Ashley asked.

“The dog whisperer’s name is Cesar. Monk over here is the Freak whisperer,” I shrugged. The monk smiled back with a too-big grin. I wondered if he had any idea what I was talking about.

“Hey, how about the Baba Gooey creep?” Alucard interrupted. “Where did she go, and what did she want other than a private table in the VIP section with the wizard?”

“Baba Yaga,” Gunnar corrected. “And he’s a Maker, not a wizard…” Gunnar glared at Alucard. “You really are a horrible sidekick.” Alucard began to argue back, but Gunnar waved him off, smiling. “It is odd, Nate. Why did she want to speak with you? Why did you let her? And where the hell did she go? Did she summon that thing?” Then another worry hit him. “Are the Grimms coming back?”

I was already shaking my head, a sensation of guilt overwhelming me as I remembered her chilling warning at the end. I had summoned the monster. Not Baba. I just didn’t know how.

“The inspector will be here in the morning. We need to…” I glanced around the shop. It was in shambles. Broken floorboards, knocked over displays and shelves, broken glass everywhere, and sooty hoofmarks. “Clean up. At least a little bit…” I finally growled. “That means you, Alucard.” He began to protest, no doubt ready to remind me that much of the items within the store held spiritual powers as they were deemed religious artifacts by various practitioners. Voodoo Dolls, Celtic Crosses, Crucifixes, Buddha and Shiva statues, and various other bric-a-brac. “Someone here will help if you ask nicely.”

“I help fix. Feng Shui broken. Need many incense,” The monk chattered.

Gunnar grunted. “Ashley and I have… business to attend to,” he answered somewhat ashamedly, but I knew he just didn’t want to clean. Ashley rolled her eyes, jabbing him in the belly playfully. He grunted in response.

“No one is going anywhere until I find out what the hell happened at the Auction House,” a voice called out from the front door.

“That’s it. Next person to walk through that door is getting vaporized, based purely on statistical odds,” I muttered.

Gunnar smiled at the familiar tone of our new guest. “Jeffries,” he turned. But Jeffries looked the opposite of pleased. “I had nothing to do with this,” Gunnar held up his hands, taking a step back as he caught the look.

Jeffries, FBI Agent and walking lie-detector scowled back as he saw that Gunnar was telling the truth. I had tested the man, and had been unable to shake him on numerous attempts. He was like a dog with a bone. No matter what tricks you thought you knew to get away with lying, Jeffries was immune. Of course, none of that held up in a court of law, so we typically met up to find more… vigilantic ways to handle criminals who had cheated the system. As long as they fell into my area of expertise. I wasn’t a hitman or anything. But he had done me some favors – and would likely do me many more in the future – so I went out of my way to help him whenever I could.

“I wasn’t there,” I smiled.

Jeffries scowled back. “That wasn’t my question…” He wiped his cowboy boots on my floor mat – a Don’t Tread on Me flag – and then seemed to notice the state of the shop for the first time. He studied his wet muddy boots again, lifted his head with an amused grin, and proceeded to track mud on the floor as he approached. I had to avert my eyes as I realized it mustn’t have been very long since I passed out, because I was still quite drunk.

“What. Happened.” He repeated himself, a no nonsense look on his face.

I opened my mouth, but Indie silenced me with a look. “He’s going to find out the truth eventually. At least this way he hears it from us first.” I sighed, nodding back with unspoken pride at her decision.

She turned to Jeffries. “I went to the auction to buy an item for the store,” she told him, and I hoped Jeffries didn’t catch on that it wasn’t technically for the store, but for a client. He didn’t interrupt, which I found odd. She watched him for a beat before continuing, then she suddenly averted her gaze and I caught the telltale flash of smoke and oil as her powers flipped on, releasing her Grimm talent. I tensed, ready for anything, but nothing happened. She merely made it look like she was crying, and even sobbed a bit, whether it was genuine or not, I couldn’t even tell.

“It’s okay. Just tell me what happened,” Jeffries said softly.

“It’s… I don’t know. The item came out, and the next thing I know a man entered and everyone fell to the ground, including me. I woke up some time later and it was gone. The book. And everyone was dead,” she concluded.

I blinked. Slowly. Either she hadn’t told me that last bit before, or she had just lied to Jeffries. I began to open my mouth, but Indie shot me a murderous flash of her Grimm eyes and my teeth clicked shut. Everyone waited, apparently following my lead.

“And that’s all you remember,” Jeffries pressed. She nodded. He sighed. “Well, did you happen to see the man’s face? I can get a sketch artist here in ten minutes.”

She shook her head. “He stayed in the shadows. The only reason I remember him is because he was the only one standing when everyone fell,” she sobbed softly again, sniffing her nose loudly.

“Okay. I’m glad you didn’t try to hide that you were there. I only barely convinced Special Agent in Charge Reinhardt to let me come here ahead of time, off the books. Because he’s seen my ability to get answers better than anyone else on the squad. We found your name on the guestbook.” He watched her. “I’m also glad you didn’t try to destroy the logbook. Like some might have done…” His eyes danced over to me briefly.

Gunnar let out a chuckle. I scowled at the two of them.

“I’m going to be honest with you up front, Jeffries. We’re going to be performing our own investigation into this. It might be best if your guys drop this. It might be… hinky.”

Jeffries merely shook his head with a frustrated sigh. “Not happening. Even if I wanted to. Reinhardt is on this one, and he’s like a dog with a bone. A dozen very… influential people died tonight. Even if he wanted to, he can’t drop it.”

I nodded. “Just fair warning. You guys might be in over your heads. Hell, we might be in over our heads.”

“Don’t worry, Jeffries. Nate’s used to that position,” Gunnar grinned.

“And I have a hell of a knack for getting out of them on top…” I shot back.

“What exactly do you think is going on?” Jeffries asked.

I shrugged. “Not sure, but one interested party already made an appearance,” I muttered, motioning towards the store’s current state of disrepair. I watched the whites of Jeffries’ eyes as he took in the hoof prints among the debris. Then he shook his head.

“No. never mind. I don’t want to know. Deniability.” I smiled. “I came here, questioned Indie, then left. Sound fair?”

Indie nodded, still facing away as she sobbed. “Thanks, Jeffries.” He smiled at her back and turned to leave. Gunnar followed him out. Alucard remained by the door like a bouncer, taking my previous threat of any more guests to heart, apparently. I rounded on Indie, touched her shoulder to let her know we were safe, and simply arched a brow.

“I told you the truth, Nate. There was no man. At least none that I recall…”

“Which means…”

She grinned darkly at me. “I’m the only one who can lie to Jeffries and get away with it.”

“Consider yourself our new liaison with the FBI.”

Her eyes grew distant, having shifted back to their normal hue. She grasped my hands in hers. “Nate… I need to figure out how to control my power. It’s a liability. With the right training, I could become an asset rather than a threat.”

I nodded back. “I know. We’ll figure it out. Just keep practicing your breathing. And carry some of that tea with you to go. Did it knock you out or were you just tired?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think it knocked me out. It just relaxed me. I didn’t feel drugged. And I feel fine now, which wouldn’t be the case if the tea had been drugged.” But she didn’t look fine. If anything, the circles under her eyes seemed darker, almost purple. But being the wise man I was, I didn’t voice this observation.

“So, we need to find out what happened last night. Why and how did Baba Yaga let loose a monster in here…” I thought aloud.

She glanced at me nervously. “Nate?”

“Yeah,” I answered distracted.

“The monster disappeared the second you passed out. If the old woman had brought it over, wouldn’t it have, you know, attacked while you were weakened?”

I slowly turned to face her, frowning.

“Wait… are you thinking that… that I brought it over?” She looked slightly embarrassed before shooting a harder glance back at me.

“I’m not accusing, just… asking if it’s possible? Maybe the drinking messed with your powers…”

“I…” Then I thought about it. She might have a point. Baba had led me by the nose, asking me what I feared, and she had quizzed me on the book. Maybe it had been an off-handed trap of some kind. After all, I was a Maker now. Maybe I had… made the monster appear. I had been drunk, and as soon as I thought about the rooster horse it had appeared…

“That…” I cleared my throat. “That is incredibly unfair…”

Indie touched my shoulder. “Maybe one day we’ll all have our shit together, but for now I think it’s pretty darn important that we admit one thing,” she studied me seriously. “You’re a hot mess, and you need to stop drinking.”

Alucard grunted. I hadn’t even known he was listening. Then again, vampire. Sneaky bastards. “Speak for yourself,” he chuckled as he popped the cork on a nice red wine I had been saving for a special occasion. He poured himself a splash in a coffee mug. All class, Alucard. “You can’t tell me not to drink blood and not to drink booze,” he muttered, taking a long appreciative sip of my most expensive wine.

“This… sucks.” I growled.

“So, what’s our next step? I hope it involves hitting someone. I really want to hit someone,” he smiled eagerly.

“I don’t think you want to hit this person…” Alucard watched me thoughtfully. “We need gossip. And where do guys typically go to gossip?”

“Their bartender.” I nodded with a faint grin. “Didn’t we just talk about you not drinking anymore? And your first plan is to go to a bar and try to get him to talk?”

I flashed him my teeth.

“I’m going with,” Indie declared. I held up a hand.

“He’s not really a people person, and he might be more open without a Grimm standing there. Not even considering his customer base…” I said lightly. She growled to herself before finally nodding.

I began to turn my head towards the door as Gunnar came back in, “Did someone mention the bar? Because I think my schedule just cleared up… for that. Not the cleaning bit.” Ashley rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I won’t go…” Indie said. “As long as you promise me that you won’t drink.” Indie was smiling, when I turned back to her with an accusatory scowl.

“We don’t even know if it’s related,” I complained.

“I don’t care. Either I go, or you don’t drink. If you let loose a horde of monsters at his bar, it’s essentially the same thing as me hulking out there…” She processed her words, and her face grew tight at the comparison.

I touched her shoulder gently. “You aren’t a monster, Indie. You’re simply untrained. Most freaks have a mentor to guide them through the tough stages, but don’t think for a second that we’re not all a hot mess when we’re first learning.”

“Yeah, and some of us are still a hot mess many years later.” I heard Gunnar and Alucard high-five and rolled my eyes, but Indie was smiling, which is what truly mattered.

“Take care, boys.”

Ashley chimed in, looking embarrassed. “I think it best that we aren’t left alone.” Indie nodded sadly. “Neither of us are too good on the control thing yet. So, I’m going to head back to the office and sort some things out. See you in the morning.” She stretched up on tip-toes and kissed Gunnar on his beard. Maybe his lips. But it looked like she just kissed his excess testosterone. Whatever. I’d have a beard too, someday.

“Nate’s the designated driver. Tonight is going to be wild. I can’t wait to let off some steam.” Alucard’s smile split his face in two. Gunnar clapped him on the back and I muttered dark things under my breath. Maybe I could tell Achilles that Alucard had called his mother a sack of wine or something. I wasn’t up to date on Greek insults, but I had twenty minutes to come up with something.

Plenty of time.

Chapter 14

“And then…” Achilles continued his story, pounding the table with a scarred fist at the appropriate points. I tuned them out. I wasn’t drinking. Well, I was drinking a cranberry juice, but nothing fun. I merely watched my ragtag group of friends laughing about nothing important.

It was nice.

Here we were, several of the biggest legends of history – not me, but my posse – and we were sitting around having a beer and… laughing.

Pretty neat.

Death sat stoically beside Asterion, who was snorting with laughter beside Achilles, even slapping a meaty paw on his back at the punch line. Achilles corded neck muscles may have quivered. A smidge. Which was saying a lot. I had seen him and Death shove each other around a bit to no effect. Gunnar and Alucard chuckled softly as they tipped back their drinks. They were already several bottles in, and seemed to be reveling in the fact that I was actually the designated driver. Which was completely opposite from normal.

I looked up to find Death watching me.

Which, when said like that, is kind of daunting. But we were bros. He had helped me out of a few scuffles over the last few months. Even risking our friendship to make sure that Indie had the chance to survive her murder. I know, sounds odd. You would think that someone who gains power by the number of souls that cross over to his domain might be a little biased and verify that the soul went his way. But not Death. He had gone out of his way to set up a string of dominos that led to an opportunity for Indie to stick it to the Grimms one last time…

By becoming one.

And the worst part. He had incriminated himself to do so. Not being able to tell me anything, I had assumed her death was all his fault, and still, he hadn’t cracked a lip. As if hearing my inner monologue, he lifted his glass discreetly, a Death in the afternoon, and nodded one time. I smiled back.

“I’m going to hit the head,” I muttered, standing.

“Cranberry juice does that to you, from what I hear.” The group devolved into a susurrus of menstruation jokes, which I ignored as I made my way to the restroom.

I stood in front of the urinal, and did my business, thinking dark thoughts about sobriety. I wasn’t wholly convinced that Indie was right.

But…

I also wasn’t convinced that she was wrong.

Which meant it was entirely possible that I had brought the monster into my shop. I didn’t hold the blame stick myself, of course. I knew I had been led by the nose by Baba Yaga, the seemingly harmless old lady from Russian folklore – the one that allegedly fed on little children by luring them into her chicken-legged house.

The back of my neck began to itch. I didn’t feel too nervous. After all, I had a gang of the darkest of nightmares just outside the door, but still…

I turned my neck to find a man leaning against the wall by the trash can, smirking at me.

I watched him, not breaking eye contact as I finished my business. He met my eyes unflinching. “You look tough,” I muttered.

He chuckled, and nodded. “Yup,” he said in a gravelly voice. And kept right on staring. He wore dark jeans, military boots, and an old Guns and Roses concert t-shirt. His hair hung to his shoulders, but was tied back in a bun at the top, leaving the sides to hang free. His face was hard, and although not old, the skin near his dark blue eyes bore the familiar creases of having experienced many, many years. He sported a thick but neatly trimmed beard. I saw no weapons on him at least.

I shook twice – no more – and zipped up my pants, feeling his eyes on the back of my neck. I flushed, turned to face him and, seeing that he still wasn’t averting his gaze – muttered, “You’re early…”

I sauntered over to the sink to wash my hands. He didn’t move, just kept watching me, but I sensed his question at my comment before he spoke.

“Am I?” He answered, amused.

I nodded. “The message in the stall said eight o’clock. But I’m in line first,” I added. “It sounded promising.”

I looked at him in the mirror as he responded. “That’s fine. I’ll wait. Let me know how it goes…” I scowled a bit, crumpling up the paper towel in my fist. I turned to face him, glancing pointedly from his smirking face to the trashcan. He was blocking it. I raised an eyebrow.

His smile stretched wider.

“Fucking weirdos everywhere in this town,” I muttered, tossing the paper at the trashcan, and as a result, his chest. He moved at the last second, barely, just enough for the trash to sail past him and into the receptacle.

We stared at each other for a tense second, and I briefly thought that this would be the first time I ever had to throw down in a men’s room. I rolled my eyes and walked past him, calling over my shoulder, “Have fun in there. StrAngely enough, I’m no longer in the mood…”

I waited for him to lunge at me, but nothing happened as I stepped back into the bar.

And saw my friends standing in a line before me, a thick wall of muscle, hair, and alcohol-induced fortitude wielding bar stools, pool sticks, bottles, and clenched fists. “Easy there, guys. Is this North Carolina or something? Did I use the wrong toilet?” I held up my hands.

But they weren’t staring at me. They were staring at the bathroom door.

Achilles was quivering. “That fucking guy. He knows I can’t act, thanks to that stupid agreement…” he muttered darkly.

“You know, at some point I’d love to hear you elaborate on what exactly your agreement was about.”

He shot me a look, his scowl thunderous, as if furious he had said so much about his agreement. “I made a bad deal,” was all he said. Which was more than I had expected to hear. “Smug prick. I can’t wait until my agreement expires.” He muttered darkly, glancing again over my shoulder.

“What exactly are we talking about? Nancy, back there?” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder, hearing the toilet flush. “He’s a weirdo, but harmless. He’s just looking for a little love in all the wrong places.” My friends continued staring at me, and didn’t dial down at all.

The familiar voice whispered in my ear. It happened so fast that I hadn’t even heard the door open, and my friends hadn’t moved a muscle. My ear practically quivered from the proximity of his voice. “Nancy is far from… harmless, and he does get under the Heel’s skin.” I spun, whips of fire and ice flaring into existence like elemental Laffy Taffy, incinerating and destroying a pair of chairs in my way. But as I spun to face him I found him several feet beyond my reach, smirking again. In fact, he was pouring himself a drink at the bar.

Everyone watched as he carefully added a cherry. Then he turned, took a sip, nodded at us, and spoke. “Since no one is going to introduce me, I guess I’ll just get it out of the way. Name’s Van. The Heel knows me well.”

“That’s weird. My name’s Truck, but my friend’s usually just call me that guy who beat the shit out of that douchebag in the bar,” I smiled. “But you don’t get to call me that. Because you’re not my friend.”

He took a drink behind the smirk, and then suddenly tossed the dregs of his drink at Achilles. My body instinctively tensed. The liquid splashed onto his face, and the Greek legend’s face purpled, but he didn’t move. I slowly turned my head back to Van in astonishment. My friends did the same, but Death merely looked displeased, as if seeing poor taste in action. Asterion growled under his breath, his giant nose ring quivering.

“Easy, mercenary. Disrespecting a man honoring his bargain is low…” Asterion murmured. “Even for you. One more act like that and we will do worse than even he is imagining to you.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Asterion took a threatening step forward.

“I said, No. Cowshit in your ears again, old one? Did your pal here tip you again?” He turned to me. “Nice one, by the way. Wish I would have thought of it.” He winked and I flicked out my whip as he reached for a fresh glass. The bottle exploded under the fire, and I hoped that it would bathe him in flame. But… he stood amidst the flames unconcerned, the fire dancing around him for a few moments before splashing to the floor. He ground a boot into one, puffing it out. And I hadn’t sensed a drop of magic. He glanced at me with a slight frown. Then he turned back to Asterion. “You’re a Buddhist now. You. Won’t. Do. A. Thing,” he enunciated each word.

Asterion’s knuckles cracked, sounding as loud as a chair back snapping in half. Van finally turned to me, pointing a finger. “You. Have something that’s not yours.”

“Highly likely.”

“Right. A book. You’re about to give it to me.”

“Am I? Weird. I was kind of thinking the opposite. It goes so well beside my picture books at home.” I flicked a wrist and my elemental whips slammed into the bar where he was suddenly no longer standing.

“Tsk, tsk.” He murmured from a few feet further down the bar. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Your name is ridiculous. How many of you clowns are after this book?”

That was the first thing that seemed to get through to him. His shoulders rippled and the gaze that latched onto me was predatory, merciless. “What. Do. You. Mean?” His voice was the sound of an icy breeze in a cemetery.

“Baba Yaga. Nice old gal. Iron stomach. Just had drinks with her an hour ago. Heard of her?” I answered.

He was muttering to himself, hands flexing and loosening subconsciously. I tried for honesty. “She swiped the case that held the book after getting me nice and drunk. I have no idea where the actual book is though. I’ve never seen it, but it seems to be a hot commodity. Maybe I want it.” I held up my hands like scales. “Supply. Demand.” I let my hands drop, the whips of fire following like extensions of my fist.

Which they were.

“You’re lying,” he snarled, I assumed in answer to the fact that I had never seen the book.

“No. I could swear it on my power if you like, but only if you promise to go back to the stall and wait until eight o’clock. Should be a wild time.” I offered, actually meaning it.

He watched me. Then shook his head with another snarl. “Fucking Makers. Think they’re invincible. I’ve killed dozens of your kind, boy. Real Makers. Not initiates like you. I’ll take it up with the old git. But if you’re lying, it’s going to go badly for you.”

Then he was simply gone. Before I could mutter a snarky retort.

Achilles lifted a table – the whole thing – and slammed it into the floor, where it exploded into a million toothpick-sized pieces of kindling. He was heaving, great big bellows of air. Asterion rested a beefy palm on his shoulder and began chanting softly. Achilles seemed to cool off as I watched waves of power extend past Asterion’s sausage-sized fingers to settle around Achilles’ shoulders.

I let my power wink out of existence, and noticed Gunnar and Alucard were simply staring at me with curious, wary gazes. I shrugged. “I have no idea. These guys seem to know him, but I’ve never heard of the big bad Van.”

Death cleared his throat, and we three turned to face him. “Van…” He took a drink before meeting our gaze again. “…Helsing. Abraham Van Helsing.”

“Oh…” I replied sheepishly, his ability to withstand magic suddenly making more sense.

“Oh?” Alucard repeated menacingly. “As in, Bram Stoker’s Van Helsing? Legendary vampire hunter.” His eyes danced with murder.

I nodded distractedly. “Yeah. He’s kind of…” I pondered my response. “Kind of a badass. Like a Grimm without the restraint. Legendary, in fact. More kills than any other individual Hunter.” Gunnar’s eyes widened but Alucard simply looked teetering on the edge of reason, ready to go hunting.

“And you just mocked him. Several times,” Death added. Coming from him, it sounded a lot direr than I had wanted to hear. Then again, anything Death told you had that effect. Both literally and figuratively.

“Yeah…” I mumbled. “I’m not really on my game tonight.” I held up a hand. “But there’s one good thing about all of this. I don’t think I need to worry about searching out this book. It seems like everyone is just going to come to me. Which makes my life a lot easier.” I didn’t say anything further, but my mind began to wonder why everyone thought I had it. Was I tainted with its scent, a trace of its magic? From the case I had only briefly touched? The case Baba had just stolen?

I just didn’t know how that could be possible. “When were you going to tell us she stole the case?” Alucard asked. Instead of answering, I sat down on a chair, thinking dark thoughts.

Chapter 15

“That guy’s day of reckoning is coming…” Achilles swore to himself, but loud enough for all of us to clearly hear before he took a swig straight from a bottle he had snagged from behind the bar.

Everyone else joined me, sitting back down at the table after returning their chairs and stools. I had done the most damage to the place, but thankfully it had been for a just cause in Achilles’ eyes.

For which I was eternally grateful.

I had ruffled his feathers a few months back, practically challenging him to a tussle if he ever messed with me. Granted, I had been under false pretenses, assuming he had been hiding information from me, or even worse, that he had been behind setting me up to get killed in the sewers beneath St. Louis.

He hadn’t been, but I hadn’t known that at the time, and my resulting temper tantrum had made a bit of an impression.

Safe to say, I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to call me out on it. He wasn’t one to suffer challenges lightly. Especially when the challenge had been made in front of others.

As if reading my mind, he locked eyes with me. “You.”

I swallowed. Everyone turned to me, no doubt saying their goodbyes.

I was no spring chicken, and I wouldn’t go down without a fight, but I was pretty sure that Achilles would squash me like a bug. Especially with my handicap. I was still learning my new powers. And he was presently all steroid-ed out thanks to Van openly mocking him.

“You managed to piss him off?” He asked incredulously. I shrugged. “That is…” He took another swig from the bottle as everyone else watched us, darting from one to the other like a crowd of spectators at Wimbledon. “…impressive!” He began to shake his head as he let out a light chuckle. “You can tell a lot about a man by his enemies…” Death merely smiled. Gunnar leaned back in his chair, nursing his beer, looking thoughtful. As thoughtful as one could look with one eye. Maybe mysterious was more appropriate. I know he had a lot on his plate lately, what with managing his new pack and trying to help Ashley control her new lifestyle. I frowned. Now that I thought about it, he had practically become a father overnight.

A new wolf pack was like a bunch of kids he was suddenly in charge of, and he had a fiancé who suddenly needed copious amounts of attention.

But that wistful glimmer in his eye…

He was… bored. Or, maybe better phrased as hungry. He saw me getting ready to dive into something dangerous and deadly, and he desperately wanted in. Which was a new facet for Gunnar. Becoming Alpha of the local werewolf pack had altered him a bit. He was more territorial. Aggressive. Confident. Even ruthless to a degree. No more wishy-washy werewolf. Gunnar was truly an Alpha.

And an Alpha needed to let off a little steam every now and then.

Achilles continued. “Due to my… obligation,” he spat the word, “I am unable to directly act, but I do know quite a bit about him. Let’s talk price.”

I took a drink of my cranberry juice. “Go on.”

“I’ll help you if you help me.” My eyes squinted a bit. I didn’t know if I wanted to put my neck on the line to help Achilles. Not at present. I had enough on my plate as it was. But, helping him might get rid of one of my problems. Depending on what his help entailed.

Chapter 16

I answered carefully. “How do you mean?”

“Easy enough. You have something… or someone I want,” he answered vaguely. I didn’t respond. “Not want per se, but want to say hello to again.” I waited. It seemed everyone was leaning forward in their chairs, even Gunnar, who was still leaning back, eyes lidded as if almost dozing, but his ears were practically quivering. “Pandora.”

I realized I had been leaning back in my chair and let the feet thump to the ground as I placed my elbows on the table. “You want me to take you to the Armory.”

He nodded, then hesitated. “Not for the Armory. Simply because she is there. You can place what restrictions you please on me for the duration. I merely want to see an old f… friend,” he corrected whatever he had been about to say.

I pondered that as I felt Death’s eyes pinning me to my chair. “I’ll want to check with her first. A lot of people want to meet her. And I have an obligation to look out for her. She escaped. Briefly. And chose to come back of her own free will.” I didn’t elaborate on her answer, that she had sensed a storm coming. And that I was directly involved in it in some capacity – of which she had stubbornly refused to clarify.

Achilles nodded with a big grin. “Of course. Ask away. I don’t think she will have any issue, but I would understand if she did. She’s more than just a person. She’s a… an image. An ideal. A hope.”

I smiled gently, nodding. “Funny you say that. I used to call her Hope, before I realized what she was.”

Achilles smiled distantly, lost in his own thoughts.

“Mind throwing me any tidbits while we await her response?”

Achilles frowned. “Can’t. At least, nothing you couldn’t find out on your own with a bit of reading. Part of my agreement. I can’t get involved directly in any… important events going on between supernatural factions.” I watched him thoughtfully. Important to whom?

But I knew better than to ask the obvious. He was playing it close to the chest, whether out of choice or obligation, I knew not, but I understood the basic psychology of the human mind. Never ask directly if the patient has any kind of defense up. Circuitous always worked best.

Asterion was thumbing his nose ring thoughtfully, eyes glinting in the dim light. It was nice to see him out and about. The Grimms had burned down his field during their visit, and he had fled into hiding for a time. I had only just discovered he had returned to St. Louis after a casual breakfast stop at Midas Kingston’s farm.

Well, King Midas, if you want to get technical.

He was the Minotaur’s landlord.

I shook my head at the ridiculousness of the situation. “Anyone else have something for me? I had a run-in with Baba Yaga, notorious Russian witch. She also wanted this book. Now, Mr. Personality shows up demanding the same thing. To be honest, I don’t know anything other than that it’s a book a client wanted. Baba admitted it can grant a wish.” Incredulous stares met my words. Fat lot of help that was. “I think I have enough information on Grandma, but I have to admit I’m kind of in the dark on Van Helsing. Other than that movie that came out a few years ago. Picked fights with Dracula, werewolves, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Few other European tussles. What’s so special about him? He didn’t seem to have any magic or anything, so how did he become so widely feared?”

Asterion cleared his throat. “He’s warded. Heavily. Not sure with what, but he’s practically immune to magic. Not sure if it’s a gift he was born with or if he has an artifact of some kind, but he can only be harmed by bone, claw, or teeth. Metal and magic cannot harm him.”

“Dibs,” Gunnar growled as his fists suddenly shifted into white furred paws, thick shiny black claws poking out from the tufts. Alucard smiled agreement as he raised a fist to bump. Gunnar didn’t even look as he obliged with his werewolf paw.

Asterion continued. “Basically, he fancied himself a medieval Batman, saving Regulars from the claws and fangs in the dark. Of course, back then, Europe was a breeding ground for all sorts of creatures, and they pretty much had a stranglehold on the world, those with gifts taking open advantage of those without. It’s why many of you left for the Americas.” I blinked at that.

“But Europe had the Grimms… Surely, Van Helsing can’t compare to them. They could duplicate their opponents’ powers.”

Asterion looked at me. “And Van cannot be harmed by magic…” He tried a different route. “Are you more afraid of the attack you can’t see coming or an army of monsters facing you openly in battle?” I waved a hand, capitulating. “That’s Van. He’s an… entrepreneur,” he glanced around the room, judging to see if his word encompassed the totality of Van. He received a few nods, but just as many frowns. “He goes for the most efficient means of accomplishing his objective. Always. No matter the venue. If he needed to act the waiter for a year in order to get close enough to kill you, then he would be a waiter for a year. He’s the shadow. The Grimms were the police. Both deadly, but at least you knew the Grimms were coming. With Van, you never knew if you were walking around on borrowed time. The ultimate mercenary. In fact, he’s known for delaying his kills, and his contractors don’t mind at all. They just pay for a job well done. No one puts a time limit on him. Just that they die within a reasonable period of time.” He leaned back finally, stroking his goatee.

I grunted. “Immune to magic…” I muttered.

Death piped up. “Not necessarily immune to it, just well protected. I’ve heard of some close calls where a Maker or two injured him during an exchange. They thought they had bought their life back…” Death leaned forward, face flickering briefly into a skull. “They were wrong. They died later. Unexpectedly, and violently. And the shadow drifted off like smoke. No one said aloud that Van had done it, but everyone knew. He’s… thorough,” Death maintained his smile, leaning back. “Reliable to his contracts to the last.”

“Yeah, well. Not sure why I’m in his crosshairs, or what exactly this magical whatsit is or does. What would attract a famed witch like Baba Yaga, and a legendary assassin like Van Helsing?”

No one had an answer to that. I slapped my knees. It was getting late. “Well, I would say it’s been a pleasure, but Van kind of ruined that. Sorry about the damage.” Achilles waved a hand.

“Worth it. No obligation to rectify. You did what I wished I could have.”

“Want to tell me what he did to piss you off so badly?” I pressed.

Achilles turned raptor-like eyes on me, physically pinning me to my chair. “No.” He said it with the finality of a funeral speech. “I don’t.”

Death shook his head discreetly at me, urging me not to push. For some reason, I listened.

“Well, looks like I have some research to do.”

“Great. More book stuff,” Alucard muttered.

Asterion piped up. “You know, maybe hiring a vampire to run your bookstore wasn’t the brightest of moves. Nothing against you personally, Alucard.” He smiled at the vampire’s scowl. “You make it fairly obvious that you don’t enjoy your job, or like books, or any of the other things that come with running a bookstore.”

Alucard grew thoughtful, but didn’t say anything. “I’m just thirsty. Makes me hangry.”

Achilles stood and walked behind the bar. A moment later he tossed the vampire a blood bag. Alucard’s eyes twinkled as he caught it. “Last one, I’m afraid.” But Alucard was already guzzling the black-market blood donation bag. He finished it like a kid slurping a soda through a straw, crushed the bag in a fist, and let out a long, contented sigh. His skin visibly darkened from pale to… less pale, I guess, but he looked suddenly stronger. We all watched him for a minute before I shook my head and turned towards the door. “See you guys soon,” I called over a shoulder as Alucard and Gunnar said their goodbyes.

My mind wandered, casting a heavy silence over the car as I drove us back to the shop to drop off Alucard – who lived there and had a night of cleaning ahead of him – and Gunnar – who had parked just down the street. Gunnar had informed me that he was fine to drive, and I believed him. He may have changed a bit, but he would never openly break a law that could put others in danger.

The mood was somber as we said our goodbyes outside my shop. “See you tomorrow. Early,” Gunnar reminded me. I nodded distantly, mentally combing my Memory Palace of books, items, artifacts, and any other things I stored there from my past, questing out for whispers of stories I may have read about either of my two new enemies.

I had the unique ability to remember things. Everything, pretty much. When I chose to utilize it anyway. To better organize my thoughts, I typically stored important things in an imaginary house that resided in my mind. A mansion where practically everything inside was a stored memory of some kind. This chair represented Plato’s Allegory of The Cave. That lamp represented my father’s conversation about manhood. Each item in the home, every painting, book, piece of furniture, and article of clothing, was a memory.

But I had nothing on Van Helsing other than common knowledge of the name.

Which meant I would be spending a few hours in my library before getting some sleep so that I could meet Gunnar in the morning.

Chapter 17

I sat in my study, fingers nervously tapping the satchel beside me.

To hell with it. Better now than later…

I leaned over the arm of the chair and finally plucked out the book I had stolen from the ogres. Even though we had pretty much been discovered, a small sense of satisfaction lingered in my heart. My success was the fact that I had gotten the book before my unknown competitor had gotten his or her grubby hands on it.

The embossed black leather cover shone dully in the light cast from the low-lit sconces on the wall, almost transforming the glow on the cover into flames of a sort.

I carefully cracked the spine. A chilled glass of Macallan sat beside me. The fifty-year-old one that Mallory seemed to find either at some kind of bulk sale, or from some secret stash that my father had stowed somewhere in the rambling family mansion. I let the book rest on my lap as I reached over to take a sip, careful not to spill any condensation on the pages. I had risked my life to get it.

Fortified, I finally glanced down at the book which had nearly gotten me killed.

An alleged first edition of Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass.

Or, the sequel to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, as it was more commonly known.

I would have to do some testing in order to verify the authenticity, but this was a personal acquisition. I could have bought it, but with that other player swiping up my purchases of late, I had wanted to verify that this one ended up in my hands. And it could still end up being a fat waste of time.

But this book had haunted me of late. Because I had seen it in one other place.

The White Room. Or White World, if I was being accurate. And with the strange bearded Ginger who resided there. The one Death had warned me to leave alone. My first visit to that place had been after I died…

Let me explain.

I had been framed by the ruling body of wizards – the Academy – as a sympathizer to demons. Really it had been one wizard trying to gain access to an Armory of supernatural weapons my father had hidden away, but I hadn’t known that until later. The Angels got wind of my alleged allegiance with Hell, and made it their mission to destroy me, along with their gang of Nephilim. That was when my shop got destroyed. During the final tussle, I had been killed. Death – one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse – had taken mercy on me being framed, and had given me another shot at life, which I had used to immediately roast – figuratively and literally – the bad guy. Then I had passed out, and found myself in a… White Room.

And we’re not talking a simple interior decorating preference. You see, everything there, floor, carpets, decorations, walls, books, paintings even, had been white. When I had touched the railing on the window to look outside in sheer disbelief at a shining white forest and milky ocean, I had left a sooty stain. Then, when I had tried to wipe it off, my clothing only made the stain worse. But I had been perfectly clean. Giving up on the stain, I had found a bookshelf housing a collection of entirely white books – font, lettering, and covers, all white. Despite their lack of pigment, the embossed covers had allowed me to read their titles. Like Braille in a way. I had picked up a book at random, Through the Looking-Glass, and left a noticeable stain. Everything I touched had left a stain. As if my very existence had been a stain on the natural order of that world.

I had somehow managed to escape right before the owner entered the room to find me, the intruder, staining his perfectly organized and cleaned world. But then a few months ago, after my fight with the Grimms, I had found myself back in the room. And the same book – the one I had previously stained with my touch – had been resting on the coffee table. As if a message left just for me. I know you were here… and that you will be back… This time I had managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of the resident – a giant flaming red-bearded Ginger – before I escaped.

But the question remained. What was that place? Who was the Ginger? And why had he left the book I had stained on the table? As if knowing I would someday return.

Neither time had I intended to visit the man’s home. I had just ended up there for some reason. Almost as if there was a purpose unbeknownst to me that kept forcing me to go there.

I carefully flipped the pages of the almost identical black book before me, checking the edition, print, and all the other nerdy facts, verifying that it did indeed seem to be one of the first copies printed.

Regardless, it was the only thing I could concretely say that now connected us.

Or I was bat-shit insane and would be urinating in milk bottles after locking myself up in my house.

I continued flipping pages, smiling absently as I noticed no resulting stain from doing so.

I still thought about that. I wondered if it was some kind of message, that my soul was stained. That everything I touched was stained. It implied that something about my very self was a stain in his world.

Whoever he was.

I tapped my lips thoughtfully, continuing past the well-known story. I smiled at a particular passage, reciting it from memory as I continued flipping pages.

In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die…

As I neared the end, I found notes scrawled on the side margins. I carefully turned the book sideways to read them. The comments were printed in a neat precise hand, and alluded to fairy tales from other books. Hans Christian Anderson, Grimm’s Fairy Tales, Aesop’s Fables, and a few others. Just mentions of characters with lines drawn to certain random words on the pages. But the words didn’t reference whatever character the comments implied. For example, Goldilocks was written on the margin, and the line pointed directly at the word Dreams. Shaking my head, I continued flipping pages, taking note of the characters mentioned in the margins and the words circled or underlined. The amount increased as I neared the end of the book with the last page having no white space in the margins at all, entirely crammed with manic notes.

Then I turned over the last page of the story. It was blank, but I found myself frowning.

A dozen pages or so remained, which made no sense at all.

I flipped the page over and found it completely covered, from top to bottom in a tight, harsh script. There was exactly zero white space left to cram in a single vowel. In fact, there were so many words packed so tightly together that it seemed to form one of those optical illusions that if you stared at long enough you would see a yacht or something. I knew that was just my imagination, because the level of skill needed to make the lines of words form a specific image would force the words to simply be gibberish. I scanned through them, just in case, and found that it was a collection of poems – some that I recognized, and others I didn’t – and that they were all complete, made perfect sense, and were absolutely not gibberish, which meant that the representation of an image concealed in the words was outlandish, and purely a figment of my imagination.

I flipped the page to find the same thing.

And the next.

And the next.

I quickly continued flipping, careful to scan the pages first in order to verify that they were identical to the first, being complete, accurate poems, and that they did indeed seem to draw my mind into forming images.

The penultimate page was half complete, and instead of a poem, it read more like…

Well, a text message or email conversation. Dialogue.

The hair on my neck threatened to mutiny and jump into the cold fireplace beside my chair as I read the words.

Are you there?

Hello?

I’ve been waiting for you…

Alice?

We’ve had a guest, but they didn’t stay for tea-time… quite rude.

Please come back… I’ll be good, I promise…

It was the diary of a madman. I continued reading.

I’ll filet your gizzard and floss my teeth with…

Pretty lights!

He returned! I hope he saw the book…

I jumped to my feet, slamming the book shut and tossing it onto the chair behind me as I took several quick steps away. I glanced at the harmless book with true fear.

“No,” I whispered, taking another step away. “That’s… that’s not possible…” It couldn’t be referring to me. It sat there, like books are wont to do, but I was breathing heavily. I took another step back, and I heard a sudden tinkling noise in the vacuum of silence. I jumped back a step, whips of fire on the tip of my tongue, ready to obliterate whatever Demon had dared disturb me.

Then I heard it again, my eyes tracking the sound, and I saw it had merely been a clump of ice cubes melting in my drink. I sighed, shaking my arms loose of the sudden adrenaline, glad no one had witnessed my fright.

“Ice cubes!” I chuckled nervously, turning back to the book as if ready to see it suddenly grow eyes and a tail.

Nothing happened.

I slowly approached the book, and flipped to the last page of dialogue.

I’m so lonely…

I shivered. Death had told me not to go back. To never, ever go back, in fact.

I considered my next action carefully, weighing options, potential consequences and ramifications. But I also considered potential gains.

Then I picked up a pen and scribbled a quick note. Then I closed the book quickly, tossed it onto the coffee table, and flicked the pen over my shoulder somewhere near my desk.

After a few too many glances at the book, I suddenly let out another burst of laughter. It suddenly occurred to me that I was acting like a love-sick teenager who had just professed his love to a classmate via text or email or voicemail, and was anxiously checking his phone every twenty seconds for a response, heart in hand the whole time. I shook my head with a chuckle and took a sip of my drink.

It was just a foolish fancy.

No one was going to respond to my comment in the book…

But I still found myself glancing at it too often as I finished my drink.

Chapter 18

“Just keep trying. If anyone can do it, you can.” The voice on the other end of the line purred in response. Harmless flirting. At least I hoped it was harmless.

“Will do,” she answered. I hung up the phone to find Gunnar staring at me impatiently.

“Do you not know the meaning of be quiet?” He growled.

I shrugged, but thumbed my phone to silent as I picked up the carbon fiber monstrosity beside me. It was light, but with all the gears, strings, and reels, it was extremely intimidating. And seemingly superfluous since I could do worse damage with my magic.

But it looked cool.

And I was trying to do this Gunnar’s way. Well, now that I thought about it, not really his way either. I couldn’t shift, which was his primary gift, so we were both pretending to be regulars as we walked through the woods in the early morning dawn. I followed his lead, attempting to mimic his stealthy steps.

“Shouldn’t we be up in a tree or something?” I whispered under my breath, knowing his werewolf senses would hear me clearly.

“That’s too easy. We’re doing this like our ancestors did,” he answered back for my ears only. We had been out here for hours already in complete silence, creeping through some forgotten acreage outside St. Louis.

I grunted, causing him to glance back at me, squinting. “My ancestors would have used magic. Yours would have used fang and claw. We’re doing this like regulars. Trying to be something we’re not.” I met his eye, wondering if he would catch the obvious undertone.

“We’re having fun. This is peaceful. Focus on the present. Let everything else go. Become one with your surroundings,” he smirked, before turning away.

“You’ve been hanging out with the monks too much,” I muttered.

He continued on as if I hadn’t spoken. I took a deep breath, and let it out softly. Fine. If he wanted us to focus on nature, then I was going to focus on nature.

I was bored enough to easily fall into a walking meditation of sorts as I followed him. We wore camouflage, with the stupid orange hats. Which had always baffled me. Then again, maybe deer were color blind. But then why wear camouflage in the first place? I assumed it was due to the shapes depicted on the fabric. Break up our outlines or something. I had also been commanded to shower with some special soap that left no scent, with Gunnar waiting outside the bathroom as I did so. He even smelled me when I walked out. He handed me a different towel, one that hadn’t touched a dryer sheet, and tossed it at my face. I caught it, dropping my nice, soft towel, which he promptly swiped up and tossed out in the hall. Dean picked it up before I could mutter an argument.

Indie had murmured a sleepy, good luck, before rolling over in bed.

Remembering my morning was not helping my peaceful attitude. I wanted to just let fly with the projectile in my fist, but knew it would only cause us to drag on the hunt even longer.

Still, imagining shooting one of the damned happy chirping birds would have soothed me.

Gunnar interrupted my murderous thoughts. “I need to talk to you about something,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. He waited a few seconds, scanning our surroundings before continuing. “I’ve kind of made it obvious that I have a lot on my plate right now.”

I nodded. “Our bro-mance is on hold.”

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah. Sure. It’s just that… well, the pack takes up quite a bit of my time. Learning to cohabitate with my own kind is… an experience, to say the least.” I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. Gunnar had always been a lone wolf. Literally. I wasn’t sure if he had ever truly interacted with another werewolf before, other than in passing. He also kept his few true friends close, not being a social butterfly kind of guy. Quality over quantity. And undying loyalty. Which I completely understood. “They’re so much different than I had thought they would be. Sure, there are the occasional wild tempers and fighting, but underneath it all is a tight-knit community that would literally die for each other. I’ve never been a part of something quite like it. Well, other than with you and your family basically raising me. But,” his voice grew distant, searching for the right words, and likely trying not to offend me. “Having a group of people so similar to me, with the same internal struggles, searching for leadership, and knowing that they value me and my opinions. They in fact, crave it. It’s… humbling. I’m trying to do my best with that responsibility. Which is taking up the majority of my time. But I’m also learning so much from them… Not just about my power, but about myself. Just… a lot on my plate.”

“And Ashley’s control issues,” I added.

His voice instantly growled and I sensed his shoulders bunching up instinctively before he caught himself. Coupled with his new look, it was pretty damn intimidating. The man bun and beard reminded me of a Viking even more than normal, or some kind of wild sea god, unaccustomed to human banter. He truly was a wild man. Which wasn’t a bad thing. It was just…

A thing.

Change.

I sighed. “I’ve got the same problem, brother. Indie’s a loose cannon. At least you only have to protect her from one type of change. I could be dealing with a dozen different flavors of freak before lunch, depending on whom we cross paths with.” The chirping was beginning to have a calming effect on me.

Damn it. He had been right. There was something magical about nature and the act of hunting. While seeking to murder, hunters appreciated the beauty surrounding them. Which was a paradox in itself. I continued on as he remained silent, getting his breathing back under control. “It’s made me pretty adept at reacting though. Which is helping with my new powers. We’re all in a learning curve,” I shrugged. “No reason to apologize for it. Part of life, I guess.” I sighed, and let out a soft chuckle. “And to think, I used to believe I had everything figured out. Then we ran into the weredragons. Then the Academy, Horsemen, and Angels. And then the Grimms. Took my scrapes, but I learned something each time. At pretty heavy costs at times,” I added, wincing at the thought of his eye. Or the lack thereof.

I saw that he was scowling with his lone eye as his head swiveled back and forth, scanning our surroundings. “Yeah. But my hearing, smell, and sense of spatial awareness seems to have increased. I almost feel more able. Stronger. Confident. Not sure if it’s the pack or having to adapt and learn.” He smiled, glancing over his shoulder at me with a blink.

Or was it a wink?

“No reason to apologize,” He mimicked my earlier comment. “I just wanted to speak openly about it. The elephant in the room was pretty obvious. I mean, you hired Alucard to run your bookstore. If that doesn’t scream desperation, I don’t know what does.” He smiled at me. I nodded, grinning back.

“He’s kind of worthless, isn’t he?”

Gunnar grunted. “Understatement.”

“But he’s so adamant about helping.”

“You’re his pack now, Nate…” Gunnar replied softly.

“I guess. Too bad no one told him I’m a horrible leader.”

“You have your moments.” Gunnar sniffed the air suddenly, shook his head once, then went completely still. I froze, clenching the bow in my arm. He relaxed after a moment and frowned. Then continued on. “I just wanted to be up front with you. The pack. Ashley’s shifting problems…”

“Still a wild one during the full moon?” I asked softly. He nodded. “I’ll see if I can find out exactly what my parents did for you. Maybe I can duplicate it.” I thought about if for a second. “Well, I’ll try. Not sure how my new powers would aid or hinder that, but I’ll do some digging.”

Gunnar turned to me, gaze deep and grateful. “Thanks…”

I shoved him a bit before he could get all weepy. “There’s no crying in hunting. I said that I’ll try. Not that I would succeed.”

He grinned back, shrugging. “Trying is the same as succeeding when it comes to your manic research skills.” He paused as we continued on. “We’re also working on a side business together. It’s actually doing pretty well. I’ll tell you about it some other time. Don’t want to jinx it… Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I have a thousand tiny things to take care of, and didn’t want you to take my absence the wrong way. I feel like I’m finally able to stretch my wings a bit after the FBI. I felt like I was standing in your shadow for too long. This feels… nice. So, I can’t go kicking around sewers with you anymore for a little while…” he grew silent for a moment. “No hard feelings?” He asked softly.

I began to answer when suddenly my own senses set off an alarm. Gunnar reacted a millisecond ahead of me, hands shifting to claws in the blink of an eye. Our eyes latched onto a hulking presence about fifty yards away from us, sniffing the air curiously. I don’t know how we hadn’t seen it. It was at least nine feet tall, had long, shaggy fur, giant tusks forming a Guinness Book of World Records under bite, and a pair of gnarled bone horns protruding from his temples. His eyes flashed yellow in the early morning light, and he turned slightly away from us for a second, revealing slender purple spikes down his back…

I froze in disbelief.

“Purple prickles!” I pointed eagerly, practically dancing on my toes.

He nodded, sniffing the air.

“A fucking Gruffalo?” I stammered in disbelief.

Chapter 19

Gunnar grunted, “The children’s book?”

I rounded on him, flabbergasted. “You’ve read The Gruffalo?” He shrugged in embarrassment.

“Look, it can’t really be a Gruffalo…” Then a wolfish grin split his beard. “Everybody knows, there’s no such thing as a Gruffalo…”

I rolled my eyes, pointing. “Look, a giant fucking Gruffalo. It’s right in front of us.”

“How is that even possible?” Gunnar rounded on me, head swiveling back and forth between me and the beast.

My mind was racing. “I’m not impaired, right?”

He frowned at me. “What are you talking about?”

I shivered, not answering him. I hadn’t told anyone else about my talk with Indie, but now I was almost entirely confident that I had caused the monster to appear in my shop. I had made the monster appear. Because I was a Maker. I had seen the Gruffalo movie, and had always held a slightly nightmarish fear of him. Because, well, I was a wizard, and my parents had always warned me that monsters of fang and claw really did exist. The Gruffalo – although I had first seen it as a teenager – had always reminded me of what some of those monsters could look like.

In the book, of course, he wasn’t particularly frightening. But in my twisted imagination… Looking back, it was often absurd to remember the things that frightened us. But when you stumble upon one, it was always a doozy.

So, a fucking Gruffalo.

“It’s got to be something else. Fairy of some kind?”

“Like my pet? Because he has a fondness for wolf pelts,” a voice cooed from the woods around us. Gunnar whirled, growling territorially, but I couldn’t see where the voice had originated, and apparently, Gunnar couldn’t either. “I assure you, he is in fact a Gruffalo. When stories become popular enough, they sometimes have the ability to come to life in other realms. This one is fairly young, but quite… terrible.”

“I told you I don’t have time for this kind of stuff anymore, Nate. I fucking told you. It’s like you invite these things into your life,” Gunnar complained, lone eye scouting the woods threateningly.

“Oh, no you don’t. This is not my fault.” I was simply relieved I hadn’t caused the monster to appear, but to be fair, I wasn’t too keen on finding out who the voice belonged to. I hadn’t made many friends by chance encounters in the woods. The Gruffalo continued sniffing the air curiously, paying no attention to us, which I found odd. The voice was obviously interested in us, so why wasn’t the monster?

A figure finally emerged from the gloom, halting my wandering thoughts. She was tall and lithe, and her face was as hard as a sheet of slate. Angular, harsh, with cheek bones that could cut marble. Her eyes were a fiery green, like emeralds, and her ratted hair hung in dreadlocks tied back in a ponytail. She was clad in buckskin and leathers, and wielded a long, wicked knife at her belt.

“Hold that thought, Pocahontas,” I turned my back on her to face Gunnar. “You were saying?”

“I said I didn’t have time for this crap anymore.” I implored with my fingers that this wasn’t really an option at the moment. “Right. How many of these clowns are there now?”

“Three. Wait.” I turned back to Pocahontas. “You’re here for the book, right?”

Her eyes weighed me studiously, as if I had spoken another language. She finally nodded. I turned back to Gunnar.

“Yep. Three.”

“Well, that’s less schmucks than the Grimms a few months ago. We should be able to handle this in, what, fifteen minutes?” He shot a dark grin over my shoulder and I smiled. I turned back to her.

“Okay. We’re ready. Who the hell are you again?”

“I’ve gone by many names, Maker. You won’t be needing the knowledge where you’re going.”

“Man, if I had a nickel for every time…” I rolled my eyes. “Listen, toots. You’re probably a badass. With a childhood monster at your beck and call and those rad threads. But there’s something you might not know about me.”

“Oh?” Her eyes danced merrily.

“I’m the trash man.” And I let loose a vortex of power, ripping the debris, gravel, twigs, and leaves from the ground to pelt her in the face. Gunnar was already airborne, having shifted in midflight. His claws struck her in the chest as she struggled to see, and the Gruffalo roared in outrage in the distance. Gunnar knocked her back into the tree, but she rolled out of the reach of his teeth and was suddenly on all fours, wicked knife gleaming.

I was ready to lash out again when I had a thought. Three of these clowns. Maybe I could turn them on each other. “I don’t have your stupid book. Some douche named Van has it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Where is he?” She hissed.

I heard the clang of a crossbow, but she flinched at the last second, catching the projectile in her bare fist. Her grimace turned feral. “Hello, love,” a voice called out from a dozen paces away. The woman turned to face him, practically quivering with outrage. “No need to call for me. I’m here. For my book.” His glare shot my way.

“Well, shouldn’t you be chasing down Baba Yaga for it?” I asked.

His eyebrows furrowed, and his gaze danced around the woods for a beat. “I am…”

A creeping sensation slithered down my neck as a chilling cackle split the silence. Gunnar began pacing back and forth, slowly making his way back to my side without causing anyone to react defensively. His head swiveled constantly, having only one eye to gauge his surroundings.

The cackle oozed through the woods, reaching me like a feather behind the ear in a dark room. Then I saw her. She strode out of the woods opposite Van Helsing, her usual getup rustling through the forest floor. But she wasn’t alone.

A looming, cloaked, hunchbacked figure followed in her wake. Each step seeming to press the earth down much more than made any sense, as if the creature weighed several tons. A billowing mass of fabric draped over its shoulders, and an aged bone renaissance doctor’s mask covered its face. The kind with the long, beak-like nose and hollowed eye sockets. But I could see only darkness behind the mask. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human. A powerful stench rolled over the forest, of old urine, blood, and offal, like a slaughterhouse. A pair of birdlike talons peeked out from beneath the figure’s robes, and my heart chilled.

Baba Yaga lived in a house with chicken feet that could move about the forest as if alive.

“Ew. She brought her trailer with her…” I murmured.

Van grunted agreement. “She usually does.” His eyes appraised me thoughtfully. “Not all can see it though.” Then I noticed something odd. The light was striking her face, but she had no shadow. Instead, the walking house-creature stood where her shadow should have been. As she turned this way and that, the house shifted almost imperceptibly, just like a shadow would. The creepy factor red-lined. Gunnar was sniffing the air, but didn’t seem to notice the shadow-house, eye instead locked onto Baba and the other two.

“Well, now that we’re all here…” Baba began, coming to a halt so that we stood facing each other like points on a circle. “So, you two are the rodents I smelled at the auction. Trying to steal an old woman’s book.”

“It’s not yours, witch.” Pocahontas hissed. “I’m the hunter. It goes to me.”

“Easy, cavewoman. You hunt animals. I hunt monsters. By myself, I might add.” His eyes flicked to the Gruffalo a few dozen paces away now, who seemed torn between joining us and sniffing whatever it was that had him so interested. “I don’t need backup, like you two apparently do,” Van continued.

I raised my hand. “Hey, um. Let’s just cut to the chase. Which one of you killed everyone at the auction and stole the book? No judgment. I’d just like to buy it.”

Three sets of seeming immortal eyes swiveled to me, as if having temporarily forgotten me. “He has it.” The, well… huntress declared, pointing her knife at me.

I arched my brow, wondering if she was that dim-witted. “Um, no. Remember? I just asked to buy it. In fact, I already talked to Mama Goodvibes about it last night, although she left rather abruptly. With the book’s case.” I turned to the Russian witch. “We probably need to talk about that. In private. Preferably somewhere no one can hear you scream.” She smiled back darkly. “You can bring Franken-chicken with you too.” I studied the beast of a shadow with a look of unhidden disgust. “I don’t like his face.”

The creature turned midnight eyes on me. That was it. Just a look.

But my sphincter tightened like I was battling a case of Montezuma’s Revenge.

“That is my home, Maker. Be careful how you speak of him. We wouldn’t want any… misunderstandings, would we?”

I frowned at the implications. How could this thing be her shadow, her home, and a murderous creature all at the same time?

“It’s bigger on the inside,” Van murmured, seeming to read my mind.

Baba smiled at him. “Oh, yes. I almost forgot that you’ve graced us with your presence in the past. Not many leave our hospitality, you know.” Her eyes twinkled hungrily and the shadow quivered as if upset.

“Yeah, I didn’t like the bedsheets.”

“Not sure about you guys, but I have better things to do with my time than creeping each other out, so let’s make this constructive. What exactly is this book that we all want so badly? A client asked me to buy it. In fact, …” my voice trailed off as I had a thought. I looked from face to face. “Are one of you clowns my client? I’ve never actually met the guy.” I turned to address the two women. “Or gal.” Then my eyes shifted to the Gruffalo and Baba’s house, which both seemed to be sniffing the air again. What the hell were they doing? “Or thing.”

I could sense Gunnar’s tension as his head got a workout, flicking from one threat to the next.

“I have clients. I don’t hire others to do my dirty work,” Van sneered, glancing pointedly at Baba and the Huntress.

They shot dark looks back, but shook their heads with varying denials. “Right. And aren’t we all just an honest bunch of Girl Scouts…” I muttered. Only Van laughed. “So, that means one of you is double-playing the rest of us.” I let that sink in as they all shot thoughtful glares at each other. “Or… there is another schmuck out there waiting in the wings, no doubt laughing his or her ass off at us right now.” I offered, hoping to turn the three immortal psychopaths in another direction, if not at each other. After all, I really didn’t have any idea where the book was. No point losing my life over it. “You guys have any enemies needing some new accessories?”

They again appraised each other intensely, all holding secrets, no one speaking.

But we were suddenly interrupted as the Gruffalo finally got a solid lead on whatever he had been searching for. He let out a leonine spitting roar, spun on turned-out toes, and launched himself at his prey.

Me.

Gunnar howled in defiance.

The huntress laughed.

Van merely took a step back and folded his arms, letting things play out, as did Baba.

I lashed out with my whips of pure elemental fire and ice, and then morphed them into the crackling purple cords of quivering… whatever it was I had used against the Grimm-Liger Tag-team I had confronted a few months ago, and slammed them into the earth before me, causing the ground to shudder. Baba clapped lightly, and I squared off against my childhood Demon as Gunnar hunkered down low.

“There’s no such thing as a Gruffalo…” I chanted under my breath.

Chapter 20

Being in as many scraps as I had over the years, you come to realize a sixth sense, or maybe it’s just a combination of all your senses being analyzed by your subconscious, warning you of something just a bit louder than your natural fight-or-flight syndrome.

For example, although the Gruffalo was pounding towards us, he was actually staring over my shoulder, not at me.

I waited until the last second, realizing that the Gruffalo had no intentions of stopping to go around me, but that he simply was intending to pound over me… just like I would unknowingly step on a leaf while walking through the woods. No second thought. I need to step here. So, I’m going to step here. I have no inkling of concern for – or even an acknowledgment of – the leaf.

I was the leaf to the Gruffalo.

I dove out of the way at the last possible moment, lashing out with my whips at the monster’s feet. My whips slammed into his ankles, wrapping around them in a crackling coruscation of purple light and sizzling meat, and I yanked back, using my momentum to pull for all I was worth. After all, the thing was huge.

The Gruffalo roared in pain as his feet swept out from under him, sending him horn first into a tree, which cracked loudly before slowly toppling under his titanic weight. The tree and the Gruffalo crashed to the ground, and the Huntress screamed in fury.

Gunnar snarled pure venom at the Huntress as the Gruffalo tore at the earth, flinging away my whips of power with snarls of pain and outrage as he climbed to his feet. His golden eyes locked onto me for a heartbeat and he took a threatening step my way.

Then he abruptly grunted in pain as an invisible force slammed into him, sending him ass over teakettle a good fifty feet away. He careened off two more trees on his brief flight.

The cause of the abrupt impact coalesced into a figure on horseback.

Indie, astride Grimm. We all stared, dumbfounded.

The unicorn’s pearlescent, gnarly horn glistened with black blood where it had impaled the Gruffalo. His hooves flickered with silver fire, and his feathered mane flared out like that icky dinosaur from Jurassic Park. The one that spat poison at people. A drop of the black blood fell from the horn, and quick as a snake, Grimm’s tongue shot out to catch the nourishment with a contented neigh. For a millisecond, we locked gazes, and I noticed that she was just as confused as me, looking almost delirious with exhaustion or struggle of some kind. Being around all five of us was overwhelming her constraint. Then she and the unicorn flickered out of existence without a trace. I blinked. That was new.

A tense silence grew for a moment before anyone spoke. “I approve of her mount. I shall take it,” the Huntress stated matter-of-factly.

“She had the book,” Van growled.

But Baba was shaking her head with a slight frown. I let out a small sigh. Baba had seen Indie yesterday and knew she didn’t have it. Thank God. I couldn’t imagine all three of these punks going after Indie at once. I needed to get them pointed in another direction. Immediately.

“No, she doesn’t. Trust me.” Van laughed snidely. I shot him a glare. “She touched it last night when she tried to buy it at the auction. The auction that one or all of you crazies obviously attended, to steal and murder everyone involved, for your precious book.”

Not one of them had a look of chagrin on their face. Whether that was because they were innocent, or literally cared nothing for the human lives that had been taken, I didn’t yet know.

“It’s just like me,” I continued. “I have a trace of the book’s residual whatever it is on me as a result of touching the case left at the murder scene. So does the Grimm you just had the pleasure of meeting.” They watched me thoughtfully, and I flicked out an accusatory finger. “So does she.” I pointed at Baba. The two growled at her, sensing the air with their various powers, and seeming to confirm the truth to my words.

“The question is, who has the book? If we’re all here looking for it, chances are favorable that there really is another player in the game laughing his or her ass off. If one of us already had it, we would be long gone by now,” I said.

They studied each other, nodding slowly.

“How vested are you guys on getting it, because I would really like to buy it. My client was willing to pay quite a bit for it, although he didn’t inform me of competitors, or what the… book truly was.” I waited, but no one deemed my words worthy of a response.

Then they began to banter back and forth with various forms of grotesque harm against anyone who got in their way over the next few days. “Right,” I interrupted. “I’ll take that as pretty fucking vested. Well, until next time. I would say it’s been a pleasure, but…” I waved my hand vaguely, glancing at the Gruffalo who still hadn’t gotten up but was beginning to stir. “Someone really needs to go tuck that Gruffalo back in bed.”

“Lions do not consort with prey,” the Huntress sniffed disdainfully, and she and the Gruffalo simply vanished.

Van watched the air she had vacated for a second before turning to me. “I’m out too, but I’ll be seeing you and your wolfpup again. Soon.” His eyes swiveled to study Gunnar. “You look fun, boy. We should play hide and seek sometime.” He patted his crossbow hungrily. Gunnar growled. Van let out a laugh, winked, and with a faint pop of oily smoke, disappeared also.

Which left us alone with the witch. “Coincidentally, I heard of a delicious bake sale tonight. Perhaps you could join me? The cookies are supposed to be mouthwatering…” She drew out the word like an infomercial.

I had a vague feeling I would not appreciate her choices of cookies, given the nature of her stories. “No, thanks.”

“I’ll pick you up at your toy store tomorrow night, Nathaniel. I would like to discuss some things in private also.” Leaving me no time to respond, she and her familiar simply faded from existence like dissipating fog.

Chapter 21

Gunnar loped up beside me, panting lightly. His eye was a vivid scar across the unblemished white fur of an otherwise perfect specimen of a giant freaking wolf. Making him look wilder, darker, grimmer… harder. He watched me in silence. Damn single eye made it look accusatory, so I scowled back.

Indie and Grimm suddenly appeared behind Gunnar on the heels of a bolt of obsidian lightning. Thunder seemed to immediately shatter the trees around us and Gunnar yelped in terror, tail tucked between his legs.

I burst out laughing.

Gunnar shifted back to human form, face red. “You can’t tell me that didn’t startle you.”

“Actually, I can. She does it all the time. The Unicorn kept following her around everywhere after she died. But the disappearing act is new.”

“I thought it was yours.”

“I, not it,” Grimm grumbled, causing Gunnar to flinch again.

“Jesus. I didn’t know you could talk, too. I thought only Gruff could talk.” Gruff was Death’s horse. The Pale Horse of the Apocalypse.

“I speak only when necessary. The conversations I have with myself are infinitely more intellectually invigorating…” Gunnar scowled with his one eye.

Indie smiled weakly, patting Grimm on the neck. “Easy, old one. No harm…” her voice was like velvet, but she looked on the verge of collapse, with now prominent dark rings under her eyes. Grimm began to relax, flicking his mane of feathers before suddenly going rigid and kneeling to the ground so fast he practically fell down.

Then Indie folded, eyes rolling back in her head as she fell from Grimm’s back. Gunnar caught her, barely.

He was closer, that was all. And he had been in my way. Still, a small part of me muttered dark thoughts as I saw the giant almost naked man catch and curl up around my fiancé. At least he was wearing some form of spandex biker shorts or something. Anything was better than that time I had caught him in Underdog underwear.

Look, Gunnar was infatuated with Ashley, and even without her, he would never do anything untoward. But…

He was different now. And he was holding my fiancé. With his ridiculous muscles and bulletproof beard.

I shook off the dark thoughts, telling myself it was simply because I was afraid of why she had passed out in the first place.

Gunnar stood with ease, turning to face me, and I froze. The front of his boxer-briefs was a giant wolf’s head, with the nose directly where his… look, use your imagination.

“Really?” His face flashed red as he glanced down at himself. I held out my arms for him to hand Indie over. I very pointedly didn’t look at his package, which was almost impossible due to the emphasis of the wolf snout. Jesus…

“Ashley likes them,” he muttered defensively, carrying her over towards me. He took a big whiff of Indie, eye squinted in thought. “She smells healthy. Pulse normal. Temperature normal. I think she’s just exhausted. Or perhaps that drink has lingering effects?” He added as an afterthought, face suddenly tightening as he no doubt worried for Ashley.

I nodded. “Don’t worry. Ashley’s probably fine. She’s a werewolf now. Stronger than she used to be. You don’t need to be as paranoid about her safety as you once were.”

Gunnar nodded, handing Indie over to my arms. “Right. Because she was attacked by a werewolf… while I was helping you…” The words weren’t meant as an attack, but the undertone was heavy, underlining our earlier conversation.

I ignored it, adjusting Indie’s weight. “Let’s go. And put on some damn clothes to cover that up. You look ridiculous.” He grumbled something under his breath, opening up the drawstring backpack he carried with him at all times to withdraw a change of clothes. “Oh, and grab my bow too.”

Indie stirred, eyes drifting open in a weak flutter. “I just wanted… answers. To… whatever it is that happened last night…”

“Indie, you are wanted for questioning as a murder suspect, or very close to it. You can’t just go traipsing about at random.”

She smiled weakly. “I didn’t. I was… hidden…” She took a slow breath, voice growing fainter. “Don’t… don’t pretend you saw me, Maker… My Maker…” and her head lolled to the side, curling into my chest with a soft whimper.

I glanced at Grimm. “And why exactly did you let her talk you into this?”

He nickered back. “She’s safe with me…” he said cryptically.

I hesitated, thinking about that. “You’re right. She didn’t shift. Can you help her control her powers?”

“If the situation requires it.” I frowned. “Sometimes the situation may require the opposite. I’ll be there for her then, also.” I nodded, resuming my stride. He followed me beside Gunnar as we headed back to the car.

“Was the invisible thing you or her?”

“Me, but in time, she will be able to also.” I remembered the sensation of eyes on my back as we walked, and having chalked it up to nature being nature, had ignored it. Then when the three evil musketeers had appeared, I had assumed my senses had been picking up on one or all of them. I hadn’t suspected Indie.

Which was actually incredible.

“Thanks, Grimm.” He shook his head. After a few steps, I called over my shoulder. “When you guys are talking to each other, do you call each other Grimm at every opportunity? Because I totally would.”

There was no answer. I glanced back, and noticed that Grimm was simply gone. Gunnar merely shrugged. After a few minutes, Gunnar spoke. “I’m out, Nate. Done hunting, and done with whatever craziness you have going on. I’ve got my hands full.”

I looked at him. “Yeah. Especially since it’s a full moon soon. Ashley have plans?” Gunnar looked thoughtful, and none too pleased.

Gunnar didn’t want to get involved. I understood that, but it seemed Van really had an interest in him. And I could use the help. But only if absolutely necessary. “You know, I’ve got a good thing now. Ashley. The Pack. Have you ever considered that you are the chaos factor?”

“That’s ridiculous,” I argued over my shoulder. Then, remembering his underwear, I smiled to myself. “By the way, Indie got Ashley something. She should have gotten it in the mail by now.”

Gunnar chuckled. “Yeah. My werewolf wears Underoos panties,” he chuckled. “Ashley liked ‘em.” I nodded, glad I had moved the topic to more mundane conversation. But Gunnar wasn’t so easily distracted. He increased his pace until he was walking beside me. “It doesn’t change anything, Nate. I’ve got other things going on. You’ve got Alucard to help you out now. Last time I helped you out, I lost an eye,” he added drily.

I would have thrown up my arms if I hadn’t been holding Indie. “But this is totally unrelated! The Grimms were after you just as much as me.” Gunnar arched an eyebrow. “Okay, fine. They were after you a bit less intently than me.”

He nodded, smiling at my admission of the truth. “I need to find out what the hell this book is. Why they all want it.”

“Ask Pandora,” he answered casually.

I blinked. Then I nodded at him. “Bros.” He smiled back, rolling his eye.

“Even though you aren’t getting involved, I would be on the lookout for the Volkswagen.” A confused look painted his face. “I refuse to call him by his rightful name.”

“Oh, Van Helsing.” Gunnar nodded, eye tightening. He stroked his beard with a meaty hand. “I’ll be waiting for him with open arms… as will my pack.”

I chuckled at the mental image. Now, off to see Pandora…

And my parents’ ghosts.

Chapter 22

Indie had slept the whole way home to Chateau Falco, and she was now tucked away in bed, still sleeping like the dead. She had darker rings under her eyes now, and her breathing seemed more labored than normal. Maybe she was coming down with a cold or something. I sat in my office, tapping my lips as I waited for Alucard to show up. He was picking up Misha’s daughters, the troublesome duo I had nicknamed The Reds. We had an appointment later and I wanted them close by. I found myself fidgeting with the strap to my satchel beside the chair.

Because I kept thinking about the black book sitting inside.

Through the Looking-Glass.

After much debating, I finally poured a severely watered-down whisky since I didn’t want to bring any monsters to life. I settled into the chair, smiling as I successfully counted to ten without looking at the book. I did it five times, with only a quick peek between each, and then finally convinced myself that I had overcome the urge, and that this was merely the next step in the process now.

Check the back of the book for a reply.

Which was ridiculous to say aloud.

But… in my world, one never truly knew what was possible and what was not.

I opened the book, and slowly flipped to the back. I took a deep breath, and flipped over the page to reveal the comment I had jotted down last night.

And I almost threw it across the room, burning it to ashes on the way for good measure. But I didn’t. My fingers were locked onto the book as if held rigid with fear, as I read the four words.

Are you really there?

I shivered, shaking my head too quickly. “No, no, no…” The possibilities raced through my mind like a dealer shuffling cards. Was the book possessed by some Demon or supernatural creature? Was it a prank from someone in the household? I hadn’t locked it up, so it was possible that Alucard had done it to be funny.

But deep down I knew the truth.

The Ginger I had briefly seen on the other side had responded. And he wanted to know if I was real. What a find this had been. My instincts had been spot on. But… who was the Ginger, really? A retired God? A creature? A demon? Or… God, capital G, perhaps?

That made me shiver, but I squinted at my hubris. God didn’t personally text with mortals, even if this wasn’t really texting. And I was almost completely confident that God didn’t sound schizophrenic or helpless like the brief messages the man had written in the book.

To be sure, I needed to quiz Alucard about playing a prank. Typically, pranks were fun.

But something like this? Not funny. It was actually reality altering, so I needed to be sure. Or… I could just write another message, and lock up the book where only I could get it. If a response came back I would know that it was indeed the Ginger. Or some other person coincidentally using this book as a twin message board of some kind. I wasn’t even sure how the magic for that would work. But it was possible. Just because I had a response didn’t mean that the person responding was the Ginger.

I needed to ask my new pen pal a question only someone from the White Room could answer properly. And then lock up the book where only I could access it.

And then wait…

I scrunched my eyebrows, came up with a short reply, and jotted it down.

What else did I accidentally stain?

I closed the book loudly and strode over to my secret safe. One that Dean didn’t even know I had installed in the small personal bookshelf built into the very wall behind my desk. I removed the books from the shelf to reveal the wooden backing, then pressed a button concealed on another shelf entirely. The backing whisked open on invisible hinges to reveal a combination dial.

I opened the safe, tucked the book inside between a few vials and a pair of amulets I had secreted from the Grimms after our battle. I had other spares stashed around the house. There had been a dozen of the bastards, and although I had told everyone I buried them, I hadn’t been comfortable leaving items so dangerous only six feet underground. In case Indie ever lost hers, I told myself. I closed the door, spun the dial, and returned everything to its rightful place, stepping back to assess my work.

I would know if anyone came to peek. I had it monitored… both magically and with video surveillance. I heard voices from down the hall. Alucard had picked up the Reds, and it was time to go see Pandora.

Chapter 23

I bravely endured the topic of weddings, gowns, decorations, reception venue, and all that other fun stuff with my mother. Her ideas and advice were endless. But without Indie beside me I felt overwhelmed. I sighed.

“I’m sorry, am I keeping you from something?” My mother said in the tone that only a mother can. I shook my head as Alucard disguised his laugh as a cough. He leaned against the sandstone wall, discreetly studying Pandora. Well, checking her out would have been more accurate, but no one was supposed to know that.

“No, it’s not that. I’m…” I quested for words. “I’m just worried about her.”

My dad was entertaining Misha’s daughters, the recently-orphaned red dragons, after their mother had died fighting the Grimms. Alucard had picked them up from Soccer practice to meet me here. We had an appointment later, and I figured they would enjoy seeing Pandora and hanging out with Uncle Alucard for a while.

The two girls were tall and lanky, and their red hair shone like living fire, their piercing eyes watching my father intently as he spoke. The three were as thick as thieves whenever I let them be. My father seemed just as fascinated with them – weredragons – as they were with him and his stories. The two girls currently wore contacts, or their irises would have been a solid red with horizontal pupils.

Kind of noticeable. Hence the need for contacts.

I had dubbed them The Reds, but their names were Sonya and Aria.

Pandora sat on a stool, ignoring everyone as she concentrated way too hard on painting her nails. My mother had been catching her up to date on beauty trends for the last century or so. She had chosen hot pink. And she had zero artistic skill. I guess they never taught the Greeks how to color inside the lines.

My dad came over, catching the last comment I had made. The Reds trailed him like two lost puppies. “Grimm business?”

I nodded, and my mother stood to herd The Reds off further into the Armory, leaving the adults to talk in private. I turned to my dad. “Kind of. I’m not really sure. You know about her control issues.” He nodded. “Well, she is still trying to get that mastered, but she’s been exhausted lately. Passed out last night after a stressful set of events, and then a similar situation today. She looks… I don’t know, like she’s coming down with the flu or something.” I very carefully worded my answer. They didn’t need to know about my new friends, the murderous immortals. I needed to talk to Pandora about that.

My dad smiled, no doubt attributing my concern as simple love for a partner.

But I was pretty sure it was more than that. Indie had been dealing with the Grimm issues for a while. But she had never looked sickly. Then again, maybe she was just catching that nefarious flu virus, and I was being an overly sensitive groom-to-be. I sighed, deciding to simply keep an eye on her and maybe pick up some medicine if it worsened.

“Sparks. Embers. Racing through the streets like snakes. Death and destruction in their wake…” Pandora chanted like a nursery rhyme under her breath. The hair on my arms pebbled in gooseflesh. Hell of a nursery rhyme. We turned to look at her, but she was paying absolutely no attention to us. She wore typical Greek garb, a light fabric toga of sorts, leaving one dainty shoulder bare. A large pin with a symbol I didn’t recognize adorned her other shoulder, keeping her outfit in place. She seemed to sense our combined attention and looked up. She beamed brightly, flashing us a dazzling smile. “Look! What do you think?” She promptly stood up, smearing her nail polish all over the chair and the skin of her toes as she hadn’t allowed it to dry. She didn’t even notice. My mother’s lips tightened in disapproval from across the room.

“Great job,” Alucard smiled. I rolled my eyes at him.

“What were you saying, Hope?” I asked her, using the nickname I had given her.

“Hmm?” she murmured, spinning in a circle as she finally looked down at her feet and noticed the mess. “Oh bother. I’ll have to redo them…” She finally looked up at me, cocking her head to the side. “Have you followed the trails of fire? The sparks of madness? The embers of chaos?” She asked conversationally.

My dad froze so abruptly that he might as well have screamed. My mother was standing now, staring at Hope in horror.

I glanced at them, and then Pandora. “I beg your pardon?”

She blinked back, then shrugged. “Well, if you don’t know what I’m speaking of, then I’m sure you don’t need to worry about anything.” She skipped from the room on her toes as I turned to face my dad.

“What the hell was she talking about?”

His face was ashen. “I’m sure it’s nothing, son,” my father began.

“Not good enough.” I leaned forward intently. “Tell me.”

My father sighed, glanced at my mother, and then turned back to me, finding no assistance in her startled face. He steeled his features, more of his usual Type A personality reasserting itself. “Truly. If she says it’s nothing to worry about, you don’t need to worry about it. I will tell you in due time. It’s a dark story. But this should be a time of celebration. You don’t need to hear this yet.” I began to argue, but he held up a finger. “Nate, listen. If I had any concern about her warning being time-sensitive, I would tell you right now. Seeing as how it’s not, I don’t want to bring anything else onto your plate. You need to take care of Indie, and by the looks of your face when you got here, you didn’t come here to talk wedding cakes. What troubles you?”

Pandora chose that moment to return with a wet rag. She plopped down on her chair, and muttered a curse under her breath as the flesh above her heel caught on a splinter, drawing blood. She hesitated upon seeing the small cut, then pensively placed her thumb on the tiny drop, rubbing her finger in small circles as her eyes grew distant. She murmured a small chant under her breath, almost like a prayer. I blinked as I recognized one word.

“Achilles…” I repeated. She startled, glancing up at me.

“I didn’t realize I had spoken aloud,” she said softly.

I hesitated for a moment before answering, watching the look on her face carefully. “He asked to see you.”

She looked up sharply, mouth open but no words coming out. Alucard shifted his weight against the wall, watching us intently. “You befriended Achilles?”

I nodded. “Yes. I… well, I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but respected acquaintances.”

She smiled in amusement. “Yes, Achilles only had one friend.”

“Patroclus,” I replied.

She nodded sadly, but I could have sworn I caught a brief flicker of something darker. “Well, several others were close to him, but I’m not sure he ever let anyone else that close after Patroclus.” Her eyes grew distant again. “Of course, after his… well, death,” she smiled, obviously alluding to the fact that he hadn’t really died, “he grew quite distant, leaving Greece entirely. I saw him once after…” her eyes faded into memory. “I would very much like to see him again.”

“Of course… I’ll set up a time.”

My mother clapped softly, nudging my father with her knee in excitement. After all, she would by default get to meet him, too. Which they obviously never had done, despite Achilles living in our home town of St. Louis. I thought about that for a moment before glancing at my father. “Do you find it odd that St. Louis is so popular? It seems like all the legends retire here.”

He nodded. “St. Louis, the Gateway to the world…” he responded with a shrug.

Which seemed like an elusive answer to me, but I left it alone.

I turned back to Pandora. “Hope, should I be concerned about bringing him here? To the Armory? He is, after all, a renowned warrior, and this place is full of weapons, a lot of them Greek. Even though he’s currently under some mysterious obligation not to interact with our world for some reason.”

She frowned at that, but didn’t comment on it. “As your custodian here, I must be entirely honest with you. Anyone you ever bring here is a risk.” She glanced pointedly at Alucard, who straightened instinctively, his mouth closing with a click. She turned up the wow factor on her smile for a moment, and he practically lifted off the ground, hopelessly mired in one of the L words: Lust, Love, or Like. Her eyes briefly roved over the Reds, but they were too busy talking to themselves to notice our attention.

Pandora continued. “Anyone granted access by you has your express permission to be here as if it were their own home… which means they could… borrow any item at their leisure. If you grant them their own access, they wouldn’t even need your accompaniment to do so. The Armory would allow them to enter and exit of their own free will, borrowing as they saw fit. I do not advise granting anyone solo access. Regardless of how much you trust them. They could always be coerced at a later point, and by effect, forced to take something from the Armory against their own volition. Extorted, I think you call it. It could spread like wildfire.” I shivered at the thought. Frightening to say the least. Not that I knew how to grant anyone solo access, but I definitely would not be researching it anytime soon now.

“But to answer your question in a more personal manner, Achilles is the most honorable man I’ve ever encountered. He was born and raised in a time where a man’s word was all he had. Well, that and his spear and shield,” she winked. “But even among his peers with the same upbringing, he stood like a Titan. He is of no threat to you or the Armory. His honor forbids him from deceit. You can trust him. He will never lie.” She grinned. “Just be sure to get him to openly say what he will or will not be allowed to do. If he says it, he will not deviate. Ever. But he can be rather sneaky,” she winked.

I nodded, a slight tension leaving my shoulders. That was a relief. I was understandably paranoid about bringing anyone here. But then again, bringing these two old friends together would benefit me in both the short and long term. Achilles would remember what I had done for him, despite the risks to myself. And Pandora would have an old friend to talk to after such a long separation from the world. I actually felt good about this. Doing something right without blowing anything up or picking a fight.

“Is that why the Grimms were unable to take anything? Because they didn’t have my permission?”

She frowned thoughtfully. “In a way…” I leaned forward, catching the educational tone as she spoke. I was eager to understand more about the Armory so that I could better protect it. “They were merely passing through.” I frowned. Seeing my reaction, she scrunched her eyebrows together and placed a dainty palm on her temples. “Let’s see. How do I describe this…?” She slapped her thigh after a moment, nodding to herself. “Okay. The Grimms went on a stroll through a valley that temporarily existed inside the Armory. They were able to look to the sides and see the Armory, but it was a vision, not corporeal. It was a gateway to the Dark World.” She shivered at mention of their domain.

“I needn’t fear the rest coming back and taking anything? Creating another gateway from this… Dark World?” I added. She snapped her fingers, nodding.

“That gateway is closed, but there is always the possibility. However, they would not be able to touch or take anything.”

Which was a huge relief. Kind of. I leaned back, thumbing the stubble on my chin. “What is this Dark World?” I asked her, having never heard of it before. Hell, I had seen it, but I hadn’t realized it was important enough to have a name of its own. That irked me. I considered myself fairly knowledgeable on all things spooky. I glanced at my parents, but they were watching Pandora with interest, so they hadn’t heard of it either.

“I… I would rather not speak of it. I would prefer you do the same. Speaking of it here… I can’t be confident that doing so wouldn’t attract them. Their brothers already used this place once. Speaking of their world could possibly weaken the defenses again, or light a signal fire for them to see. And from what we’ve discussed, there are many more left behind than you faced before.”

I hadn’t thought about that. It was akin to summoning someone. Using their True Name three times was practically a bullhorn. It made sense that a place could be the same. I nodded at her. “Okay. I’ve just never heard of it before.”

She looked uncomfortable, so I dropped it.

I decided to do a bit more probing, not wanting to strike out again. “Have you ever read Through the Looking-Glass,” I asked my dad.

He nodded. “Fun story.”

I nodded. “I just picked up an old copy of the book for my personal collection.” He smiled absently, glancing off at the Reds as their voices rose for a moment. “Black leather embossed cover,” I began to describe it, figuring he would know if there was anything special about it.

He froze, and slapped his hands down onto his knees.

“Lock it up. Put it in here if you must,” a disgusted look flickered across his features at that thought, “Just Don’t. Touch. That. Book.”

I must have looked guilty. He leaned forward. “Nate, listen. Whatever you’ve already done is water under the bridge. Lock that thing up. Now. Your sanity depends on it.”

“O… okay.” I replied dumbly, feeling very foolish all of a sudden. “I take it you know what it is then? About the… White-”

He held up a hand, attempting to silence me. “Do not speak it!” He shouted.

The Reds silenced instantly, and Alucard grunted in surprise. My dad was a pretty calm guy, and it was entirely out of character for him to get so worked up about anything. I nodded slowly, letting him see I was paying attention. “Do not speak of that place. Especially not here, but not anywhere, or with anyone you care about.”

“Anyone I care about?”

My dad nodded. “Dangerous. Beyond dangerous. On my grave, leave it alone. Please…”

It was hard not to admit what I had done, but after that warning, I didn’t know what he would do. And surely there was no harm in one comment scribbled on a page in a book.

Right?

I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay. Let’s talk about something else.” I did have one other thing I wanted to ask him. It had been bothering me for quite some time, but I had been too busy to bring it up before. He was nodding eagerly, relieved to change the topic. “When I encountered Jacob Grimm, he seemed to be entirely too comfortable with the layout of Chateau Falco. I don’t know how, but he knew passages that even I had never seen or used. Do you have blueprints stashed somewhere that I could peruse to make sure everything is buttoned up?”

He shook his head with a concerned frown. I hadn’t ever told him about it, instead brushing over the specifics of the battle. After all, I had been in a dark place following the fight with the Grimms. Indie had died. Then come back again after my period of mourning. It had messed me up pretty badly, and I had capitalized on our renewed future with zeal. “No. I never needed them. I had thought my father showed me all of her secrets. And I have shared all I know with you. I wouldn’t have thought an old pile could have any more secrets…” his face grew more concerned as he spoke. He opened his mouth to throw down some fatherly advice, but I saw the look a mile away, flashing a smile at him as I interrupted.

“Yep. I’m on it. I’ll do some digging. Maybe even swing by the courthouse to see if I can get the official record or something.” I thought about Othello, and wondered if her skills would be of any use in finding such an old document. I doubted it had been scanned online anywhere. Probably buried in a dusty filing cabinet.

Alucard cleared his throat, tapping his wrist pointedly. I jumped to my feet. “Crap. Almost forgot. We have a meeting to get to.” Alucard rushed over to the Reds, practically pulling them to their feet. Pandora watched him like a cat watching a mouse.

“I’ll see you guys soon. Don’t give Hope any lip while I’m gone. She’s the boss,” I winked at her and she smiled back. I was turning away when something on a table caught my eye. I casually called over my shoulder as I walked past it, asking her what it was.

“A Binder,” she answered, then continued on into a very specific description of what it did, who had used it, and any other notable facts about its history. It sounded useful, especially after Pandora’s warning about Achilles’ visit, but I steeled my resolve. I shrugged and continued on, having never heard of it before. Then again, I really hadn’t taken the time to catalog everything in the Armory. After all, temptation was a very real concern. The things locked up in here had been placed here for a reason. I didn’t want to dig too deep into the inventory and convince myself that this or that would be handy to have around the house. These things needed to stay locked up. They were safer here.

“And what is so important that it trumps girl talk?” My mother called out from behind us as we neared the exit.

I slapped my palm lightly on the giant wooden door, and it began to slowly swing open, responding to the contact of my flesh and the blood beneath it. “Parent Teacher Conference,” I yelled back, then quickly darted through the door before I could hear her surprised squawk.

Alucard shook his head in amusement, but he was the only one. The Reds now looked like they were walking the plank, or on Death Row, which made me very interested to see exactly what they were afraid of us finding out.

One thing was certain though.

Tory was going to be pissed that I was late.

Chapter 24

I had dropped off Alucard at Plato’s Cave only to find Tory impatiently leaning against the brick wall, tapping her foot in a steady beat and glaring at me. The Reds chuckled in the backseat. I turned to glare at them as Tory approached the passenger door. “Hey, cool it. You know I’m going to just blame you two anyway.” Aria and Sonya smirked back. They were basically twins, and their fiery red hair would have gotten them thrown into a river or burned at the stake a few hundred years ago.

Superstition was like that. Suffer not a witch to live…

I grinned back, admiring the women they would become. They looked so much like their mother, Misha, the red dragon who had guarded Raego for the last year or so. But now Misha was gone.

Thanks to the Grimms.

And me.

I hid my emotion as Tory opened the door. Tory had been Misha’s lover, and was now the Reds’ surrogate mother with her gone. Sure, the girls had plenty of people to watch them between the other dragons at Raego’s compound, Indie and I at Chateau Falco, and Gunnar and Ashley at the werewolf apartments. But Tory seemed to take it as a personal duty, an honor guard, and was never far from their side. I had been amazed that she had let me take them to the Armory in the first place, but she hadn’t wanted to run into Indie.

Any sign of love just seemed to twist inside her like a knife. She wasn’t hateful to us or anything, but her wounds were still fresh. Her lover had been murdered. As had Indie. But then…

Indie had come back. And Misha hadn’t. Which had to have messed with her head on so many levels that I was amazed she even wanted to ever see us again.

She climbed into the seat, arching an eyebrow at me to silently demand an explanation. I opened my mouth, but the Reds piped up behind me. “Nate and Alucard were flirting with Hope.” They said in unison, obviously choreographed.

I shot them a quick glare. “I wasn’t flirting. I was asking her about Achilles. Alucard was the one with his jaw on the floor the whole time,” I defended myself.

Tory merely shook her head, but I sensed a small smile behind her façade.

“Let’s do this,” I said, pulling out into traffic.

We drove in silence for a time, the girls in the backseat whispering softly to one another. Tory finally spoke. “Thanks, Nate. For doing this. And for watching them for a while.”

I shrugged. “My pleasure. I know Raego can be a bit… unpredictable at times, and with his father issues, he probably has no idea how to act in these kinds of situations. Plus,” I smiled at her, “I want to hear what kind of trouble they get into when we’re not around.” I said the last loud enough for the two in back to hear me. I could tell I was successful because their whispers halted, then picked back up again even softer.

Tory smiled weakly and shook her head in resignation. “Hopefully not too much trouble.” Their whispers began to grow more urgent, and even quieter. Tory winked back at me, folding her arms. We drove in silence for a time before she spoke again. “I want to… apologize for being off my game lately,” she began. “It’s just that-”

I held up a hand. “Please, don’t. We went through hell a few months back We thought we were all going to die. We went to a dark place…” I swallowed tightly, “And not all of us came back. I feel like hell about the whole thing. But without you… without… her, none of us would be here. I’m confident of that. If any one of us had been out of the equation, none of us would have made it out alive.” Tory opened her mouth a few times to speak, but nothing came out. “And those two would have no one…” I finished in a barely audible whisper.

The passenger seat was silent, and as I risked a discreet glance, I noticed that her eyes were glassy, and she was using everything she had to keep her pain bottled up inside so the girls couldn’t see. They were too busy coming up with whatever scheme they had lined up to get them out of trouble after the upcoming teacher’s meeting. I was sure of it.

I had been in their exact position many times, and now that I was looking in on it from the other side, it was hilariously obvious what they were doing. Surely, I hadn’t been that obvious, had I? As kids, we think ourselves so clever, but as parents, we simply sit back and watch with amusement as the children mimic what we did as children, and we know every single trick.

It made me wonder if my parents had seen through it all too. And if it was simply part of growing up. Letting your kid build confidence. Fall. Get back up. Learn.

You know. Life stuff.

And I wasn’t even a parent yet.

I placed a palm on Tory’s shoulder. “None of that is supposed to make you feel any better. Nothing will. Except time. But now you have two beautiful, troublesome young girls, just like their mother, to carry your burden.” Tory let slip a small sob, but the girls in back still hadn’t noticed. Or at least hadn’t let on that they had heard.

“Which brings up a point… I’m not their mother, and you’re not their father… and we’re going to their Parent-Teacher’s Meeting.” I nodded, but said nothing. “So, they probably aren’t going to want to give us any information. Do they even know what happened?” She asked softly.

“Yes. She was in a horrible car accident.”

Tory glanced at me. “I see.” Her fingers were clenching the door handle, and I cleared my throat. She looked at me, and I nodded my head at her fingers. She glanced down, and slowly pried them free of the plastic, where they had embedded themselves, damaging the door. “Sorry.” I just smiled, shrugging lightly. We were pulling up to the school, a giant brick building that looked to have been erected around World War II. “I’m serious, Nate. We need to come up with something that legally allows us to do this. Sooner or later someone is going to demand answers of some kind. I don’t have a job, and I can’t exactly prove that I have any reason whatsoever to adopt them anyway.”

“I know. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. Later.” She stared into my eyes, looking both frightened and territorial of the girls.

My phone rang. I glanced down at it as I pulled into park. “Jeffries,” I answered. Tory straightened her hair in the mirror, and then corralled the girls out of the car as I listened to him speak.

“No leads? At all?”

“None. Well, except for Indie.”

“Damn it. She’s going to have to talk to them at some point. I just don’t know what she should say. She didn’t do anything. She doesn’t remember… much that’s useful,” I carefully corrected, remembering that Indie had told Jeffries she had seen a strange man there. “And everyone else has been accounted for?” I asked hopefully.

“Yes.”

I sighed in frustration, having hoped one other person had survived. Because that person would have been the murderer. Or the thief. Or both. “Okay. The problem is, after the Grimm ordeal, she’s a loose cannon. What if there is some closet freak at the office, or worse yet, in the interrogation room?”

Jeffries grunted. “I know.” The line was silent for a few beats. “Perhaps I can arrange for myself and another agent to come around the shop to talk with her. She is, after all, the only survivor, according to the log book from the auction house that night. It will seem less confrontational that way, and I could also vouch that my partner will not be a freak.” I thought about it.

“I won’t be able to be there. None of us will. Being around us, and stressed out, could mess with her control.”

“Yes,” Jeffries answered begrudgingly. “But it’s the best way I can think of.”

“I’m a little tied up right now. Why don’t you call her and see what she says? I haven’t seen her for some time though…”

“Be sure that you do… And please… no tricks, Nate. Not with this.”

“I won’t,” I answered honestly. “I’ll let Indie handle it, but just beware of the risks.”

He grunted. “I’ll call her.”

“Thanks,” I answered, hanging up.

I was going to let Indie handle it alright, and I hoped to hell that her lying ability could get her out of their crosshairs.

Chapter 25

I jogged up to the school entrance, briefcase steadily thumping into my thigh. Tory was standing on the lawn while the girls stood off to the side, trying to look cool in case any of their fellow classmates saw them. Tory’s hand rested on the bark of a tree, and she was sobbing lightly, almost softly enough for me not to notice, but her eyes were too moist for it to be anything else.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping up beside her.

She startled, glancing up at me in surprise. “I…” Her hand rose to her cheeks. She looked confused. “I don’t know…”

I frowned at her reaction. “Are you going to be okay?” I pressed.

She took a deep breath. “Yes. I just… I thought I heard something. It’s nothing.” She shook her head, shooting a quick glance to make sure the girls were still present. She looked surprised that they were standing off to the side and not next to her, as if she didn’t recall them walking away from her. It made me nervous. Had she just blacked out or something? How bad was her depression?

Before I could push her, she began walking towards the girls with purposeful strides. I glanced at the tree thoughtfully and blinked. Where her hand had rested was a single leaf. Tiny, but vibrant. I heard her call my name so I quickly jogged over to her, ignoring the anomaly.

“What was that phone call about?” She asked, changing the subject.

“Work stuff. It’s fine.” I wasn’t about to get her involved in any more of my problems. The Reds led us down the hall, nodding like prison inmates at fellow students as we passed by packs of families pocketed together here and there. We finally reached their classroom. The two stood outside the door, glanced at each other with hopeless looks, and then opened the door. We were only a few minutes late, according to a quick glance at my watch. A father was standing beside the desk, growling in low tones at the teacher, who looked extremely uncomfortable, her face red.

Before I realized it, I had crossed the distance, and was tapping the man on his shoulder. “Easy, pal.” I murmured, so only we and the teacher could hear. I had assumed he was hunched over, but as he turned to face me, I realized that he was just a little guy.

He rounded on me, full of piss and vinegar at my interruption.

And the stars aligned. There truly was a God. A helpless grin split my face.

“You!” He spat in disbelief.

“Me.” I replied, grinning at former Detective Kosage.

“What are you doing here?” He stammered in barely restrained fury, as if unable to decide whether to be pissed off or embarrassed. My guess was both.

I dipped my head at the teacher. “Appointment.” His mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out. “I think you were just finished. And about to leave,” I warned, leaning closer. The teacher looked mortified, and confused.

“Kyle!”

“Yeah?” An arrogant voice replied from the back of the room. I glanced over to see an equally short, but pudgy kid staring at us. He had a buzz cut and looked to enjoy tearing the wings off of butterflies in his spare time. He shambled over, like every worthless, too-cool teen hard case.

“Time to go.”

“But-”

“Now!” Kosage’s face purpled as he grasped the kid by the upper arm and chicken-walked him out the door, shooting one last hateful glare my way. Then he slammed the door. I glanced to Tory, who was shaking her head with a small grin. The girls were in the back of the room, watching me thoughtfully as they sat before a table, a forgotten tablet flashing the lights of some current game at them. Everyone in the room was watching me, and it was deathly silent.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “You okay, Nate?” Tory whispered.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. It’s just that… well, Christmas comes early every now and then. I’m cherishing the moment.” I opened my eyes, smiled, brushed my hands together significantly as if cleaning dirt off of them. “So, let’s chat,” I said to the teacher.

The teacher blinked at me. “Who are you?” She glanced pointedly from the girls in the back of the room to Tory. Then me. Eyes narrowing.

I reached into my briefcase, plucked out a folder, and tossed it gently on her desk. “We’re the guardians. Well, Tory here is, anyway. I’m her muscle.” Tory let out a laugh at the irony. Tory could have picked up the desk without my assistance and slammed it into the wall without taking a deep breath. The teacher blinked at us, then blindly reached for the folder as her eyes quickly darted to the girls in the back of the classroom, who were desperately trying to become invisible as their doom unfolded. It was enough to almost make me smile.

I wondered what they were so terrified about.

The teacher was intently pouring through the documents, and Tory looked just as interested. I gave her a few minutes to read through it, ignoring Tory’s questioning glares. I hadn’t told her yet. The little things made me happy.

“Well, it appears everything is in order,” she finally said, looking thoughtful.

“How have they been doing?”

The teacher leaned back, steepling her fingers. “They… are a curious pair. Never leave each other’s side. They seem perfectly content to remain separated from group projects, always choosing each other over others. When forced to work with others they do absolutely nothing.” She didn’t look happy, and seemed to be waiting for us to say something. I sent a flick of power at Tory, placing slight pressure on her thigh. She flinched slightly, glanced at my face and saw my eyes. She got the hint and said nothing. The teacher sighed. “But when allowed to work together they earn top marks.”

I smiled. “That is great to hear. Well, if that is all, I guess we’ll be leaving.”

The teacher leaned forward, shaking her head. “No, that is not all. There have been instances in the recent weeks of… well, hyper violence.” I frowned.

“Excuse me?” Tory said.

The teacher was nodding. “Yes. I never got the full story, as no one would share all the details, but I got enough pieces to put a picture together. The students were in the hall and Sonya was being teased, as children often do to each other. But… never being far apart from each other, Aria noticed. The stories I heard next are varied, but Aria apparently did something to the bully that terrified the boy so badly that he wouldn’t cooperate for a week, staring off into space, and flinching whenever anyone talked to him. Aria asked to partner with him on every single project after that.” She looked troubled. “I don’t tolerate bullies, but whatever she did apparently turned over a new leaf in an otherwise problem case. He has been one of our top students lately, and regularly assists Aria or Sonya with anything they need. He can be seen regularly following behind them in the halls, almost like a tiny bodyguard… not that they need one, it seems.”

“So…”

“It’s intriguing. I do not tolerate physical or mental violence, but at the same time, whatever she did likely turned that child around entirely. Although, he did have to receive counseling for a week. Not that he ever said anything to the counselor.”

A nervous shiver crept down my spine. I hoped that didn’t mean that Aria’s mental manipulation magic was maturing, and that she had coerced him with her weredragon abilities.

“Everyone gives the two a wide berth now. A respectful, but fearful berth. It’s an interesting dynamic.”

“I’m confused,” Tory finally replied. “Are there any problems with them?”

The teacher turned from Tory to me, and finally shrugged. “I was simply hoping that you could shed some light on their attitudes, and maybe speak with them about, well, whatever it was that they did. On one hand, I’m thankful. But on the other hand, …I’m not sure if they used terror to achieve their ends or what. I’ve heard that Aria beat the boy senseless, that she simply stared at him, that she said some dark whispered words, and everything in between. It’s more about their attitudes. I don’t want them using this as some sort of foundation to learn that the ends justify the means. Does that make sense?”

I nodded. “We’ll talk with them about that. But honestly, it sounds like it was a win for everyone.”

The teacher simply stared distractedly at the girls, who were animatedly talking to each other, shooting furtive glances our way every now and then. “I would like to see them participate more in group settings. With the other students. I would hate for them to be outcasts.”

“We’ll speak to them about that also, but…” I leaned forward. “I’ll be entirely honest. I don’t necessarily see that as a problem. If they function well, do their work, don’t cause problems, and earn top grades… I don’t see a need for them to learn to function in group settings.”

The teacher was shaking her head. “It will be a pillar of their education for years to come. Working in groups. Learning to cooperate with others on various projects.”

“Well, I hated group projects in school also. I did worse than you’ve told me today, and I turned out alright.”

“I understand, but other teachers in the future may require them to do so.”

“Well, we can cross that bridge when we come to it. But… there are always other teachers,” I murmured neutrally. She frowned at me, unsure if I had just criticized her or teachers in general. “If there is nothing else?” I asked with a polite smile.

“No, that is all. I would just like them to become more involved with the other students. Of course, every child is different, but the world out there is a dark place. You sometimes have to work with those you may not desire to, and it is a valuable lesson to learn at a young age.” I almost burst out laughing. Boy, did I know the truth to that. “I would also recommend they see the counselor once a month or so. Not any kind of requirement, but simply to open the lines of communication in the event they find that they need an outlet to deal with their mother’s…” she waved her hand sadly, “Accident.”

Tory swallowed forcefully, and nodded her head once.

“We’ll discuss it,” I said, placing a comforting hand on Tory’s shoulder.

The teacher nodded, and glanced down at the papers I had given her. “I’ll be sure to put this in their file.” She glanced up, focusing on my hand on Tory’s shoulder. “Are you two…” she struggled with how to ask her question, but I saved her the trouble.

“Just concerned friends. We were close to their mother, and promised to look after them. Consider us Godparents of a kind. Tory is their primary guardian. I’m more like an Uncle to them. But neither of us are going anywhere. They have many people who adore them. We will watch over them and make sure they are raised in a loving family.”

The teacher looked thoughtful again, but finally nodded. She really had nothing to say anyway. The paperwork was in front of her, with Tory as their adopted mother. I stood, extending a hand. “It’s been a pleasure. Thank you for working with them, and for caring so much about their upbringing and education.” She smiled, nodding as she shook my hand. Tory did the same, and I called out for the girls to join us as we left.

I shot Tory a look, silently urging her not to say anything to the girls. The tension in their shoulders increased dramatically with each silent step as we plunged through the hallways, exited the building, and reached the car. They were practically ready to bolt as we climbed into our seats and put on our seatbelts.

I started the car and backed out. Tory slowly turned to face them. “Anything you want to tell us?” She asked in a flat tone. They began spilling their guts, and we finally got the true story about the altercation, and apparently, several other similar altercations with other students.

My concern increased steadily as they shared, until I finally held up a hand. “Okay, this is Tory’s ground, but I do have a few points I want to make…” They nodded, watching me in the rearview mirror. “You. Are. Freaks.” I enunciated clearly, and coldly. They looked miserable, nodding. “Tory is a freak. I’m a freak. Practically everyone you know outside of school is a freak. You can toss around your magic, shift, and breathe fire to your heart’s content at home. None of us would bat an eye. But at school, you are outcasts. They don’t believe in magic. Which might make you think that you are better than them.”

Aria had a look in her eyes that I knew all too well.

“But that would be foolish to think.” The look evaporated. “Just because you have these abilities does not make you naturally better. Think about Alaric…” They shivered, clutching hands together. “Was he better than the regulars?” They shook their heads.

“He… he was horrible,” Aria finally answered.

“Remember that. Alaric thought that just because he had these gifts, he could beat others over the head with it, and that he was superior to everyone because of it.” I let the silence build a bit. “And I killed him for it.” Tory was watching me with a growing frown, looking like she wanted to interrupt me. I held up a hand, turning the car at an intersection. “Remember, there is always someone better and stronger. What matters is what’s up here,” I tapped my temple.

“And in Nate’s case, that’s not much,” Tory muttered drily.

“Hey, this is my big speech!”

“Get to the point. I don’t think discussing murder quite relates to them bullying a bully.”

“It kind of does.” I glanced at the girls in the mirror. “What you did isn’t necessarily wrong. But I’m cautioning you on drinking too much from that cup. It’s a slippery slope. Always remember why you are doing what you are doing. It’s easy to get lost. When you know that you can use your powers to get what you want, you can very easily find that you are using it for every single situation. You need to use your mind, values, morals. Your power isn’t the be-all, end-all. And for crying out loud, you do not want to make a habit of using your powers in a room full of regulars. What if your eyes had shifted, or you suddenly grew wings?” They looked guilty as hell, making me wonder if they had in fact allowed their eyes to shift to scare other students. “You’re not just doing it for you, but all of us. You do not want to attract attention. It’s why people like us are typically home-schooled in our youth. Until we can get a grip on our powers, so that we don’t cause a panic by using it in public when our emotions get the best of us.” I glanced at Tory. “I’ll leave that up to her, your…” I realized I hadn’t shared the information with them, although they had each separately come to me asking if we could make it a possibility. Tory had done so also. “Your new mother.” I finally said with a sad smile.

The car erupted with shouts of excitement. “You mean…”

I nodded. Tory turned around, her eyes watery as she smiled at the girls. “I will never be Misha, but our shared love for her, our memories…” she trailed off with a small sob. “Will hold us together. I will do my best. I can’t think of anything else I would rather do with my life.”

An estrogen bomb exploded in the car, and everyone began crying, laughing, hugging, and talking all at once. Tory finally unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed into the backseat. I smiled, blinking several times to clear my own vision. Stupid estrogen bombs.

My phone rang and I glanced down at it on the dash. I plucked it up and hit speaker.

“Nate! The Cave is under assault! I’m surrounded!” Alucard bellowed.

The mood in the car abruptly changed. Silence settled over the vehicle like a lead blanket. I slammed on the gas in a panic, hoping I wasn’t too late.

Chapter 26

I skidded the car to an abrupt halt in front of the store, panting in anticipation as I searched for the threat. And saw…

A horde of tiny little girls standing in front of my shop, looking terrified at my abrupt arrival. We piled out of the car, and I scanned the skies, rooftops, alleys, other vehicles, and finally the crowd of frightened children.

A familiar figure emerged from a table near the wall and I blinked.

“What is the meaning of this? You could have hurt someone! Do you always drive like you’re in a high-speed car chase?” The old woman demanded. Then her eyes landed on the Reds behind me. “And with children in the car! What is wrong with you?” She rested ancient arthritic hands on a pair of shoulders of a particularly younger girl, who was crying. “There, there…” she murmured. “I’m here. I’m sure he didn’t mean to frighten you, child.”

She lifted a murderous glare my way and my cheeks reddened.

There were absolutely no threats anywhere.

“Greta…” I finally spoke, addressing the old secretary of my company, Temple Industries. “I’m sorry. I thought there was an emergency here. My manager called me…”

Greta scowled. “You mean that pasty, shadowy man lurking around your store all the time. The one who refuses to speak with anyone, especially me?” Her eyes were ablaze. I nodded as my eyes did one last scan of the streets, finally resting on the table where Greta had been sitting. And I blinked.

Then I began to laugh.

“Oh,” I muttered, shaking my head as I tried to mask my outburst. “Oh, no he didn’t…”

“You’re touched, Nate. You really would feel better after a few visits to our humble church on Sunday. Many nice girls, god-fearing girls who could make you happy. We take care of our own. Perhaps you could find peace with us. Many troubled souls have over the years.” She didn’t say it accusatory, more as a statement of fact.

“I’m engaged, Greta. You know that,” I responded politely, glancing again at the table and the giant poster board decorating it. Cookies for Christ was plastered on the front in children’s handwriting, with various drawings of halos, Angels, crosses, and a Bible decorating the blank spaces where splashes of color and glitter weren’t covering it. “You’re…” I began, shaking my head. “You’re selling cookies. For your church. Outside my shop.”

“The sidewalk is a public space.” Greta argued defensively.

I nodded. “Yeah, okay. That’s fine.” I glanced back at Tory, who was frowning at me. She held up her hands in a what’s going on gesture before placing them back on Aria and Sonya’s shoulders. The Reds looked highly interested in the cookies, less alarmed than they had been when we first arrived ready for battle.

It was… anticlimactic.

“Um, carry on, I guess. Sorry for scaring everyone. I think I need to go talk to my manager about the misunderstanding,” I told Greta, turning towards the door to my shop.

“Let us pray, children.” She didn’t outright say that she was praying for my troubled soul, but she might as well have. There was a pretty obvious reason why out of every street in St. Louis she had chosen mine to sell her cookies. She was adamantly, persistently, trying to convert me to her church.

I had nothing wrong with that, and in fact, felt very humbled that despite her prickly demeanor, Greta cared a great deal about my future. Or she simply thought I was such a bad person that converting me would get her extra brownie points with Saint Peter.

Either way, Alucard’s phone call made perfect sense.

My vampire store manager was surrounded by deadly Christian six-year-olds selling blessed cookies. Oh, boy. As funny as it was, it literally was a problem to him. It was like suddenly being surrounded by a swarm of fire ants after taking an orange juice bath.

I stepped inside to find the store doing a steady business. Almost every single customer clutched a paper sack of cookies with a giant cross on the front. One man stood out in my quick scan. He stood in line for a coffee behind a pair of young girls. But before they could pay, he swooped in, slapped some money on the counter and said something to the barista. The girls giggled, thanked him, and stepped to the side.

Maybe the Christian vibe was bringing out the Good Samaritans?

I glanced up at the loft overhead and saw the blinds snap back into place. Tory came up behind me after ushering the girls to one of the couches, but they kept shooting glances outside where the cookies were, whispering to each other conspiratorially. I nodded at the barista behind the coffee counter, flicking my head at the Reds. The dreadlocked girl nodded with a grin and began whipping up their favorite. Some frozen frappe-latte-mocha-chai something or other. The girls were often found here, lounging away on the couches as Tory helped us move some of the rubble and general demolition work as we had worked on restoring the shop over the last few months. She and Alucard were worth their weight in gold when it came to demolition.

The door to the loft opened ominously, but no one appeared. Tory glanced at me. “What the hell is going on? I thought he was under attack or something,” she asked me softly so no one could overhear.

I smiled at her, pointing discreetly at a bag of cookies a customer was clutching. The cross was prominent on the front. “Cookies?” she asked with a frown.

I shook my head. “Crucifixes.”

She blinked, slowly turned to me, then glanced up at the loft. “Oh…” Then her eyes widened. “Oh!” I nodded, chuckling softly. This would haunt him for years. In fact, I would likely never shut up about it.

“They okay down here for a few minutes?” I asked her.

She nodded, a big smile splitting her cheeks. It was nice to see that on her. She needed more smiles, which was why I had made sure Turner Locke took care of the paperwork for adopting the girls. I hadn’t wanted her worrying about it. The questions lawyers would ask, the paperwork, and all that. I knew how painful it would have been for her to sit and go through all of it, so I had used Turner. Having known about the Grimm ordeal, I didn’t have to explain the situation to him. Which made him the best lawyer in town in my eyes. “Remind me again why you made him your store manager?” Tory murmured, following me up the stairs.

I sighed, shrugging. “I am beginning to ask myself that more and more.”

I reached the door and a pale fist latched onto my shirt, jerking me inside the door. “Inside, you fool!” A voice hissed. I skidded on my heels unable to stop him. Tory followed, eyes cautious at my abrupt disappearance.

“Scared of some cookies, Alucard?”

“Crosses everywhere. Bloody trying to kill me. Holy cookies…” He began muttering under his breath. “You have to get them out of here. Now.”

But I wasn’t listening. I had just had a sickening thought, remembering Baba Yaga’s parting comment. “Cookies…”

And then I heard a scream from outside.

Followed by dozens more.

Chapter 27

I was the first down the stairs, hearing Alucard cursing behind me, arguing about how he had told us cookies were dangerous. Tory simply jumped from the upstairs landing, pounding into the floor below with a thud. Her high-heeled shoes thumped to the floor behind her a second later as I finally reached the ground level. Alucard was suddenly behind me, and people were running around the shop in a panic.

“Everyone, get in the back!” Alucard shouted as my eyes tried to peer through the smoked glass windows and out into the street. Little girls were huddled behind the table, and Greta stood before it, facing the street.

“Nate, what in the hell is going-”

I held out a hand as a voice called out from the street. “Nathaniel… I saved some cookies for you, my dear…” Baba’s matronly voiced called out. My fists flexed in outrage.

Little girls. She was holding little girls hostage to get something from me that I didn’t have.

I decided I’d had about enough of this witch.

I glanced up frantically, searching several key points in the building, hoping to god… or Ganesh, or Buddha, or whoever it was the monks venerated – that the shop had been finished as promised. I spotted several of the planned additions, and muttered under my breath. “Wake. Defend. Protect. Guard…”

“What did you say, Nate?” Tory yelled, trying to be heard over the frantic screams.

The building cracked and several raptor-like screams reverberated off the windows. Bars of solid light shot down from the ceiling above the windows, filling the room with a slight hum as a purple haze seemed to settle over the interior. The screams from inside the building slowed to a murmur as everyone stared, transfixed. I slowly strode to the door, feeling a slight resistance as I raised my hand outwards. I fought it for a second, feeling as if trying to push my hand through wet sand, and then the pressure ceased, and the physical sensation reverted to dry sand, spilling around my hand like a light snow. Tory stared transfixed.

“What the…”

Wham, wham, wham!

Three stone griffins slammed into the floorboards at my feet, one on either side of me and one behind me, inches from Tory. Alucard cursed and Tory jumped back, eyes wide as they flicked from me to the Guardians.

“You didn’t tell me about them in the plans…” Alucard complained, finally recognizing them. I winked.

“I’ll be right back. I think she wants to have a chat. You guys should be safe,” I murmured the last, glancing at the flickering bars of power surrounding the entire interior of the store. I didn’t tell them that the bars of power extended up into the skies as well as into the sewers below. I wasn’t sure exactly how far in either direction. I had shown the monks how they worked, and commanded the Guardians to obey the little guys. I had hopes that the monks’ Feng Shui would be enough juice to give the Guardians the power source to feel like they were back in a home, a place of worship. Which was required for them to function, like they did at Chateau Falco. They needed a home in order to protect.

I glanced back to find that half a dozen other Guardians were pacing around the store, wings and tails flicking about in agitation. The children and the other customers stared in horror until I snapped a finger. Every single Guardian glanced at me over their shoulder, eyes like pools of stone with limitless depths. Then they turned back to their duties. Well, all but two. These two relaxed their threatening posture, made a cooing sound, and began playing with each other, gently. One tackled the other lightly, and began to tickle him. The other griffin Guardian began letting out a giggling, purring sound, and arched its neck back to stare at the nearest child.

If a warrior griffin could smile, apparently only children could see it. The face it made at the child made me suddenly terrified that I had just traumatized the little girl forever, but…

The little girl giggled back.

In response, the griffin ruffled its stone feathers to twice their normal size, and lifted its legs in the air like a dog searching for a belly rub. The girl tentatively crept closer, no longer crying, and with quivering fingers placed them on the stone Guardian’s belly. The griffin began to purr loudly, wriggling back and forth in appreciation.

And the girl fell in love, instantly calling the others over.

Soon enough, there was a swarm of loving, happy children – completely forgetting about the chaos outside – in a huddle around the cute little homicidal griffin. Alucard and Tory stared wide-mouthed. I smirked, and turned my shoulder, catching sight of the man who had bought the drinks for the two girls. He now had two young boys behind him, and was crouched before them protectively. He met my eyes and nodded.

“Take care of them. I’ll be right back,” I said to Indie and Alucard, striding through the door.

Tory raced after me. I began to warn her not to, that the spell would lock her in until the threat was gone, and that she was about to hit a solid wall of power that could withstand an army of both Heaven and Hell combined.

And she strode right through it as if it was made of mist. A tingle of alarm suddenly hit me. The ward wasn’t working. Shit.

I saw Alucard blurring after us with his inhuman speed, and shouted for him to remain in the shop. If the ward wasn’t working, I needed him inside to protect the girls if the Guardians failed.

He ignored me, took another blurred step, and I saw his face clearly as it crumpled into an invisible force, and he stopped cold. He bounced off, careened into a bookshelf, and collapsed. A haze rippled in the air of the doorway, that was all.

I blinked. Then turned to Tory in confusion. She glanced back at me with a frown. “Maybe it doesn’t like vampires?” I stared back for a second, about to open my mouth to argue that it should have prevented anyone from crossing the threshold, good, bad, ugly, heavenly…anyone.

Then I heard someone clear their throat behind me, and I whirled, having temporarily forgotten about the threat. I threw down my fists and eruptions of purple fire tore through the concrete in solid protective barriers as I dove to the side. I cast another one to the side of Tory, and she mimicked my move, darting for cover. I glanced up, not using my hands this time and flexed my mind like I had been practicing over the past several months.

Lances of green fire sailed down, the size of coins, sizzling as they melted through concrete, metal, and trash cans in a cacophony of chaos meant to distract. I just hoped it was enough to save the children.

Chapter 28

Baba stood calmly, watching me, picking her teeth. Her Familiar stood before Greta, seeming to sniff her. Greta was quivering with fear, reciting a prayer over and over again under her breath, eyes squeezed tight. The Familiar leaned forward and took a big whiff of her hair with its bony nose.

“Hey, bird-brain,” I snapped, tossing up my hand like throwing a softball from my hip. A ball of air screamed through the space between us, and solidly cracked into his nose, knocking his head to the side as the bone splintered, but didn’t break. It slowly turned to me after a second, and I spotted a spider web of cracks where the force had struck him.

“Dear, dear. You’ve broken the siding of my home. Tsk, tsk…” Baba cooed. The Familiar took a halting step towards me, forgetting Greta, but Baba cleared her throat and the figure stopped. Its smoldering black eyes glared at me from beneath the mask, and they promised a world of vengeance. Then it turned back to watch Greta. Even though her eyes were closed, she seemed to sense the sudden attention as she began to shake in fear again, but her prayers never halted.

Baba turned back to me. Then she glanced at the shop and the bars of light. She tapped her iron teeth thoughtfully, making a metallic sound.

“Must need a blacksmith for a dentist,” I muttered.

“What is a dentist?”

I blinked back, unfurling from my crouch as I let the rain of flame die down. One of the droplets fell close to Baba and she pinched it in a finger, snuffing it out instantly without a twitch of pain. She smiled at me. The air smelled like burnt rock, like a dry sauna.

Except it was asphalt, and it was in front of my store.

Damn it.

I had to be careful now. My funds were not limitless anymore, and St. Louis practically hated me for the dissolution of Temple Industries. Even though none of it had been my fault, and had been proven to be some elaborate corporate espionage scheme – by parties unknown to the general population or the U.S. Supreme Court.

Regardless, my company hadn’t been able to survive under the bad press, and I had been forced to sell it off. Part of that money had gone to Greta, who still stood frozen in fear before her Bible students, and the rest had gone to various other loyal employees from over the years. I was getting used to an entirely new reality. I couldn’t intimidate the city anymore. I was just a local business owner, fallen from grace. Before, I had been Master Temple, come hell or high water. Now, well… the situation was going to suck in the morning. Let’s just put it that way.

“I told you I wanted some cookies…” Baba cooed.

“Yeah, these aren’t for you. So why don’t you and your creepy house just head back out of town?”

She ignored me, instead turning to assess Tory. “And what have we here? This isn’t the creature that interrupted our previous meeting,” she murmured, stepping closer. Tory stared back, not moving an inch. Well, other than her fingers flexing into fists. I really didn’t want her to try and hit Baba. For one, she appeared like an elderly woman, and I would never be able to remove the vision from my mind. Tory decking a senior citizen.

Fight an Octogenarian, and you lose no matter the outcome. Either you beat up an old person – which was shameful – or you got beat up by an old person – which was embarrassing.

Secondly, I was entirely sure that Baba would have some creepy, deadly response. And I didn’t know how her Familiar would take it. Probably not well. “Where’s your shadow, crone?” Tory asked her.

Baba’s eyes danced with delight. “Oh, kitty has claws.” She grinned at me. “I like this one, even if she doesn’t know what she is. Doesn’t know who she hears calling out to her. Doesn’t understand the blood that whispers her name…”

“Uh, right.” I answered, noticing Tory’s stunned look my way. “Not sure about those last bits, but her shadow is Renaissance Chicken over there.” I pointed. Her gaze followed my finger to the creature and her eyes squinted a bit, but she seemed too preoccupied with the witch’s comment to be too terribly surprised. But I could tell one thing.

She was growing pissed and impatient. She wanted to hit something.

You see, the maternal switch had been turned on after a few months of looking after the Reds. And Tory didn’t really do… well, half-measures.

“Easy, girls. We don’t need to fight. Not here. Not now. Let’s just have a chat.”

“Over drinks?” Baba grinned, warty, bulbous nose twitching slightly as her iron teeth glinted.

“No, my drinking days are apparently over.”

“Can we step inside, at least?” She asked, grinning darkly.

“No.”

“I’m just an old woman searching for a book, boy. There really is no need to get so worked up. Have I displayed any aggression towards you?”

I stared back, hard. She glanced at Tory, smiling as she looked her up and down. “No,” I finally answered. She smiled, stepping closer to Tory. “But you have scared the hell out of these innocent little girls.”

“Pah,” she muttered. “They should have respected their elders, but the old one wouldn’t let me close enough to buy some cookies.”

Greta murmured in the background, reciting her prayers over and over again as the witch’s Familiar continued to sniff, sniff, sniff. The little girls huddled in a mass, crying and sobbing, calling for their parents. One of them was clutching a monster of a cat. A Maine Coon, judging by the size of it. The feline watched Tory intently for some reason, its tail twitching angrily, but the girls clutched it like it was a pet tiger ready to protect them if they needed it. “Hey, ugly. Step. Back.” I snarled, unhitching my cane from my belt and tapping it into the road, causing a tingle to zap the Familiar’s feet with a hiss of burning flesh. The creature didn’t even flinch, just lazily swiveled its head my way to stare at me.

Baba chuckled. “Easy, old friend. We truly meant no harm… You may step back.” The Familiar instantly vaporized to reappear directly behind the witch’s back to revert back to her hulking shadow. Tory blinked, but hid her surprise better than me. I almost let loose a ball of fire. If the creature had been able to move like that, the girls could have been slaughtered at any moment while I stood there acting tough. It caused a shiver to race down my neck.

“Well, if you’re not here to grind our bones up in that can-opener mouth of yours, why don’t you answer a question, since you obviously seem to know the answer.” She nodded, smiling. “The alcohol thing. Was that another gift due to my Maker ability?”

She traded gazes with Tory one last time. I heard a familiar snap off in the alley behind Baba and frowned. I’d recognize that sound anywhere. Shit. I needed to keep her attention before things got out of hand. “I’ve heard it’s a curse of Makers. Your power stems from your imagination. When you drink, or are otherwise inebriated, your inner psyche runs wild. The greater the influence, the wilder the reactions.” She smiled at me. “Makers have been known to level cities when they got to drinking … and worse when one happened to try a new kind of mushroom.” She smiled delightedly.

Wow.

That was disturbing, and also terrifying.

“Your power is obviously constrained by your mind. When you are out of control, those thoughts, fears, daydreams, good or bad, have the potential to come to life. Why do you think your kind was hunted so religiously? Especially by the Grimms. One could argue that your kind are the reason for their existence.”

“Right. I’ll keep that in mind. No more hallucinogens for me.” I studied her. She watched me curiously. I couldn’t take it any longer. “Okay. What the hell are we doing here?”

“I’ve come for the book, of course. I will pay for it. I wouldn’t want you to feel shorted since you so adroitly expressed your interest in making some money in the deal. I will offer double your client’s price.”

I stared at her. “I always have a hard time when I take Rubles to the bank.”

She ignored my comment, turned, and reached a hand inside the folded cloak shrouding the creature behind her like it was nothing more than a purse, withdrawing a shiny silver briefcase like you see in those old spy movies. She opened it to reveal a whole shitload of money. Easily half-a-million dollars. She stepped back, glancing from Tory to myself.

“Well? Do we have a deal, Maker?”

“I already told you guys. I. Don’t. Have. It.”

The Familiar quivered behind her. She cocked her head as if listening to something it was saying. Then she turned to glare at me with flinty eyes. “I don’t tolerate liars.”

“I’m not lying. Look. If I had it, I would tell you I did, flip you off, maybe even light that shiny briefcase on fire, and then kick your ass back to Putin.” I was getting sick and tired of this. I just wished I knew why everyone thought I was lying. Had I come across it somewhere and not known? Was it disguised as something obvious? Veiled in magic? She was looking angrier by the moment, so I cleared my throat. “Is there a chance it’s veiled? So that I wouldn’t recognize it?”

She thought about that. “Interesting idea, but no. It is not veiled. I don’t believe it can be. Now, hidden, yes, but not veiled.”

I shrugged. “Then I have no idea why you seem to think I have it. The last person I can think who might have it is Van. He seems sneaky. I’m pretty sure the Huntress would have used arrows or something violent to kill everyone at the auction. And I would also be riddled with arrows if she had stolen it from me. So, my bets are on the vampire hunter. Or this unknown player. The one turning us strangers on each other over this book.” I glanced at Tory, who looked distracted for some reason. She was likely thinking on Baba’s words. I turned back to the witch. “That was me being honest and fair with you. My patience and hospitality is going to go downhill from there…” I warned honestly.

She pointed at the bookstore behind us. “You call this hospitality?” She sneered. “I’ve tried being nice. I’ve played your civil mortal games. Enough. I can sense it. Inside. Let me in or all here shall die.” She was no longer a kindly old lady, and there weren’t enough of us to keep every child safe.

Then I caught a pair of fiery eyes watching the situation unfold from the darkness of the alley. Tory’s eyes followed mine and she stiffened suddenly. She tried to hide it, but Baba was a perceptive old lady. “Oh? What do we have here? Peeping Toms, I believe you call them?” She glanced back at her Familiar. “Kill them. All of them. Perhaps after his death the ward will go down. Then we’ll kill everyone inside and pick up the book ourselves.”

Chapter 29

The Familiar barely even hesitated before moving towards the girls.

But red dragons are a wee-bit faster.

The Reds exploded from behind a pair of trashcans in the alley, unfolding into their dragon forms – which were growing by the day, just like their mother’s rather impressive giant form – and split up to sweep high and low. The one up high pelted the creature with a glob of napalm red fire while the one below dove to tackle him like a lineman, claws scraping on the pavement before it launched itself at the creature.

The Renaissance Chicken took the fire badly, his robes soaking up the fire like an oiled cloth. He burst into flame, leaving a disembodied bird skull to float above a body of fire – a sight that would forever be burned into my retinas.

And…

It let out a rasping laugh. At least I think it was meant to be a laugh. The other dragon slammed into it hard enough to break vertebrae, and deflected off like hitting the side of a mountain before crashing into a parked car. Baba raised a hand to unleash some truly horrific spell on the fallen dragon, and Tory suddenly stood before her, fist sailing towards Baba’s chin with the power of motherhood behind each knuckle.

I began to shout for Tory to get herself and the girls out, but I knew it was too late. I watched in horror, wondering if it was the last time I would ever see Tory again. Sure, she was strong, but this was one world-class witch. Baba watched, turning her hand, which was dripping an oily blue substance from her skin, as if having dipped it in melting rubber, so that it would intercept Tory’s fist.

I threw up a shield of transparent diamond, knowing it would likely break Tory’s wrist, but I was willing to do anything to prevent her fist touching Baba. And, knowing her strength, I needed it to be hard enough to stop her, and something that even if Baba used magic, she could also not penetrate with her powers – ruling out my usual shield of air. As if the world moved in slow motion, my shield coalesced directly between the two of them. Baba was smiling.

Tory was screaming.

And her fist contacted my shield. I winced inwardly, not wanting to see it, hear it, but also not able to turn away.

Against all logic, her fist shattered my shield as if it had been made of toothpicks. Shards of diamonds exploded outwards in a cloud of sand. I saw Baba’s eyes widen – likely a direct reflection of my own expression. Tory’s fist crunched into Baba’s fat, ugly nose with a crunch loud enough to make me cringe. And that old biddy flew twenty feet as if riding a broom. She crashed into the brick wall of the building behind her, and Tory panted heavily. Then she glared at me. I began to mutter a defense when I saw her eyes widen, looking past me at the little Bible crew.

I swiveled, flipping up my cane as I used it to channel power at whatever Tory had seen behind me. The Familiar was towering over the table, reaching one clawed hand – body still on fire – towards Greta’s throat, claws dripping the same blue melted rubber substance.

A bell split the sounds of chaos. A bell of such crystalline quality, that I wondered if it had something to do with my ward or if it was Baba casting up something nasty. Twin bolts of lightning slammed into Baba’s Familiar from the heavens of a perfectly clear sky.

The bolts were white and blue, and seemed to stay connected to the ground longer than possible, and a pair of grey feathered wings snapped into existence between the bolts. A silver, crackling fist of pure energy the size of my chest slammed into the Familiar’s nose, wrenching it ninety-degrees to the side before the shadow vaporized to nothing, disappearing entirely.

A clarion voice called out menacingly. “Ye shall not touch her, demon.”

And I heard Baba roaring from the sidewalk as the Familiar was suddenly behind her, swaying dizzily.

A form unfolded from a crouch on the ground as the bolts of lightning disappeared, revealing a robed figure with a good twelve-foot wingspan standing immediately before Greta. The wings arched up over his head into points before the tips sharply shot back down to the ground at his feet. The feathers were a glowing, pearlescent white, but mottled with a light grey shade. Which was odd. Last time I had seen him his wings had been made of elemental powers. Fire, ice, rock, and glass.

It was Eae. An Angel. And his name literally meant Demon Thwarter.

I had sucker-punched him once.

But… Angels couldn’t interfere with humans. They had their Nephilim to do that. So how the hell was he… interfering?

A lance of red-hot flame shot out from Baba’s outstretched arms, straight towards Tory’s heart. The airborne dragon swooped down to her, as if trying to protect her, but I flung up a gust of wind at the last second, throwing her off course. The only thing her landing would have done was kill both her and Tory.

But…

Tory stood completely still as the bar of flame connected with her chest. She glanced down at it in confusion, then back to Baba. Then she lifted her hand through the bar as if it were merely made of smoke. In fact, if I couldn’t see the bar of flame, I wouldn’t even have known anything was happening. Baba lay on the concrete, staring in disbelief as her power poured into Tory like water through a sieve. Nothing came out of Tory’s back. It was as if the power never left her body. Baba screamed, and the bar of power doubled.

My head began to grow dizzy at the amount of raw power filling the air, and I noticed that even Eae seemed amazed, but he didn’t move. He stood solidly before Greta. The lance of power was twice as wide as a torso now, almost half of Tory’s own height, and all if it hit her directly.

And nothing was happening. Tory seemed equally surprised. Then her face split into a slow smirk.

And she took a step towards the fallen woman. “You hurt my little dragonling, witch. I think it’s time I hurt your little pet. Tit for tat.”

Baba’s eyes widened as Tory took another step. Then she cursed and evaporated, as did her Familiar. All of us stared at the last spot we had seen them, and then as if on cue, quickly glanced behind us and all around us, remembering her Familiar’s ability to appear wherever she wanted. After a few moments of fruitless paranoia, we began to relax, and the dragon I had knocked away landed beside the fallen one, who was now stirring. I stared at Eae, who sneered at me. I sneered back. Then I turned to Tory, who was flinging her hand as if to shake off some vile substance. I saw blue splatters strike the concrete and instantly sizzle through the concrete with a hiss, disappearing from view. She blinked, as did I.

“I think I need a drink,” I muttered.

“You don’t drink anymore,” one of the girls muttered.

I glared in her general direction as Tory rushed over to the two dragons. They shifted back to human form, now naked, and I caught a quick glimpse of their eyes and the horizontal pupils inside fiery red irises. It was an unsettling look.

“Right. I’ll have some cocoa then. We should get inside.”

“Looks like he’s already a few steps ahead of you,” Tory said while pulling Aria to her feet. Sonya helped – even though it was totally unnecessary thanks to Tory’s strength, and pointed at the door to my shop. Eae stood there, one arm around Greta, and his wings covered the herd of little girls like a feathery umbrella.

“Hurry up, Maker. They need shelter and comfort.” Greta seemed on her last legs, casting disbelieving looks at Eae before her eyes fluttered closed.

I nodded. “Hey, let’s get inside, everyone. We probably need shelter and comfort.”

No one argued as we cast furtive looks over our shoulders on our way to the door. I released the ward with a thought, and everyone shambled inside the safety of my bookstore. We quickly settled the girls down with drinks and cookies, leaving a few Guardians to lift their spirits, and I pointed upstairs.

“The adults need to have a talk. You too, Ken Doll.” I muttered to the Angel. “But first, I need to make a phone call. See to the children, Tory. We’ll talk in a few minutes.”

As if on cue, a little girl of six came up to me, clutching the giant cat desperately. “Here, Mister. My mom’s allergic. Thank you for saving us.” I blinked, and Tory looked about to cry. I accepted the massive cat, definitely a Maine Coon as I scooped up its weight. The girl grinned through gapped teeth and skipped away.

“It’s not funny, Tory.” That only made her laugh harder. I shoved the cat in her face, and the cat began to purr. I grinned. “It likes you.” Then I rounded on a heel and plucked out my phone.

What was I going to do with a cat?

Chapter 30

“Alright, asshat. What the hell is going on? What is this thing, really?” I seethed.

The proxy for my client on the other end of the line sounded nervous. I had to physically force myself to remember that this wasn’t his fault. He was an employee. He wasn’t the client, and was technically being shoved in the middle of something he possibly didn’t quite understand. Still, I knew nothing about him.

“I’m… not sure what the book is…” I began to mutter an angry response back, but he interrupted me. “But even if I did, I would not be at liberty to share. Your agreement with… my client was to obtain the item. You were given enough information to do so, and agreed to the contract. You failed to deliver as promised. Asking for additional information on the item was not part of our agreement.” It sounded rehearsed.

“Yes, well, that was before a bunch of innocent people were murdered and I met some of the nastier competitors. And your client mentioned nothing about having to deal with them.”

“There are always competitors for items with this type of price tag…”

I grumbled unpleasant things under my breath, finally giving up. “Fine. Since the parameters have changed, and you are unwilling and unable to share more details, I expect your client to share his money instead.”

“I will pass on your request.”

I threw out a ridiculous number.

There was a pause on the line. “My client accepts.”

“Wait, you’re with him right now?”

“No. He gave me a limited authority for negotiations in the event things were different as anticipated.” He answered. I wasn’t Agent Jeffries, but he didn’t sound like he was lying, and this was a pretty common tactic. After all, there was no point in having a proxy if they had to bother you with every single detail of the exchange. They typically left guidelines for price, delivery, and other negotiation tactics.

What the hell had I gotten myself into? This had just become a million-dollar deal.

“Now, I have no problem taking your boss’ money, but your answer does concern me a bit. He is literally willing to pay a million dollars for a book… but you won’t tell me what it is. And three murderous thugs also want it. And over a dozen people – innocents – were murdered simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Silence answered me.

“Fine. I’ll let you know when I get it. If I can get it,” I amended.

“My client wishes to remind you that it would be unwise to fail…” His voice was shaking.

I chuckled. I couldn’t help it. “Yeah. Let him know that line officially terrified me into doing the job for free.”

“Oh, okay…” I heard scribbling on paper.

“Hey. That was a joke.” The other line was silent before he mumbled understanding. “You don’t get out much, do you?”

“I shall await your call.”

“Yeah, okay.” I hung up and whistled sharply for everyone to join me upstairs. They did, the stairs creaking alarmingly underneath the Angel’s weight. Which was odd to me. I had subconsciously assumed that since his wings were made of feathers, he must be light, like a bird. Just proved my heavenly knowledge was not up to par. Greta – awake now – stared wonderingly at Eae until he began to look uncomfortable. He folded his wings in tightly to his back, and tossed on a light, long jacket I hadn’t seen him holding. A feather fell to the ground and I stumbled. “Um, Eae. You dropped something. Aren’t those things kind of important?”

He merely glared at me and then kept walking, leaving the fallen feather. I stared from his back to the feather. “It’s just that, remember the first time we met, and I swiped one of your feathers? You-”

“Stop. Talking.” His voice hit me like a blow. Then Greta slammed her purse into my chest.

“Do not speak with an Angel of the Lord. Unless you’re willing to be Saved first.” She arched a brow. I winked back, and continued up the stairs. I heard Tory arguing with the girls at the base of the steps, idly scratching the baby saber-toothed tiger in her arms. The Reds wanted to join us.

Like any good dad, I backed her up. “Reds, listen to Tory. Please.” They glared up at me like typical angry teenage girls. I put on my best scowl. “You just disobeyed a direct request and snuck outside last time we came up here to talk… and you were almost killed for it.” They looked guilty, eyes downcast, but still stubborn, so I tried ego. “The girls down there are terrified. And all the adult bad asses are upstairs, so I need you and the Guardians on point. Keep them safe.” A change crossed their faces as they realized it was important to be downstairs. Much better than being ignored while the adults talked over their heads. They turned back to the room and began scowling at the windows, pacing back and forth like soldiers. “Which reminds me,” I muttered under my breath as Tory climbed the stairs. I closed my eyes and imagined the ward going back up. A scream of power ensued and the bars zapped back into place with less fanfare than last time. The griffins were giving the little girls rides on their backs, so they didn’t even seem to notice.

“Nice,” Tory said, glancing down at the Reds with mild anxiety, still stroking the cat.

“You okay?” I asked, watching her eyes. She flinched, nodding too quickly. “Any idea how you, uh, well…”

She shook her head, eyes unfocused.

“Right. Well, me neither. I guess we’ll figure it out later. Just keep me updated if you have any odd sensations or experiences. It might clue me in on what exactly is going on. Deal?”

She murmured something affirmative, then walked past me up the stairs, fingers trailing the bannister in a specific manner, even though she seemed entirely unaware with her obsession over the cat. As I followed her, I realized that she was subconsciously tracing the wood grain. Perfectly.

Now, I knew during our schoolyard fight with the Grimms she had lost an arm and been healed by the mysterious green sprite, but also that whatever had healed her had been cast down into Indie’s grave, instantly growing the massive silver and white tree that now dominated the gardens of Chateau Falco. She had also been used as a conduit by the other sprites to ward Jacob Grimm against using his power to escape.

But as far as I knew, she had never before had the ability she had displayed today.

It bore consideration. And scrutiny.

A lot of strange things had happened that night.

I had met some kind of sentient being trying to coerce me into using my Maker power for itself, and I had only just managed to regain control before it began to control me. I glanced down at my cane thoughtfully, now back in its makeshift sheath. As if by magic… I smiled. It had worked flawlessly so far, although no one had noticed its unique abilities. My mind roved back to the night with the Grimms.

Indie had died, and then come back.

I had tapped into some power beyond my Maker ability, which the Horsemen of the Apocalypse had seemed very interested in.

And I had run into the mysterious bearded Ginger in that… other place. The White World, my subconscious had aptly named it.

I blinked, suddenly halting just outside the door to the loft. Pandora had called the realm that the Grimms went to the Dark World. Was I just connecting dots out of convenience, or were the two somehow related? I placed that uncomfortable thought on the back boiler. I knew there was a veritable army of Grimms still out there in that place, just itching to come over and decapitate me as many times as was magically possible for killing their leaders, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.

I composed myself, allowing my anger to flicker to life on a slow burn. As always when I let my anger free, I heard a pleased groan from the depths of my soul. That… other portion of myself that seemed to piggyback on my Maker power. At least, I thought that was the case. Better assuming that than that I had a dark alter ego inside of me, just waiting to take over my body. I found that I was gripping the ornate silver head of my new cane and shivered. I let it go, and the cane winked out of existence.

As did the dark whispers. I waited a beat, and a slow smile began to form. It really was working!

I shook my head. Research later. I had enough problems on my plate as it was.

I stepped inside to find Alucard making drinks. Tory sat in a chair, gazing at nothing as she petted the cat. A forgotten glass of chilled, murky absinthe sat on the table beside her. I smiled at the drink, but was more than a little concerned at her state of mind and her mysterious nullification powers. But as far as I knew, only Eae had seen it, and… “What the hell are you doing here, Eae?” I blurted.

Chapter 31

Greta was standing behind one of the chairs, and Eae lurked directly behind her like a shadow. She had already checked several times to be sure he was still present, standing behind her like a… guardian Angel. No…

Eae nodded grimly. “Yes. That is exactly right.”

“I told you I didn’t like you doing that.”

“Instinctual. I don’t like heathens doing good in the world yet refusing to recognize the Almighty. But that’s the free will thing for you.”

“Amen,” Greta murmured, scowling at me.

I nodded. “True. But that doesn’t answer why you’re here. I thought you were impotent to interact with our world.” His fingers flexed in fury at my choice of words. “Which is why you use a gang of little choir boys to fight your battles.”

Greta jumped to her feet. “Nate Temple! How dare you mock an Angel of Heaven!” Her chest heaved with rage, and I had no doubt that if she had a drink in her hand she would have bludgeoned me. Smited me. Whatever was acceptable before the eyes of an Angel. And I was pretty sure Eae would have given her free rein to do as she pleased. Free will.

Eae and I weren’t exactly enemies. In fact, he had gotten me out of a scuffle that literally could have kicked off Armageddon. Well, I had done all the real work. He had simply done the paperwork afterwards that cleared my name between the parties of Heaven, Hell, and the Horsemen. I was thankful to him for that, but at the same time…

He had kind of been an unbelievable prick to me during the entire ordeal.

Granted, he had thought I was allied with demons, thanks to a fellow wizard framing me, but still. First impressions stick.

I folded my arms. “I’m not disrespecting his demographic. I’m saying that he himself is an asshole. And I’m still waiting on an answer.”

Eae’s face did an odd quiver, and then he let out an abrupt laugh. It sounded odd, forced, unpracticed. He seemed as surprised as the rest of us. Alucard was standing as far from the Angel and Greta as possible, watching us. I began to wonder why neither Greta or Eae had drinks in their hands, and then almost laughed at the thought of seeing Alucard – a vampire who was as allergic to religious artifacts as one could be – serving an Angel and a woman who likely had every inch of her body covered with tattooed crucifixes. Alucard noticed my gaze and then looked abruptly startled as he realized he had never offered me the drink he had made me. He began to move, and I thought about telling him not to worry about it. I didn’t want to lose control of my powers.

Then again…

One drink wouldn’t get me drunk, and I did so love the taste of absinthe. And Alucard had mastered the mixing of absinthe better than even myself. Maybe he used voodoo from his hometown to make it especially delicious.

I accepted the drink and took a thoughtful sip. The explosion of anise and fennel on my tongue almost made me groan. The soothing burn spiraled down my throat, and the dark presence inside groaned approval. I stopped drinking immediately and released the cane handle.

That probably wasn’t good. Although no one could see it until I grabbed it, I kept right on unknowingly grabbing it. Like I subconsciously wanted to hear the dark voice.

I sat down on my Darlington Chesterfield with a sigh, placing the drink on the stand as I watched everyone. They were all watching me. Especially Eae and Greta. Tory was staring in my direction, but didn’t really seem to be paying much attention. She looked more introspective. Then a thought hit me as my gaze passed over Alucard. “How are you even standing in the same room as an Angel?” I exclaimed. Alucard blinked, then stiffened, apparently not having considered the thought himself until now.

“I… I don’t know,” He answered dumbly, staring at Eae curiously.

“Well, obviously, it’s because I’m not at full… capacity at present,” Eae grumbled.

“Um, well, you sure seemed to be at full capacity when you appeared out of nowhere to save Greta, Feathers.” I watched him, curious.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this, other than the fact that she needs to know,” he placed a powerful hand on Greta’s shoulders and she looked about to faint, “and you will not leave it alone until you receive an acceptable answer.” I nodded, leaning back.

“Don’t tell me it has anything to do with this go…” I instantly corrected myself, rubbing my eyebrows, “this damned book…”

Eae cocked his head, reminiscent of a bird, and stared at me for a few moments. “No. I know not of what you speak.”

“I’m not sure if that’s good news or bad news,” Alucard murmured, watching the Angel thoughtfully. I had to admit, he was handling it very well. I began to think of how amazing it was for Alucard to be standing in the same room with an Angel, and then realized that everyone should be just as astounded. Well, except for me. My first encounter with the holy jerk had been in a bar. Specifically, a bar fight.

“Spill, Feathers.”

He scowled again for good measure, and then proceeded to talk. “I was judged after the incident last year. Although my brothers agreed with the outcome, they were less than pleased about the events leading up to it. Thus I have been cast down to earth to serve as a guardian Angel until I am deemed worthy of returning home.”

“And you chose… Greta.”

My old employee shot me a glare hot enough to melt steel.

Eae nodded. “She is worthy. And… she is near to you…” I blinked.

“You’re keeping tabs on me?”

He hesitated. “Not particularly, but if I’m to be down here I chose to be near your side as you seem to have a pension for attracting… memorable attention.”

I scratched my stubble thoughtfully. This news was a little alarming. Even though he wasn’t down here specifically to watch over me, it had entered his consideration. Which meant I felt like I had a parole officer.

And I wasn’t much of one for authority.

But… a thought hit me.

This might actually help out a bit.

“Eae, since you seem to have an interest in my interactions, can I borrow your services?”

“I’m not a lapdog,” He growled.

I nodded, and turned to Greta, ignoring him. “Do you mind if I borrow your guardian Angel for a bit? I want to borrow his integrity to keep a bunch of people safe.” Her eyes began to narrow as she no doubt began forming excuses, both selfish, and objective. She had an Angel to speak with. How many questions would she have for him? I began to feel bad for putting him in this situation, even though he had deserved it for not trusting me in the first place. “Don’t worry, you’ll have all the time in the world to ask him your questions. Days, months… years…”

I saw Eae’s shoulders tighten at the thought. He wasn’t really a talker, and was no doubt realizing the error of his choice in Greta. “Well…” she began, glancing back at the Angel.

Eae cleared his throat. “I’m sure Nate has proper motivations for borrowing my time. I can’t get into any fights without you being directly in danger, so he can’t be stupid enough to try and use me to get into trouble.”

I held up my fingers in a Scout’s oath. “No fights. Just a talk with a few friends of mine.”

Eae watched me, likely wanting to get out for a few more minutes of freedom now that he had revealed himself. But there was also a glimmer of suspicion. He finally nodded. Greta slowly turned to me, and then let out an unconvincing nod herself.

“Great. Thank you so much. We won’t take long.”

“We will have to see about that. It depends on the conversation. I have been out of communication with the mortal world. This will be… enlightening. We don’t need to rush it.” His face cracked in a guilty hint of a smile as he urged me to agree.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to impose…” I began.

Greta was shaking her head. She glanced back at Eae and his mask slammed back into place, heavenly protector back in full view like a disguise. Tory chuckled to herself. “No imposition,” Greta murmured. “You boys have fun…” She smiled radiantly. “I need to see to the children anyway.”

Eae leaned towards her. “Don’t do anything dangerous. Do not put yourself at risk in my absence,” he warned.

She was shaking her head. “I’ve been around this long without your help, I think I can manage one more night. It will give me time to pray. There are many things I would like to discuss with you.” She glanced at me, shaking her head. “Of all the possibilities, who would have thought that you would bring me closer to the Lord.”

Rather than taking offense, I blushed, standing as I motioned Alucard and Tory to get ready to leave. “The Lord works in mysterious ways…” I offered.

Eae scowled at my blasphemy.

But Greta missed it, nodding as her eyes closed slowly, and she murmured a small prayer at her good fortune. Once finished, she asked a quick question. “Just curious, but where could you possibly need to go at such last minute’s notice that you require an Angel’s assistance?” We were gathering to leave and I turned my face away so as not to burst out laughing.

“A bar. I need to talk to a friend. One of the Four Horsemen might even make an appearance… See you there, Pigeon! It’s where we first met.” Greta squawked in disbelief, but I was already moving out the door and down the stairs, listening as Eae calmed her down. Alucard was shaking his head.

“You’re unbelievably cruel…” I could only smile. Even if he was right. Payback for all the mailers and religious scrutiny I had survived over the years. “But I personally thank you. I still twitch at the sound of the mailman…”

Tory laughed aloud. It was the little things. “Tory, don’t forget the damned cat,” I growled, remembering. But I needn’t have worried. They were glued to each other.

Chapter 32

“You’re back… unfortunately,” Achilles growled, washing the counter with a rag, back facing us. Then he stiffened. He turned slowly to face us, slowly blinking as he took in each face. Then he spotted the one he had been searching for. “You,” he said flatly. “This official?” he asked, tossing the rag down, leaving his hands free.

Eae shook his head. “My… job description has temporarily changed. I’m with him.”

Achilles blinked, turning surprised eyes on me. I smiled. “I know. Surprised the hell out of me too.”

“Very temporary,” Eae clarified, “and watch your language,” he growled to me.

Achilles just shook his head. “Well, have a seat, I guess. Anyone need a drink?” Tory piped up that she definitely did. Achilles didn’t ask what she needed, just prepared a drink of his choice and set it on the counter.

Tory smiled as Achilles tossed a bag to Alucard. “New shipment,” he answered the unspoken question. Alucard’s face split into a smile, but Eae looked disgusted.

“Hey, it’s better than the alternative…” the vampire puffed, catching the bag of blood.

“The final alternative is infinitely better,” Eae murmured darkly.

Alucard’s eyes tightened, but he gave a polite nod before leaving for the far side of the room.

Tory approached the bar, picking up her drink as she set the cat down. It began to prowl the room curiously. “Who do you think would win in an arm-wrestling competition, Myrmidon?” She asked, grinning. I had brought her up to speed on Achilles and his background, and she was fascinated by the legendary warrior. I watched her fingers again subconsciously tracing the swirls of wood on the bar, remembering her similar action at my store.

Achilles smiled back, all teeth. “We’ll have to find out one of these days, little girl.”

Tory grinned. “It’s a date.”

Achilles watched as she left the bar to sit at the table beside me, looking amused. Too bad Tory was on the girl train. Well, had been recently anyway. I knew that she wasn’t really particular, more interested in the right person rather than the vessel that person was embodied in. She was ambisextrous. But I smiled anyway at her harmless flirting. It was good for the soul. And I had been concerned about her after Misha’s death, and particularly so after tonight’s fight with Baba Yaga.

Achilles joined us at the table, leaving only Alucard to stand in the corner, pretending to stand guard. It was interesting how respectful he was being about Eae. Or perhaps he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop and for his presence to suddenly zap the sin out of him.

“Okay. What gives?” The warrior asked, eyes flicking to Eae.

“I spoke to Hope… sorry, Pandora.” Achilles leaned forward, suddenly eager, motioning for me to continue. “She expressed interest in seeing you also.”

He slapped a palm down on the table delightedly with a big grin. Then I saw gears begin turning in his head as his smile turned wolfish. I got a bad feeling. “And him?” He asked.

Eae merely shrugged. “I, too, am curious.”

“Well, to let you guys meet, I need to take you to the Armory. And the contents are of a… sensitive nature. I need complete confidence that nothing will be… accidentally removed during your visit.”

The Greek’s eyes tightened in warning. “Are you indirectly calling me a thief?”

I let the silence grow. Tory’s posture shifted slightly, no doubt preparing for a fight. “The Golden Fleece is there.” His eyes widened. “And a thousand other things equally – if not more – tempting.” The silence was deafening.

“I… understand.” The words sounded forced, and his eyes still danced with greedy thoughts. “The Golden Fleece alone would tempt even my honor.” His fingers were squeezing the table tightly, an intense inner struggle battling in his mind. Which was exactly why I needed Eae.

It was almost enough for me to believe in Divine Intervention. I glanced at Eae to find him watching me thoughtfully. He nodded one time. I quickly averted my eyes.

“Okay. Where do I sign?” Achilles finally rasped. “Quickly, before I change my mind.”

I turned back to Eae. “I assume this is still within your ability?”

He nodded back. “Speak the words, and agree by pricking your finger and dripping it into your glass.”

“I don’t have a drink.”

“Get one,” Achilles growled, still gripping the table. I motioned for Alucard to grab me a drink.

“What do you want?”

I turned to Eae. “Must match Achilles’ drink.” I glanced down to see a glass of wine before Achilles.

“The red on the counter,” I urged Alucard, who instantly began racing to pour a drink. The sudden tension in the room hit me like heat waves from Achilles. I wasn’t sure if it was his apprehension or simply the power of the contract to come.

I began to gather my thoughts, building a very basic contract from memory. As I opened my mouth to begin, the front door opened – newly replaced by me as a peace offering to Achilles.

“I’m here!” A familiar voice called out. “Ready to get ravaged? Midas gave me a new game for us to try. It’s called Cards Against…” his voice trailed off as he noticed everyone in the room. “Oh, hello, Master Temple. Tory. Vampire.” His gruff voice exclaimed the last in disbelief. “An Angel!”

Asterion, the reformed-Buddhist Minotaur approached our table eagerly, boots thudding into the aged wood like rubber hammers. “Oh, this will be the best game yet! Have any of you played before? Midas was laughing as he handed it to me, so I presume it is a most comical game.”

Everyone stared at him. Whether in disbelief that he was about to play the most inappropriate card game ever created, or the fact that he and Achilles apparently had a scheduled game night, or that he was interrupting a very serious situation, or the fact that the freaking Minotaur had just asked an Angel to play a game that could only have been designed by demons, or even that the Minotaur had just entered the room at all.

“Asterion, we’re kind of in the middle of something. Can you pump the brakes for a few minutes?”

He snorted in embarrassment. “Of course. My apologies.” His meaty fingers implored us to proceed as he stepped up close to our table. He instantly darted back, snorting again before his hand went instinctively to his prayer bead necklace with wide, thoughtful eyes. Apparently, he could also sense the power I was picking up. He took another step back, and didn’t press. His eyes shot to the floor and he gasped. “Tiger!” And he scooped up the feline excitedly, nuzzling it with his wet snout. The cat batted his nose ring playfully, causing him to smile.

Achilles glanced up, eyes bloodshot as I opened my mouth to begin reciting my impromptu contract. “Wait.”

My mouth clicked shut.

“What you ask me is very profound. You are asking me to make a binding contract to never touch an artifact from your Armory, when it sounds likely that many of the artifacts would be strong enough to remove the oath barring me from interacting directly in the supernatural world.” I blinked in surprise, but finally shrugged.

“I’m not sure what could or couldn’t break the oath. I haven’t fully inventoried the Armory. And I don’t know the oath currently binding you.”

He took a breath, nodding. “Be that as it may. What you’ve told me sets the scene for what I just told you. Also, you are asking me to agree to this in exchange for meeting someone who has informed you that they would like to see me also.” My eyes tightened as the sickening feeling began to return. “You are profiting twice. Your ward, Pandora, is getting off without a price.” I finally nodded. “So… I need something more to agree to this. I feel like this bargain has me overpaying.”

I began to argue but he held up a finger. “And then there’s the door. The one you destroyed.”

“But I replaced it.”

“You didn’t replace the memory of it. The memory of you disrespecting me.”

I groaned. I had been waiting for this moment. I knew he wouldn’t have just let it go. He had been waiting for the perfect moment to exact his repayment. “I looked into that vampire problem for you in the sewers,” I offered weakly.

He nodded, wolfish smile growing wider. “And I told you that the vampire situation was a ruse to give you information you desperately needed. I benefited nothing from it. Especially when the girl died, and you befriended the vampire.” His eyes flicked to Alucard meaningfully.

I and Alucard both protested immediately. “Those were renegades using my name under false intentions. I had nothing to do with it. Nate punished – eternally – those responsible for the fraud.”

“They were your coven, yes?” Achilles asked Alucard without looking at him.

Alucard sighed heavily. “Yes.”

“So…” Achilles grinned. “You owe me.”

I tried one last time to argue, but then he dropped a doozy on me. “We had a… disagreement a few months back. You did something I didn’t appreciate. In front of witnesses.” He didn’t elaborate, but I remembered exactly what he was referring to. I had been annoyed that he played me with the vampire angle, and I had pressed his buttons in return.

Specifically, I had hurt him in his one weak spot – not with any fatal intentions – but to simply prove that I wasn’t a pushover and to express my anger at what he had done. Still, Indie, Gunnar, and Death had witnessed me using magic to hurt his heel. Then we had exchanged vague threats for a second before coming to a temporary peace.

I had hoped it was behind us.

Apparently not.

My head sunk as I stared down at my wine. “Understood.”

His resulting chuckle was triumphant, but not overly so. I looked back up into his eyes. I had expected to see him gloating, but I was surprised to find that this was actually him bestowing a mercy of sorts.

My offense was literally enough to send us toe-to-toe, where only one of us would walk away. Of course, me being a modern guy, I hadn’t taken it that way. But… I was dealing with a guy millennia older than myself, with an entirely different view of honor than most. It was literally duel-worthy to him.

But instead, he was offering an olive branch. He nodded, acknowledging the understanding look that was apparently plastered on my face. I bowed once like a fencer acknowledging an impressive strike, and also thanking him for the alternative to a most certain death… of one of us.

His voice was soft. Everyone watched in rapt attention, even the Angel, although Eae was opening up the game Asterion had placed on the table. “Sweeten. The. Pot.”

I thought furiously. What could I possibly do to appease his concerns? I couldn’t give him anything from the Armory. He leaned back, waiting.

Then I had a thought. As the ramifications hit me, a smile began to split my cheeks. It was perfect. Well, I needed to ask permission first. “A minute?” I asked. Achilles waved a hand for me to do as I pleased. I stood from the table, grasping Asterion’s hairy bicep and leading him far from the group, out of earshot. He followed. I obviously wasn’t strong enough to physically force him to follow. Which would have been an embarrassing attempt.

Eae suddenly burst out, “That is… appalling!” His face was ashen white as he furiously rubbed his hands together, wings practically quivering as he took several steps back, dropping the cards to the floor as if they had burned him. Alucard burst out laughing. The Angel had read some of the more risqué cards, and they didn’t warrant the Heavenly stamp of approval. I chuckled briefly before turning to Asterion.

I began to speak to him in low tones, explaining my idea. At first, he was nodding, and then a big old horse grin cracked his serious features. “That is a might more than sweetening the pot. Actually, I would have to say that this idea is putting him ahead of you on the deal.” I nodded, smiling.

“It’s worth it.”

“Well, I have no issue with it. In fact, I can’t believe none of us thought of it sooner.” He grew silent, pondering the idea as he stroked the cat in his arms. It seemed to be sleeping, but I could hear a deep purring sound. He held up a finger. “You will, of course, have to request permission first. Not from me.” I nodded and he tapped his giant nose ring on a particularly large rune that was carved into the metal. “But I don’t think he will have any concern with it. He might even find a way to make it profitable, knowing him…” His eyes twinkled, mind no doubt racing with the potential of my plan. “I say proceed with your agreement contingent upon final permission.” I slapped him on the back in relief.

“Thanks, Asterion.” He nodded, still grinning, but looking distracted at the possibilities. Which was perfect. If my plan had Asterion – the most reserved creature I had ever encountered – this excited, it must be a great idea.

I sat back down in my chair and told him my plan. It had a similar effect on everyone around the table. Even Eae looked intrigued. But Achilles simply stared at me, unspeaking, and I began to grow uneasy. As the silence built, I noticed that his breathing was becoming shallower, and more labored. And that his posture was locked rigid. Then he began to tremor – ever so slightly – as his eyes slowly closed.

Was he freaking seizing out?

Just when I was about to jump to my feet to demand assistance, he opened his eyes, and his body slowly relaxed. A single tear fell from his scarred cheeks to splash into his drink. He blinked several times, looking just as surprised as everyone at the table.

Achilles had probably never been called a crybaby. But I didn’t want to tempt fate.

“It’s been said that his tears can cure cancer… but he never cries…” Alucard whispered.

“No, that’s Chuck Norris,” Tory whispered back softly, sounding distracted.

Asterion looked poleaxed, as if he had just been simultaneously hit between the eyes and the legs. His eyes flicked from the ripples in the glass to Achilles’ face in disbelief.

Achilles drew every gaze as he cleared his throat. “I… I haven’t shed a tear since Patroclus…” his voice tightened, coming back rougher, like gravel. “Since Patroclus died.” He finally looked up. “What you propose would allow me to…” he struggled for the right word. “Circumvent my oath at least. It has been almost one hundred years since I’ve been able to act. This…” He finally smiled, looking about a hundred years younger, if that was possible. “This will more than suffice.” He dipped his head in admiration and… affection? “Bravo, Temple. Bravo…”

I winked back. “Breaking rules and pushing boundaries is kind of my thing.”

At that, every single person in the room began bursting out agreement of specific instances when I had done just that – both to my detriment and benefit. Asterion, voice being what it was, boomed over everyone else as he shared the cow-tipping story. After the story had died down, I leaned over the table. “Ready to make a deal?”

Achilles chuckled. “Sure thing, Silver Tongue.”

Asterion’s eyes hardened momentarily at that, but the flash of anger and… alarm dissipated in a blink. I would have to ask him about it later when all this was over. Perhaps with a beer in hand as we celebrated the first night of my agreement with Achilles.

I still had to prick my finger, but Eae informed us that Achilles’ tear would suffice to seal the deal.

Feathered jerk.

Chapter 33

Asterion didn’t really fit that well in my car. I could feel the shock absorbers practically scraping the asphalt beneath us. Now that money was a concern of mine, these types of things took on a whole different meaning. I would have to pay to fix the car if he broke it. Which meant I would have to use my hard-earned cash from Plato’s Cave and whatever emergency funds I could scrounge up.

It was… humbling.

Having always had a security blanket to back me up had obviously given me an entirely distorted view of how the world actually worked. I have to admit, I wasn’t a big fan.

Tory had hailed a cab with the Reds, stating that she had filled her Nate quota for the night, whatever that meant. I had watched her with concern as she climbed into the car. She looked drawn, distracted, and concerned.

So was I.

We hadn’t had the chance to discuss whatever it was she had done during that fight. And if Baba truly knew what she was going through or if she had merely been playing head games. I would talk to her about it soon. After all of this. She needed to watch out for the kids now. She was temporarily out of the game.

We pulled into the driveway of a farmhouse, but as I looked closer, it flickered back and forth to a medieval looking castle of sorts. A glamour of some kind.

But this guy had dough.

He was King Midas, and I needed to ask him a favor.

Asterion shot me a thoughtful glare, and then used a single bratwurst-sized finger to open his door. The car lurched loudly as he stepped out, groaning in relief. Asterion made a similar sound of complaint at the uncomfortable ride. The cat slept on. “How did you get to Achilles’ bar in the first place?” I asked him, climbing out of the car.

He merely grunted in reply and began walking towards the front door. It opened of its own accord as Asterion approached. I locked my car – probably unnecessary – and followed. Inside was a pleasant surprise if one had only seen the farmhouse illusion. Rich paintings, tapestries and objets d’art hung tastefully on the walls or rested on small side tables.

I followed the Minotaur to the living area to find Midas in his usual perch, staring into the fire meditatively, back facing us. “The answer is likely no,” he murmured. Asterion chuckled as he set the cat down on a chair. It curled up and went right back to sleep.

I smiled to myself as I plopped down into a couch with a groan of comfort.

Even though it was summer, he still had a fire going. But I could tell it was more for the aesthetic, soothing appeal than for warmth. Asterion sat in a large loveseat, making it look like a regular chair for most humans. I shook my head idly as Midas finally turned to face us.

“How have you been, Goldfinger?”

He smiled back politely, but didn’t comment other than a small nod. The silence grew as he sat on a couch facing me.

“Well, I guess I’ll just cut to the chase…” Asterion was offering me no help, but was instead watching me intently, eyes distant. I wasn’t sure why his demeanor had changed so suddenly tonight, but I wasn’t really happy about it. Midas waited. “Okay. I came up with an idea… a lucrative one.” I added, knowing his pension for investments.

He blinked, taking a sip of his drink. “One would think you would be better at this.”

I almost laughed, but realized he wasn’t joking. He was being literal, as was normal for him.

I told him my plan, feeling sweat growing under my shoulder blades as he merely watched without comment. I felt like I was on Shark Tank, begging for funds, which started to piss me off. I opened my mouth and Asterion’s eyes widened at the look on my face. I bit back the words I had been about to utter and took a deep breath.

“I thought that this would be beneficial to all. It would even my debt with The Heel, give Asterion here some much needed exercise, and potentially grant you a steady stream of income…”

Midas took another sip of his drink, eyes glittering me as he weighed me to the hair. I had read that Midas was also known as a judge of sorts, and I felt plenty judged right about now. Everyone had seemed so excited at the bar, but the room was as cold, dry, and merciless as a rusty blade.

Midas turned to Asterion with a questioning stare. Asterion folded his arms, and then shrugged. “I do not need exercise…” he shot me a withering frown, “but what he proposes has… potential.”

“Potential…” Midas repeated, eyes roving the room, considering. I waited, really wishing I had a drink to sip and hide my nervousness. After what felt like ten minutes, he turned to me. “You propose I solve your problem, and you disguise it as a return on investment to me.”

I blinked. Asterion avoided eye contact with me. Fucking coward. I noticed the voice deep inside me beginning to grumble, and tingles of power called out to me. I released the cane handle, not realizing I had grasped it, squashing the sensation before it could tempt me. I turned to face Midas with cool, angry eyes. He had noticed my hand, and was frowning. “To be honest, I never considered it for my own gain. I was reminded of how I had wronged someone – even though they deserved it at the time – and thought about the best thing I could do for him. Give him something he has been longing to do for some time now. That thought led me indirectly to you, and how you might factor into the deal.” I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees. “That is the only reason. You possibly getting a profit out of it was actually hairball’s idea.” I shot a thumb towards Asterion.

He began to grumble something until Midas looked at him with an arched brow.

He fidgeted before finally nodding.

“Well…” his crystalline eyes turned back to me, and I suddenly felt like a bug caught in a spider’s web. “Are. You. Telling. The. Truth?” Each word hit me like a blow. I didn’t think it was magic, but merely the intensity of his glare. He commanded authority, and was used to getting honest answers.

Then again, perhaps it really was a power of some kind, judging from the stories.

I nodded after a deep breath. “You can always say no…” I added, hoping he wouldn’t. Then I would have to find a new way to appease Achilles, while trying to bribe, coerce, or blackmail Eae into joining me for another binding agreement.

“Ok. I will think on the price of admission…” He was rubbing his chin thoughtfully, not realizing I was staring at him so intently. I cleared my throat and he glanced at me as if surprised to still find me present. “Oh, yes. It truly is a clever plan. You are a clever man.” He smiled, eyes twinkling so that I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or not.

“Yeah, a regular Silver Tongue. I had you on the edge of you-”

“What?” His voice was laced with frost, and his eyes hammered into me.

Asterion cleared his throat. “I’m sure it was just an idle comment. Nothing more.”

Midas never turned away from me. “Was it an idle comment, Temple?”

“Um. Sure. What else would it be?” I asked, confused.

Midas finally seemed to relax, leaning back into his chair. “Okay.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to cut it,” I began, suddenly remembering exactly when Asterion’s mood had changed. It had been after Achilles mentioned those same words.

Silver Tongue.

“Well, what is a Silver-”

A hairy hand was suddenly clamped over my mouth, and I blinked to find Asterion shaking his head as he loomed over me. “Best not to say it again, lad.”

Midas nodded. “It’s nothing that concerns you, but just know that some phrases have origin stories. And sometimes those origin stories can hear you.”

I dropped it, nodding. Midas stood, offering to get me a drink now that business was concluded. I nodded absently. He came back with my drink and I took a sip before speaking what was also on my mind. “You’re pretty familiar with some of the old figures from mythlore. Across multiple countries. Right?”

He nodded, glancing at Asterion with a curious frown.

“Do you know much about Van Helsing? Baba Yaga? Or some Super Huntress chick?”

His eyebrows furrowed harder with each name. “Yes. All dangerous. All powerful. Not friends with each other. What makes you lump them into the same question as you did?” He asked, shooting Asterion a quick meaningful glance. He didn’t try to hide it, but he didn’t make it obvious either.

Asterion was watching me, and hadn’t noticed the look. “They are all in town right now. And they all want the same thing. Something they are convinced I have in my possession. Although I do not. I never have, in fact.”

“They didn’t believe you,” he stated flatly. I nodded back. “What do they seek?”

I sighed. “A book. It was at auction last night. I was intending to buy it for a client. Then everyone ends up dead and these three come knocking on… well, knocking down my door, convinced I’m hiding it from them. But they are each independent, seeming to be in a race to get this object. All I know is that it is a book.”

Midas grew thoughtful, finally standing to approach the fire as he took a sip of his drink. “And you unknowingly agreed to obtain this mysterious book for your client.”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds reckless…” Asterion chuckled. “But it’s really not that uncommon. Plenty of people wish to obtain rare items without attracting attention. Mystical shrines, holy objects… unholy objects. Their privacy is what they buy when they pay my fee.” Midas glanced over his shoulder at me, disapproval as thick as molasses. I held up a hand. “After a few… unique transactions, I made it my policy to verify that the item wasn’t dangerous. To the best of my ability anyway. If it is, I notify the Academy promptly. Most of the time.” There had been one time in the last few weeks where a possessed doll had come across my radar, and I had conveniently lost the artifact, storing it deep inside a dusty corner of the Armory. Even Pandora wasn’t keen to explore that wing for some time. “But I found nothing unusual about the object, its history, or my client. I will admit, he was the biggest variable. Hard to pin down, and I’ve never actually met him.”

Midas finally turned back to face me. “Ask Pandora. I have no useful information regarding the book. But I can tell you that the three you face are… formidable. You are lucky they are not allied. That isn’t saying much. Despite your luck and… skills,” I scowled slightly, but he didn’t crack a grin, “They have been around for centuries for a reason. And… they are obviously immortal. Or as close to it as one can be.”

I stared in shock. “Immortal?” I whispered. He nodded. “That… that is incredibly unfair.” I finally grumbled. He nodded.

“Understatement.”

I glanced at Asterion. He shrugged back. “I have nothing to add. Never been unfortunate enough to cross paths with them. Just heard stories.” I began shaking my head. If the Minotaur was concerned, I should be under a bed hiding. But I couldn’t shake their tail. “What would make them so convinced I have it? I’ve never touched it. Indie was at the auction, but she blacked out and woke up to find it missing and everyone dead.”

Asterion stared back at me very seriously. Then Midas did the same. I began shaking my head. “No, she didn’t take it. She blacked out. And it was gone when she awoke…” but it sounded weak, even to me.

“Did you check her?”

“Of course not. She’s my fiancé. She doesn’t even know what it is. I don’t even know what it is. Why would she possibly take it.” Another thought hit me. “And if she took it, that means she killed, or knows who killed, everyone in that room. There is absolutely no way she would do that.”

Midas waited in silence for a few seconds before speaking. “But you yourself have told me she has trouble controlling her powers…”

“It’s a big jump between controlling your powers and murdering a dozen people for no reason.”

“Maybe you just don’t know the reason…” Asterion murmured softly, eyes pained. I glared back.

“I think we’re finished here.”

Asterion began to argue. “Nate, I’m just pointing out flaws in your argument, not condemning or accusing Indie.”

I kept walking, furious. I plucked the cat up from the chair. It began purring instantly.

There was no way Indie had killed those people. Or stolen the object without telling me. It just wasn’t her. I could think of exactly zero reasons for her to do so.

But by the time I had gotten home, I had stubbornly convinced myself to pay closer attention to her, and try to get a sense of any magical objects on her person. Even a trace. Which would mean I would have to try to figure out how the hell that was even possible.

And I needed to pick Pandora’s brain on what this book might be.

Maybe there was a nice neat explanation for everything…

Right.

Chapter 34

I was pouring over a pile of papers on my desk at Chateau Falco, eyes sandy and irritated. I had slept fitfully on the couch in the office, having fallen asleep from exhaustion as I tried to get a grip on my new powers, and how exactly I could use them to sense residual magic.

See, here’s the thing. As a wizard, I had been pretty suave. Energy existed in the world, floating here and there, waiting to be used. Which meant that one was limited to the energy around him. But I had years of experience tapping into it. And I had been good.

Key word, had.

The other thing about my old powers was that a wizard was limited to how much they could channel. Some were born with the gift to efficiently channel absolutely any type of energy with practically no wasted effort. Others had to claw tooth and nail in order to make the energy do what they wanted. Sure, they could grab it, but they lost so much energy while trying to manipulate it that even if it was pouring rain outside they could have a difficult time filling a cup of water sitting under an awning ten feet away.

Then there was the endurance and strength of the wizard. We utilized our own energy to redirect these powers around us, and some were stronger than most, their bodies more resilient, with better stamina. While others grew exhausted fairly quickly.

I had been known for pretty good stamina, lasting longer than most, and I had pretty fair efficiency. More importantly, I had grown those… muscles through frequent, repetitive practice, like any athlete. And I had some pretty notorious teachers.

Long story short, I could use magic for longer than most, was pretty efficient, and most importantly, I was clever.

Listen, I’m not being arrogant. I just thought about things a little differently than most. For example, during a high-speed car chase with a silver dragon chasing us, most wizards would have used brute force to attack the beast.

But me…?

I had decided to coalesce the humidity around me to build up between the dragon’s scales, and then to rip that heat away abruptly and violently. The result had caused the mass of water to instantly freeze, seizing up her wings, and she had fallen from the sky, and being made of silver, had sunk to the bottom of the Mississippi River where she had drowned.

It wasn’t that I had been stronger, but that I had been sneakier. That was no doubt a result of my upbringing. My dad had been a wily one in his day, too.

But now, none of that mattered. Because my own people had cursed me, zapping me of my powers when I had died. Luckily, my father had secretly done… something – I wasn’t exactly sure what, and I hadn’t gotten around to pestering his soul in the Armory about it – to me that brought forth an entirely new, wilder, more arcane form of power that hadn’t been seen in centuries.

A Maker.

From what I had gathered – which wasn’t much, since every single Maker had been hunted down and killed – we used powers completely different from that of a wizard. Rather than needing the energy around us, it was almost as if we had a conduit to some untapped power oozing from the earth itself. Or something like that.

Anyway, it was a pool of untapped power that could be formed and created into whatever the Maker needed to, well… make.

Sounds pretty damn cool, right?

Well, there was a catch, as I was only recently discovering. Although the power could be technically used for whatever the Maker wanted, each Maker was different. Different strengths. Different inherent skills or affinities. Mine seemed to be fire, water, and some form of purple energy that was like a freezing bolt of lightning. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it was hell on wheels for destruction.

Let’s say that I wanted to do something with metal, or earth, or wood, or air. Well, I was finding myself grossly inefficient to say the least. I hadn’t shared this with anyone, as I really had no one to share it with. No one to relate to.

Taking this into consideration, once I found a way to do something, I could still do practically everything I could as a wizard, I just had to take a different path. I had to learn new ways to manipulate this source of energy inside me. But it was exhausting. And required extreme strength of will. Actually, will was pretty much the best way to describe my power. I could make reality different. Quite literally. Once mastered, anyway.

Before, I could be in the same room as a wizard and we could judge each other’s strengths at first sight. Now, we were wildcards to each other. But I was pretty hopeful that with a little practice I could defend myself pretty well against another wizard.

I hoped.

After all, we had been hunted down and killed for some reason. So there had to be a reason we were so feared.

This put me in an interesting dilemma at the moment. How could I find a way to sense magic on a person when I didn’t know how? Sure, as a wizard, piece of cake. As a Maker… I hadn’t the foggiest idea. So, I had been up late fooling around. Not wanting to keep Indie awake, or for her to discover what I was doing, I had retreated to the office for privacy. I wanted to figure this out so that I could take a quick glance at her and justify my professed innocence on her part.

The other variable in the equation was the very real dark presence that seemed to reside somewhere deep inside me. I hadn’t encountered it until we faced off against the Grimms, and I had unknowingly wielded some pretty unbelievable powers. But there had been a cost. I had basically had to bargain with a… being inside of me, wrestle it into submission, and command it to help me use my powers as a Maker. A professor against the Dark Arts that was apparently a part of me.

My fingers tapped the silver eagle-headed cane at my hip thoughtfully.

With Barbie’s help – a sprite who had helped me battle the Grimms – I had found a way to sort of bottle up that dark part of me, and we had put it inside the cane. This way I wouldn’t be found in a dark room talking to myself as I learned new ways to use my power. If I wanted help, I grabbed the cane and tried to strike up a conversation with my very own Professor Snape. Or I could try and wing it on my own.

The cane was also particularly dashing, in my opinion, and could be used as a sword – since that was what it was. I released the handle, and the cane snapped out of existence. Well, for everyone else it would be invisible. But me, I could always see it or sense it. And it was magically tied to the sheath at my belt so that even if I dropped it, the damn thing was back at my hip.

Pretty neat.

I shook my head, glancing back down at the papers before me. They showed blueprints of Chateau Falco from several decades ago that I had found in one of the libraries, but my father had made no renovations so I was reasonably sure that they were accurate.

But they weren’t.

For example, they didn’t have the door to the Armory.

Which was the only addition my father had made – establishing a permanent portal of sorts to a dimension that held a cache of weapons that had been concealed from the world, in order to keep the items inside out of the wrong hands. But he hadn’t hired anyone to come build or anything. He had just used an existing secret passageway to hide the gateway.

But there was no secret passageway on the blueprints.

I scratched my jaw as the door opened. I glanced up to see Indie sauntering in with a scowl on her face. She looked worse. “Jeffries and his lackey woke me up from my nap and grilled me about the auction. He said it was your idea…” her face was not at all pleased, only making the dark rings look more serious.

I frantically dove under the table. “Oh no, you don’t. You can’t hide from me, Nate.”

I scooped up the sleeping cat, climbed to my feet and extended my arms as if offering tribute to a vengeful goddess. “Look, a cat,” I blurted.

Her anger melted in a heartbeat. “Oh, my god!” She snatched him away and instantly began nuzzling him with a broad smile. Her skin seemed tight and thin, and very, very pale. I said nothing, but realized we probably did need to get her checked out. She caught me looking at her. “Don’t think this gets you out of trouble…” she warned.

And then the cat began to purr, and she forgot all about being angry. Score, Nate.

After a few minutes, she spoke. “I swung by the shop last night to see you, but you weren’t there. There was quite the police presence…” she added warningly.

I nodded. “The witch came by for cookies.” Indie arched a brow. “And the book, but mostly for the cookies, I think.” She waited, stroking the cat. It was freaking huge. I hoped it was fully grown. “I reminded her that I didn’t have it. She insisted. Tory showed her the door.”

Indie nodded, watching me intently, lips tight. Then her face brightened. “Oh, that reminds me. How did the Parent Teacher Conference go?”

I smiled, shaking my head as she sat down in the chair before me, glancing curiously at the blueprints. I waved a hand. “Fine. But we had to talk to them about using their gifts where others may see.”

Indie nodded. “I still think Raego should be helping more.”

I shrugged. “He’s pretty busy running a nation.” The other weredragons of the world looked at him as their King, thanks in no small part to me. I would have loved for Raego to help Tory instead of me, but my answer was true. Running a nation was hard work. And, although I knew nothing about how to raise a child, I did love those violent little girls. And I felt responsible. Their mother had been murdered in a battle with the Brothers Grimm, which had been my fault. Well, not really, but I had insisted that the dragons help get rid of them.

I had assumed none of us would survive, but knew that if we didn’t try to stop them that the Grimms would slowly but surely hunt everyone I knew down to kill them. It’s what Grimms did.

My gaze shot to Indie, but she was studying the blueprints, idly stroking the cat, which was purring like a small engine. Indie was now a Grimm. And none of my friends were entirely comfortable about that. Sure, the transfer of power had helped Death bring her back to life… but at what cost? Was she, even now, lying to me? I quickly averted my gaze to the blueprints as I noticed her swiveling her head to look at me.

“What’s this all about?”

I turned my back on her, staring out the giant window behind the office desk to study the grounds of Chateau Falco. A giant silver and white tree dominated my view, easily fifty feet tall, and as far as I knew, unbreakable. I had tried carving into it and the knife had broken. “Just double checking the security of the home after the Grimms.”

“You have the Guardians for that.”

I shrugged. “Can never be too careful. And I still don’t know how Jacob knew about the secret passageway. Sure, he would have had to escape the passageway after leaving the Armory, but how did he learn how to get back in?” I turned after a few moments of silence. Indie had placed the cat on the desk and had her finger on the blueprints, resting where the office was located.

“Nothing here.”

I nodded. “Exactly.”

Her eyes flickered with silver lightning as she glanced up at me. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. After a few repetitions, she opened them again to reveal her normal icy blue color. “Sorry. It seems to feed off my emotions,” she explained. I was so exhausted that I hadn’t even thought about her power. Whenever she was around another freak she was likely to suddenly mimic their power to ill effect. Usually to kill, maim, or torture. It was instinctual, and she struggled with it daily. It had gotten bad enough that she rarely left the house anymore.

And it was growing worse by the fact that the murder she had witnessed made her ineligible for field trips. I needed her out of view of public scrutiny until things blew over.

If things blew over. It wasn’t like I could tell Jeffries that three immortals, my client, or some mysterious third party had murdered everyone with magic to steal a mysterious book. Well, I could, but he couldn’t do anything useful with the information.

Mallory stepped into the library and cleared his throat politely. “Car is ready.”

I nodded distractedly, feeling a knot growing in my shoulders. “Oh, that’s right,” Indie murmured. “Want me to go with?”

I could sense she was eager to get out of the house. I glanced up at her, trying to let her see that I appreciated her offer, and that it meant a lot to me. “Thanks, but until this all blows over, you really don’t want to be out and about. It could end with you behind bars, or worse… especially if you decided you didn’t want to be behind bars…” I smiled sadly.

Her head sunk. “I know. It’s just… I’m so bored!”

I placed a palm on her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.” Her skin was cool to the touch. I decided against pressing her about Asterion’s fear that she may have been complicit in the theft of the book. Do I look suicidal?

“You need someone to watch your back. Especially after what I heard happened at Plato’s Cave…” I could see the ferocity in her eyes. She was finally able to assist in the supernatural arena, yet she couldn’t. Both because she couldn’t properly control herself yet, but also because she was involved in the active murder investigation.

“It’s alright. I have Mallory here. And Tory is joining me.”

“Oh?” Indie asked, not meeting my eyes as she fiddled with a pen, teasing the cat who was pawing at it. “Did she appreciate the adoption papers?”

I smiled. “Immensely.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Just hurry up. I’m going crazy cooped up like this, and I feel like this drafty old place might have given me a cold.”

I nodded, relieved that she had brought it up first. “Have Dean pick up some medicine.” I kissed the top of her head, and followed Mallory. I called out over my shoulder before leaving the office. “Make sure you let that monster outside. And have Dean pick up a litterbox or something too.”

She turned to glance at me, smiling. “Will do.”

I blew her another kiss and left.

“You ready?” Mallory asked.

I nodded absently. “Not really sure how to feel about this, but let’s just get it over with.”

Chapter 35

We walked through the cemetery, the lush green grass a mockery of the death surrounding us. I was fulfilling a legal obligation, visiting my ancestors’ mausoleum once per year. This was a requirement of the family trust.

Bellefontaine Cemetery was a pretty popular cemetery in St. Louis, housing the remains of several very prominent historical figures.

Although it was odd, seeing as the most recent trustees were my parents, and I could visit their spirits from the comfort of my own home. Still, it was a time-honored tradition, and we Temples were all about dusty old routines. I hoped that it would help clear my head. We had picked up Tory at Raego’s home, where she was currently living with the Reds and a veritable army of other dragons. Raego hadn’t been home, but he was in the city at least. He was always busy lately, hence my self-imposed guardianship of Tory for Misha’s girls. I wasn’t about to let them feel alone. At all.

We had driven to the cemetery in silence. Mine was a result of reflecting on the upcoming task of reviewing each sepulcher or tomb. Tory’s was likely a result of whatever personal issues were bothering her. Something about her strange use of power the night before, which I was definitely going to talk to her about.

I dodged a particularly awkward space between two headstones, careful not to disrespect anyone. As we topped a small rise, the Temple Mausoleum unfolded before my eyes between large trees. Our family had purchased the largest chunk of land in the cemetery, and had built a monstrosity of a building to house any and all Temples from the 1700’s and on. The outside was decorated akin to something one might find in Rome – all arches, elaborate stonework, filigree, bastions, and pillars. It looked more like a medieval church.

Except I had never heard of a church that displayed gods and faiths of almost every flavor. Poseidon, Buddha, Fae, Angels, Monsters, and a plethora of others, even mortals intertwined in romantic poses. It was supposed to represent the beauty of life, both good and bad, and that the Temples didn’t discriminate against other faiths. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and even dominated the size of the caretaker’s building, confusing most visitors into thinking this was the cemetery’s office.

But when they saw the giant steel door, disguised with carved wood and bass relief, and the modern digital security keypad beside the handle, they quickly realized their mistake. That, and the brass sign that stated who was the owner of the building, and that the office was to the East.

Mallory silently stepped up and typed in the code as Tory and I simply admired the building. A successful beep interrupted the silence and the door swung open on silent hinges. Upon opening, it was revealed that the door was a good foot thick, and as it opened, low lighting flashed on inside the building, all automated.

My parents had made a few updates prior to their departure.

In fact, my parents had spent quite a bit of time here in recent years. Upgrading security, soundproofing the building, and installing security cameras everywhere. I didn’t know why, and hadn’t bothered to ask them about it. Priorities.

I’d ask them some other time.

Statues lined the main hall, with recesses carved into the wall to grant privacy to each pair of statues. You see, each alcove was reserved for a specific family member and their life partner – if they had one.

Before each statue stood a low marble pedestal with a glass-enclosed box resting atop it. Inside the box was a leather journal representing the accomplishments of their lives. Their upbringing, full name, parental lineage, description, years lived, school attended, and vague references to their magical accomplishments. The place was not public, so no one had been concerned about hiding the fact that each member of the family had been notorious for very different reasons. Vampire slayers, werewolf tamers, Fae liaisons, and many more uniquely interesting, um… career choices. I walked past one that I remembered was a healer. The last line on his journal referenced the fungus he had been researching and had ingested before being found dead the next day… with both of his eyes turned a royal purple shade… the sclera and iris…

Before the pedestal sat the deceased’s favorite chair or divan. This was also for the survivors – so that they could sit and remember their loved one in the comfort of his or her favorite lounging furniture. One ancestor had a bone barstool made from a creature entirely too large to exist in the natural world, but no explanation of its origin had been provided. Of course, thanks to the illustrious historical financial situation of our family, all the pieces of furniture were varied, exquisite, and maintained to top upholstered quality by Mallory. He was the janitor.

Mallory had many jobs, and I still knew very little about him other than the fact that my father trusted him completely. And, he had some unique magical talents. Not a wizard, but… something. He had healed me from a bullet wound once using just his hands. When I had asked Mallory about his past, the conversation had gone downhill fast. So, being me, I had pestered my father about it, only to get a similar response. His past is his own. If he chooses not to share, that is his prerogative…

But I would get the full story. Somehow. Some day. Just not today.

Silk ribbon connected to brass posts established a respectable distance from the walkway to the couch, granting privacy for the survivors of the relative to mourn in peace.

Perhaps my parents had upped security due to the blatant descriptions in each book, basically admitting that each was a wizard, or in the eyes of the world at large, bat-shit insane.

Because the world didn’t believe in magic. We freaks were just stories used to scare children into behaving.

But we liked it that way.

Still, the center could not hold. Sooner or later enough people would have firsthand experiences, and risk their name to share with the millions of available media channels, and the world would be forced to accept the truth or continue burying their heads in the sand, telling themselves that video graphics were frighteningly realistic these days…

I shook my head in mild disbelief that we hadn’t already been outed long ago.

I continued down the walkway, motion sensor lights flickering to existence in a warm glow the further I walked. Tory and Mallory followed silently behind me, witnessing my responsibility for the lawyer to verify. Typically, Turner Locke would be here to verify, but he had on this occasion been forced to utilize Mallory as a witness.

Apparently, my janitor had obtained a law degree at some point and was a consultant to Turner’s firm.

I shook my head. Like an onion…

The mood was somber, and I sensed Tory studying each ancestor we passed, but I had eyes only for one of the furthest locations… my parents.

We rounded a curve in the building and at the intersection was a giant fountain, illuminated by the stained-glass windows high above. Rainbows flickered here and there in the mist. Just past the fountain stood a large tile mosaic of a tree, covering the entire wall. The branches were full, luxurious, and provided copious shade to the carved roots below.

It was the Temple Family Tree.

But rather than the branches representing the family members, the artist had decided to use roots to represent each family member and their children. Men were represented by rubies, while women were represented by sapphires. Each name was etched in silver beneath the gems.

I was the lowest root on the tree now. I hesitated as I walked past, shoving down the sudden constriction of sadness in my chest. I pressed on, finally approaching my parents’ tomb. The two stood in marble form, holding hands. My father held an hourglass and my mother held a small pyramidal shape. Their gazes crossed each other so that my father was glancing in the direction before my mother, and vice versa, representing what I assumed to be each looking out for the other. Although I had no idea what the items they held represented.

It had been in their last will and testament.

I stepped under the silken cord and rested my hand on my mother’s shoulder. One part of me felt saddened, like their death was hitting me for the first time. They. Were. Gone.

But another part of me felt mildly phony. Their spirits had been… loaned to me by Death, so that their eternal slumber was located in the Armory. I wasn’t sure how long that gift would last, or the rules for the dead, and Death had not been keen on sharing specifics, informing me to appreciate the gift while it lasted, which was infinitely more than most were able to do. So, yeah. I felt like a fraud coming here. I could go talk to my parents about wedding plans right now.

But the weight of this place… well, it brought home the reality. Their spirits, although metaphysical and real, were merely delusions. Projections of the fact that I would never again be able to truly touch them. Hold them. Hug them. Shake hands with my dad on my wedding day.

Indie would never get to dance with my father at our wedding.

And I would never be able to prop up my hysterically sobbing mother during a mother-son dance.

I wiped my eyes.

Stupid, dusty buildings. I needed to remind Mallory to replace the filters or something.

“We’ll all dance in the Armory, guys. I’ll make sure Indie wears her wedding dress, dad…” I whispered. I heard Tory let out a sob, and Mallory softly comforting her.

I cleared my throat, removed my hand and turned to them. “Okay. Let’s go.”

I began to walk back to the front door, but upon passing the family tree, I paused, turning to study it acutely. I was only interested in the names. Perhaps I could trace the tree back to who had originally built Chateau Falco, and then somehow use that information to find updated blueprints. Accurate ones. I needed to verify that my home was impregnable. I had gone through too many experiences lately to push it off any longer. Especially now that I was the only Maker in the world, and that Indie was the only Grimm…

And that we were going to marry each other.

You could say that the world would likely not be too pleased with any of those statements.

And you would be grossly underestimating the situation…

I began at the top of the root system, going back as far as our recorded history allowed, which was incredibly extensive. The tree was huge, standing two stories, but each name was etched in silver, so that it was easily read. In fact, the carving was the reason the building looked so large from the outside. They had literally designed the building around the carving. A sad thought hit me. They had probably feared that the number of descendants would someday crowd out the bottom, providing a future ancestor with a very large problem. But then again, the carving had been created with magic, so maybe a basement would suddenly appear to resolve the situation.

Then I shook my head. I was the last Temple, and unless Indie and I were very lucky, the dynasty would end with me. Which meant magic wouldn’t have to go out of its way to fix the problem. The tree was already complete.

I forced the dark thought down and read the names, committing them to memory. It was akin to taking pictures for later review. I had an eidetic memory when I so chose. Or as close to one as was possible, anyway. I had the ability to remember almost everything I read, observed, or witnessed. As long as I was fully paying attention. Of course, if my mind wandered, and I wasn’t paying attention to what I was reading, I wouldn’t be able to recall it later, but I think it was safe to say that I was in the upper ninetieth percentile on recall ability.

I absorbed the tree before me, mentally recording the list of elaborate names and their relation to each other so that I could rewrite it later. I hadn’t ever found another copy of our family tree at Chateau Falco, so this was my best bet.

As I read down the line, my eyes passed over a section, roved on, and then jerked back. I gasped in surprise at a glimmer. But then it was gone.

“What is it, Laddie?” Mallory asked softly.

I cleared my throat, hiding my inner thoughts. “Nothing. Just a thought that hit me out of left field.” I studied the tree a few more moments, trailing down to my name at the bottom, and then turned away. “Okay. Now I’m ready,” I murmured, mind racing with possibilities.

They were studying me acutely, then shared looks with each other before simultaneously holding out hands as if to state they would be right behind me. Almost as if it had been planned. They blushed at their identical actions, but I pressed on.

They could be as curious as they wanted.

I was too distracted to care. This changed everything…

I approached the door, but Mallory quickly stepped past me to type into the keypad. The door opened again on silent hinges, and Mallory darted ahead of me, studying the humid air around the building with a calculating eye. I rolled my eyes.

“It’s a freaking cemetery, Mallo-”

“Get down!” He roared, and I was suddenly yanked back by the collar of my shirt as something whizzed past my nose close enough to tickle a bit. The object cracked into a wall behind us, and I glanced back quickly to see an arrow quivering in the stone.

What the hell?

Mallory was roaring in defiance, a lightning spear clutched in one hand as I shook free from Tory’s grip, ready to throw myself through the doorway and unleash hell. My hand was gripping my cane tightly, and I hadn’t recalled doing it. That wasn’t good. I let go quickly.

Tory flew past me, and the door began closing, locking me inside the House of Death.

Chapter 36

A melodic, taunting laughter split the air from beyond the closing door. I quickly dashed through, instantly rolling to the side, using basic warfare assumptions. Sniper tactics. The first arrow had skimmed my nose and would have easily split the center of my cranium open if Tory hadn’t yanked me out of the way. I assumed our attacker was flushing us out, and that striking the keypad with an arrow had been a deliberate move, leading me to an assumed course of action.

I wasn’t wrong.

But rather than an arrow, a full-sized spear slammed into the wall where my torso would have been had I been running.

Which let me know something about our attacker. One, it was a person who thought like a hunter. Or a soldier.

Two, it was a woman, judging by the laughter. Then I heard a roar from a massive bearlike creature as I ducked behind a tombstone, narrowly dodging a second spear.

Hello, Huntress. Or whatever her real name was.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” the confident voice teased. The voice seemed to reverberate throughout the cemetery, echoing off the tombstones around us and distorting my ability to locate her accurately. And a fog was blanketing the area, where none had been before. Then I felt something zip past my ear, and a slice of pain like a papercut hit me. Then another one. All I saw was a sparkly blur this time. I waggled my hands around my head like a maniac as I saw another blur racing at me.

What the hell? Ninja stars?

Then my fist coincidentally connected with one, hammering it into the tombstone behind me. I glanced down to find a dazed pixie staring up at me with wide, surprised eyes. The creature looked like a Lilliputian human. He hissed at me, so I swatted him again.

Lightly.

Look, he was tiny. I hissed at what felt like a freaking cactus pierced a thousand places on my palm. I tore my hand away only to find a dozen or so tiny spikes. I began tearing them out of my flesh with my teeth and stared down at the pixie as I did so. One of his wings was now broken, and he was unconscious, but his clothes resembled more of a porcupine – if porcupines were made of diamond.

The slivers I pulled out evaporated into puffs of air as they left my flesh, a single crimson stain on each tip. I shivered, hoping that my blood disappeared with the thorns, and not that my blood had just been Fed-Exed to the land of the Fae…

“One down… You should really pick on someone your own size…” a voice hissed. I dove to the side, fearing the worst. The only thing was, that the voice had predicted my evasion much better this time.

I realized this because a white-hot pain suddenly grazed my outer thigh. Knife. I swung wildly with my fists, shambling behind yet another tombstone. I couldn’t see anything to attack with my magic, but I was saved by twin spears sailing off into the cemetery in entirely different directions, too fast for one person to get to so quickly. My wound wasn’t serious, thankfully.

But Mallory was never wrong. He was a deadeye shot.

The Huntress had some kind of teleporting gimmick. Just like me.

Lucky me, that had been one of the first things I had learned to use with my magic. I evaporated to nothing, preferring to Shadow Walk rather than to open a telltale gateway. Having walked this cemetery countless times over the years, it wasn’t difficult to assemble the layout in my mind, despite the fog. I rapidly shifted from one spot to the next, randomly, all over the place, and then froze on top of the Mausoleum, silently scanning the scene. A cloud of the tiny fairies stalked the fog, zipping about like a school of fish in the ocean. They were steadily circling in on Tory, who was darting from tombstone to tombstone, head low.

I wanted to warn her, but then I saw the source of the roar a few moments ago.

The damned Gruffalo-looking thing was sniffing and snorting through the air, turning his head this way and that. I saw a shifting of fabric behind a tree, but it was gone when I focused in on it. The Huntress was searching for me while my friends were hiding.

Her voice called out from another section of the cemetery. “Where…”

Then the opposite side of the cemetery. “Are…”

Then from up in an old tree fifty paces away. “You…?” I squinted, trying to spot her, knowing she was likely gone. She was shifting as she spoke, casting her voice all over the place. No wonder I hadn’t seen her. One of Mallory’s lightning spears suddenly launched from an empty pocket of air beside a tombstone, sailing up into the tree, but I only heard laughter reply. I stared at the origination of the spear and saw it quiver slightly.

Then I blinked in understanding.

Mallory could make illusions? What the hell? I calmed my sudden fury at realizing he had been hiding another ability from me. Both in anger, and disappointment at realizing he must not have trusted me with the-

“Boo,” a knife slashed across my back, but me flinching saved me from being fileted. I instantly Shadow Walked to a space closer to Tory, and found a swarm of hostile fairies sailing at my face. I Shadow Walked again behind a nearby tree, and those creatures sailed directly at Tory. I glanced back to see the Gruffalo zeroing in on her as well in a classic pincer movement. I wasn’t sure if Tory was aware, but there really wasn’t much I could do to change it without giving myself away to the Huntress.

I heard more sizzling bolts of lightning arcing through the scene, and the resulting grunts of outrage from the Gruffalo as they struck home. Mallory was still in the field. As long as the Huntress didn’t catch onto him. We needed a game changer, and it looked like it had to be me.

Only problem was, I wasn’t as well versed in my newfound powers as I needed to be in order to truly help. I needed a plan. Something clever. Something wily.

My mind raced as I closed my eyes, trying to imagine something I could use to turn the tables. I could make a copy of the book to toss at the Huntress, but I didn’t know exactly what the book looked like, and I was confident that even if it did fool her, she would kill us all anyway upon nabbing the book in order to thwart her competitors.

I opened my eyes, ready to go with the tried and true slugfest.

And saw the darndest thing.

Tory stood before the crowd of fairies gripping a massive branch in one arm as if ready to use it to bat them all away. New growths of branches and leaves sprouted from the wooden club, and green tracers of light began racing up and down Tory’s arms as the impromptu weapon grew, and grew, filling out as a much better deterrent to the swarm of fairies about to attack her face. She glanced down, eyes startled, and I caught a green glimmer in her look. She turned back to the fairies to find them staring at her with astonishment. The swarm quivered as if battling a gust of wind, and then froze as Tory’s eyes flashed a brighter iridescent green, the same light I had just noticed a moment ago. The lead fairy trembled, and finally bowed his head to her. She blinked back, as if not fully understanding what had just happened.

The Gruffalo roared as it stomped into view, spittle flying from its massive tusks and its matted hair reeking to high heaven. The beast took a single threatening step and Tory turned her fiery gaze upon the creature.

It froze.

Then began to whine, shaking its head as if to battle a particularly painful sound. It stomped its heavy foot into the ground hard enough for me to feel it from behind my tree, but came no closer to Tory.

The Huntress screamed. “Kill her!”

The tormented Gruffalo flicked its gaze from Tory to the top of the Mausoleum, where I assumed the Huntress stood, shouting her demands. The beast shook its head again, eyes dancing wildly in frustration. It tried to take another step closer to Tory, but froze, snorting loudly.

Then, as if in a trance, Tory slowly lifted the branch to point at the stomping feet of the Gruffalo. Like ants to honey, the swarm of fairies dove onto their new target in a bloodcurdling scream of tiny voices. Again, and again, like a school of piranhas.

The Gruffalo shook his head violently, swinging his arms to and fro to bat them away, but they were always just out of reach. I heard the Huntress scream in fury as the Gruffalo turned and ran, the crowd of fairies pestering him the whole way. The air flickered, and all of them disappeared through a tear in the haze.

The Huntress screamed again, and raced after them. “This isn’t over, Temple!” She shrieked.

I turned back to Tory, not hiding my disbelief, and was just in time to catch a weak smile before her eyes fluttered closed and she collapsed, the branch in her hands thudding into the ground beside her.

“Mallory!” I bellowed, rushing to Tory. I heard twigs crackling underfoot as he raced toward my voice. I cradled her in my arms, thumbing back her eyelids. No fiery green light. And no response. But I did catch a pulse.

Mallory landed beside me as if from a great height, kneeling instantly to place a comforting hand on Tory’s stomach. His eyes flashed a golden yellow as his hand hovered just above her shirt, and yellow heat waves pulsed down into her. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly for a time before opening them to stare at me. The fog rapidly began to dissipate. “She’s fine…” he was shaking his head. “Just exhausted, Laddie. You need to get her to safety. No telling when those monsters will be back to finish what they started… and what she finished.” His look was curious, thoughtful.

I nodded, picking her up with a slight groan. Her head lolled into my shoulder. She had just saved our lives. Now I had to make sure she survived, because we definitely had some things to discuss. “Okay. You’re driving.” I wheezed, striding towards the car.

I didn’t hear him following so glanced over my shoulder. He was standing still, staring back at me, face torn. “Well?” I asked, impatiently.

He pointed back at the door to the Mausoleum. “It’s unguarded, boy…”

As if that was all the answer I needed.

I stared back incredulously. “And Tory is alive and injured. Who cares about a bunch of skeletons when Tory might be in very real danger?” I demanded, readjusting my grip. She was tiny, but dead weight was nothing to blink at. She didn’t even stir, she was so exhausted.

Mallory finally grunted. “I can help you to the car.”

“No, you can fucking drive, or do your magical nonsense on her to make sure we don’t lose her.” Mallory took her weight from me and I raced to start the car. I could have teleported us out of there, but I didn’t want to leave the car behind, announcing to all that we had been here. Especially when giant footprints covered the grounds and arrows were found embedded into the trees and Mausoleum. We tucked her inside the backseat safely and closed the door. Mallory stood still, uncertainty on his face.

“Get in,” I said, opening the driver’s side door.

He shook his head. “I cannot. The Mausoleum cannot be left unprotected. Your father’s orders. Even from beyond the grave.”

I stared incredulously. “And please tell me what is so important or dangerous about a building full of tombs? I would love to hear it,” I growled sarcastically.

He hesitated. “Some other time, Laddie. Looks like ye’ have enough on your plate as it is.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hurry up and lock the place down then, Mallory. But know this. If anything happens to her as a result of you prioritizing an empty building over her life, there will be a reckoning,” I promised, staring as intently into his soul as possible.

“Aye,” he added, lowering his gaze in shame.

“This isn’t over, Mallory…” I warned.

He was shaking his head with a sad frown. “Ye’ have no idea, Laddie… No idea…”

I didn’t have time for this. I climbed into the car, slamming the door as I did so. Mallory nodded once, and turned back to the Mausoleum, glancing left and right as if for a threat as the lightning spears came back to existence in one of his scarred fists. The other was already punching in a phone number on his cell phone before he placed it next to his ear, talking as his eyes continued to rove the area.

I shook my head, pulling out of the cemetery and glancing back at Tory’s unmoving form.

“Don’t die on me, Tory. You’ve got the Reds to look out for. And I need to know what the hell you just did,” I murmured to myself, angling the rear-view mirror to see her sleeping form. Her chest rose softly as if merely in a deep sleep. “What are you…?” I whispered to myself, remembering the flash of green in her fiery eyes, the rapid growth of the limb in her hands, the nullification of Baba’s magic, and the apparent immediate mind-fuck she had given the Gruffalo and fairies…

What was happening to everyone lately?

I was supposed to be the one taking care of them, but it seemed the girls were doing just fine without me, and I was merely bringing them problems to confront.

I turned my gaze back to the road, heading towards home base for safety.

Chateau Falco.

Chapter 37

Alucard stood in the driveway near the fountain, watching as I pulled up to the front door. He had called, telling me that there was too much heat outside the bookstore. The damage had been reported to the police, and although no one had seen anything, it seemed Greta had capitalized on the media – the fact that a group of Christian children selling cookies had been attacked in broad daylight.

Right outside my shop.

Alucard told me it was all over the news, and he had been forced to close shop rather than speaking to every reporter within a dozen feet. And, since he was a vampire, he couldn’t really just walk out into daylight to do so. And religious protestors flooded the street.

Fucking useless. I needed someone there to deflect any poor portrayal of my store, now that it was my primary source of income.

I parked the car, and Alucard glided to the backseat, opening the door to pick up Tory with his inhuman strength. The smell of sunblock struck my nose. He was liberally doused in it, as a matter of precaution. His face grimaced a bit at picking up an injured human, still starving for some fresh blood. But then his face changed to a look of disgust and he glanced down at her in surprise. His eyes turned to meet mine, watching him cautiously over the top of the car. I had been ready to throttle him into the fountain if his monster took over and decided it wanted just a nibble.

“What…” he began, glancing back down at her. “What happened, Nate?”

“Yes, Nate. What happened?” A new voice murmured from directly behind me.

I flinched, spun, and found myself facing the armed assassin, Van Helsing. I studied him up and down. He wore camo cargo pants, pockets bulging with additional bullets or weapons of some nature, tapering down to heavy combat boots polished to a dull shine. His torso was enshrouded in a bulletproof vest with all sorts of tactical straps holding weapons, knives, and clips of ammo. Twin pistols hung low on his hips, true monsters the likes of which I had never before seen. Two more hung across his chest in twin shoulder straps. A sword hung over his back, and a crossbow pointed at my nose, the metal tip black as night.

He winked and blew me a kiss. “From Van, with love.”

“Very brave…” I rolled my eyes, waving a hand at his arsenal.

He smiled back, and hooked the crossbow behind his back, holding out his hands in invitation. “Let’s dance, Maker. Been a while since I’ve had a good wrestle.” He said wrestle with an exaggerated redneck accent so that it sounded more like rasstle.

I Shadow Walked directly behind him, grasped the crossbow, and Shadow Walked back as his body began to turn. I pointed it directly at his face, halting his turn. Then I noticed that one of his hands held that deadly pistol pointed straight at my heart and his other hand held a pistol pointed at where I had been a millisecond ago behind him. Both were cocked and his finger was applying pressure to the trigger.

“Quick, boy. Just not quick enough. I know the sound of my weapons. If I notice the telltale creak of you pulling the trigger on that crossbow, my reflexes on this trigger will tighten and we will both die. Well, not me. I’m immortal,” he winked, slowly turning his head back to me. Not an ounce of concern showed on his face.

My phone began to ring.

I arched an eyebrow at him. He glanced down at my crossbow and his gun. “Truce.”

I nodded, slowly lowering the crossbow, finger still on the overlarge trigger. He lowered the pistols at exactly the same pace, watching me for any deceit. As the crossbow lowered parallel to my body and my finger released the trigger, he holstered both pistols and placed both hands on his hips, glancing down at my pocket where my phone was still ringing.

Did I dare risk answering it? Something about the sparkle in his eyes led me to believe that he would abide by his truce. It wouldn’t be fun otherwise. As if reading my gaze, his smile stretched wider and he nodded.

I sighed, withdrawing my phone and answering the call.

“Hello?” I didn’t even glance down at the screen to see who it was.

“Mind telling me what the hell is going on?” Gunnar roared. I could hear shouting and screaming in the background, punctuated by dozens of howls of outrage.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“There’s a rabid… Gruffalo pursued by a dozen tiny fairies, destroying anything it can get a hold of. It’s already taken out two of my wolves, and there is a familiar cackle off in the woods that reminds me of that Huntress bitch we ran into yesterday.” He muffled the phone as he bellowed commands to someone in the background.

“Shit.”

“Shit doesn’t fix the problem, Nate. What did you do?” He snarled. Before I could answer, he roared one last line. “Get over here and fix this!” and the sounds of battle erupted in the background after a sound similar to a phone striking the ground ended the call.

“Gunnar? Gunnar!” There was no response. I looked up in time to see a thoughtful look on Van’s face, and then he was simply gone.

“Where the hell did he go?” Alucard hissed.

“If we’re lucky, he went to join the party at Gunnar’s compound.” My mind raced. Whatever Tory had done had sent the Gruffalo off on a rampage, and either he had coincidentally ended up at Gunnar’s pack headquarters, or the Huntress had been able to influence events enough to point the berserk monster directly at my friend. Judging her, it seemed the most likely.

Dean opened the door, peering out cautiously. He held a sniper rifle in one hand. “I had him in my sights the entire time, Master Temple.” His eyes roved to Alucard, and then Tory. They tightened as he rested the gun against the doorframe, rushing to take her into his arms. Alucard did so with a sigh of relief that he was now free to act.

“Dean, take care of her… and…” I sighed to myself, “stop calling me Master-”

The door shut with a solid thud and deadbolts instantly began clicking into place.

“Bastard,” I grumbled.

“Why would he call you Master Bastard?” Alucard asked, deadpan.

I shot him a deadly glare only to find him grinning. “Let’s go join the party,” he amended, fangs glistening into existence as his eyes flashed a crimson red. Fainter than usual, but still there. If he had been stocked up on human blood, the color would have been much more vibrant, but at least he still had some reserves. The blood bags had been helping him. Staving him over. I just hoped it would be enough to help Gunnar.

“Let’s go save some flea-ridden dogs,” I muttered, holding out my hand. Alucard chuckled, his cool hand grasping my outstretched palm. The world folded in on itself as I Shadow Walked us to Silver Gardens Apartments, the home of the local werewolf pack.

Chapter 38

We appeared in the center of the parking lot of the apartment complex.

Except it had been updated a tad since I had last been here. The property had been bought in recent weeks, and I had presumed it to be some new investor, but I hadn’t blinked an eye, because after having shut down Temple Industries I could use the cash. None of the other partial owners had disagreed either, being as they were heavy investors in anything I touched.

They had spruced up the place. Extravagant trees now surrounded the apartment grounds, and the paint, siding, parking lot, had all been refinished, giving the place a pristine feeling only a new home could provide. And the stink of werewolf dominated, whereas before it had been a majority of werewolves living here with some non-magical people thrown in for good measure.

Now it was a werewolf complex.

Only.

And almost every car in the parking lot was new and higher priced than most low income apartment complexes typically sported.

Alucard glanced at me sideways. “Do you buy swanky digs for all your friends?”

I shook my head, quickly losing interest in the locale as the result of several nearby screams and howls. “This wasn’t me. Some real estate group bought it and must have polished it up. Let’s go find Gunnar.”

We began jogging towards the sounds of violence, bloodcurdling howls and roars from an otherworldly creature, urged on by the constant commands of the Huntress. I heard clanging sounds, and only had to assume the worst. Van was here having fun too. I growled under my breath, Alucard agreeing with his own snarl as he also recognized the sound.

The fighting was taking place just beyond the last building, and as we rounded the corner we skidded to a halt short of a world gone mad. Wolves the size of Great Danes howled and ranged in small packs of two or three, harrying the monstrosity that was the Gruffalo, who sported a half dozen very noticeable wounds on his hide and flanks.

No sooner had the beast lunged to attack one group as it fled, another would swipe in from the opposite direction to quickly attack and injure before also darting out. Typical wolf tactics. Not to instantly kill, but to slowly bleed their prey to death in a coordinated combined attack from all directions. Wolves worked as packs, silently communicating with each other on a level that was profound, and gut-wrenchingly beautiful to behold.

But different than in most wolf hunts, two lone wolves were not taking a break to disappear after their attacks. Unlike how the other wolves darted in as pairs and then quickly dashed off to safety, awaiting their next turn. But two of the wolves constantly, persistently, undoubtingly continued attack after attack after attack.

One giant arctic white wolf, the other a smaller black wolf stood on opposing sides of the beast, appearing almost to grin, muzzles dripping with blood and saliva as their lips curled back into hungry snarls. The white wolf sported a single eye, and was almost twice the size of the other wolves when his fur was puffed out like it was now. Still, even without that he made the other wolves look small, especially the smaller black wolf partnered with him, who was smaller than the other wolves in the pack.

Gunnar and Ashley.

As if harboring a death wish, Ashley darted directly in front of the Gruffalo, taunting him with pointed yips. The Gruffalo snarled, one of his massive tusks a broken, jagged mess as he swung a gargantuan fist straight down at the midnight black tiny werewolf.

I took a quick step forward, already flinging my hand up to smoke the monster with whips of fire, but I hesitated as I saw Ashley react.

She darted back a few paces in a single, twisting leap. She landed in a crouch as the fist hammered into the earth where she had just stood. She instantly exploded from her crouch, launching herself up onto the Gruffalo’s now lowered arm, using it as a freaking ramp to suddenly perch on the Gruffalo’s shoulders. She lunged in with hungry teeth and tore out his eye, then used his cheek to kick herself off back to solid ground.

The Gruffalo let out a cry that threatened to set off car alarms, both in rage and exquisite pain.

Then there was Gunnar. As the Gruffalo threw up his hands to his ruined eye, Gunnar suddenly pummeled into the Gruffalo’s stomach, tearing open a wide patch and continuing on so that he freaking tore the skin away like a boiled tomato. He shook his head, the flap of skin tearing free of the Gruffalo with a disgusting sound and the creature practically howled, swinging wildly to try and prevent any further attacks.

And Gunnar gobbled it up.

Two arrows suddenly sailed out of the playground area, impaling two wolves standing on the edge of the garden. As one, the other wolves hunched low, and after Gunnar’s howl, tore off toward the playground, but I knew her too well. Alucard made as if to follow, a furious gleam in his eyes, but I latched onto his shirt, yanking him back. He turned feral crimson eyes on me, snarling, and I pointed him behind us to find the Huntress standing there, bow in one hand, other hand on her hip. She was smiling, but not happily. In anticipation.

“Don’t have your creature here to save you now. Or your Lightbringer. Did you think your ruse could make a real difference? Turning my creatures against each other? They are wild. Of course, they can turn on each other. I bet you thought she had real power.” Her eyes danced with hunger at mention of Tory, but the look quickly flashed away. “I’ll deal with her later. But now look what I’ve done. I’ve turned their rage against your own pet wolves, and now I’ll even have a few new skins for my winter coat,” her smile dripped venom. “I’ve turned the hunted into hunters. Just took a little redirection, and to get rid of those fickle fairies. Now my beast is back under proper control.” She quickly nocked an arrow and pointed it at me. “No tiny girls here to save you this time.”

“Nope, but it looks like my puppies are doing just fine against the big bad Gruffalo,” I smiled.

She stretched the bowstring back further. “Hand over the book and I’ll make sure my arrow severs your spinal cord before you feel a single moment of pain.”

I swallowed, already holding my power ready to deflect her attack in case she twitched accidentally. “Well, that’s very generous of you, Pocahontas. Especially since I’m helpless without my tiny girls here to protect me…” Her eyes tightened at my insolent tone. “But you seem to have a few chipmunks up your ears, or you’re dead…” I leaned forward as if to whisper a secret. “I. Don’t. Have. It.” Then I leaned back, assessing her with an imploring look. “Did you hear me that time?”

“Your arrogance will get you killed one of these days.” She smiled wickedly. “Most dislike it. I, however, find it… interesting. Much as I do that tiny girl who so cleverly dismantled my trap.” Her eyes grew distant and thoughtful, but that arrow kept right on pointing at my throat. Alucard was entirely still, but I knew he would be ready to move in a heartbeat.

I waited, sure she was about to kill me. “So…”

“Yes,” her gaze snapped back to me. “I hear your words, but I sense its presence regardless. Every time I am near you, in fact. I’m really a simple girl, Temple. If something makes me uneasy, I hunt it down, kill it, skin it, and admire the skin as a trophy on my wall.” Her bow dipped slightly as if to point at me. “Right now, you are making me uneasy.”

“Imagine how I feel…” I muttered.

“Speak, or forever be silenced.”

I threw up my hands. “I don’t know! Check with Van or Baba,” and I unleashed the power I had been holding this entire time. I simultaneously froze her hands still, and latched out with a whip of fire as I brought my hands down. The arrow loosed as her eyes widened in surprise, but my whip of fire latched on to the bow, igniting it in flame hot enough to burn it to ash almost instantly. I felt a rush of air from my left as something sailed just past my face.

And the craziest thing happened.

A second arrow struck the Huntress’ arrow in midflight, altering the trajectory so that it went straight over my head and off into the sky. But the second arrow continued on straight ahead, and thunked into a large tree… about two inches above a massive white werewolf’s head, who was silently staring at the altercation between the Huntress and I. The wolf didn’t flinch, growl, or make any move whatsoever. It merely lifted its single eye to stare at the newest person on the dance floor.

I still held my whip of fire, now coiled in a pool beside my foot, flickering between black, red, and yellow, just like the coals of a fire pit – the hottest section of a fire. I glanced over lazily to see Van studying us.

“He might just be telling the truth. What I sense is faint, as if he may have touched it, but now it’s gone.”

The Huntress scowled at the man who had ruined her hunt, but finally nodded. “Perhaps. But you shall pay for disturbing my kill,” she promised. Van rolled his eyes as if hearing a toddler threaten his life against ever stealing his toy truck again.

“And look who is missing from our reunion…” I offered.

They exchanged glances with me, then each other. “Baba,” they grumbled in unison.

“Then if you guys are finished here, I’ll politely ask you to fuck off now. Bye.”

They slowly swiveled their heads my way, and I noticed Alucard tensing, prepared to fight. My peripheral gaze caught Gunnar crouching down in anticipation. “Nate…” Alucard warned in a frustrated whisper.

“Why do you guys want this thing so badly? I mean, suddenly all four of us want this book at exactly the same time. At least I can claim ignorance. I don’t even know what it is. I’m just a hired gun looking to buy it for a client. But you three… you guys know what it is and suddenly you all just have to have it. Something like that would make me mighty curious. Perhaps if we knew each other’s motivations we would find some common thread… or common threat if there is indeed an unknown person in the background pulling the puppet’s strings.” Their eyes darted here and there – at each other, at me, at Gunnar, Alucard, and their surroundings in general, as if waiting for Baba to appear.

“I’m just here for fun,” Van commented. “Aren’t we all having fun?”

The Huntress didn’t seem fazed by this, and instead turned to face me. “I need it to repay a debt.” Van flinched at this answer, but quickly hid his response from all but me. The Huntress was too busy watching me to notice.

“You made a deal with someone?” She didn’t respond, merely staring at me, seeming surprised that she had even shared as much as she had.

“Okay. Thanks for being honest.” I turned to Van. “Nice bullshit answer, Van. Why do you really want it? You wouldn’t be throwing yourself into this without a very beneficial reason, am I right?”

He finally nodded stubbornly, forcefully keeping his eye contact from the Huntress.

“It’s…” he exchanged another look with the Huntress, who finally nodded with a resigned sigh. “It’s lucky.”

“Lucky,” I repeated in disbelief. “You three are out trying to kill each other, and me, because you want a glorified rabbit’s foot.” They merely scowled at me. Then I began to laugh, finally resorting to resting my hands on my thighs as the laughter completely began to consume me.

“What’s so funny, boy…?” Van warned dangerously.

I shook my head and straightened, gathering my laughter back under control with a few deep breaths. “It’s just that…” another breath, “you guys are assuming I have it…” I stared at them to find them nodding. “…but I’m about the unluckiest son of a bitch in the world. What could possibly make you think I have it?” They didn’t look pleased, so I decided to dump some gasoline on the fire. “Baba mentioned it grants wishes…” I casually threw it out there, and their response was glorious.

“That’s… ridiculous,” Van said. The Huntress was frowning.

I nodded. “Kind of makes you wonder… if we were all told something different about the book, which one is the truth? And who has been lying to us?” I let my question hang in the air.

The Gruffalo suddenly lurched into the clearing, heavy brows hooded as it glared at Van. Then it took a threatening step forward, likely wanting to protect the Huntress. Faster than I could follow, Van had the crossbow bolt out, and exactly six bolts were suddenly airborne. They hammered into the Gruffalo’s arm, which was folded in front of its face for protection, but two of them struck the open wound across the Gruffalo’s body.

The Huntress was screaming in fury, and had a throwing knife in each hand, flinging them at Van’s unsuspecting back. He dove, rolled, and the daggers sailed past him as the Gruffalo stomped where he had just stood. Then he was gone. The Huntress screamed, and disappeared herself, threatening the vilest curses imaginable towards Van. The Gruffalo heaved labored breaths, staring at the empty space that had belonged to his master. Then his eyes roamed over towards the pack of wolves, Alucard, and myself. He let out a roar, one hand clutching his open wound, and then stepped backwards, the air quivering as if in a heat wave, and he was just as abruptly gone.

“Well… that was… confusing,” Alucard said.

Gunnar and the majority of the other wolves shifted back into human form, and suddenly dozens of naked people surrounded Alucard and I. He looked uncomfortable, as if unsure whether it was polite to acknowledge their nudity or if he was supposed to ignore it. Also, he was a vampire, and wolves and vampires didn’t typically get along well. He was on edge.

The crowd slowly surrounded us, faces blank as they watched, waiting for someone to say something, I guessed. I scanned the faces. I recognized a few, having fought either against them or beside them during the Grimm battle, but most were new to me. Black, white, a few different shades between those. Old, young, skinny, chunky, handsome, average. I mean, it was kind of surprising to me.

One always had the idea that supernatural shifters were all steamy Romance cover quality pretty or buff or proportioned… or all three. Or that they were all Biker Gang types. Or all Native American. Listen, what I mean is that one typically assumed that each member of a pack had something physically in common with the rest, or that they would all look similar.

But Gunnar’s pack was politically correct, so to speak, which if they hadn’t all been staring at me so intently, would have made me shake my head in amusement. Leave it to Gunnar to be so fair, as to have equal representation among his pack. Or, knowing Gunnar better, I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that he had hunted down all victims of werewolf attacks in the surrounding counties, and adopted them into his fold, sharing with the victims the true story about the nightmare that had befallen them. Explaining their first shift in forms they could relate to, rather than them denying it, keeping it bottled up inside, unable to share with their very normal friends and family.

Yeah, that tracked.

But these people didn’t particularly look welcoming. In fact, they looked hard. Despite their differences, these werewolves were all closet warriors. And the only thing that could do that to such a diverse group was having a strong Alpha.

As if on cue, the crowd parted silently, not even looking, and Gunnar stood before us. Ashley stood by his side, looking wild and dangerous. As if she didn’t know me. Gunnar placed a hand on her arm, and her features visibly calmed. As the pair approached, the other werewolves finally acknowledged their Alpha with a discreet glance of reverence and respect to his back.

Or maybe they were just admiring the Alpha and his fiancé’s rear ends. Hey, dogs did that kind of thing, right?

Gunnar nodded at me and Alucard, his head angled so that his one good eye could see us. “We should probably talk, Nate.” His voice was hard, and entirely unfriendly.

I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” He turned away, and Alucard and I found ourselves silently ushered towards one of the buildings. I noticed that one of the werewolves was quivering as if in pain as it followed on the fringes of the pack, still in wolf form. Then it fell over, and abruptly shifted to human form. The figure let out a single cry of pain and then passed out.

The pack instantly exploded back into werewolf form, surrounding the fallen figure with yips and howls of warning. “Stop!” Gunnar commanded, and they just barely listened.

My heart lurched up into my chest as I watched, knowing I wouldn’t be fast or strong enough to stop them from tearing the figure to shreds, but I would do my damned best.

Because the naked form lying on the ground was Indie.

Chapter 39

Ignoring warning growls, I rushed to her side, skidding to my knees as I tore off my shirt to cover her. She was shaking as if cold, and her amulet hung between her breasts. The amulet that made her a Grimm.

The amulet that forced her to shift into whatever supernatural she was in close proximity to. Well, forced until she learned to control it. Once she mastered her control, she would be able to resist such urges, or to act upon them of her own free will. But right now, she was a loose cannon. Hence her posing as one of the wolves, and so well that they hadn’t even noticed. Which, judging by their reaction, surely infuriated… and worried them. And she looked to be fresh out of the hospital.

“I need to get her inside. A change of clothes,” I growled at Gunnar who was standing beside me, holding out a hand to keep Ashley back. Her hands were claws, and she was openly snarling, not fully in wolf form, but still barely keeping it back, thanks to Gunnar. I could see that he was squeezing her arm tightly, and that little by little she was getting her breathing back under control, especially now that Indie was no longer a threat.

Gunnar stared at me, shaking his head.

“I know.” Ashley had about as much control over her newfound werewolf ability as Indie did with her Grimm ability. Which made double-dates kind of impossible. Gunnar and I had been friends since childhood, and now, at our happiest moment – both engaged to be married – we couldn’t go hang out with our pal and his fiancé. Unless we wanted to change our date night into a tag-team wrestling match… with claws and fangs. Gunnar nodded after a second, murmured something into Ashley’s ear, and then he turned to lead us back to our original destination. Ashley remained behind with a pair of other wolves. She exploded into wolf form after a moment and the three began loping off into the distance as if going to check the perimeter for more threats.

Then I had a sobering thought.

Or to pick up the bodies of the fallen, of which I was sure there were several.

I shook my head, following my friend. Alucard stayed on my heels, making sure I was safe from attack. He was good at the monster thing. Manager thing though… not so much.

I disregarded my concern about an attack as I stared down at Indie’s face. I murmured under my breath, “What are you doing here…?”

Of course, there was no response. But I did notice several wolves glance over at me curiously. I hadn’t thought about their supernatural hearing. I kept my eyes forward, wanting to get Indie clothed, safe, and back home. And presumably, to a doctor.

After I dealt with the big bad wolf, of course.

I twisted enough to fit through the doorway of the clubhouse office, which I found momentarily odd, fearing to find the manager sitting there staring in confusion as an army of naked people suddenly descended on her. Then I took notice of our surroundings. Boxes were piled everywhere, and loose dog toys, bowls, bags of dog food, leashes, and basically any other type of accessory designed for a pooch covered almost every square inch. Except for the office space which still looked functional, and even had three monitors and two phones. I noticed the same logo as on the boxes on one of the screens.

Underdog – Get it or get bit!

I blinked, glancing over at a nearby box to make sure I had read the slogan right. Yep.

I turned to Gunnar, who was now facing me with a cool gaze. “That’s catchy…”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “That was the point.”

“So, what… you’re running a,” I glanced around the room trying to come up with the words, “a dog toy company?” He shrugged.

“It pays the bills.” He cracked a wry grin. “More than pays the bills. We own the apartment now, thanks to Ashley. Business expense. She’s quite invaluable…” his eyes hardened. “In more ways than one.” I swallowed, setting Indie down on an empty sofa that used to be the sample model for the apartment complex. I turned back to my old friend. “You put her and my pack in danger tonight. With the mess, the one I told you that I didn’t want to be involved in.” I could feel the tension in the air from the other wolves, who all stood in silence, watching, waiting, expectant.

“I didn’t send them here. They attacked Tory, Mallory, and I outside the Mausoleum. Tory sent them running. The Huntress turned that defeat into a counterattack against you. Your name was never brought up, so I don’t know why or how she randomly chose you, or how she knew where to find your home.”

He grunted. “She’s a hunter. She scented me at the first meeting. Wouldn’t be difficult for her to find me after.” He looked pained. “Nate, I know this wasn’t your fault, but my pack was still placed into danger… because of you.” I swallowed, nodding slowly with guilt. “Some died.”

“I know…”

“You are reckless.”

My shoulders tightened instinctively, ready to snap back a defense, but I bit my tongue. He was right. I needed to start taking responsibility for my actions. I had been raised in an imaginary world where I was above the law, untouchable, in both the mortal world and the supernatural world. Now, the mortals had no fear of me. I was a failure in their eyes. And… although feared in the supernatural world, if I was being honest with myself, I had merely survived a handful of very dangerous circumstances by utilizing a combination of my skills, cleverness, friends, and a whole hell of a lot of luck.

I had surrounded myself with capable people, and together, we had gotten through some pretty extraordinary scrapes pretty much unscathed. I glanced up at Gunnar’s face, and flinched in shame.

Except last time.

Gunnar had lost an eye.

Misha had been killed.

Ashley had been unwillingly turned into a werewolf.

Indie had become a Grimm… having to die in order to do so.

And countless others had died. Names I didn’t even know.

Gunnar had been forced to kill the Alpha of the local werewolf pack, taking his place, and although he had accepted it, even found new purpose with the responsibility… it was all my fault.

I needed to grow up.

I nodded once at Gunnar, hardening my resolve.

His gaze was tough, thoughtful, and demanding. “Stupid. Irresponsible…” each word was a lash that made me grit my teeth to endure. But they were all fair. “Careless,” the words began to wash over me in a steady rhythm. I didn’t ignore them, but embraced them, acknowledging and accepting them like scars from a battle. It was a new experience for me.

Because I had never in my life let anyone talk to me this way for this long without extreme retaliation. It was… humbling. I noticed Alucard watching at first in anger, then astonishment, and then concern, as if wondering which of the words would be Gunnar’s last.

With my past, and even in the brief window Alucard had known me, he knew me well enough to understand that no one had ever talked to me this way. Especially not with an audience to witness my shame.

“…Noble. Cunning. Self-sacrificing. Son of a bitch.” The room was silent, and I found myself slowly grinning as I caught his last words. Gunnar was assessing me with a reserved pride. I nodded back, not trusting myself with words. And I wasn’t about to try to shake hands.

Listen, I was new to humiliation. No need to ruin it by decking him.

Indie stirred on the couch. I was beside her in an instant, hovering over her as she fully woke, eyes shooting wide open as she realized she was naked, and that a crowd was watching her. She tucked her legs up closer in an effort for my shirt to cover her entirely. She latched onto my arm, fingers digging into my flesh as her eyes danced wildly. I began murmuring a soothing chant under my breath, something one of the monks had taught me years ago when I had first met them. It just kind of came to me, and I realized I had heard it over the past few weeks as they worked.

The tone instantly caught her attention, and her eyes calmed, her fingers loosened, and a small smile split her cheeks as her eyes finally met mine. I caught one last flicker of lightning in her irises, and then she gasped, hands shooting to my face. She wiped my cheeks, fingers coming away wet. I stared at them, not understanding.

“Nate’s a big girl without you looking after him, Indie. A sobbing mess-” The dog bowl was in my hand before I realized it, and sailing through the air to smash into Alucard’s forehead with a resounding clang.

Gunnar burst out laughing, and I flashed a guilty grin. Indie was sitting up, staring over the couch as Alucard climbed to his feet with a grumbled protest. “He can say all that and you cry, but I say one thing and get clobbered by a dog bowl?”

Gunnar piped up. “Nate and I have beaten the living hell out of each other for decades. I’m pretty sure I am the only one whom he would have allowed to say those things to him.” I nodded as he shot a look my way. “And the only one who could have said those things while imparting a much more important lesson that he actually heard…” I smiled guiltily, and kissed Indie on the cheeks.

“You guys found out I was tailing you…” Indie whispered guiltily.

Gunnar grunted, ordering his wolves out to give us some privacy while he and Alucard remained with us. “I knew it all along, but apparently, none of the others recognized you.” His eyes grew thoughtful. “I’ll have to remedy that. Perhaps once you get a bit more control you would like to come over and… play with my pack?”

Indie grinned. “Would love to. But it may be a while. I think Ashley and I both have a lot to learn before that is a safe option.” Gunnar shrugged, reaching into a wardrobe. He tossed Indie a pair of leggings and a long tee that said, God Save The Queen. She tossed it on eagerly, and then a pair of flip flops landed beside her, much too large, but at least it was something.

“How did you know to come here?” I asked softly.

“I saw your… talk with Van. And Tory. So I Shadow Walked here.” I blinked.

“Oh,” I responded lamely. No big deal, she had just Shadow Walked, tapping into my Maker power, riding my coattails.

“I didn’t have Alucard’s umbrella sword, so decided to try and blend in with the pack. I took a swipe at that monster thing,” she beamed proudly.

“Gruffalo,” I said, still trying to wrap my head around what she had so casually done.

She frowned. “The children’s story?”

I nodded, turning back to Gunnar. “I’m sorry about everything. We’ll get out of your hair and figure this stuff out on our own. I-”

“No.” His fingers flexed into fists as he turned to the window, staring out at the parking lot. “Members of my pack have died. Now we’re involved. I can’t let them sit here. They must seek vengeance.”

I exchanged a look with Indie, who knew Gunnar pretty well. She piped up before I could. “That’s not really… how you work, Gunnar.”

He was silent as he continued studying the parking lot, the apartment buildings, and a form or two that darted across the pavement, too quick to be human. Then I spotted two forms carrying a dead wolf across their back, eyes downcast. His voice was rough. “We all change, right, Nate?”

I cleared my throat, torn at seeing my friend this way, but understanding that it was only logical that we meet in the middle. Me, to learn some much-needed responsibility, and Gunnar, to learn some recklessness. I shivered at the thought of what we would be like in a few years. “Yeah.” I let the silence carry for a bit. Alucard was rubbing his head idly, where a faint cut was already healing. He saw me and instantly dropped his hand with a scowl.

“We need to get out of here. I need answers. You need to take care of your pack. Let’s meet up at Chateau Falco later, unless I call you with a change of plans.”

He turned a hard eye in my direction. “You better call. I want in on this.”

I nodded, unsure whether to smile in relief or cringe in regret at what I had made him become.

I clasped hands with both Indie and Alucard, and a vertical slit of light sliced into the room, instantly spiraling into a circular shape alive with green sparks racing into the center of the opening. I could faintly see a field in the distance. I tugged my shirt back on, and then had a thought. I asked Gunnar for another set of clothes. He frowned, but didn’t say anything as he complied. Indie and Alucard were watching me, frowning at the clothes and the field on the other side of the gateway.

I nodded in thanks at Gunnar and stepped through the gateway. He stepped into view on the other side and nodded back at me before turning away. I let the power evaporate as I took a deep breath of…

Meadow muffins.

“Gross,” Alucard muttered.

“Oh… this probably wasn’t a good idea, Nate. I can’t control-”

I pressed a finger to her lips. “I’m counting on it,” I winked. They both stared in confusion as I crept through the field, dodging cow patties, and masking our stealthy advance. Full night was coming. Perfect for this sort of thing.

Chapter 40

I masked our approach, hoping against hope to bring a little bit of light to my day.

Something for everyone to laugh at.

Well, everyone but the Minotaur, of course.

I scanned the field, but the evening was cloudy and it wasn’t easy to spot anything limned in the darkness. I spotted a shape, pointed urgently, and began creeping towards it, hoping it wasn’t simply a hay bale.

I felt a faint flicker to the air on my right, and knew I was too late. I threw up a last-second shield of air.

A force slammed into me, shattering my shield, and knocking me back several dozen paces. I briefly landed on my side with an expulsion of pain as the air shot out of my lungs, and the spare clothes went flying into the air. Then I continued to tumble ass over teakettle, feeling and smelling several slick icky patches along the way, until I finally came to a stop. I gasped, trying to get my breath back, shuddering in pain as my entire side felt bruised.

And I heard laughter. Great, booming, snorting bouts of laughter. From three different throats. I climbed to my feet and picked up the spare clothes as I limped back to the group, finally getting my breathing under control. Asterion was practically crying he was laughing so hard, clutching his knees as his overly large prayer beads swung in front of his chest. Alucard was clapping and Indie, upon seeing my face, was desperately trying not to show me how funny she thought it was.

I scowled. “Ha. Ha. Ha,” I muttered.

“Fool me twice…” Asterion managed between snorts, his massive nose ring swinging freely and dripping Minotaur snot as his laughter again got the best of him.

“Okay. I get it. I’m an idiot.”

Asterion finally began to calm down, taking deep bellows of breath before he finally extended to his full height with a sigh. He took one look at me, and his eyes shot up to my hair, and he instantly fell over, laughing all over again. I turned to Alucard and Indie. They took one look and doubled over, barely able to breathe.

I lifted my hand to touch my head only to find my hair sticking straight up on one side, styled perfectly with a fresh, steaming pile of… a totally organic – and extremely fresh – form of hair product… I stepped up to Asterion, childishly ripped off a patch of his leg hair – at which he suddenly stopped laughing – and used it to try and wipe off the majority of the mess. He clutched his thigh with a wince, but continued his laughter, slowly climbing to his feet.

“Oh, how I wish there had been more people to witness that…” he wheezed.

“Not very Zen of you, Asterion…” I muttered.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “All in good fun. I believe you are now experiencing exactly what I felt during that dragon ordeal…” he winked. I rolled my eyes, nodding. Glancing back at my friends, I threw up my hands in protest to find they were still laughing. But as I turned back to Asterion, I was also grinning at the ridiculousness of it. I deserved it.

And you know what?

I had wanted something to boost everyone’s spirits. I had just hoped to be uplifted too, not to be the brunt of the humor. Oh well. It took care of my friends. Which was what truly mattered to me. I wanted them to know that deep down, I didn’t only introduce them to new worlds of hardship and pain, but also to the fun side of the supernatural.

I winked at Asterion, and he nodded knowingly, shooting a quick look at my friends still giggling behind me. He reached out a hand and gripped mine in a firm shake. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Temple? Your visits are becoming a ritual, it seems.”

I nodded distantly, murmuring under my breath as I stepped closer. “I need some help, but I also want you to take a look at Indie. See if you can sense anything… off about her.” Asterion blinked, frowning slightly. I slapped his arm. “Don’t give it away. I’m serious. Just do… whatever it is you do and pay attention for anything unusual. I don’t know what else to say.”

He hesitated. “She looks… sickly.”

I shivered. “I know…” I turned to my friends. “You guys coming?”

They were smiling, but Indie glanced about the field thoughtfully. “Where exactly are we following you? We’re in the middle of a field.”

I smirked, growling good naturedly under my breath. “Rookies…” Asterion shook his massive horned head in amusement. “Lead on…” I told him.

We walked for a few minutes, seeming with no apparent goal in mind, and I began to hear Indie and Alucard whispering doubtfully to each other. Then, between one moment and the next, we were suddenly in a massive circular area surrounded by fiery torches, and a pool of never-ending darkness beyond that. The very tips of the earth blazed in a fiery red as if the horizon was experiencing a wildfire. But it was just a beautiful sunset, frozen eternally at the last moment.

The Dueling Grounds.

I glanced back to gauge their reactions since they were walking behind us and likely would have simply seen us disappear into thin air. The air rippled a moment later and Alucard stumbled to a halt, flinching in recognition. His startled gaze took me in, remembering the first time we had met and how he had ‘killed’ me here.

But he hadn’t known at the time that one couldn’t die at the Dueling Grounds.

Indie appeared a heartbeat later, fingers outstretched as if to claw someone, and face set in a murderous snarl. Then, like an idiot, I realized how stupid my timing had been.

She buckled to her knees, grasping fistfuls of the earth, and she began to shift.

Horns abruptly sprouted from her head, and coarse hair burst out all over her body, shredding her clothes as she shifted. She grunted once, climbing to her feet, her new clothes a tattered ruin, and she was a good eight feet tall. Alucard gasped, using his vampire speed to suddenly dart a dozen paces away. Indie snorted through a somehow more feminine-looking snout than Asterion’s wide nose, eyes ablaze as they latched onto the Minotaur, who looked utterly stunned. He pointed at her in disbelief, then his gaze locked onto me. “That. That is definitely off.” He hissed, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t shouting loud enough for all to hear.

“Indietaur!” Alucard yelled.

I didn’t have time to roll my eyes as I quickly jumped in front of her, holding up my hands. “Indie. It’s me. Nate. I’m fine. That idiot is Alucard. And this is the totally peaceful Buddhist, formerly known as the Minotaur. He’s a friend and means us no harm,” I begged, making no sudden movements. She began panting louder, and shook her head as if from a particularly abhorrent smell. But her face looked confused. “Yes. That’s right. There. Is. No. Threat.” I slowly spread my hands, and began inching lower and lower to the ground in a slow squat. I had read somewhere that matadors and cowboys used the tactic to soothe and calm startled animals. I continued inching, as slow as molasses, down to the ground, until I was squatting on my heels, palms flat on the earth.

In my peripheral, I noticed that Alucard hadn’t moved a muscle, appearing as still as a statue.

Indie’s gaze was locked onto mine as she panted, the fury in her eyes fading fast as she struggled to regain control. This would be a first. She was doing it! I wanted to clap for joy, but didn’t want to risk startling her.

“Incredible!” Asterion boomed, the sound shattering the peaceful blanket I had so lovingly settled around Indie’s instinct.

And all hell broke loose. She leapt over me, pounding towards Asterion in a blur of cloven feet, legs as thick as my torso, one hand lifted behind her back as if ready to throw a football.

Asterion grunted in bewilderment, but instantly lifted his arms to defend himself from her rage. I rolled to safety beside Alucard, thinking furiously. “At least it’s here where no one can really get hurt,” Alucard whispered, pulling me to my feet by my collar in one smooth vampiric motion. As if I weighed as little as a small pillow.

I nodded absently, turning back to see Indie unleash her fist straight at Asterion’s nose. He lifted his own fist to meet perfectly with hers so that it looked like they were purposely punching each other’s fists. The meaty thud should have shattered both of their hands, but instead it merely made Alucard and I cringe like teenagers at their first horror movie. I heard a single pop as if one of them had simply cracked their knuckle, and both fists stayed exactly where they had connected, strength versus strength locking them in place in perfect balance.

Indie dipped her head and lunged, but Asterion twisted at the last second, grasping her by the back of the neck, slamming her down into the earth. Her hooves scored into the dirt as she kicked and bellowed, but Asterion simply held her down, and began chanting to her.

The very air began to vibrate with power, and his voice seemed to make my soul quiver like a struck guitar chord. Alucard watched in shock, eyes flicking to me questioningly. I shrugged absently, transfixed with the sound that I could physically feel. I could almost imagine envisioning the selfsame air shimmering before me in waves of spectral light, but shook it off. Then again, I noticed Alucard take a step forward, reaching out with one hand as if to pluck something from the air, so maybe it wasn’t just me. He frowned, obviously not touching anything.

Indie’s hooves slowly calmed, and she shivered violently with one last snort of defiance. Asterion kept right on chanting, focusing entirely on Indie. After a few tense moments, she stopped moving altogether, and with one last sigh, her form rippled beneath the Minotaur’s palm, and she was suddenly human again. Asterion opened his eyes, smiled in satisfaction at his success, and then ripped his hand away as if burned, realizing Indie was stark naked.

He turned his back to her, taking a big step and holding up his hands as if about to be arrested. “My apologies, Indie.”

I rushed to her side, turning her over. Her eyes stared up at me, clear and calm, and she let out a slow, languorous smile. “That was… nice.”

I blinked. “Nice?”

She nodded back, gaze drifting up to the sea of stars above us. “Yes, I feel so relaxed. Like with the monks the other night…” But she sure didn’t look better. I would have guessed her to be a cancer patient.

“Well, don’t fall asleep on me.” She laughed softly, and I helped her to her feet. I began to take off my coat for her to cover herself, but she pinched her nose and took a step back.

“I’d really rather not. I think after so many times I’m kind of comfortable with you guys seeing me naked. Especially with,” she waved a hand at my shirt, “that as my alternative.” Her eyes twinkled, and I scowled at her for good measure. I instead handed her the clothes still clutched in my fist, which I had brought for just this occasion.

Asterion was blindly handing a scarf behind him, something that had been attached to his robes, a sash of some kind. But it was large enough for her to make a toga of some kind. She took it rather than the outfit in my hands. I glanced down to see streaks of manure and growled. Indie wrapped herself up in the scarf like a cloak. Asterion wouldn’t turn around until she insisted she was decent. Even then, he glanced at me as if for permission.

Indie didn’t like that one bit. “You don’t need his permission,” she warned, “you need mine.”

I grinned at the helpless look on his face and shrugged. He slowly turned to face her, ready to spin back away if necessary. Seeing her clothed, he let out a heavy sigh and nodded, meeting her eyes finally.

Then Indie flung open the sash to flash him.

He practically fell down in shock, and Alucard and I burst out laughing. Indie smirked at me, then covered herself back up. Asterion stammered apology upon apology, but Indie just grinned at him. “I’ve spent too much time around Nate. His penchant for distasteful jokes has rubbed off on me. But your glance got under my skin.” He nodded respectfully, climbing to his feet. “So to speak…” she added, laughing lightly.

“I apologize for seeming to ask his permission. It wasn’t intended as anything but courtesy.”

“My body. My permission. No one else. Nate gets that. The rest of the world needs to catch up to modern times.” I began laughing harder at the look on Asterion’s face. She rolled her eyes, and extended her elbow, offering him the chance to lead her to the table near the edge of the ring of torches. “Chivalry is not dead, but it has changed a bit. But some things never go out of style…” she winked. He let out a breath of relief and escorted her to the table, regaining his composure.

Alucard and I followed. “She’s a wild one, alright,” Alucard whispered. I nodded, smiling proudly.

We joined them at the table and took seats. “Sorry about that, Asterion. I take it Nate has told you about my… affliction.” Indie began. He nodded back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“He hadn’t described it accurately enough. I especially didn’t think it possible to shift to a creature like me. More just the human variety of freak. To shift into a creature as old as me…” he whispered as if to himself, eyes glazing over. He snapped back to focus. “Is astounding. If I hadn’t been studying Buddhism, I doubt I would have been able to calm you so quickly. It would have been a brawl.” His eyes flickered to mine, squinting as an idea registered. I grinned back. “Which is likely exactly why he brought you here of all places. Without warning any of us.”

Everyone turned to face me. I shrugged, nodding with a faint smile. “I wanted to see what would happen. I need to know her limits. And what better safety net than here?”

Indie didn’t look entirely pleased, but at the same time, she looked accepting of it. That if anything would have gone horribly wrong, no one would have had to die.

Because one couldn’t die at the Dueling Grounds.

It was technically on a different plane of existence.

“Was this what you were referring to, Temple?” I shook my head, causing Asterion to frown. I hoped the brief look on my face let him know to drop it. But knowing him, it wouldn’t be enough, so I began to talk.

“No. Well, part of it. I wanted to know if you knew anything about Grimms too, but I also have a few more questions.” He hesitated a moment, but then motioned for me to continue. “I want to know anything you may know about Van Helsing, Baba Yaga, or the Huntress. You clammed up pretty quick with Midas. I want you to share. Now.” I added. “I also have questions about one of my friends, and some unique abilities she has begun to manifest…” I added cryptically. Everyone glanced at Indie, but I shook my head. “No, not her. Pretty sure she would skewer me for referring to her as a friend,” I smiled. Indie nodded proudly. Then she stood and walked over to me, sitting down beside me and snuggling into my shoulder. I squeezed her thigh and whispered, “Good job. You should have seen the look on his face.”

She whispered back just as quietly. “Oh, don’t think you won’t be paying for that later. You. Used. Me.” She never stopped cuddling as she issued the threat, which only made it worse.

My kitty had claws. I deserved it, but it still made me smile. Indie had always been confident with strong independent streaks. It was one of the characteristics that had drawn me to her. But that confidence was increasing as her powers evolved. Even though she couldn’t control them yet, I could see the seeds of her resolve and inner strength growing firm roots. It was pleasant to see. Knowing that she would definitely be able to protect herself from any of my enemies in the future.

Hell, she would protect me from my enemies.

“Spill, Asterion.”

He sighed, and nodded as we all got comfortable in our seats.

Chapter 41

Asterion stared off, gathering his thoughts.

“What are you building over there?” Indie asked absently.

I glanced over to see a pile of lumber and assorted tools. I turned back to the Minotaur and he was smiling at me knowingly, nodding. I instantly willed him not to say anything, and his smile died abruptly. “Just… just tinkering.”

Indie turned back to us, nodding, but Alucard was watching me curiously, having noticed the brief exchange. Surely he knew. He had heard me bring up the idea at the bar.

“Do you know anything about Indie having no control? Any way you know of to help her?” The Minotaur looked troubled.

“None that are worth the cost.” I opened my mouth to press him, but the glare he shot me was warning enough. “Trust me. You don’t want to deal with that… man.”

“We need to figure something out, Asterion.”

He nodded agreement, grasping Indie’s tiny hand in his meaty palm. “Practice. Meditation. Breathing exercises. Find your inner peace, child.” She smiled politely, but I could tell she was disappointed. “One must not rush these things. You are a,” his eyes twinkled as he cracked a grin, “Sister Grimm.” He frowned, chewing his lip. “Or Grimm Sister. Regardless, you were a mortal and became something greater. This is… unusual to say the least. Give it time.”

Again, she nodded politely, but her mind was elsewhere, frustrated.

I decided to drop a bomb. “Indie…” she turned to face me. “Did you touch the book?”

Her face locked rigid, frustrated. “I already told you…” she began. I held up my hands.

“I know, but you said you blacked out. I need to be certain that you didn’t touch it. These people are chasing us, because they sense it. I have only touched the case, and Baba stole that from me the first night, so that can’t be what they are tracking.” I glanced at Alucard who threw his hands up.

“I was with you the whole night!”

“I know. That’s why I’m asking the only person who actually saw it.”

She continued staring at me, and I spotted a small tear of frustration building in her eyes. “I don’t know!” She shouted, throwing up her hands as she let out an angry breath. “If you think I’m behind this, then you don’t know me at all!” But she had suddenly come down with a strange sickness. And had no recollection of the auction.

She prepared to stand and I held out a hand. “I’m not accusing you, Indie. This item is obviously powerful, as are the people after it, so I’m merely thinking outside the box. Perhaps you touched it, and the force of power is what knocked you out? Is something like that possible?”

Her eyes danced in self-defense, but she finally let out a sigh and sat back down. “I don’t know, Nate. I don’t think I was anywhere near it. Last thing I remembered was them wheeling it out, and then I woke up with the case next to me, five rows back from the podium. But the case was lying next to me and everyone was dead. I still held the drink and paddle in my hand, so I doubt I nabbed it, managed to make it back to my seat, and then blacked out after picking the paddle and drink back up.”

I nodded thoughtfully, glancing at Asterion. He studied Indie intently, sniffing the air slightly. He finally shook his head. “I’m fairly certain that I would be able to sense it if she had touched it. I do sense a faint trace of a residual power on both of you, but it is very, very faint. Days old. Even still, I can tell it wasn’t the object itself. More like this case you mentioned.”

I sighed in frustration. Not that I had wanted to find out Indie had lied to me, but at least it would have explained a lot, and I couldn’t exactly hold it against her if the book had somehow overwhelmed her. Especially with her lack of control already. I never should have sent her to the auction in the first place.

But who would have thought the auction would be dangerous? It wasn’t typical for items harboring magic to make it to auction. They were usually passed on to other wizards or sold privately in the supernatural community. Or traded for favors. Not sold at auction.

Except in very rare, unusual, and unexplainable situations like the first edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales I had run across several years ago. But that had later been explained as basic extortion. And the seller had been murdered. That tiny act had brought the Brothers Grimm out of their imprisonment to once again haunt our world. To prevent it from happening again I had opened up my very own bookstore to hopefully catch these rare artifacts, books, and objects before they could make it into the regular population.

“Worth a try. I just can’t wrap my head around any other possibility.” Indie nodded coolly, but she did sit back down beside me. “Do you know much about the sprites, Asterion?”

“There are many sprites, Temple,” he answered wryly.

“One is a silver succubus of sorts, one is black as night, seeming to wield earth magic like nothing I have ever seen, and the other seemed to be a woodland sprite.”

Asterion’s gaze sharpened. “Together?” I nodded. “Interesting… They are not notorious, or, were nothing notorious until a certain… event happened.” I leaned forward, nodding. “Well, those were three of the key players to help banish the Grimms back in the day.”

“Yes, them.”

“Well, they were strong, true, but nothing extremely special. But they were friends, and rarely left each other’s side. The only reason I know of them is the Grimm extinction. What about them?”

“Well, less about them, and more about their powers.” Asterion frowned, so I continued. “When we were fighting the Grimms a few months ago, after they lit your fields on fire…” he growled menacingly at the memory. It had forced him to flee to… somewhere else. He refused to divulge details about his vacation spot, but he had come back changed, moodier, darker, and it was only after recent visits to Achilles’ Heel – the bar where I had first met Death and Eae – that he had seemed to come out of his funk. He nodded curtly. “They helped us battle. But the woodland sprite didn’t survive…” The Minotaur frowned sadly, murmuring a prayer under his breath. “In fact, she saved one of my friends. Tory Marlin, the exceptionally strong one I told you about. Used to be a cop?” Asterion nodded. “Well, she lost someone she loved in that fight, and has been in a dark place for some time now. But in recent days, she has displayed some unique… abilities that I’m not even sure she is aware of.”

“Go on…” the Minotaur said curiously.

“Well, a horde of fairies was attacking her and they simply stopped. Then they attacked another monster they had moments before been allied with. She also seems to have some affinity for wood.”

Alucard stifled a laugh, and Indie glared at his immature outburst. Asterion frowned at us, not understanding. I shook my head. “Anyway, Baba Yaga tried to lay down the law with a storm of magic, and she simply… nullified it.”

Asterion’s mouth hung open. “She… nullified Baba’s magic?” He whispered in disbelief. I nodded. He shook his head, muttering for a few moments. “I have never heard of such a thing.”

“My thought is that something… symbiotic may have happened when the sprite saved Tory. Because Tory was missing an arm, and the sprite was dying. The sprite’s magic temporarily grew her another arm, and then the sprite died. It’s like she imbued Tory with her power long enough to grow her another arm…”

The Minotaur stood to his feet and began pacing in heavy booted strides. He finally turned to us. “No, that wouldn’t be enough. Healing her is possible, but passing on her powers?” He shook his head. “No, not possible.”

I thought hard for a few breaths, then decided to spill the rest. Everyone here had witnessed it anyway. I just felt bad talking about Tory without her here. “Well, in order to trap Jacob Grimm, the other two sprites needed Tory’s help to form a cage. They used her as a conduit since she temporarily held the sprite’s power…”

The Minotaur was shaking his head, but not in disagreement this time… it was in flat disbelief. “I… It’s possible,” he hesitated, then continued. “Maybe…”

“Wait, you’re telling me that Tory is now a sprite? She’s still human-sized though. And she hasn’t lost her previous powers.”

“Not a sprite. A hybrid of sorts. Who knows exactly what she is, but from what you’ve told me – and it seems almost impossible – but she might be… Fae. Whether she likes it or not. Whether she knows it or not. Whether she… wants it or not.”

Indie was staring at me, no doubt wondering how long I had known. But it wasn’t like I had had any time to share the details with her.

“Looks like I need to have a talk with her…” The Minotaur grunted at the understatement.

“Then there’s Ashley,” Indie added, shaking her head with a faint smile.

I nodded. “Yeah, still trying to adapt to the change.” Asterion nodded. “Why not give her what you gave your family wolf?”

Alucard burst out laughing, and Indie barely hid her smile. I, too, grinned.

“He’s not my family wolf, Asterion. He’s a friend. My family helped take care of him.”

“Your family adopted the werewolf, right?” Asterion asked, frowning.

Alucard’s laughter reached new levels as he clapped his knees. “Oh, boy,” he wheezed.

“No, yes… I don’t know,” I shook my head in exasperation. “Listen, it’s more the words you’re using that are the problem. What you are implying is correct, but the words are typically used by mortals for adopting stray animals.”

Asterion stared back, not understanding. “You did adopt a stray were animal…” I sighed, nodding. He shook his head at the look on my face though. “Humans, so odd.” I grinned. “Just grant her the family rune like you did for him.”

I blinked. “I didn’t do it for him.”

“Who did you do it for, if not for him?”

I muttered under my breath. “Jesus…”

“Jesus?” He asked, growing confused.

“No. Stop. Listen-”

“You forgot collaborate,” Alucard piped up, laughing all over again as he sang Vanilla Ice.

I took a deep calming breath, closing my eyes. “Okay. My father gave Gunnar the rune, not me. And I don’t know how to duplicate it.”

Asterion stared at me as if I were daft. Then he strode up to me, head cocked to the side as if staring at a mental patient, and then slapped me in the face. He hit me so hard I fell off the bench, clawing to my feet with anger. But he was smirking. He used a fingernail to scratch a smiley face into the wood. “That would work.”

I stared from him to the crude drawing. “Yeah, I’m thinking no on that one-”

He interrupted me, turning to Indie. “Is it necessary to slap humans twice to get their attention?” She giggled, nodding her head eagerly. Asterion reared back his palm to slap me again. I danced back a step, holding up my hands defensively, and Indie bubbled over with laughter.

Asterion watched us all as if not understanding the insanity of the humans before him. “The rune can be anything. It’s not the drawing that matters. It’s the family rune. You adopted a stray, and granted him the safety of your family. In effect, this meant that he had to be able to control his shifting at will, and not as a cycle of chance, lunar calculations, or outbursts of uncontrolled mood swings. In exchange for this gift, he was obligated to protect you and your family, or whoever your father designated. For example, your father may have paired you two kids together, leaving themselves out of the bond. You would have to ask either your father or Gunnar for clarification. Did your father teach you nothing of this? I’m sure even the wolf could have explained it to you in simple enough terms for your limited mental capacity to grasp.” He shook his head, walking away in disgust. He called out over his shoulder. “You three have exhausted me. I have no more patience for your wordplay.”

He disappeared as he reached the ring of torches. I wasn’t sure if he had walked into the darkness or if he had disappeared of his own volition just before entering the darkness.

“Well, looks like I can take care of Ashley after all.”

“Is he that smart, or are you that dense?” I ignored Alucard, and began walking away.

But I was suddenly distracted by Asterion’s disembodied voice. She’s dying, Temple… I jerked, but no one else appeared to have heard it. So, I played it cool, mind swirling down a deep, dark rabbit hole of nothingness…

Chapter 42

We pulled up to Chateau Falco an hour later. My mind was racing with Asterion’s parting words. She’s dying… We tiredly climbed out of the car and began walking towards the front door. On reflex, I instantly flung out my hands, knocking Alucard and Indie’s chests back, stopping them in their tracks. Indie’s stray cat was pawing at a box lying in front of the door. I approached slowly, and quickly realized it was a pizza box. The cat glanced up at me, then began scratching at the box again. A note fluttered in the wind on top of the box.

Garlic… Love, Van.

“I hate that man,” Alucard hissed, pinching his nose at the pungent smell. He kicked the box into the bushes, and Indie squawked at him in defense of the cat. But the cat disappeared into the bushes with a hiss at the vampire.

“It’s rude to talk about someone behind their back… much better to talk to someone behind their back…” a cool voice spoke from behind us.

We whirled, Alucard flashing fangs and claws, me ready to unleash my whips, and Indie’s eyes dancing with crackles of lightning deep in her irises.

Van Helsing held a crossbow in each hand, one pointed at Indie and one at Alucard. He had a fat cigar in his mouth, unlit, and his white teeth glinted in the ambient light. “We were interrupted last time.” He dipped his head at the crossbow aimed at Alucard. “This here is wood and garlic tipped.” He nodded to the other pointed at Indie. “This one is simply an explosive charge. Didn’t want to take any chances and have her walk it off.” He winked darkly at her.

“What do you want?”

“Not that bright, eh? Same thing I’ve wanted the whole time. The damn book.”

I glared at him. “For the tenth time. I don’t have it.”

To my surprise, Van nodded. “I believe you. But I’m thinking you probably do know where it really is.” I shrugged helplessly.

“Honestly, if it would get you guys off my back, I would tell you.”

“Maybe I should just kill you anyway. Level the playing field a bit…”

The monster cat suddenly slammed into his shins, clawing through his pants with a yowl. He cursed, adjusted his aim, and the wood-tipped arrow released, sailing just over Indie’s shoulder to strike the doorframe. The cat bolted into one of the bushes on the other side of the drive, and Van cursed, aiming the other explosive arrow at the feline. He released the catch and the arrow sailed into the shrubbery. I ducked, and caught Indie and Alucard doing the same, using the car as a shield. The explosion was deafening, and despite the car blocking the shrapnel, the air instantly intensified in a wave of deadly heat and flame.

The cat was history.

Indie jumped to her feet, eyes on fire as she glared at where Van had been standing, but he was gone. A shredded piece of fabric remained as the only evidence of his presence. Indie let out a scream. “Shooting a fucking bazooka at a cat! What the hell is wrong with you, coward!” Her eyes scanned the grounds, ready to go toe-to-toe with the mercenary. But no one responded. She bolted toward the burning bush, screaming the cat’s name. it was the first time I had heard it.

Alucard stepped up beside me. “Sir Muffle Paws?” He asked incredulously.

I shrugged. “I guess. I haven’t spent much time around it. Apparently, she named it.”

Indie spent a few minutes searching for the cat while Alucard and I swept the driveway, searching for any trace of Van. We met back up at the door, and I dislodged the arrow bolt from the doorframe with a curse. I opened the door and…

Sir Muffle Paws hammered into my shins affectionately, purring contentedly. I simply stared down at the creature, not comprehending.

“Sir Muffle Paws!” Indie all but screamed, scooping him up in her arms and rubbing her face against his neck. The cat purred, nudged her back a bit, and then began cleaning his paws with his eyes closed. Indie’s eyes watered over, and she shot me a dazzling grin. I managed a weak smile and ushered everyone inside ahead of me. I stepped back into the driveway and scanned the windows. None were open.

I stared hard, trying to think of any possible way the cat could have escaped a freaking grenade, and then managed to get inside a building that was entirely locked down, without anyone noticing.

It was… impossible.

My distrust for the cat jumped up a few notches.

I had never been a cat person, having Gunnar around made that kind of a non-starter. But I disliked how cats never acted enthusiastic about their pet humans coming home. They didn’t do tricks. And their gaze was accusing, disdainful, and arrogant. Dogs, on the other hand, jumped all over you when you got home, licking your face, barking, wagging their tail, and generally smothering you with love.

Cats were just aliens as far as I was concerned.

And now I had one of the beasts living with me.

And the worst part?

Indie apparently adored the fleabag, even giving it a name.

I sighed, shaking my head as I finally went back inside, brain running on overdrive as I considered the possibilities. It wasn’t long till my thoughts drifted back to Indie. I locked up the door behind me, double-checking the locks as well as mentally checking that the Guardians were active. They were, which only confused me further. If the cat had somehow gotten inside, the house alarm should have gone off, or the Guardians would have raised hell. Unless Dean had let the beast in. But still, the cat would have had to travel to the complete opposite side of the house to get to another door, and there simply hadn’t been enough time.

I shook my head. I needed to take my mind off things for a minute and relax. But I wasn’t ready for sleep yet. Indie was already up in our rooms, but Alucard was waiting for me. “Don’t trust the cat,” I whispered, walking past him. I called over my shoulder, not turning. “Hit the hay, man. I’m betting we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Pick a room. See you bright and early.” I heard him grunt acknowledgment and something about needing a drink. I had no doubt he would search out Mallory – if he was back from the cemetery – for a nightcap, but I didn’t want company.

I had a woman to save.

Chapter 43

I found myself pacing, checking on the Guardians, and generally avoiding my thoughts. With a frustrated curse, I threw up a hand and a gateway erupted into existence in the hallway before me, revealing a familiar room on the other side beyond the hungry tendrils of fire. I smiled, and cast a bit of my scent through the portal, not wanting a surprise welcome party. I had a sudden idea. I snapped my fingers, and a Guardian standing a few feet away suddenly cracked to life, crouching as it spun. It acknowledged me with a silent shriek, beak wide, and darted through the portal, disappearing from view for a few moments.

After a few seconds, I saw another shape slowly stalk from the shadows, sniffing the air and staring at the portal with stone eyes. Another stone figure tackled it out of nowhere, and the two figures rolled, wrestling, nipping at each other playfully, tails lashing and wings flaring out. I smiled as they came to a stop. They nuzzled each other’s beaks together, grateful to see one another again. It was important to strengthen the connection between the store and my home. Remind the Guardians they were still connected with each other even though housed at different locations.

I had to be vigilant about switching out the posts so that they mingled, remembered each other, or pretty soon they would be two entirely different armies I would have to manage, growing jealous if they scented the other Guardians’ magic on my person.

I stepped through and let the portal close behind me. I stood in the darkness, taking in a deep breath. Then again. When I felt calm, I opened them. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now, and the two Guardians had stalked away to mingle together on the lower level, no longer concerned about the sudden occupant in the locked-down bookstore.

I wandered over to my personal bookshelf. Well, now it was technically Alucard’s room, but I had reserved a bookshelf for personal reasons. Nothing on it was dangerous, but each item was important to me for various reasons. For example, I was confident that I had a book on the healing arts around here. A journal from my studies with my mother so many years ago.

I found it, took a seat, and idly threw out my hand as I opened the journal. The lights flickered on. Well, several orbs of light at the cardinal directions flared to a soft existence, providing me with enough light to read. The dark voice made a purring sound deep in my soul at the sliver of power. I sighed, letting go of my cane. It vanished from view, but I didn’t like how I kept grasping at it. Better than permanently residing inside of me, I supposed.

I still wasn’t entirely sure what it meant or what it was, but I did know that it was nowhere near as powerful as it had been when I had first encountered it while battling the Grimms. When it had temporarily tried to overpower me, and temporarily succeeded. Then I had somehow used its knowledge to do something that had terrified everyone around me.

And brought to life a tree that could not be touched by magic or harmed by blade.

Had killed every Grimm on my property.

Well, except for Ichabod.

I growled at that thought, a rage recently brought back to flame where before it had been a smoldering coal in the bottom of a dying fire. Now it flickered hungrily, reaching for the pile of fresh logs resting on the metaphorical grate above. The dark voice grew more powerful, reaching out to take hold of the power inside my soul, or beneath my feet, or wherever the Maker power stemmed from. It did that sometimes. Reached beyond the cane without me calling upon it.

I instantly closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and clenched my fist around the cane. And then around the influx of power that instantly responded. Metaphysically. To all outward appearances, I was completely still.

But I was in a battle for my very soul, even if it looked like I was resting on a chair.

A few tense moments later and the leviathan of darkness dove back into the depths of my psyche, or soul, or wherever it resided. And I was in complete control again. I released the cane.

“Right, no more thoughts on him,” I murmured aloud.

I flipped through the book, searching for similar ailments and symptoms to Indie’s current condition. Malnutrition. Loss of control. Narcolepsy, perhaps? I began flipping the pages faster, my fear growing at my impotent search, finding nothing that seemed to relate. Sure, the symptoms were there, but the causes were varied and obtuse. Swallowed sea-dragon’s blood. Performed summoning for demigod incorrectly. Poisoned by Deathhallow Mushroom… and even more bizarre causes.

I reached the end of the book, frowned, and tossed it near the bookshelf with a muffled curse. Then I got up, approached the book, picked it up and placed it back on the shelf. My fingers traced the spines, and I plucked out a book on runes. I closed my eyes, thinking.

Well, remembering…

I envisioned the memory palace in my mind, wondering why I hadn’t done this instead of traveling here in the first place. But I had wanted to just… get away for a minute. Do something I loved. Pick up a book in peace. No demands. No life-threatening problem. Just pick up a damn book and lounge in a chair.

To relax…

I shook my head, soaring up into the third story of shelves in my imagined library. Mahogany ladders reached from one floor to the next, connected to the shelves on rails with wheels on the bottom so one could slide laterally to find the book they required. They also reached up to the next level, so that one could climb up onto the next balcony, and hop onto a different ladder to find the book on the next level.

And on…

And on… to physically impossible levels. Most of the upper floors were entirely smoke and fog, having been undeveloped as they hadn’t been necessary for me to complete yet. But none of that mattered now. I used this process to store knowledge. Well, to organize my already stored knowledge. I had a palace in my mind that organized and catalogued all of the things I wanted to remember, know, or understand from my history.

For example, the blueprints to Chateau Falco that now rested on the desk on the lower level, in perfect detail. As did a duplicate family tree on the far wall where before had rested a favorite chair of mine. The family tree was a duplicate of the fountain at my family Mausoleum, complete with new details I had only just noticed in the last few days. I didn’t glance at it at all, just noticed it in my peripheral, which was safer.

I found the book I needed, touched it, and verified that it was the one I had once seen my father discussing with Gunnar. The childhood werewolf was much younger, too young to likely remember this moment from his youth, but he was thumbing his wrist as he nodded to my father.

Up until now, I hadn’t truly realized the importance of seeing this as a child myself. I had merely thought my father reprimanding Gunnar for damaging a book, or something children are wont to do. But after Asterion mentioning runes and the fact that Gunnar’s rune held the power word for family, this event took on much more meaning.

I opened my eyes, glanced down at the book and smiled. It was so simple that I laughed. At least I could help Ashley now. I would just have to work a bit harder to help out Indie. I opened a gateway back to Chateau Falco, in my study, and then hesitated before stepping through. I still wasn’t ready for bed yet, and neither was I in the mood to study a book on runes to see what other secrets it held. I tossed the book through the portal where it landed atop the blueprints on my desk, and whistled sharply. The Guardian bounded up the stairs, surprisingly soft for a stone behemoth. It glanced at me, at the portal, and then over its shoulder. I nodded and the tail flickered back and forth in what I took as excitement. Another Guardian, the one who had originally been standing guard leapt into the room and both tore through the gateway leading back to Chateau Falco. I smiled as I let it close behind them.

I extinguished the orbs of light and opened another gateway, this one in an alley just outside the shop. I fancied a walk. It was a beautiful night with a bright moon. I took a deep breath of the warm air, smelling a hint of rain perhaps on the way. Or it was just basic Missouri weather, humid as a sauna.

A steady, clinking noise could be heard around the corner. As I reached the street, I turned right to walk in front of the entrance to my store, checking for trash and whatnot.

And a bum sat just beside my door, shaking a coffee cup for money. In fact, it was one of the paper cups from my bookstore. He locked eyes with me and I stared in disbelief.

“You?”

He squinted back warily so I took a few slow steps into the light. His face cracked into a guilty smile when he suddenly recognized me. “Master Temple,” he glanced down at his cup and then back to me with a shrug and a sigh. “Great night to be alive, eh?”

Chapter 44

I nodded, approaching him, not entirely understanding. I stopped a few paces away, staring at the customer from my store. The one that had bought the drinks for the girls. I scowled. “You’re homeless?” I finally blurted.

He nodded. “Where it counts,” he answered cryptically.

I didn’t press. “But… you bought those girls drinks.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

The silence rolled right on through the space between us like a tumbleweed in an old Western flick. “Well?” I finally said, mimicking spitting into an invisible spittoon in the street. In a Texas twang like Agent Jeffries, I drawled, “Tell me a story, old one,” as I plopped down beside him. I leaned comfortably against the brick wall, which was still warm from the day’s sunlight. He chuckled, likely because of the twang in my phrase, but also because he didn’t look that old. In fact, he looked mid-thirties, tops.

“I… well, I like to help people out when I get a chance. After all, I live off of the help from others, so I figure a little reinvestment can’t be a bad thing. It’s what all those rich bankers do.”

I smiled. “No, they rob people blind. Completely different. They just make you think they are returning a favor. Don’t you watch the news?” Then I winced, remembering he was homeless.

“Nope. Don’t catch much of that.” I nodded, glad he didn’t sound upset.

“Ran into a spell of bad luck in my youth. Stayed with me for quite a while. Could have used a helping hand. A genuine helping hand, not another con artist offering help. I seemed to meet every one of that variety,” his eyes grew distant, as if a heavy weight was slowly lifting from his chest. “So when I see someone in a tight spot, even if it’s just a lack of confidence, I buy them a cup o’ joe. Tell them something motivational, and then move on. No lingering. Just a random kindness.”

“Well, thanks for picking my shop.”

He shrugged. “What about you? You have a thousand-yard stare going on right now. You’re hearing me, but your mind’s elsewhere.” I shot a look at him, but he wasn’t watching me. He was staring out into the street. Just like I had been.

I thought about what I could say. Which wasn’t much. “My fiancé is sick,” I finally murmured.

He grunted, twirling his cup idly. “Doctor sick, or…?”

My heart lurched, recalling Asterion’s last words. “The latter,” I whispered.

He was silent for a few, as if debating something in his mind. He finally shook his head, as if coming to some important decision. “Well, I don’t know much about ladders, but…” he winked at my sharp glance, letting me know he was teasing with the wordplay, “…I wasn’t always a bum.”

“I didn’t even know you were a b-” I caught myself, “homeless until five minutes ago.”

“Right. Well, point is, I made a bad decision for the wrong reasons… and it led me here.”

“I’ve got nowhere to go. Sounds like a good story,” I offered casually.

“Not a story,” the man watched me out of the corner of his eye. “How about a fairy tale?”

I chuckled, hiding my instinctual alarm. “Sure.”

“I had a beautiful family. Good job. Nice place. Trustworthy friends…” he began. I bent my knees and rested my hands atop them. “But my father died of a sudden illness, with only me at his side after a day spent hiking. It left the family a mess. Bickering, fighting over money, assets, you name it.” I nodded in understanding. “Thing is, he had been healthy, happy even. Came out of nowhere. I felt like it was my fault for taking him hiking. When the dust settled, it began to nag at me. How truly horrible his death was, and how it had ruined a perfectly good thing. Destroyed a strong family. I looked at my sleeping wife and kids, and realized true terror for the first time. So… I crossed a line.” He looked at me. “This is where it gets weird.”

I smiled, nodding in curiosity. “Okay.”

“My father had mentioned a name before he let out his last breath. And he mentioned it three times in a row.” My heart lurched in sudden anxiety, fearing I knew the next part of his story. “A… creature appeared, in the shadows so I couldn’t see clearly, but…” his eyes flicked in my direction for a moment before he continued, “he promised me the world.”

I nodded sadly, letting out a sigh. “Heard a few stories like that unfortunately…”

“I didn’t say anything, but the creature murmured his name to me… told me to remember it for later. With the funeral, burial, and all of that, I never thought about it, for the next few weeks. But that night as I watched my family sleeping peacefully, I remembered. And I called out to him. He showed up as if waiting for me, sniffing my wife and children as he let out a dark laugh. Then he asked me what I desired. I told him I didn’t want to die.”

I blinked, slowly turning to face him, suddenly alarmed that I was sitting next to another freaking immortal ready to smash my face in. But he wasn’t watching me, and seemed entirely absorbed in his tale.

“So we made a deal. I did him a future favor, and he granted my wish. I signed a long piece of paper he had ready for me, and then he was gone. I lived in peace, forgetting my deal. I didn’t see him for quite some time. But every time someone commented on my looks, I began to cringe harder and harder. It wasn’t long until my son began to look older than me. My wife died, never knowing, never understanding why I didn’t age like her, but never asking, just praying. But prayer didn’t save her. I moved to the country to avoid the looks. My kids visited me a bit, but I wasn’t allowed to be a part of their lives. Couldn’t get to see their kids. They simply didn’t know how to explain why Grandpa looked twenty years younger than their dad.” He was shaking his head, chuckling lightly. “Imagine, telling your kids that the man twenty years younger than you was your father. They would lock you up, thinking you had lost your mind. I was alone. But I was alive. I hadn’t told the Demon that I wanted to live forever, but standing over my son’s grave truly hit the nail on the head. I don’t want to die… is what I had asked for. I had just wanted to be there for my family, not live forever…”

I was transfixed… I couldn’t think of a specific Demon who could do such a thing. At least to my knowledge, although I was confident that some were out there who might have the juice.

“It wasn’t long until I tried to resolve the situation. Suicide. But it never worked. I always woke up after, unharmed. Then I began to travel. Didn’t have much money, but couldn’t stand one more moment out there in the country. Hopped around a bit and ended up here.” He glanced up at me. “Only peace I’ve found is sipping a cup of coffee here,”

“Well, you can just consider yourself a VIP at the shop then. Free coffee forev…” I winked, “for an unspecified length of time…” he smiled back.

“Point is, I made a poor decision for a poor reason. But… if your fiancé is at the point of no return, maybe… he can help…” he was practically whispering at the end.

Now, normally I would have laughed this off. But Asterion had said she was dying, right here, right now. I didn’t have time to spend a few weeks researching cures, because I didn’t even know what the hell was wrong. And for it to be so sudden made me think it was magic related, or Grimm related, and I didn’t have the juice to help her. I knew nothing about being a Grimm.

You could say I was in a pretty desperate place, ready to make a deal, consequences be damned.

And you would be right.

“What is this Demon’s name?” I asked, debating with myself.

He was silent for a breath. “That’s it? I thought you were just holding your thoughts for a few. Most would have laughed in my face. The stories about you must be true…” he was watching me sideways.

I arched a brow at him. “Stories?”

“You’re a wizard.”

I smiled. “I think you saw proof of that yesterday…”

He slapped his knees, nodding. “Can you help me?” he asked in a fierce whisper, glancing around nervously. I blinked, and suddenly realized that he was asking me to kill him.

I shook my head. “I have no idea how to cure something like that. Not even the faintest.”

He sighed. “Worth a shot, I guess.”

After a few moments, I repeated myself. “The Demon?”

“Silver Tongue.”

My eyes suddenly narrowed, a field of blue resting over the scene before me as if someone had plucked a set of stylish blue-lensed glasses on my nose. I climbed to my feet, slowly turning to glare down at the man.

“You’ve heard of him,” was the soft reply.

“Oh, yeah,” I growled angrily, remembering Achilles and Midas dismissing the name. “And, oh, isn’t this convenient. One of his pet dogs has conveniently been hanging out at my shop since it reopened. And, oh, look at that. He’s here to make an introduction right when I need it the most.” The man seemed to wilt under the heat of my words. “Your coffee privilege has been revoked. In fact, your-”

He lifted hard eyes to me, and I could see they were full of pain. “I just told you why you shouldn’t make a deal.” He whispered. “I told you what it cost me. If I was so bad, would I do that? Or ask you to kill me before giving away his name?” I frowned, shaking my head, but still not trusting him entirely. “I only said that the option was before you. Here, let me explain it further in a parable.” I waited, folding my arms. “A cowboy rides into town on his horse. Pulls up in front of the saloon, ties the reins to the hitching post and climbs down, all the while watched by two old-timers sitting on the porch. They watch as the cowboy strides up to the horse, lifts up his tail, and plants a fat kiss on the horse’s asshole. They almost fall out of their chairs. ‘Son, did you just kiss that horse’s asshole?’ The cowboy looked up at the two men, nodding after a moment. The two old men look at each other, then back at the cowboy. ‘Why in the hell would you do that?’ The cowboy tapped his lips. ‘Chapped lips.’ The old men simply stared in disbelief. ‘Are you trying to tell us that kissing your horse’s asshole helps your chapped lips?’ The cowboy watched them for a moment, glanced at his horse, and then shrugged before turning back to them. ‘Stops me from licking my lips,’ he said with a grin.”

I blinked, then let out a laugh, despite myself. “What the hell does that mean?” I finally managed.

“Just because something works doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

My laughter died as my eyes narrowed. He shrugged. “Am I a plant? Yes. Was I told to arrange a meet? Yes. Do I get something out of it? Yes.” He let out an angry sigh. “But I wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for making a bad deal myself. Obviously, my father made a bad deal, and I fell right into the trap after him. As much as I want my promised reward for arranging you guys to meet, I want you to know that even though you will get what you want, maybe it’s not worth it.” He turned his back, taking a few steps. “Let me know what you decide.” After a moment, he called over his shoulder, “How much she’s worth to you.”

And that comment broke through my rage.

“Let’s go meet the big bad Silver Tongue,” I snarled.

The man dropped his head, shaking it slowly before turning to face me. “Remember that you can ask for one thing. One thing only. Nothing else will be discussed, so get your head straight right now. If you go off on a tangent, you’re likely to ask a question you didn’t intend, and you’ll find that you sold your soul only to know the secret ingredient to KFC’s crispy chicken.” He smiled lightly. “For example.”

I had a million things I wanted to ask the man, but I knew the truth of the Bum’s words. Just like dealing with fairies. Or a genie. Limits. Rules. Still, my mind raced with questions about the immortals hunting me, why the book was so important, and a dozen more. I finally nodded.

“So be it. Let’s go sell your soul to save your girl,” he said sadly.

Chapter 45

The bum had told me a location, and for expediency’s sake, I Shadow Walked us there. Not exactly sure of the location, opening a gateway would be dicey. What if someone happened to be standing where I opened the portal? Would I slice them in half by opening a gateway? Erring on the side of caution, I chose the safer alternative.

The bum stared at me with fascinated eyes, taking a shaky breath as he straightened his shirt and led me forward. We were in the country, so I needn’t have worried about random people being harmed by my Shadow Walking, but there could have been a car. Or a cow. I grimaced as my mind showed me an image of that. I followed in the man’s footsteps as we approached a crossroad, branching left and right. The moon hung bright, not quite full yet, but casting a cool glow over the silhouettes of brush, trees, and hay bales in the fields beside us.

The man murmured an unintelligible word under his breath. Then did it two more times.

There was a sharp crack to the air, but it felt slimy. More like a wet smack. And a figure made entirely of shadows and about ten feet tall stood before us, eyes of white fire seeming only a moment away from engulfing the monster’s face. The shadows flickered and wavered like black flame, darting out and smacking back towards the center mass of the creature. Embers like the coals of a roaring fire appeared and died, emitting sparks throughout the shadows, so that the creature looked like a sparkler from Wes Craven’s nightmares.

Something about it tugged at my memory, but it was gone as my sense of alarm increased.

I was entirely sure that I had stepped into something that I really shouldn’t have.

He looked nothing like I had anticipated.

But… this was for Indie. She was dying. The Minotaur had confirmed it, and before he had uttered the words I had been stubbornly denying the truth standing right before me. But I knew he was right. She was on borrowed time, and that terrified me. I had lost her once, truly, and the only reason she was back now was because Death had found a loophole.

A loophole that transformed her into a Grimm. The last Grimm in our world. Sure, there were allegedly hundreds more in the Dark World, salivating to make it over here and renew their purpose, but for now my world was safe.

But the very cure that had brought her back now seemed to be killing her. And I had no way to help her because I knew nothing about being a Grimm. And the second I started tinkering with magic to try to help her, she was likely to turn into a Maker herself and defend herself against me with extreme prejudice, because naturally, I was an enemy of the Grimms.

I shook my head free of the thought, noticing that the dark part of my soul was watching the exchange with great interest. Not alarm, but interest. The cane seemed to pulse under my palm. I released it. But the response made me shiver a bit. This thing inside me saw a potential… friend in the monster of shadows and sparks.

I opened my mouth to get this over with, but the creature of darkness turned to the bum, who was standing ahead of me and a few paces to the side of the monster. “Your service has been commendable. You have broken your covenant with me, knowing full well the consequences.” The man nodded back firmly. “Be careful what you wish for…” the Demon chuckled darkly, and then faster than a striking cobra, a tendril of shadow lanced directly into the bum’s chest. He gasped in pain and I almost let loose with my magic, but froze a heartbeat later.

The bum was smiling in peace.

Sure, I was pissed at him for deceiving me, but I had accepted it. He was doing as commanded. He had no other choice. Well, he had made the ultimate choice now. Sacrificing his life in order to bring me here. Not truly, he had actually sacrificed his life by telling me about the Demon in the first place. Discretion seemed to be part of the parcel. Get your wish, don’t talk about it. And the bum had tried to warn me off, guaranteeing his much-desired death.

The bum died, his body drifting away like a pile of dust. I glanced about cautiously, the shadow seeming to breathe in the scent of death as the white fire of his eyes closed slightly in rapture and he emitted a pleased purr.

Charon never came. Which usually didn’t mean anything good. The Boatman always came for dead souls. Unless something was wrong.

I waited for the Demon to finish celebrating. The bum’s body was all but gone now, a memory. Finally, the mass of shadows turned to me, appraising me up and down. I tapped my cane down firmly and stared right on back. He began to chuckle.

“So brave…”

“Why’d you kill your pet, Demon?”

“He spoke of that which was not to be spoken. To a mortal unfettered by my gifts. Only my children may speak freely. Those who have tasted the bounty of my fruits. All others shall die, or become my minions.”

“Yeah, well, not really a fan of that title. Maybe it was the movie that ruined it for me.”

“Then you shall die for knowledge you should not hold,” the Demon purred hungrily, not catching my reference.

“Pump the brakes. I’m not scared, so cool it on the freaky factor. I know what you are. Killed a few of your kind before. Then went and got a burger.” I shrugged.

The Demon… laughed. “Oh, you will taste sweet. You think you have dealt with my kind before? You have no idea…” he watched me, anticipation obvious, despite being a roiling collection of smoke, shadow, and sparks.

“Let’s deal, Demon.” I muttered angrily. “I’ve got things to do, and better company to keep.”

“Yesss…” the shadow quivered happily. “Let us deal, Maker.” I shivered at the tone, but kept the concern from my face. “What is it you seek?”

“The health of one I love restored. No catches. She’s dying. Heal her, and keep her powers intact.”

“That sounds like more than one request.”

I shook my head. “I ask that you keep her as she is now and heal her. I’m simply stating that you are to take nothing away from her in the process.”

“A high bargain… perhaps what she is causes her malady.”

I shrugged. “That’s your problem,” I folded my arms. “Can you do it? If not, I’m walking.”

The figure darted to the side, a good dozen feet. My eyes tracked him, careful not to lose him in the darkness, but the sparks helped keep him in view, even if he was just a blur of darkness otherwise. An appendage reached out as if feeling the night, and I realized he was stroking a moonbeam through a tree.

And…

He touched it.

Let me clarify. His hand – or whatever you would call it – didn’t pass through the light. It plucked the light and moved it a few feet to the side. The light crackled in his fist, and I could tell it pained him, pieces of shadow flaring to sparks and dying away. The Demon let go and the beam stayed in its new place, shining from a thick patch of leaves that the natural moonbeam should not have been able to penetrate. I managed to hide my disbelief. Perhaps it was just an illusion…

But I knew better.

“You know the parameters of our compact?”

I nodded slowly. “You grant my wish in exchange for something…”

“Yes.”

I waited. “Well, what is that something? I might decide it’s not worth the cost.”

The Demon sputtered a mocking sound. “For the life of your loved one? I think not.”

I scowled. “I’m waiting.”

The Demon tapped his lips thoughtfully, even though I couldn’t discern any lips. Maybe he was picking his nose. He finally held up the shadowy appendage. He was suddenly closer, very, very close. He leaned forward, and the sparks from his body flared around me, but didn’t burn. My body tensed as he took a big old whiff.

Then he was gone, back by the tree. I relaxed my shoulders a bit, careful not to overreact and lash out with my powers.

“You have secreted away items that do not belong to you,” he cooed. The tension came roaring back, suddenly concerned about the Armory. I couldn’t give up anything from the Armory. Especially not knowing what everything was. So I remained perfectly still, waiting. “Amulets. Belonging to the Grimms.”

I hid my sigh of relief. “Perhaps.”

The Demon’s eyes narrowed. “I require the amulet belonging to Jacob Grimm.”

And my heart stopped. “That would nullify our agreement.”

The Demon waited, watching me.

“That amulet is gone, remade into something new. It is currently bonded to the woman you must heal.”

The Demon’s eyes narrowed, realizing its conundrum. “I see…”

Score 1 for Team Temple! But that didn’t last long.

“I shall require the amulet of his brother, Wilhelm.”

I let out a breath. It was currently resting in my safe. “Okay, I will deliver it to you. After you heal my-”

And a gateway suddenly erupted between us. Silver Tongue towered over it, gaping maw open in a dark snarl, sparks and embers floating freely from a forge fire of evil that must be his throat. “We shall retrieve it now. Shift the gateway.”

I blinked at him, and studied the gateway. It led into a pool of darkness. I heard a distinct crowing roar off in the blackness, and my heart stopped. I had heard it before. The demonic rooster horse from my shop. But also from the land where the Grimms dwelled. The Dark World. Silver Tongue had just opened a portal to the freaking Dark World, and I, the one person the Grimms wanted to slaughter more than anyone else in the world stood directly before it, like a dangling steak to a pack of wolves.

And judging by the alarmed cry from the monster, I had been spotted, and the Grimms were no doubt on their way for revenge. I flicked my gaze up to Silver Tongue. He was smiling, I think.

“A Maker should make a quick decision at this juncture. Shift the gateway or be torn to shreds by your enemies.”

“But…” I spluttered, “I don’t know how!”

The Demon let a few more moments pass in silence, and the monster on the other side of the gate let out another crowing roar. I could hear distinct voices now. Human shouts and bellows of fury. Shit, shit, shit.

“Think of where the gateway should be. Make it so, Maker.”

I took a breath, staring resolutely into the gateway, imagining my office in perfect detail. Each picture, chair, paper, rug, book, pen, everything. The gateway quivered once, began to change slightly, and then snapped back as a human voice shouted from just beyond. “It’s him!” A dozen voices responded, very fucking close. I doubled down, reaching into the darkness inside of me for assistance as I grasped the cane in desperation. Help!

A contented murmur rose from the deeps like a breaching whale in the ocean, and the gateway snapped into place almost immediately. I heard a lone cry of frustration before the Dark World disappeared entirely and my office stood before us. I rounded on Silver Tongue, panting. “What the hell was that? You tried to kill me!”

“I gave you motivation, nothing more. And you allowed your ally to assist you…” he answered cryptically. I simply stared back at him in stunned silence. He knew of the darkness in my soul, and that made me suddenly certain I did not want to become friends with him. Anyone who knew of the darkness, and was already a dark being, made me one million percent sure I didn’t want to join the club. I forced the darkness back down, politely, suddenly nervous as to how much of a person it actually was. I didn’t want to offend it. It had just saved my bacon after all. Thanks, I called out in my mind. The presence stubbornly remained for a moment, not responding, and then dove back down into the depths. I released the cane handle. The Demon before me was watching my hand.

I hadn’t really analyzed where exactly the presence inside me came from, or where it went to, but the fact that I was referring to something deep inside me as having his own world to dive down into sent all sorts of nervous flutters into my stomach. At the thought of that, I felt a soft chuckle from those depths, amused at my thoughts. I took a calming breath and pointed at the gateway. “I’ll be right back.”

The Demon was suddenly behind me, and murmured into my ear, “Be quick, and no trickery…” sparks sailed over my shoulder, dancing merrily before my face and into the gateway. I nodded, and stepped through. I glanced over my shoulder to find Silver Tongue watching me hungrily. I hopped the desk, knocking over some papers, and quickly opened up the secret safe. As the door swung open, I saw the copy of Through the Looking-Glass wobbling as if surviving an earthquake. I ignored it, pressed for time, and snatched up the amulets, shielding them from view. I plucked out the one that had belonged to Wilhelm, recognizing a distinctive scratch on the side, and closed the safe. I dove back through the gateway, eager to escape before Dean decided to clean the office, or before the Guardians noticed the breach.

I landed on my knees in the road, scuffing the skin underneath my pants. Silver Tongue let the gateway close, sniffing the air with a contented sound. “Ah, that’s it. A seeder,” he murmured.

I climbed to my feet to find his shadowy arm outstretched towards me. I glanced down at the amulet, knowing this was a horrible decision, but not knowing what else I could do to keep Indie from dying.

“Heal her.”

“Ignorant mortal, she’s already been healed,” and he snatched the amulet from my hand, cackling madly as he disappeared in a puff of embers and sparks. I took a deep breath, and then gasped in pain, clutching my forearm. I fell to my knees, my skin burning painfully as I tore back my cuff to reveal…

My veins pulsing black, racing up into my body, spreading fire into my torso now. Silver Tongue’s cackling laughter increased, growing further away, but louder somehow, as if shifting into my very mind as the pain raced like a poison to my face, my legs, my stomach, and finally my eyes as I collapsed into senselessness. Pain my only ally.

What had I just done…?

Chapter 46

When I awoke, I found myself lying on the concrete pavement outside my bookstore. I flinched in confusion, wondering why I wasn’t still at the crossroads. After a sigh, I shook it off. Who cared. I was already a doomed man. But at least Indie would live. I glanced over to see the bum’s coffee cup resting just to the right of my head, wobbling in a light gust of wind, held down by a few coins resting in the bottom of the cup.

I closed my eyes regretfully.

“What are you doing here, Temple?” a demanding voice commanded down at me from on high.

I rolled onto my back with a groan, casually covering my arms with my sleeves, and I was suddenly filled with terror as I stared at Eae, the Holy Warrior, Angel of Heaven, and…

Demon thwarter, as his name literally meant.

I swallowed audibly. “Rough night,” I murmured, amazed my voice didn’t crack in terror.

This was it. All I had sacrificed had been for nothing. A damn Angel who specialized in Demons was about to sense something off about me and the whole thing would have been worthless. I would die. The immortals would hunt down my friends in search of the book, not believing my death to be a coincidence.

And I would get to behold the wonders of the great beyond.

After making a deal with a Demon, I was almost certain that my great beyond would be rather warm and uncomfortable. Forever.

Eae scowled down at me and reached out his hand. I sighed, accepting my fate, and met his hand, waiting for a gang of Nephilim to swarm out of the woodwork and smite me back to the Emperor Nero era.

Our flesh met, and Eae pulled me to my feet without an ounce of strain. And nothing happened. No trumpets. No warriors of Heaven. No posse of Demons grasping at my ankles to drag me to Hell. In fact…

Not even a frown on Eae’s face.

Surprisingly, he wore a look of sympathetic concern on his chiseled, angular face.

Our first meeting, Eae had wrongly accused me of sympathizing with Demons. And here he was now, not accusing me of absolutely consorting with Demons. No wonder he had been demoted. But I would take it.

“What are you doing here?”

He glanced over his shoulder, well, over the folded feathery wings peeping above his shoulder. “Greta stepped inside that building to purchase a hot, drug-induced beverage.”

I smiled. “A coffee?”

He nodded.

“What is Greta doing here?”

“She is picketing with a group of other volunteers. Protesting the Prince of Lies.” He turned to face me, eyes concerned. But he didn’t accuse me of anything. How broken was his halo?

“I hate to ask, but she’s not implying that…”

Eae chuckled as he realized my line of thought. “No, nothing to do with you. Just that… monsters almost killed her and a group of children under her care directly outside your shop. In fact, lately she has nothing but high praise for you. Seeing you in action…” he corrected himself. “Hearing you in action, since she had her eyes closed the majority of the time, showed her the depths of your convictions. She still thinks you have much to absolve with the Father, but that your head is in the right place.”

I nodded. That was huge. It wouldn’t change her actions around my shop, apparently, but at least she didn’t think I was on the edge of becoming a demonic overlord. “That is very… thoughtful of her. I don’t see any harm in that. Well, long term. Short term it’s going to make my bookstore look bad.”

Eae was shaking his head. “She plans to announce that your bookstore is a bastion of good in a world of evil. A safe refuge.”

Oh, boy. Alucard was definitely fired now. If she announced my bookstore as a Biblical outpost for her crusaders, there was no way he could work there. He couldn’t even step foot inside if her army descended on my shop. I began to fear what that meant for my business. After all, the majority of my stock was very open minded on the spiritual side. I told Eae that.

He smiled, but sounded distracted as his eyes seemed to focus on the place where my invisible cane rested. “She has mentioned that she will announce that your head is in the right place, and no matter anyone’s ill-placed faith, your shop is sanctuary and shall be respected for all religions. Good will prevail over evil. Simple as that.”

“Holy crap.”

Eae’s gaze deepened in disapproval.

“Sorry. It’s just, that’s incredibly different than her usual stance.”

“She has taken to my lessons with much fervor. Even though Christ is the one True God, there is room for those intending to be good, and through our understanding perhaps these lost souls will see the errors of our ways. To be righteous, one does not surround themselves with those of like mind. Christ himself dined primarily with sinners, beggars, and the sickly. It does no good to associate only with those who agree with you.”

I nodded at that, silently appreciating the irony. Talk about reaching across the table to spend time with a sinner. I had an Angel hanging out with a guy who had just made a deal with a Demon. Which he was bound to discover sooner or later if I stuck around.

“Right, well wish her luck. I have some things to take care of.”

“The witch,” he nodded.

“Among others.” I turned and began to walk away, not wanting to open a gateway or Shadow Walk so close to him. Nothing to spook him.

“Her Familiar…”

I halted, turning back around. “Know anything helpful about that one?”

He smiled at me. “Houses can burn…”

I couldn’t help that dark grin that split my face. I nodded my appreciation and turned away.

“Nate?” I turned, dreading his tone. He was watching my hip. “Why do you have a cane?”

I let out a weak smile. “I’m just not… able to survive without it…” I enunciated.

He growled back, instantly getting it. “Insolent worm. Disrespectful, filthy…” he continued on for a few moments. Then there was a rustle of fabric and feathers, and he was gone. I grinned in relief. Biblical jokes were great. “Kane and Abel,” I muttered under my breath as I walked an entire block before I dared open a gateway back home.

And I stepped into an alley first.

And behind a dumpster, glancing at the roofs above me before unleashing my spell. I studied my forearms before stepping through the flaming gateway that led to my study, and noticed that the veins on my arm were no longer as dark, and were rapidly fading. I broke out into a sweat as I realized that it could have been very possible that my face had been covered in the dark veins, but of course they hadn’t. Or Eae would have had to be blind not to notice. I signed nervously, marveling at the potential consequences that awaited me for my actions. I had a book to read.

Through the Looking-Glass…

Chapter 47

I sat with the book in my lap, breathing slowly. I had retrieved the copy of Through the Looking-Glass from my safe, but it had not been wobbling any longer, whatever the hell that had been about.

I had locked everything back up after a quick study of the remaining Grimm amulet, thoughtfully thumbing it and remembering my agreement with Silver Tongue. I had checked on Indie to find her sleeping peacefully, and her breathing was easier.

Not wanting to wake a sleeping Grimm – she had been deadly enough as a regular – I had left her alone and wandered back to the office.

I flipped open the book with a nervous breath and stared at the last page.

Were you really there, or are you just in my head?

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and scribbled back, I’m here.

The response was instantaneous, and the writing was not as neat as before, displaying my pen pal’s excitement.

Who is I , and where is here?

I chuckled to myself, and in a nod to the author, I muttered, “We’re all mad here…” before scribbling down my reply and getting comfortable in my chair. No more games, I replied honestly. “In for a penny, in for a pound…” I murmured, knowing Death would eviscerate me for doing this. But I had already made one poor decision tonight. What was one more? I quashed the argument that bubbled up instantaneously.

I didn’t want to share my name with the guy, so I was vague.

A Maker, sitting in my study.

What’s it like?

I smiled. Peaceful. Tranquil. Home.

Ah, I know these things well. What did you think of my home, and why haven’t you returned?

I carefully thought about my response. I didn’t mean to intrude the first time, let alone the second time. It was entirely unintentional, and I do not even know how it happened in the first place.

You sought answers to questions.

I stared at the page, my mind racing. Had I? I calmly reminded myself that this person was raving mad, judging by his past comments. Then again, perhaps he was just lonely.

We continued back and forth for some time, and I soon realized after a few pages of journaling, that the book was simply getting bigger, and that I wasn’t running out of pages. The same single blank page remained until the back cover, but I had already been forced to turn the page several times as we talked, filling the pages with small talk. Mainly about nothing. He seemed curious, eager for company, and genuinely content just to talk with someone. Anyone.

I let out a yawn, and realized that it must be getting very late. It had been hours since I had last seen Alucard. I scribbled a quick note to the Ginger. I had yet to ask anything too personal of him, and he had yet to press me on the issue either. I must go for a time.

But we’ve only just begun!

I’ll be back. I have some stuff to deal with and need some rest.

What is ‘stuff’?

I smiled to myself. Things to take care of. A Demon to be precise.

What is his name? I froze. Did he know about Demons? I scribbled back my answer.

Silver Tongue.

That is no Demon, that is-

And the door to the office creaked open. I jumped to my feet, clutching the book in my hand as my heart raced.

But nothing was there. I carefully placed the book down, magic at the ready, and began to stalk closer on the balls of my feet. I had an intruder. Anyone else would have announced themselves. One of the immortals, perhaps?

I readied myself for a scrap, unsure why the Guardians hadn’t picked up on the unwelcome guest. I stepped closer, glancing behind chairs, but still saw nothing. I took one more step, and an ear-splitting yowl erupted from beneath my feet as my foot landed behind one of the chairs. A blur of fur tore out of the office, hissing and spitting. My heart was palpitating as I let out a nervous chuckle. I set the book down on a table.

“Stupid cat,” I growled, stepping out of the office to see where it had gone. I locked the office behind me, not wanting to risk anyone reading the book, and entered the hall, searching for the feral feline. I began walking down the hall, shaking my arms to relieve the pent-up energy at my sudden adrenaline boost.

As I rounded the corner, I found the cat scratching at the trim near the floor underneath a tall table. The cat sat between the legs of the furniture, and turned to me, back arched as it recognized me as the one who had tried to kill it a few moments ago. A lamp sat on the table.

But… I frowned. A massive floor to ceiling woodland portrait adorned the entire six-foot-wide section of wall. Halls ran parallel on either side where the wall ended, leading off into the rest of the sprawling mansion. I took a step back, studying the arrangement in silence. The cat began cleaning its paws, watching me through lidded eyes. Was it the painting itself that had caught my eye? A quick perusal of the art took me a few seconds, but nothing jumped out at me as odd.

I tapped my lip in thought, then I realized what it was. The table.

It was off-center by about two feet, and who would place a table here so that it blocked off such a large painting? I stepped closer and moved the table, causing the cat to bolt away. Satisfied, I flicked on the lamp. But nothing happened. I frowned, took out the bulb, inspected it, but found nothing wrong with it. I screwed it back in place and got down on all fours to check the outlet. The cat instantly approached, tail lashing as it offered me the chance to worship its beauty. I shoved it away gently and turned back to the wall.

There was no outlet.

Outlets were typically placed in areas where they were deemed necessary by the builder, and tables such as this were typically arranged in an area where there was a purpose. For example, directly over an outlet. As far back as I could remember, this table had sat here, undisturbed, with a lamp and a book displayed for decoration. It was a convenient spot to toss down some mail, or your keys, or whatever was on your person that you might randomly want to get rid of.

I was kind of surprised that Dean hadn’t noticed that the lamp was entirely useless.

Duh, it must be behind the picture. I tried to lift up the base of the frame but it wouldn’t budge. The cat was instantly beside me again, pawing at the frame insistently. I began to shove it away, but froze as a light draft brushed my fingers.

I reached past the cat, and found that the draft was strongest just near the bottom of the painting, near the trim. I stood and took a few steps back. The painting stretched from ceiling to trim, and the cat had in fact been pawing at the elaborately carved wooden frame of the painting, not the wall.

As I studied the painting from a few paces back, I realized that the left side had a break in the pattern that wasn’t obvious, but upon close scrutiny stood out. I stepped closer and touched it with a finger. A Fleur De Lis was worn on this side, as opposed to the rest of the frame. As my finger settled on it, I felt a slight give.

So I pushed.

And the entire wall swung inwards on dusty hinges, emitting a slight groan.

I stood completely still with disbelief for a few moments, the cool draft rushing over me to reveal stone steps and darkness on the other side. And I suddenly realized I was no longer tired and that I fancied another walk. The cat bolted inside, disappearing from view. Well, no help for it now. I had to go after the beast.

I shook my head, an excited smile building. “Freaking cats…” and I took a step into the unknown, igniting a ball of fire to hover before me like a torch.

Chapter 48

Again, Indie found me in the office frantically flipping through the blueprints, an empty coffee pot lying sideways on the corner of the desk. A half-empty box of crackers and a cutting board with remnants of cheese crumbs and summer sausage wrappers sat on one of the couches. My caffeine-fueled eyes took note of her entrance for the briefest of seconds before jumping back to the blueprints. She was petting the cat as she entered, staring at the mess.

“Morning,” I said.

“Have you even gone to sleep yet?”

“What?” I asked, checking another section of the blueprints. I traced the lines with my finger as Indie said something else to me. I checked a few more lines, verifying my location, and then slammed my palm down on the table with a triumphant shout. “Yes! I knew it!”

“Nate!”

I jumped at the tone in her voice, coming back out of my thoughts. “Yes?” I asked, looking up at her. She had set the cat down, and the mangy beast was pawing at the cutting board, nibbling on a piece of cheese. She was standing directly opposite me, frowning. And she looked… amazing. She had been healed! Then I remembered my forearms and froze for a second, almost forgetting I had thrown on a light long sleeve shirt. I let out a nervous sigh of relief that I hoped she took for guilt.

I dropped my pen and raced around the table to wrap her in a tight hug. I kissed her cheek and stepped back, admiring her as I gripped her biceps. “You look wonderful,” I smiled.

She blushed at the abrupt change in my demeanor, smiling brightly. “Did you hear a single thing I just said?”

“Um… no. I’m sorry.” I pointed down at the blueprints. “I found evidence that the blueprints are incomplete. Or wrong. Or something. I found…” the cat let out a meow of protest at no more food being available. “Well, the cat over there found-”

“Sir Muffle Paws,” Indie corrected adamantly.

“Right. Sir Muffle Paws found a secret passage last night. So I checked it out.” Her eyes grew suddenly worried. I waved her off. “Listen,” I leaned forward, excitement overwhelming me as I was finally able to share my find. “It’s not on the map.”

“Show me,” she stepped up to the blueprints, looking suddenly interested. I pointed and she shook her head in wonder. “Incredible…” she whispered. Then she tensed, suddenly looking up at me.

“I know!” I laughed. “My house is infested with even more sneaky passages than I already knew of! Think about it, Indie! What else is lying around h-”

She clapped her hands. “Nate! Achilles is downstairs.”

I blinked, losing my train of thought. Then I cursed, having forgotten all about our meet with Pandora. My frantic search for more secrets had burned away all other thoughts.

“Shit. Okay, tell him,” I hesitated, plucking up the empty coffee pot and shoving it towards Indie. “Get him some coffee or something and tell him-”

“Tell me what, Maker?”

Indie jumped, and the cat disappeared under the couch. Achilles stood in the doorway, watching us curiously.

“Tell him I was just putting some things away and I’ll be ready in a minute. Since you’re already here, you can just grab a seat.”

“I’ll stand.” He looked uncomfortable, stiff, as if he had other things on his mind.

“Right. Okay.” I glanced down at the mess in front of me. I moved a few pens around, feeling his eyes watching me. I shuffled some papers around for appearances, then nodded. “Okay. I’m ready. You?” Indie nodded. “Well, follow me, I guess.

* * *

Achilles wasn’t impressed by the secret passageway, nor the means to access it. I had been hoping to see a look of surprise on his face as we were sucked into a fireplace, but he came out cool, calm, and collected. He followed me in silence.

“Well, why the long face?” I asked over my shoulder. “I thought you were excited about seeing her…”

There was a pause, and then he cleared his throat. “It’s been a long time.” Indie shot me a knowing grin, and I finally got it. Achilles was nervous!

Not wanting him to kill me, I didn’t give him a hard time about it. He wasn’t the most forgiving when it came to stomping on his personal life, if history was any judge.

I reached the door, an intricately carved stone piece depicting a woodland scene around a small pond. It was easily ten-feet-tall and filled with creatures that even now darted about playfully. A wolf sat before the pond, gazing at the fish, as did a pair of owls on a tree branch. I was careful not to reveal my skin, lest the dark veins show. I hadn’t lifted up my sleeves to look down at them this morning, so obsessed with the blueprints, but it was possible they were still present. Hell, I hadn’t even picked up the book to check the Ginger’s last response, and now it was lying out in the open for anyone to find. I would just have to make this trip as quick as possible.

Indie knelt down, smiling at the tiny fish darting to and fro in the pool. Achilles studied it thoughtfully, and finding no immediate threat, his eyes glazed over again, growing harder as we neared Pandora. I used a small pocket knife to slice the pad of my thumb, and placed it on the wolf. It whined appreciatively under my touch and the door immediately began to open on silent hinges, despite its age. Achilles rubbed his forearm idly, a nervous gesture, perhaps?

Indie skipped back excitedly, no doubt eager to speak with my mother about dresses and such for our upcoming wedding. We hadn’t picked a date or anything, but that could change with them having their heads together for too long. But most importantly, I could see that Indie just wanted a break. Something normal. And she looked healthy, so I could deny her nothing.

Indie danced forward. “I’m going to go speak to your parents. You boys okay without me?” She called, not turning back. I grumbled a response, but Achilles was silent.

Then she rounded a corner, leaving us standing before the door in an awkward silence. I began walking forward, and he followed me. “Hey, Heel,” I started conversationally.

He grunted.

“I think I’m having a bad idea… Want to hear it?” He responded with an amused, but distant grin, nodding absently. I told him my plan. About Indie getting sicker, weaker, or whatever it was that was happening to her. Although I didn’t mention that she was suddenly better, or how. But I reminded him of the immortals relentlessly tailing us. And my no doubt ridiculously stupid plan to get to the bottom of the situation. I let the silence build after finishing, and added, “Gunnar usually talks me out of these.”

“No, you should definitely do that.” His face was animated for the first time today. “Just toss me an alley-oop at some point.” I grinned back, nodding at his wolfish smile.

Chapter 49

We had reached the room with the open balconies that unfolded onto a harsh desert. Where I had first met my librarian. Hope, as I had called her, not learning until later that she was in fact the infamous Pandora. I still wasn’t quite sure if she was Pandora’s Box, or if the Armory she guarded for me was Pandora’s Box. Either was dangerous. But if she was Pandora’s Box, whatever was floating around in that brain of hers was infinitely more dangerous than the plethora of magical weapons and artifacts stored here.

Achilles stood frozen, staring out at the barren landscape. As I thought about it, it looked much like that scenery in the movie, Troy, with Brad Pitt. I wondered how accurate it was. Then I remembered that Pandora had showed me, well, had let me relive the infamous battle between Achilles and Hector. And this was spot on. As I gazed out at the scenery, I again wondered where exactly we were. If this was some sort of replica of ancient Greece, or if we were literally in a section of present-day Greece. I had always limited my time here at the Armory in an effort to not tempt myself into taking something.

But after sharing my idea with Achilles…

Well, I might just have to break my code.

Something Pandora had mentioned had made me reconsider things.

As if on cue, Pandora softly stepped into the room, out of Achilles’ view. She nodded politely in my direction, noticing my attention, but she had eyes only for Achilles. And the look on her face was all pain. Not for a memory, but for what she saw before her.

Achilles’ face never changed, but he slowly turned to face her, somehow knowing she was present. He kept his eyes downcast as he finally stood facing her. He slowly lifted his gaze, millimeter by millimeter, taking in her bare – horribly-painted toenails and all – feet, her ankles, the hem of her light toga, up to her slender hips, her nervously fidgeting hands, her shoulders, and finally her eyes.

His face was hard, scarred, and as unforgiving as an Oak tree. “I’m…” he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry, Pandora…”

Her voice cracked as she let loose a small sob, and then she was racing towards him. He caught her in open arms, face shattered with shame and guilt. I felt like an intruder. I began to step back, but Pandora lurched away from him in a sudden shout, almost the moment they touched.

She was rubbing her hands as if wiping away filth, and her eyes went from wild with outrage, to sadness, and finally… to regretful understanding. It was a confusing chain of reactions, and her features shifted from one to the other in a rapid flash. “Oh, Achilles…”

He nodded. “Pain begets pain. Consequence begets consequence…” he murmured, eyes downcast again. “I had meant my apology as more of a blanket apology. For actions both known and unknown.”

She was shaking her head, but not in anger, more in utter despair. “But you know his ways. How could you?”

I had absolutely no idea what was going on, but took a step back to leave them to it.

They both held up a hand, commanding me to stay put, but they didn’t turn to look at me. “My heart refused to let me see it, although I knew I would experience pain today, my grief allowed me to overlook the obvious signs.”

She pointed a finger at Achilles’ arm.

And I all but jumped back in alarm. A spiderweb of darkness crept where his veins would be, as if his blood was the blackest of oil.

And I had seen it before.

On my own arms. I was suddenly glad my arms were concealed, but horrified to see Achilles had made a deal with Silver Tongue at some point. Then another thought hit me. He had called me Silver Tongue at the bar. Almost as if… warning me. Which was on par with his previous actions. He never outright warned me, simply casually said things that I was meant to pick up. But this was cutting the cake.

“I think one of you needs to tell me exactly what the hell is going on here, and I think you need to leave, Achilles. You have not been entirely honest with me. I hereby revo-”

A bar of light slammed into me before I could complete my sentence, and I found myself suddenly suspended in a glittering white cage a foot above the floor. I shouted, and hammered fists against the cage, but no sound came out. I also felt no pain from striking the surface. No matter how hard I struck the force, I felt not a flicker of injury or pain. But it was as solid as marble.

Pandora lowered her arm, having been the one to cast the spell. “Do not be hasty, Master. He has indeed misled you, but more out of personal embarrassment than anything sinister. You and the Armory are in no danger.” She cocked her head at Achilles, who nodded his agreement. She finally turned to face me. “Can I presume you will act like a rational, responsible adult, and hear him out?” I nodded, gritting my teeth.

She released me, and I immediately threw myself at the demigod. A metaphysical fist of raw purple Maker juice formed, already sailing towards his jaw even though I was still six feet away. His head hammered back at the blow, but he didn’t raise a fist in retaliation. And his feet never left the ground, taking the hit standing. I threw another punch, and this time a vague representation of a spear – seemingly made of condensed air, as I could see distorted shapes through it as if looking through smoked glass – appeared in his fist. The spear pierced my metaphysical fist from underneath and it exploded with a crack, blowing our hair back.

He lifted his merciless eyes to mine. “I warned you about that once, Maker. You won’t like me when I’m angry. There will be a reckoning. But right now, by the Gods, you will listen. There are things you need to know. And some things you need to derive on your own.”

I spat out a sneer. “You made a deal with a crossroads Demon.”

The silence was deafening. They turned from me to each other, and then back again. “In a way…” Achilles answered. “Where did you come to this conclusion?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, but it does. For that person is a dead man.”

I was silent for a time. “He is.”

Pandora was staring at me oddly, then her eyes shot open, flicking to my forearms, even though they were concealed beneath my shirt. “No! I warned you of this!” She collapsed to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees like a child, and began rocking back and forth urgently, murmuring under her breath. “Fire. Sparks. Embers. Fire. Sparks. Embers…” Again, and again, and again, non-stop.

Achilles shot me a glare as he knelt to comfort her. “There, there, Panda… all will be well.” He turned to me, eyes like spears as they flickered down to my forearms. I bared my skin to reveal similar dark veins. His eyes smoldered in response. “How stupid could you possibly be? She warned you. Your world is forever changed now, boy. You have no idea.”

“Warned me?” I shouted back. “She said that same phrase,” I gestured, pointing at her murmuring about embers and sparks, “and then told me not to worry about it in her next breath. I still don’t have any idea what happened. Indie was dying. A man in my shop brought up a solution. He warned me repeatedly, telling me it was only a last resort. I decided it was the only option available to me. I’ve checked with Pandora. My parents. You. Asterion. Midas. Everyone. And none of you could… or would,” I snarled angrily, “help. So, I made a choice, consequences be damned. I made a deal with the crossroads Demon.” I glanced at his arm. He instinctively slammed his palm over the now-visible black veins. “The same choice you made. Silver-” I hesitated, remembering the dangers of speaking his name, “he promised that she would be healed. She has been. It was worth it.”

He was shaking his head. “No, lad. No, it wasn’t. You didn’t know what you were doing, but that was intentional. It is his way. None may speak of it with the uninitiated, punishable by death. Even to someone like me,” he added angrily.

I swallowed audibly, wondering what could kill a demigod.

“But now that it’s done, we may speak freely. Somewhat. I chose fame over happiness. I had the opportunity to go to war at Troy and to have my name remembered for the ages… or to find true joy and happiness, but my name forgotten for all time. I had a responsibility to look after her, and a desire to. But one small fight…” he glanced down at Pandora, who was still rocking back and forth, eyes closed as she repeated her mantra, “and I flew off the handle. Made a choice I will regret forever. What I was promised came true, but at what cost?”

“Your deal with the crossroads Demon made you decide to go to Troy?” I asked in disbelief, wondering how a Demon could so directly affect world events.

He blinked back at me. “No, you idiot. That was my hubris. But my agreement not to fight or interact too directly in world events – only with those also affected by the same restrictions – was as a result of my desire to at least gain something out of what I lost.” I stared blankly at him, not following. But the look on his face told me it would be pretty wise to let him say it on his own terms, at his own speed. “I wanted to at least see Patroclus again. I couldn’t interact with him, but I wanted to see him. At that time, I had unsuccessfully tracked Pandora for centuries to no avail. The only peace left to me was to see my old friend again. I made the deal. I saw the shade of my friend, for all of five minutes, and I have been paying for that glimpse for close to one hundred years. A ghost myself. A part of the world, but not truly. I am merely a spectator. Me! One of the most active demigods in history, forced to sit in the stands. The three immortals you face made similar bargains,” he muttered.

I frowned. “If that is the case, why did you let Van Helsing slap you around?”

His scowl deepened. “He was on orders from our master. Something that directly impacted you somehow. Which meant, the real world. Which meant, I could do nothing. I even told you the damn name, boy. Silver Tongue. Do you never listen?”

I threw up my hands. “What the hell was I supposed to do with a random name, especially when you called me Silver Tongue? It’s a turn of phrase, meaning someone who can sell anything.”

He nodded. “I know.” He looked frustrated. “It was more than I should have been able to do, muttering that name, but I had hoped that it would be remembered. At least when you heard it again, it might give you pause, remembering my past subtle ways of assisting you.”

Which was right. In his own way, Achilles had always managed to feed me information I needed. Although I had yet to follow through in time, building a widening gap of anger and frustration between us.

“Oh, Midas and Asterion told me as much as they could about Silver Tongue. Which was a whole lot of nothing. By the time I realized who it was, it was too late. I had to make the deal to save Indie.”

“None of it matters anymore,” he sighed with regret. “What did you trade?”

“Wilhelm’s amulet.”

He stared at me as if I may have been the stupidest creature to ever grace his presence. “A fucking seeder amulet,” and he began to chuckle in despair, defeat, and dark humor at the hopelessness of what I had unknowingly done.

“And what is that?”

“One of the first Grimm amulets. It can grow other amulets. So, congratulations for bringing the Grimms back,” his eyes glittered with a frosty fury, “you idiot.”

My blood froze. My mouth opened, then closed. He rolled his eyes and turned back to Pandora, rubbing her back affectionately, murmuring soothing words to her.

My mind was racing at the possible consequences. I began to talk aloud. “Everyone at the party has dealt with this demon…” Achilles squinted a bit at me for some reason, but nodded. “But that doesn’t explain why they are all after this book.” Achilles shrugged. My eyes trailed to Pandora, and an idle thought slipped out of my mouth. “Why didn’t you press me sooner on visiting Pandora?”

He stood to his feet and looked at me.

When I say looked, it should really come with a warning label. Because I wanted to instinctively run away. He didn’t answer at first, but I heard him loud and clear.

None of your business.

After a few moments, he finally spoke. “I was… ashamed.” It took a lot for him to say that, and I suddenly felt bad for asking. I didn’t respond. I just waited. And he continued after a time. “I learned to play the long game over time. Not being able to participate actively in the world forced me to take another perspective. When I heard about you and the Armory, and then you wound up in my shop, talking with Death at the bar, with no clue who he really was…” his eyes twinkled in distant amusement, “and then you sucker-punched Eae.” He let out a barking laugh of disbelief. “I knew I was going to like you. Because I used to be just like you.” He weighed me with his gaze. “Which means I know how you think, and the errors you are likely to make. But… I couldn’t influence you.” A wave of frustration rippled across his cheeks and lips. “So, I helped you in ways you mistook for betrayal.”

And I remembered a few months back. When he had pointed me in the direction to hunt down a rogue vampire. We had almost been slaughtered in the sewers, and had instantly made me presume it to be a setup. But… it had put me on the trail for the Grimms before I would have known otherwise, and it had led me to a new friend, Alucard. But… I had thanked him by picking a fight with him, disrespecting him in front of his friends, threatening him, destroying his door, and then pinching his heel.

“I have killed men for less,” he added, as if reading my thoughts. I nodded. “I earned my way into your good graces by not killing you,” he chuckled. I smiled back. I couldn’t help it. He was telling the truth, and it had worked. “I knew if I could earn your trust, perhaps respect even, you would eventually mention my name to Pandora, or I would discreetly press you to do so. And then gauge her response.” He shrugged. “Worked out perfectly well until you fucked it all up by making a deal with Silver Tongue.”

“I’ve never heard his name until recently. Granted, I’m not that up to date on demons, but-”

He was frowning at me again, so I stopped talking. “You do know that he isn’t truly a demon, right?”

I stared at him, and the pieces began suddenly crashing together. But I stubbornly shook my head, denying it. I began to pace, sidling up to the railing overlooking the desert, thinking furiously. My mysterious client wanted his book, come hell or high water. The immortals wanted the book, but wouldn’t tell me why. Or had conflicting descriptions of what it was or did. The immortals had made a deal with this Silver Tongue at some point. I had made a deal with him to save Indie. And I suddenly realized why Eae hadn’t sensed a Demon when we shook hands. Indie was either sick from her powers, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, or… she had gotten sick from the book. The book all those infected by Silver Tongue wanted. And every time I asked why they wanted it, they clammed up.

Just like every time I had asked Achilles about the immortals.

Because… they couldn’t talk to someone who hadn’t made a deal.

But now I had made a deal.

“I think it’s time for me to crash this party.” I turned back to Achilles to find him holding Pandora easily.

“She’ll be fine shortly. I’ll talk to her, if you don’t mind…” I nodded absently as he placed her on a sofa just as Indie entered the room. Achilles shot me a warning look as if reminding me not to talk to her about my deal.

I wasn’t that stupid. She would kill me before Silver Tongue ever would.

“I can find my own way out, as long as you are okay with that.” I nodded, smiling as my cheeks reddened at my previous outburst.

“I did get a nice punch in,” I teased.

“And I took it without flinching…” his eyes twinkled in challenge.

I chuckled, shaking my head.

“Just remember your bad idea, and let me know. I’ve got a few friends who might like to make use of this… loophole.” I nodded.

Indie was watching us curiously, not even noticing Pandora tucked into the couch as Achilles was blocking her view. “Let’s go, Indie. We have places to be.” Indie frowned, nodding slowly as her eyes drifted to Achilles, likely surprised that I was leaving him alone in the Armory.

But she didn’t question me. I smiled at her. She studied the look on my face, but finally stepped closer for a hug, not pressing the issue. But I was pretty sure she was simply running through wedding plans.

I let her. Something nice to think about before the shit hit the fan.

Also, because I wasn’t entirely sure of her role in all of this…

But I knew how to find out.

I hugged her back, masking my thoughts as we left.

Chapter 50

I meditated, allowing the events of the last few days to coalesce around me in a complicated swirl. I heard a deep purring, and cracked an eye to find the cat sauntering into the study before me. I had lit a fire, and the cat apparently approved. I didn’t despise it…

As much as I had before, anyway.

It had revealed a secret passage to me, confirming my thoughts about the incorrect blueprints. The cat studied me for a moment, something clutched in its mouth, before flicking its tail and curling up on the rug in front of me and the fire.

A foul smell permeated the soothing smoke.

Fish.

Raw fish.

Just then, Indie popped her head in the door. “How’s it going, Buddha?” she teased.

I pointed at the cat, closing my eyes again. “Did you give him treats? Now he’ll never leave.”

She laughed musically. “Of course, I gave Sir Muffle Paws a treat. He helped you find a dark and dusty passage. He is now officially a Temple.”

“Raw fish is not exactly a good treat for him to carry around the house. If he drops any of it, we’re going to have rancid fish hidden behind a chair or something.”

There was a silence. I peeled open my eyes to look at her. She was frowning at the cat. “I didn’t give him fish. I gave him some treats Dean picked up at the store. Dry treats.”

We both turned to look at the cat, who had finished the fish, and was now rolling on its back, stretching. “Dean?” I asked softly.

“Why would he buy dry treats and then give him fish…” she murmured in response. “I’ll go find him and ask. Leave you to your meditation. I’m sure it’s nothing. You going to be ready to go soon?”

I nodded, discarding the thought as the fish smell faded away under the smoke. “Think so.”

“You haven’t told me where we’re going yet,” she added, pausing in the doorway. “Will this outfit work?”

I glanced at her. Jeans, tee, and sneakers. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. I nodded. “Smoking.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she left, humming as she meandered through the halls in search of my Butler. Our Butler. The sunken look under her eyes was entirely gone, and she merely looked like she had just woken up from a long nap.

But I still had questions about her involvement. She could successfully lie to Jeffries – the supernatural lie detector – so I knew there was no way I could simply ask her for the truth. I had to find out on my own.

And I still had me to worry about. I had taken to wearing long sleeves. Luckily, she hadn’t noticed anything yet. I took a deep breath, shot another look at the cat, who was now cleaning itself in the most inappropriate of places, and closed my eyes with a disgusted grimace.

What felt like hours passed as my mind danced from idea to idea, connecting, disconnecting, and reconnecting dots from the puzzle of recent events, but I’m sure it was only half an hour. With a sudden grin, a solid plan formed and I opened my eyes to find the book directly in my gaze. I stood, stretching slowly as I picked it up, opened it to the last page, and read the Ginger’s response. My smile stretched wider as I asked one last question. The frosting on the cake.

What is his Name? I underlined the last word, and the Ginger’s response was practically immediate, complete with enunciation lines and a phonetic depiction of a long, single word.

My stomach flip-flopped in surprise as even more dots came crashing together. From the past. And the smile on my face transformed into something truly wicked to behold. Judging from Indie’s gasp as she abruptly reentered the room anyway.

I didn’t explain. I couldn’t. Yet. But I needed her for this next part.

As bait.

Chapter 51

We stood in the field, Indie tapping her foot impatiently as she glared at my back.

“What are we doing here, Nate?”

“We won’t be much longer. It’s better if I don’t say.” Which went over all sorts of terrible.

“What do you mean, it’s better if I don’t say,” she growled back. I smiled, glad she couldn’t see my face.

I noticed a familiar sensation. “I sense a disturbance in the Force…” I murmured.

Indie was suddenly on full alert as a figure appeared out of thin air. Baba approached on slippered feet, no shadow traced her travel, which meant it was either invisible, standing right behind me, or doing other things at the moment, none of which were good. I kept my face neutral. Baba watched me warily as she approached, eyes flicking from me to Indie in consideration.

I waved at her.

She hesitated, and then slowly waved back, eyes narrowing as if waiting for a trap. Instead, I slowly lifted my sleeve, and shot a look for Baba’s eyes only. She halted, gasping, and I dropped my sleeve, nodding. Indie whirled to look at me, having missed whatever I had just done. Baba shivered, glanced uncertainly at Indie, and then back to me.

“I… see,” she said. She stopped a safe distance away, close enough for us to talk but not touch. “I sensed the book again. The sensation was missing for some time, but now the trace is back. What exactly is going on?”

I didn’t answer her question, although I could see Indie had the same thoughts. “Here is how it is going to work. I require a down payment from you and your fellow… initiated,” I grinned.

Her eyes narrowed. “And why would we pay you for something we can take.”

I nodded, conceding her point. “Sure, you can kill me. Even try to kill Indie here. I doubt it would end well, but there’s always the chance that you walk away breathing…” Baba waited, sensing a trap. “But you’ll never get the book. If I or any of my friends die, are kidnapped, or are otherwise placed in danger, the book disappears. Permanently.” Her eyes looked suddenly horrified.

“What makes you think I can believe such a claim?”

“Yeah, what she said,” Van suddenly said, unfolding from a crouch in the tall grass. He took a step closer, arms folded, glancing pointedly at my own forearms. Good, so he had been here long enough to see that. Made me a bit nervous that I hadn’t known he was present, or for how long. But that didn’t matter now.

An arrow slammed into the dirt directly before his foot as he began to take another step. He chuckled as a form wavered into existence on the opposite side of Indie. The arrow had missed Indie by inches on its journey to Van. Indie glared at the Huntress, who merely smiled back.

“Huntress,” Van murmured, dipping his head in mock respect.

“Where is the feisty little one?” She ignored him, looking directly at me instead.

“Uh,” I frowned, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

“The master of beasts,” she elaborated.

I let out a laugh, realizing she meant Tory. “I don’t think she would like that title.” The Huntress frowned, seeming to not understand why ever not. “She’s otherwise obligated.” I turned to address the group, disregarding the Huntress’ calculating look.

“Nate, mind explaining what the hell is going on?” Indie said, eyes dancing from threat to threat. I nodded.

“You guys all hear my introduction or do I need to repeat myself?” I asked. They all nodded, murmuring that they had heard me speaking with Baba. “Okay, your ante into my coffers grants you the location of where the book will be tonight. Whoever wants out simply doesn’t have to make a deposit. But I’m sure your boss wouldn’t like that…” I let that build on itself for a moment, each of the three immortals shooting furtive glances at the others, eyes guarded.

“He won’t like this. Do you have any idea what you are doing right now?”

I shrugged. “Being reckless,” I grinned.

Van let out a laugh. “You have no idea who you are messing with.”

I flashed him a condescending smile, all teeth. “Oh, you have no idea what I know. Let’s just say that I’m not afraid of the little guy.” Incredulous looks met mine. I held my smile. “But let me just throw this out there. He isn’t pleased that one of you let me know about him in the first place.” Arguments sprang up in an instant, denying any such thing.

I simply watched them, my face a mask, spending exactly the same amount of time with the exact same look on my face, on each person present, giving away nothing. “That’s not possible,” the Huntress uttered finally.

“Oh, it’s possible. And will mean you three Musketeers will be one short after the dust settles. Which kind of means you should all show up, or else one of your pals here might just collaborate with the other to frame you. That would be… unfortunate.”

Shouts of outrage erupted from Baba and the Huntress, but Van merely studied me acutely. Again, I gave away nothing. I could sense Indie watching me with the same intensity, but I didn’t acknowledge her. “How much is this ante?”

“That is entirely up to you. Just know this. The ante gets you into the game tonight. There will be a final bid required to win the book itself. A silent auction. A nod of respect and irony, I guess, to the auction house where this all began.” Van’s face darkened in understanding, appreciating my apparent greed, but I held up a hand. “The funds will be used to pay back the families destroyed by… one of your actions.” The look on Van’s face suddenly changed to something unreadable. I leaned closer conspiratorially. “Little tip about auctions. The higher the number, the better.” Then I turned my back on them, holding out my arm for Indie. “And remember, myself, Indie, or any of my friends so much as breaks a fingernail before tonight, the book will be destroyed, and I’ll leave you to your boss.” And I began to walk away, Indie staring straight ahead, spine straight, oozing a fraudulent self-confidence for their benefit.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Baba demanded.

“You’ll regret this, you worm,” the Huntress snarled impotently.

“Where do we send this money?” Van shouted.

“Look at your feet. I put the information on a piece of paper in your respective cow patties. Oh, and better make both deposits before tonight. Things might get wild later. You’ll find my phone number in your pockets.” I let out a loud laugh at their threats, shouts, and exclamations of disbelief at how I possibly left my number or the deposit account number right in front of their noses. “Bring whomever you want with you as backup,” I added casually. I smiled at Indie, ignoring them. “Shall we?”

She let out a shaky breath. “Y… yes. I think we shall. I need a stiff drink.”

“Me too,” I grinned, letting out my breath for the first time as I opened a portal to a random street. I didn’t want them following me. I had some phone calls to make. I needed everyone in one place. So that I could see they were all safe. And so I could tear off some masks.

“No drinks for you, Nate,” Indie murmured distractedly. She finally glanced at me after we stepped through the portal and I let if fold back in on itself. “Do you have any idea what you are doing? It sure feels like you are playing dice here.”

“No dice,” I patted her back. “The dice of god are always loaded.” She watched me as I opened another portal, this time home. Her eyes were thoughtful as she followed in silence. I had a lot to do.

Chapter 52

The voice on the other line sputtered in disbelief, “That’s not possible.”

“I assure you, one of the other competitors told me the name of the man hiding the book. Apparently, he’s been behind it all along.”

“Well, who is it, man?!” The voice sounded desperate.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. We’re meeting tonight. Your boss should probably join us. I can’t guarantee the safety of the book for long.” I had to play this one dangerously. I had to give enough to get him to show, but not give away too much of what I knew or else it would ruin everything. So I was bluffing. Kind of.

I told him where we were meeting, and let him know I would have the money in my account from the one who had betrayed his boss. Proof.

“This is highly unbelievable.”

“I find it a little more than I bargained for, but I’m simply telling you things in real time like you asked. This competitor is spilling the beans tonight, so I’m betting the book will be present. Right now, I need to go prepare.” I hung up to more sputtering arguments and demands for more answers.

Gunnar watched me with one eye. “Do you mind telling me what in the hell is going on? What did that call have to do with Ashley?”

I frowned. “That had nothing to do with Ashley. I called you to let you know I’m setting up a meet for everyone. But more importantly-”

“Where are we all meeting?” He snarled, fist clenching at his side.

I blinked. “I had assumed you were coming anyway. Don’t worry. I wasn’t going to keep it from you. Easy there, Fido.” He smiled faintly – very faintly – at my jibe, and nodded after taking a deep breath. I told him where and his eye grew calculating.

“But what I meant to tell you is that I think I’ve found a way to duplicate your rune for Ashley.” His anger evaporated like a wave had suddenly washed it out to sea. He leaned forward eagerly, and listened to my explanation of his rune, how my father had given it to him, and my plan for Ashley. As soon as I finished he let out a relieved shout of joy and wrapped me up in a big old hug, thanking me profusely with much back patting. He didn’t know his own strength.

Or didn’t care.

“Okay, okay. Down, boy. Easy. Before we get to that, we need to take care of bidness tonight.”

“Bidness. Right. How many do you need?”

I thought about that. I didn’t want things getting too crowded. Nor did I want any new faces added as an enemy to the bad guys tonight. “Just you and Ashley. I don’t want your wolves on anyone’s radar. Especially after the curveballs I’ll be tossing around tonight.”

“Tell me about these curveballs.”

I shook my head. “Nope. I literally can’t. You’re all going to have to trust me on this. I’m not even doing it for personal enjoyment this time.” I let a smile stretch my face. “That isn’t to say that I’m not personally enjoying your torture, just that it isn’t my motive.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “Sure.” He stood. “We’ll be there. With Tory and Alucard, don’t worry,” he added, noticing my mouth opening to remind him of just that. I closed it with a click and he left the store, whistling as he went. I heard his new motorcycle rev up and rolled my eyes. Such a cliché. Werewolves on motorcycles. Might as well throw some glitter on Alucard.

My phone began to blow up with text messages over the next hour as I readied the rest of my plan. It seemed they had each spent the better part of five minutes mucking through their cow patties only to find that my phone number had been written on their hands.

None were pleased.

Which just broke my heart.

I checked my account to find they had each made their dual deposits, and the new balance in my account was staggering. I responded back with the location to each of them, smiling in anticipation, and a deeply-buried anxiety. This could still all go horribly wrong, but at least I stood a shot of not dying.

As quickly.

Chapter 53

My gang stood in the field again, everyone fidgeting idly and speaking in low tones. Then the three immortals were suddenly standing in a row before us, hands ready for a fight. Baba’s house loomed over her back, the long-beaked skull hanging over her shoulder by a good couple feet, robes of black hanging listlessly. The Huntress stood by herself, but was covered in a vast array of weapons. Her eyes settled on Tory, and a hungry smile split her features. Tory merely frowned, looking uncomfortable.

It wasn’t really a threatening smile. It was an… eager one. The Huntress’ smile stretched even further and she winked. Tory’s mouth dropped open, and Indie covered her mouth, apparently from a sudden cough. Tory spun angrily, glaring at Indie. The two began murmuring to each other in low tones, too quietly to overhear. But Alucard’s face began to turn red. Vampire hearing was useful at times. I’d ask him later.

Van’s gaze halted abruptly on Gunnar and Ashley, mouth opening in surprise.

Which was understandable.

Ashley and Gunnar stood beside each other, partially shifted so that they resembled nothing more than bipedal hulked-out werewolves. Their torsos looked humanoid, but covered in fur. But the tips of their appendages – hands, feet, and head – were all werewolf.

Gunnar’s icy white fur seemed to glow in the moonlight, and his upper arms were three times their original size. Three inch, terrible black claws extended from his massive white paws – the size of a freaking liger or something – which looked perfectly capable of wielding weapons thanks to the furry opposable thumbs. A large, horrifying wolf head rested on his shoulders. Now that I thought about it, he kind of resembled the Minotaur in size and body type. Wolf head, human body, but hands and feet closer to that of a beast.

But wait, there’s more…

His furred chest was crossed with nylon straps holding spare clips of ammo, and twin holsters hung at his belt, with over-sized pistols, one black and one white. I had no idea where he had gotten them, but an AR-15 also hung loosely from a sling around his back. He was the freaking Rambo of werewolves. His single eye glittered hungrily as he watched Van, panting hungrily.

Ashley was simply a smaller version of her alpha, midnight black fur to his shining white. But no one could dismiss the wild gleam in her eyes as anything other than detrimental to their health.

She growled a warning at Van Helsing.

Van finally let out a laugh, shaking his head. “First time for everything, I guess. Let’s get this party started. The appetizers look delicious!” and he winked at Ashley. Which didn’t go over well. Ashley lunged, and Gunnar latched a meaty paw onto the ruff of her fur, halting her with a low bark. She yelped, tail tucked between her legs, but never took her murderous gaze from Van.

“We’re waiting for one more,” I replied lazily. The immortals began to grow uneasy. They hid it well, but I knew fear well. They were terrified of what was about to happen.

And the best part? They had nothing to fear. But keeping them afraid kept me alive a bit longer. And that was all I needed.

The ground rumbled, and a figure of shadow and flame suddenly tore free from the earth, clawing, scraping, and snarling as it came. It breached the surface of the ground, seeming to claw its way from the very depths of hell on a prison-break, and finally settled into a haze of shifting shadows, embers, and sparks. Luckily, the field didn’t catch fire. The creature’s fiery white eyes acknowledged me with a scowl and I smiled back.

“Looks like we’re all here,” I smiled. “If you would please follow-”

The Demon spoke from directly behind me. “What about your client?” it whispered, but loud enough for all to hear.

I chuckled, hoping that I masked the fear from my voice. “I think you know the folly of that question, Silver Tongue.” There was a surprised silence as I took another step, and disappeared from their view.

Asterion stood before me. “All are present?”

I nodded. “Incoming.”

He shook his head. “This won’t end well.”

“Better than it could anywhere else, I suppose.” He grunted and fixed his glare upon the empty space behind me. I stepped up beside him and folded my arms, yawning.

My friends came in first, arguing over their shoulders, but warily studying their sudden surroundings. None of them looked surprised. I had already warned them of this much at least. They quickly stepped a safe distance back as the immortals entered, hands on their assorted weapons. My own hand rested on my cane, squeezing it sporadically to relieve my tension. So far, so good.

Then the Demon entered in a flying leap, sailing directly over our heads to land in the center of the circle. His eyes darted back and forth, taking everything in. The blazing sunset in the distance, the smooth dirt grounds circled by hundreds of flickering torches, and the infinite pool of darkness just beyond the flames.

The Dueling Grounds.

And judging by the looks on the immortal faces, they hadn’t ever heard of it.

But even if they had, it wouldn’t have really mattered.

You see, my friends already knew this, especially Alucard, since he had killed me here before. But you couldn’t die at the Dueling Grounds. The whole point of the place – I know not when – was to establish a place to duel with a partner, to the death, to correct any grievances. But when one died, they reappeared back in their home, unharmed. This way the grievance could be resolved, with no lasting harm.

Thing is, I hadn’t met anyone else who knew of it, so I wasn’t entirely sure who it had been intended for. Now it was primarily the Minotaur’s secret hideout. I’m pretty sure he used it to lure heifers in for a little hanky-panky, but it wasn’t my place to judge.

Long story short, none of us could truly die here.

But that wasn’t why I had brought everyone here.

I had a much more important reason for doing so, and only the Minotaur knew.

I could see the thoughtful looks from my friends, thinking they understood my position. They had no idea. What I was about to do would light the world on fire with stories. If we survived.

After all, most parties here were magically gifted to some extent, and it was pretty darned easy to simply latch onto someone, hold them hostage, and then leave. Especially after things got hairy and someone ‘died.’ The others would immediately catch on that something was wrong. And my problem would be back to haunt me tomorrow, this time without the leverage I held tonight.

But if I won, I had one hell of a gift to offer up the owner of the land. An offer he couldn’t refuse. And giving a gift like that to King Midas was something that would repay me back exponentially over the years.

I just had to win.

So. A gamble with Silver Tongue, the legendary dealmaker of fairy tales.

And no one knew I knew. My smirk was enough to piss off anyone, but it seemed to have an extra-special curl to it tonight, because every bad guy in the clearing grew instantly angrier as they saw it. “Let us begin…”

“What’s he doing here?” Van asked casually, shooting wary glances at the ten-foot tall collection of shadow, sparks, and embers, vaguely depicting a humanoid shape. His look was perfect, but I knew better. These three clowns knew exactly who he was, they just didn’t know I knew. And they wanted the creature to think them aloof. Which played right into my story. Before I could speak, Silver Tongue answered.

“I’m here for an entirely separate purpose.” He managed to display a smile of fiery teeth, sparks gusting out with each breath like wind over a pile of blazing coals. “Loose lips,” The immortals displayed stony faces, attempting to conceal their anxiety. But Silver Tongue and I both recognized it. “Carry on, children,” he cooed, hungrily.

“This is going splendidly. I feel I should have introduced everyone. But maybe I should leave that to the host.” I motioned to Asterion. He shrugged, stepping up, shooting a questioning glance at me. I kept a straight face. Barely.

“Van Helsing, famed witch hunter and failed doctor.” Van frowned, eyes tightening as he opened his mouth to argue, but Asterion continued on. “Baba Yaga, known for leading children to her gingerbread house where she cooked them alive and ate them.” Baba actually sputtered, shooting murderous glances at Van and then myself. “The Huntress…” he turned to look at me, and finally shrugged. “No idea who she is… not important.” I shrugged back in agreement. The Huntress’ eyes hardened to flinty shards. Asterion continued on, announcing each of my friends and myself, exaggerating our stories and making us all sound incredibly important. His eyes finally rested on the shadow, who seemed to be quivering in trepidation, and anger at whatever game was being played.

I cleared my throat. “I’ll take care of this one. It’s why he’s here, anyway.” I turned to study each person in turn. The immortals were twitchy, full of spitfire and venom at the underhanded disrespect. Even though Asterion had said it, they all knew the words belonged to me. “Sucks when someone messes up your name, lies about your purpose, or misstates your deeds, doesn’t it?” They watched me, still furious, but now realizing there had been a purpose to the charade. Fear danced in their eyes as they no doubt considered what any of this had to do with their boss being here, no doubt wondering who had snitched on him. Or if I had been bluffing. I turned to the shadow. “This here is Silver Tongue, a crossroads demon…” The immortals flinched as one, but just barely. The Demon watched me, eyes narrowed, sensing something more coming. “But you may have heard of him by a different name…” I leaned forward, whispering softly. “He’s not very fond of it, though, I must warn you.”

“Stop. Now.” Silver Tongue warned, sparks puffing faster as he took a step towards me.

I grinned directly at him, leaning flamboyantly on my cane, and his body froze. Even the sparks and embers abruptly stopped. “Rumpelstiltskin, Rumpelstiltskin, Rumpelstiltskin…”

And I said it exactly right. His True Name. Three times. Just as the Ginger had relayed to me in the journal. It must have been spot on, because I heard Van say, “We’re all dead,” before the world turned blindingly insane.

Chapter 54

The shadow collapsed to the earth, a ring of scorched dirt blasting out to form a perfect circle around a writhing figure. The shadow rolled over us like a blanket of fog, dissipating as it advanced. I had a moment of true panic, fearing it was somehow lethal, but it rolled right over us to no ill effect, and was gone as I glanced behind us. I wasn’t sure if it had died on its own or if the ring of torches had somehow dispersed the last of it.

I turned back to find a man kneeling in the dirt, panting, fists squeezing the earth in pain. His hair was a wild tangle, but he wore sharp clothes, if a bit outdated, and his feet were covered in leather slippers of some sort. Okay, I’ll just say it outright. He looked like a character from a Disney movie or a fairy tale.

Because… he was.

The immortals were scanning our surroundings, taking note of every living person in the clearing, planning and plotting the number of bodies they would need to eradicate to make it out alive. But I watched as another thought crossed their faces. One of them was not making it out of here alive. Because one of them had obviously told me Rumpelstiltskin’s True Name.

At least, they thought one of them had. No one knew about the Ginger. I smiled as, one by one, they glanced my way, eyes both terrified, murderous, and… wary.

I was interrupted from my gloating by a dry, raspy, high-pitched laugh. I turned, pointing my cane into the earth to see the man slowly standing to his feet, head down, but a psychotic smirk splitting his face in two, like Heath Ledger’s Joker. He turned to look at me and I instinctively took a quick step back. Madness danced in those eyes. Sheer madness and lust for power. “You shouldn’t have done that here, boy. It was cleverly done. Arranged perfectly. But you never should have tried to say my Name to trap me. Especially in a place as… corporeal as this.”

I hesitated. What did that mean, and how was he standing? I had trapped him with his own Name. No creature could withstand that, not even an Angel. I instantly called out his name three more times, wondering if I had botched it somehow. He shivered theatrically, never dropping his smile.

“Oh, crap.”

“Indeed, boy. This isn’t the real world.” He stretched his arms above his head. He was a gangly man, although short, his arms and legs were disproportionate to his body size, and he had a long, skinny face. Gaunt. Skeletal. “Names don’t hold their true power here. You just managed to dispel my disguise… and upset me by telling everyone my name. Still, I had hoped that the Meddler would be here…” he murmured to himself. “No matter. Everyone here must now die.”

“Listen, er, Rumps, I think you might be skipping a step-” But no one listened.

Indie exploded in a whirlwind of power, blasting bar after bar of blinding white light, so bright it left purple flecks in my vision where the bars had briefly solidified. But none struck true. Rumps suddenly wasn’t there, but I could hear him laughing. “Grimm!” I bellowed, eyes frantically searching for Rumps. Indie’s unicorn galloped into the clearing from beyond the torches, feathered red and black mane flared out, the red eyes on the tips of the peacock-like feathers glowing like vibrant rubies. Fire limned its hooves, and it dipped its head between Indie’s legs, catapulting her onto his back. She didn’t even make a sound, eyes scanning the darkness, flickers of white lightning dancing wildly in her irises. She was in her element.

I called out to her. “Remember who your friends are,” I cautioned. She nodded slowly, a slight frown on her face. “Other than that, have fun.” I winked, slapping Grimm on the flanks. The unicorn roared in surprise, and I wisely jumped back. An arrow sailed right past my face. I spun, cane a blur as I drew on the dark presence inside, and caught two more in quick succession, knocking them away. The Huntress shrieked angrily, but Tory was suddenly there, slamming her fist into the Huntress’ face. The immortal went cartwheeling, caught off guard, and slammed into the bench Asterion had been working on. She climbed to her feet, blood dripping from the side of her face as she grinned hungrily at Tory.

“My precious, I’ve been waiting my whole life for you…”

Tory frowned. “If I had a nickel…”

“I can give you all the nickels you desire,” the Huntress swayed closer, trying to sound flirtatious, but Tory burst out laughing.

“You must not know what a nickel is,” she chuckled, shaking her head.

“I will find you the world’s most expensive nickel, and offer it as tribute to your beauty,” the Huntress protested, beseeching.

My eyes might have resembled saucers at that comment. The Huntress… had a crush on Tory? After having her ass handed to her in the cemetery? What kind of twisted logic…?

But Tory began to laugh even harder. The Tory I remembered from a year ago. It was nice to see. Maybe we had just gained an ally. Then the Huntress rushed at Tory, unleashing three arrows on the fly before catapulting herself off one of the torches, launching herself into the air to perform a flawless flip over Tory’s head as she readied to toss a dagger directly down on the love of her life.

Tory merely held up a hand, and the arrows stopped in midair. She did it so casually, I blinked in utter astonishment, and even the Huntress forgot about her daggers as she gasped in shock. Tory crouched and jumped, latching onto the woman’s leg. Then she slammed the Huntress down into the earth so hard that I heard the air leave her lungs in a loud puff. The lovesick pancake managed to roll clear, barely missing Tory’s knee as it hammered down into the dirt where the woman had been. She limped away, shaking her head, eyes terrified.

But I was suddenly distracted, diving for cover as the sound of automatic gunfire hammered into the clearing. Even the Huntress dove for safety, scrabbling for the opposite side of the clearing. Tory stayed kneeling and held up her hand again. Several stray bullets froze before her, falling harmlessly to the earth. I didn’t even have time to register the green flash in her eyes as I searched for the source of the shooting. I heard Grimm galloping around the clearing, questing out the source of the continued laughter still emitting from Rumps’ hateful mouth.

Chapter 55

I saw Ashley, naked and in human form, calmly unloading a full clip of ammunition at Van Helsing, who was standing there, mouth open, as the bullets hammered into him, shredding his clothes. The gun ran empty, and Van let out a laugh, plucking several flattened bullets from his chest, and even one from his forearm. I blinked. He really was bulletproof. Ashley scowled at him, and began to reload the rifle as her Alpha handed her another clip in silence.

“Can’t you see, little girl, it won’t do you any, Ah-” and she began pouring another cascade of bullets at him. I saw his face darken with impatience as the clip finally rang dry. He took an angry step closer, his clothes barely hanging on now, but physically he remained unharmed. “Listen up, you crazy-” but I lost track of his words as I glanced back at the werewolf with the assault rifle.

If I had been a teenaged boy at that moment, and she had been a commercial for the military… let’s just say that I wouldn’t be a wizard right now. Gunnar calmly handed her another clip, werewolf face smiling, and then he folded his arms as she clicked it into place and took aim.

“I’m talking to y-” and she was off again. This time, her aim tore into his shoes, his weapons, his belt, and I let out a laugh of understanding. She wasn’t trying to hurt him. She was trying to ruin his outfit and his weapons. She ran dry, and calmly handed the rifle back to Gunnar, who calmly slung it over his shoulder.

“Feel better, babe?” Gunnar asked in a tender voice, which was creepy since he had a wolf’s head at the moment.

“Much,” she grinned, arching up onto tiptoes to grab his snout for a light kiss.

Van was a tattered mess, and he was holding his pants up with one hand, while staring in horror down at his gun. His crossbow was a shattered ruin, and one of his knives – the only usable one – was bent into the shape of a boomerang. His eyes shone pure fury at Ashley as he realized what she had done. She blew him a kiss and then shifted into full wolf form, rolling onto her back playfully, pawing at the air.

Van’s face purpled, but it was kind of difficult to take his rage seriously while he was holding his pants up. His eyes danced to the torches, as if searching for an escape. Gunnar calmly stepped in his view, grinning a wolfish smile. And then the two tore off after him.

I spun, with a sickening feeling, realizing there was one more immortal I had forgotten about. I spotted Alucard lying on the ground, unmoving, and Baba attempting to flee into the ring of darkness, the Familiar at her back watching out for dangers. I smiled, wishing her the best of luck as I rushed to Alucard’s side. He wasn’t breathing, so I slapped his face.

His eyes shot open, and he tried to get up, but groaned. His eyes fixed on me. “Did you just slap me?”

“You weren’t breathing,” I muttered, checking that we were still relatively safe, but everyone seemed otherwise occupied. I turned back to him, checking for wounds.

“I’m a vampire, Nate. I don’t have to breathe…” he growled.

“I know,” I nodded, grinning.

“Bastard.”

“What happened?” I asked.

He let out a pained sigh. “I tried to take on the witch, but I’m weak. All this blood is bad stuff has caught up to me. I’m spent. No reserves.” I growled in understanding. This was my fault. It was ironic that I had been the one to preach ‘don’t drink living blood,’ and now I needed him at full strength. I should have thought of it sooner. Or encouraged him to stay home.

“Would it help if I gave you a bit of mine?” I asked, eyes scanning the battle. Van had abandoned the humility of holding up his pants, and was now running about stark naked, a blur of hair as the wolves pursued him. I shook my head, turning back to Alucard.

“No way, man. No idea what would happen with your freaky blood,” he smiled. “I’ll just sit back and let you guys handle it.” He noticed the naked Van Helsing and chuckled. “Looks like you’ve got things under control.” His eyes began to close with exhaustion.

“Okay, I’m going to-”

And a blanket of power abruptly smothered me. Thick, ropy vines of yellow energy, like tree sap stuck to my skin, latching me to the ground. The more I struggled, the harder it stuck, coming in contact with other parts of my body to trap me even further, like quick sand, or a spider’s web. I spotted Baba approaching on cautious feet, her Familiar plodding behind her menacingly, beady black eyes hungry.

“You,” I managed.

“I,” she replied drily. Her eyes darted about, then down at the vampire, which she summarily dismissed as no threat. Especially when the Familiar lurched to stand beside him, just in case. “Listen, Temple. I don’t know what crazy plan you had coming into this, but I think you can agree with me that it didn’t work. It didn’t work so well that you could call it a blazing failure.” Her eyes flicked to me as I continued to struggle. “But we don’t have to die here. Show me the way out and I will let you go to make your own decision on your next move.”

I opened my mouth to point her in the direction past the torches, but out of nowhere, a body suddenly slammed into her, knocking her right into her Familiar, and sending them both skidding to slam into another set of benches Asterion had been tinkering with.

What the hell was he building out here?

I glanced down to see that the projectile had been Tory. She groaned, eyes closed, and then she slumped down again. Right next to Alucard.

I began struggling with the sap, a horrifying idea suddenly beginning to grow in my gut. Then I watched as it became true. Alucard, eyes closed, sniffed the air as if smelling an enticing donut. With warm frosting, and fresh sprinkles.

And that donut was Tory.

He began to crawl over to her outstretched arm, and Tory began to stir, but not quickly enough. I frantically tugged at the sap, noticing Baba was also slowly climbing to her feet, clutching her head. The Familiar was stirring, looking to have cracked his beak, which just sucked for him.

I heard a soft snick, and flinched back to see Alucard’s fangs had snapped out, and he was leaning over Tory’s wrist, holding it down in a firm grip as she let out another soft moan. I shouted desperately, “No!”

But he didn’t hear me. Like a striking snake, he darted in to meet the tender flesh of her wrist with his fangs, and the sharp smell of copper filled the air, mixed with a woodland smell, equally as potent. For all of two seconds, I struggled, finally freeing an arm. Alucard drank. My free hand latched onto my cane, and before I could throw it at him there was a sudden explosion of green and yellow, and Alucard went flying.

Straight into the Familiar, knocking his stupid beak completely around at an unnatural angle and snapping off a good foot of its length. The Familiar crashed to the ground, and began to howl in agony. Baba stumbled over to his side, murmuring softly, soothingly to her pet, but the monster’s howls only grew louder, his chicken feet frantically kicking in the air as a vortex of purple light erupted from the damaged beak and up into the night. The monsters beyond the torches erupted in frightening screeches and howls of delight.

The sounds of battle temporarily halted as everyone realized we weren’t alone. Then the purple vortex flashed once, and a bar of sparkling black light bloomed straight up into the sky in the center of the vortex, fading to nothing a moment later.

And Baba’s shriek shattered my eardrums. The Familiar was now a rumpled mass of fabric, gone. I wondered what happened to a creature like that if it died here. I didn’t know if it was truly alive or just a construct. But she would find out in the morning. Talk about surprises. But I didn’t want to get her hopes up just in case different rules applied to creatures like that.

She collapsed, weeping. And then I noticed the figure standing a few feet away from her.

He was glowing. Sparkling even.

Alucard. And he looked completely unharmed, despite his vampire cannonball attempt.

I burst out laughing, unable to help myself. A sparkly vampire! And a werewolf on a hog. My life was officially a cliché.

Alucard’s eyes flashed from his hands to me, and he scowled. Then he noticed Baba, took two strides, and kicked her back into the bench, where she crumpled, motionless. The bench was at least a dozen feet away, and it didn’t even look like Alucard had tried.

His eyes shot to Tory, who was now climbing to her feet. Tory shook her head once, and as if connected, Alucard was suddenly supporting her, ignoring the space that had stood between them. One moment he was near the Familiar’s remains, the next he was holding Tory. If I could have moved, I would have taken a step back. Her eyes began to glow with green fire, as if fueled by Alucard’s touch. They were sparkling emeralds. Swaying trees in an evergreen forest during the summer. Alive. And entirely inhuman. Alucard’s glow was fading, but he stared at her in wonder. Complete adoration.

She nodded to him, glanced at the vines still subduing me, and then touched them with a finger. They recoiled from her touch, rapidly retreating into a single huddled mass at my feet, completely freeing me. I gripped my cane, not really sure what was going on between the two of them, but I knew one thing.

They weren’t the two I had brought into this mess.

I just hoped I hadn’t caused them lasting harm. It sure as hell didn’t look like it though.

Tory nodded at the huddled mass on the ground, and the quivering ball of power simply ceased to exist. Then she shot me a dazzling, feral smile, and strode away, back to the center of the clearing. Alucard followed without a glance in my direction, entranced with his new mistress. I don’t think he was mind-warped, just that he genuinely wanted to be as close to her as possible. I turned to find everyone staring at us.

Indie, astride Grimm, stared at Tory with fiery eyes of her own, flashes of light flickering hungrily like bolts of lightning. To her fiancé, it kind of looked a bit like jealousy. Only I can free my fiancé from golden vines of death, bitch. Or something like that.

True to my thoughts, Grimm was suddenly pounding earth towards Tory, pearlescent ridged horn of death aimed directly at her heart. Indie’s face was tight, as if she was battling internally with excitement and horror. Her Grimm power trying to fight for domination. But seeing the flickers of horror interspersed with the excitement gave me hope that she may win out.

Tory never stopped advancing.

In fact, she wasn’t even looking at the vehicle of her death racing towards her, despite the trail of fire Grimm was leaving in his wake. Even Ashley, Gunnar, and the naked Van stared in astonishment, no longer fighting.

The unicorn got within a few feet of Tory, and only then did she finally look up.

That’s it.

Just a look.

Grimm’s hooves dug into the earth, launching Indie into the air. Indie performed a flip, hands outstretched, and landed lightly beside me, glaring at Tory’s back. Grimm looked to be in pain from such an abrupt stop, but didn’t appear injured. In fact, he neighed lightly, nuzzling his nose into Tory’s outstretched fingertips. She caressed him one time as she continued on past him, and his whole body shuddered, mane snapping close to his body. He took a few restless stomps of his hooves, and began to turn, following Tory.

My jaw might have been on the ground. How faithful was that horse? First it had been mine, then Indie’s, and now it owed fealty to Tory?

The rest of the party in the clearing displayed similar looks of disbelief.

Indie grasped my hand possessively, not looking my way, and then began striding after Tory.

I was forced to follow or be forcibly drug behind my fiancé, like a reprimanded child.

Or a husband.

“Indie, look, we probably shouldn’t provoke her. I’m not really sure what’s going on, but-”

“Shut up, Nate. Let the women handle this.”

I clicked my mouth shut and followed like a good school boy. It was kind of…

Well, hot.

Chapter 56

Don’t take that the wrong way, but I was pretty used to fighting with some pretty heavy hitters, and my number one fear had been looking out for my friends. Of the three women that I cared for most – Tory, Indie, and Ashley – two had been pretty defenseless when it came to my enemies, which had always terrified me. They would be the best way to hurt me. Harm the innocent. I couldn’t watch out for them all the time. Sooner or later, one of them would be hurt.

Then, a few months ago, I had gotten everyone involved in a situation I was certain would get us all killed. Indie had died, Ashley had been turned into a werewolf against her will, and Tory had lost an arm. Not even considering Misha, who had sacrificed her life to save her daughters, and everyone else’s life. But Indie had come back as a Grimm, Ashley had survived her first shift into a werewolf, and Tory had temporarily melded with the sprite to regrow her arm.

And apparently, she had gone full-blown Fae on me. Or something more. Something new.

Indie was now as ruthless as any foe I had ever encountered, even if she didn’t have full grip on her power yet.

And Ashley was a hyper-violent, business-savvy werewolf chic.

My girls were all growed up. It almost brought a tear to my eye.

Because I knew I would never again survive a joke about Indie belonging in the kitchen.

Indie let go of my arm, took two quick steps closer to Tory, and grasped her shoulder.

“Indie,” I warned, stepping up beside her, gauging the level of danger from the unasked for physical contact. I had a perfect view of what happened next. Front row seat.

Tory stopped, slowly turned to face Indie, and the two locked eyes.

You could have heard a mouse hiccup. Even Rumps’ laughter was absent.

Indie began panting, rage dancing across her features, fingers flexing at her sides as if searching for a blade. Her spine was locked rigid, and her chest heaved in labored breaths, little twitches down her legs as if she was battling tackling Tory to the earth. Tory trailed a delicate fingertip along Indie’s jaw. I was sure I was witnessing a miracle. It was like witnessing the Dog Whisperer in action. Indie’s face continued grimacing and snarling, and Tory’s fingers gently traced past her jaw, along her neck, and down her shoulder, tapping lightly behind the shoulder blades as she circled my fiancé. Her eyes continued to blaze with green light. And she was humming softly in an alien tune.

Her feet made no sound, and as I looked down, I noticed tiny, almost unnoticeable sprouts of life trailing in her wake. Tiny leaves, like those little packets you buy to sprout dill weed in your kitchen. Tory continued on, continuing her gentle caress, lightly tapping several other seeming specific spots on Indie’s back as she came back around, mirroring what she had done to the other side, until she finally stood directly before Indie again, staring straight at her lips, where her fingers rested on Indie’s other cheek.

Indie’s shoulders were now slumped, and although she was breathing heavily still, it was nowhere near as wild as it had been a few moments before. Tory gently leaned in, withdrew her finger, and lightly kissed Indie just above the lips, where a man’s mustache would be.

I realized I had stopped breathing, and let it out in a soft, careful breath.

As Tory pulled away, I heard her murmur to Indie, “Peace, woman. Own your beasts.” Then she smiled. Indie’s face slackened suddenly as if doused with warm soothing water on a cool day, instantly washing away the stress she had bottled up for so long. Indie’s eyes closed, she took a deep breath, and opened them again.

Her face was entirely her own, but I still caught flickers of light in the depths of her irises.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Tory nodded, smiling. Grimm nickered. And we all turned to face Van and the Huntress.

“Hot damn!” Van exclaimed, clapping his hands together. His hands quickly covered his crotch as all eyes turned to him.

The Huntress was staring in lustful starvation at Tory, who didn’t seem to notice anyone in particular as she stared at everyone and no one, like a goddess come to dine with mortals.

“Enough of this,” Rumps’ voice broke the silence, and he appeared directly behind Van and the Huntress. We fanned out so that the three groups faced Rumps. Gunnar, Ashley, and Asterion. Van and the Huntress. And the rest with me. Well, Baba was still taking a nap in the back forty, but everyone else was accounted for.

“I have an offer for you, if you want to live,” he said flatly.

Something about the way he said it made me seriously consider agreeing. I knew that look, because it’s how I personally operated. Rumps and I were pretty similar in many ways – planning, scheming, and outmaneuvering our opponents. “I’m drinking buddies with Death, so I’m not too concerned with your threat,” I said, leaning pompously on my cane. “But you should know one thing. We mortals tell children fairy tales not to let them know that monsters exist. They already know that. We tell them fairy tales so they know that monsters can be killed,” I smiled wickedly. “Let’s hear you deal, monster…”

Chapter 57

His eyes glittered like fresh unearthed diamonds as he spoke. “I want Jacob Grimm’s amulet in exchange for your lives.” His eyes danced over the assorted groups in the clearing. “Well, the Maker and the Grimm, to be precise.”

“A trade…”

But Indie piped up before I could continue. “Give Nate the book, and I’ll give you my amulet.”

I began to protest, but Rumps shouted, “Deal!”

“No!” I roared, suddenly terrified that Indie had made a deal with Silver Tongue.

The little man snickered. “Too late, little Maker. You can have the book, for all the good it will do you now…”

And I began to get a sneaking suspicion. Why had he phrased it that way? But another thought overrode that, and I felt mildly relieved. Rumps had accepted her deal. The amulet for the book, which meant her soul was not at stake. Just the amulet. Which was a plus.

I glanced down at my black veins. Unlike me.

Then I saw the skin of her arm begin to reveal the telltale mark of black blood, and groaned. No soul, but still some kind of compact. She glanced down, noticing my stare, and then caught sight of my own arm for the first time. Her eyes stretched in confusion, and I shrugged.

My hand casually went to my pocket as I turned back to Rumps, concealing my movement. And I made a quick adjustment to the item I had tucked away.

“It’s legitimate and binding,” Rumps declared, noticing the veins. As if in answer, he brandished a book from his coat. Just a plain, but old, leather-bound book. He began tapping it against his palm, suddenly appearing eager, arrogant, and needing to brag. “It’s ironic, seeing as the Grimm was the only one here to touch it.”

And my heart skipped a beat. I turned to her slowly, but she seemed just as surprised as me. She took a step back, shaking her head, eyes wild as she caught the look of betrayal on my face. “No, no, no…” she began, hands rising to her temples as I caught a flash of pain on her features.

“Blackouts, loss of memory, headaches. Telltale mental manipulation symptoms, eh, Maker? Then, enter three immortals, all conveniently seeking the same book, plaguing you and your friends at every turn. But they weren’t really plaguing you, Maker. They were following her,” he pointed a long finger at Indie, who was still shaking her head, muttering under her breath. “Just as I had planned, her love-struck fiancé comes by, and makes a deal with me to get rid of her affliction,” he mocked, chuckling. “Because he bought the sob story of a homeless man who bought drinks for the lowlifes at his shop. Textbook.”

“That… that would take weeks to plan… no, months…” I said in amazement. But it explained everything. The pain any time I had pressed her on the book and her memory of that night at the auction. Her blackouts. Her body literally eating itself alive, knowing something was wrong and not being able to discern exactly what it was.

Rumps was nodding. “Yes… You see, you killed my men…” his eyes trailed off. “Well, not my men, per se, but they did exist thanks to me, and that devil of a man who locked them away for a few hundred years,” he growled. “So, I was forced to act. Temporarily so excited about their abrupt return to properly plan. In fact, we led them straight to your door. Gave them resources. But… we underestimated you and your ragtag group of friends. Even had your own people rallying against you for a brief moment.”

I was shaking my head. No way. Rumps had been behind the Grimms pinpointing me? But it made so much sense. They had been so organized. So methodical. But who was this we?

“But I’m just the salesman. The face. Not really a fighter. Just a General. Moving pawns. Setting up dominos. Planning. Scheming…” he gloated. “It takes a higher mind than a brute to plan such things. You wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure. Didn’t seem like you did all that well, considering…” I managed a fake smile, hiding my amazement at the story that was unfolding.

He shrugged. “True. You did well. Which didn’t make my masters happy, let me tell you.”

“And who is that, exactly? The Big Bad Wolf? Goldilocks?” I teased.

Then again, it was possible.

His lunatic eyes assessed me. “No, I don’t think I will be sharing that one. Just out of spite.” He smiled. “Now, let’s consummate our deal, child.”

I held up a hand, stalling Indie, who was already lifting the amulet over her head. She paused, tears streaming down her face in shame. I could tell they were genuine. She had no idea the part she had played in all of this. “Why do you want that specific amulet so badly? Is it because it’s a seeder?”

He nodded casually. “Need to rebuild our soldiers, after all. And bring a few home. They’ve had a long tour in that wretched place your ancestor sent them to. But I’m having the last laugh now. We are having the last laugh. Because I always play the long game. And I always win.”

I wanted to stall him further, but there was nothing I could do. Indie had freely entered into this bargain. If I tried to stop her, I… simply wouldn’t be able to. Whether a frozen turkey struck me down from the sky, or if I simply found myself bound by bars of power, unable to move. Either way, I wouldn’t be able to physically or magically stop this deal from going down.

Still, my mind worked furiously for something, anything, I could do. After all, my friends would all die if I did nothing… wait. No, they wouldn’t. We were at the Dueling Grounds.

You couldn’t die here.

I began to smile. “Don’t worry, I know a bit about long cons too.”

He sighed, shaking his head sadly as he motioned for Indie to approach. Her feet remained planted, but she did extend the amulet in a shaking fist, unable to prevent herself from finalizing her deal with Silver Tongue. “You must be referring to this place. How mortal wounds are ineffectual here.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, how very clever of you, Temple. Just genius.” I blinked. Damn it. “Let me tell you a bit about long cons. When I rebuild my army, your little Grimm here will be unable to refuse the call to her people. I will convert hundreds, thousands, of Grimms.” He pointed a finger at Indie. “And since you killed my captains, perhaps I’ll just appoint her as my new Lieutenant. She simply won’t be able to refuse. On this I swear. Part and parcel with the amulets, you see.” I began to shake my head, but Indie was simply staring at him in horror. “Then, when I so desire, I will unleash my horde of Grimms upon your fair city, and watch as they raze it to the foundations. They will destroy everything you have fought so hard to protect. So, in a way, I’m glad you chose this place for our first official meet. I would have hated to have to kill you for real. Where’s the fun in that? When I could instead injure you with a thousand cuts, and slowly pour salt on your wounds. Watching you twitch as each day goes by, your fiancé terrorizing your city, murdering your friends, saving you for last. And knowing that you could never bring yourself to harm the one who holds your heart. Even if your city must burn. The Grimms are coming, the Grimms are coming!” he roared. He turned his back, staring into the faces of all those in the clearing. “It might just be my greatest con ever.” He turned back to me. “But I have things to do, and you have limited time to cherish. Let us finish here. I won’t come for her for some time, giving you time to cherish each other. Making the ending even sweeter than an infant’s marrow.”

I shivered, and noticed that Asterion was panting furiously through his nostrils. He had laid low during the fight. Probably some Buddhist thing. Indie threw the amulet at Rumpelstiltskin. “Take it, you son of a bitch,” she cursed. He caught it with a nod of appreciation, inspecting it curiously.

“You’ve made it even stronger…” he murmured. Then his eyes flashed to her face. “Who’s a good Lieutenant?” he asked, as if speaking to a particularly cute puppy. “You are,” he cooed.

Storm clouds were practically blasting in her eyes. “Show me what I have bought, demon.”

He chuckled, tossing the book to her. She caught it, glanced at it, and then handed it to me, fiery eyes on Rumps. I glanced down, and blinked. “No…”

Rumps folded over in laughter. “Long con, remember?” I tore my eyes from the cover, pocketing the book as I glared at him, ready to throw down with him right here, right now, regardless of if it would be permanent or not. It would at least make me feel better. “What you’re holding is the last copy – in this world at least – of an introduction to harnessing the Maker power. The ABC’s, if you will.”

Everyone made sounds of disbelief. Even the immortals. Which meant they truly had no idea what they had been after. The looks on their faces showed that they had been told it was something else entirely, and they didn’t look pleased at the discovery. Long con, alright. Not only had he distracted me with immortal thugs, but the seemingly boring book had been something I had searched everywhere for, and the thugs pursuing me for it hadn’t even known what it was. With this book, I might have been able to prevent all this from happening.

Indie was openly sobbing now. And she had unknowingly hidden it away the entire time.

Chapter 58

Rumps was facing the immortals, business concluded with me, standing directly in the center of us. “Sorry about the misdirection. Well, actually I’m not. But you did well, dogs.”

Van’s face could have broken rocks, and the Huntress looked ready to bury a dagger in his eye, consequences be damned. The hand in my pocket felt another item I had stowed inside. Just in case I needed to bargain.

I opened my mouth to do just that, and suddenly had a thought.

I motioned to catch Indie’s attention, noticing Rumps was facing away. I could see the amulet securely tucked in his back pocket, no risk of it falling out, but a bit of loose chain dangled freely.

Indie glanced over, face stricken, no doubt fearful of my disappointment. But instead she saw the Grimm amulet I had stored in my pocket suddenly sailing at her face. She caught it, blinked, and looked back up to see an anxious, devious look on my face as I pointed at her, myself, and Asterion in rapid succession. Then I tapped my wrist rapidly, indicating a watch, and drew a finger across my throat. She blinked in confusion, and I noticed that several people were staring at my frantic motion. Even Rumps seemed to take notice, and began to turn.

And time stopped. Completely. Everyone stood completely frozen. Even Rumps.

Well, except for Indie, Asterion, and I.

“Okay, what the hell is-”

“Stop!” I shouted. Indie’s mouth clicked shut. “Everyone mark your place. Exactly. To the millimeter.” Asterion was turning from person to person, then to us, mouth opening and closing in confusion, but he did glance at the ground, make a mark with his hoof, and then look back up at me. Indie did the same before staring at me and wiping her nose. “Indie, can you hold this for a few minutes?”

She frowned thoughtfully, and then her sadness morphed into a slow grin. “Yes! I can! No strain, Nate.” Her eyes grew thoughtful. “Whatever Tory did removed my block. I finally feel in control!” Her mood was infectious, but we had things to do, and quickly. I didn’t trust her newfound ability for control just yet.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do…”

They listened in rapt attention, faces beginning to stretch into wild grins. “When?” Asterion growled hungrily.

“After I hit my knees. When I reference cow-tipping,” I replied.

Indie looked nervous. “What if he planned for this like he’s planned for everything else?”

I shrugged. “No way to tell, but my guess is that it’s too stupidly reckless to predict.”

Asterion grunted agreement.

I scowled at him. “Any better ideas?” He finally shook his head. “Just aim true.” As an afterthought, I added, “I wouldn’t be against a little blood to make it feel real. I don’t know exactly what he’s capable of, so better make sure you hurt him enough to distract him.” I remembered his faith. “Is that a problem? Because I don’t really have another plan…”

“For what he’s done? I’ll make an exception.”

“Okay. Back to positions. Let me do my part. Hold it for a few seconds longer?” I asked Indie. She smiled, nodding with an overly bored sigh.

“Take your time, hot stuff.”

They retreated back to their places. I walked over to Rumps and took Indie’s amulet from his back pocket. A second one came out also, snagged on the chain. It was Wilhelm’s. My grin stretched wider. I pocketed Wilhelm’s amulet without letting anyone know, and walked back to Indie. I placed her original amulet in her palm, and only after it was touching her skin did I take off the spare amulet I had given her.

“Nate,” she said, as I began to turn away. I looked back, suddenly alarmed, fearing that the time manipulation had failed. But no one moved. Her eyes were resolute. “What if he takes the necklace again?” I finally shrugged, having no answer. She took a deep breath, slapped it into her forearm, and with a humorless grin, stared down at it intently. I gasped as the metal began to steam, but also because Indie was so easily using magic – no doubt drawn from her proximity to me – to brand herself with the amulet.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

But I dared not stop her. The amulet had to touch her skin. At least, I thought it did. Neither of us truly knew much about the magic involved, but it was a safe bet, seeing as how it had been designed as an amulet, where at least some piece of the necklace was always touching skin, whether it was the chain or the pendant itself.

She gritted her teeth, making no sound, and then the amulet suddenly iced over, a thin layer of frost covering the metal in a brief expulsion of steam. After another second, she peeled it away, bits of flesh tearing away as they stuck to the frozen metal.

She glanced down at the amulet and smiled, nodding weakly. Then she showed it to me. Where the stones had been were now just empty sockets. My eyes tracked to her wounded forearm to find the stones embedded into her very flesh, skin still sizzling and an angry red. My gaze slowly rose to meet her eyes, and although she looked to be in agony, she also looked extremely powerful, confident…

And damn right pleased with herself. She began to place the amulet around her neck, but I quickly whipped out Wilhelm’s amulet, stones still intact, and gave it to her. “I don’t think I could handle doing that again right now,” she whispered.

I shook my head. “No, it’s just a better fake. It still has stones. If he notices that the amulet around your neck has no stones, he might get suspicious.” She nodded, trading amulets with me and placing it around her neck.

I shuffled over to Rumps, placed the spare amulet back in his pocket, I hoped, in the same way it had been, and retreated to my spot.

“Ready?” I called out. Grunts of affirmation answered me.

“Lights, camera, action.”

And time lurched back to normal. Rumps completed his turn to see what had caused everyone to look our way, and I collapsed to my knees in supplication. “Mercy,” I whispered.

Rumps scowled, scrutinizing Indie and I, then my other friends warily.

“Please don’t take her from me. You have what you want. Just let us have our time…” I begged. His calculating gaze slowly morphed into a grin from hell itself as he approached, a dozen steps. Then six steps. I stared down at the ground in shame, hands planted in the dirt before me. No one noticed Asterion softly drifting along the torches, or if they did, they didn’t care. They were too busy watching me beg for my life.

Rumpelstiltskin’s slippered feet finally entered my field of vision, a foot away.

“Say it again,” Rumps’ voice dripped with anticipation.

I did.

He let out a deep sigh. “Mercy is not in my vocabulary, worm.”

I lifted my eyes to meet his, allowing a flash of anger to show. “And what if I don’t want her to become a monster?” I asked. Asterion continued to move, but he wasn’t quite in place yet.

“I think we’re past that point, boy. You should have thought about that before either of you made a deal.” I hung my head in despair, nodding. “Yeah. You’re right. I guess this is my burden to bear now.” I turned to Indie. “Sorry, Toots. Can’t let you join the Dark Side.” And I unleashed a blinding bar of light directly at her chest. Her arms formed an X before her breasts as if to defend herself, but it was no use against my Maker’s fire.

My lance of fire struck her forearms and a sound like a struck bell washed over us. The smell of sizzling flesh and burnt hair hung heavily in the air, and a thin cloud of smoke was all that remained where Indie had stood.

I heard several startled gasps, but Rumps was the loudest. “You madman, you just killed your woman!”

“Fiancé, as a matter of fact.”

“You have many more friends to kill here. And we all know one cannot truly die here. I will find her and take her from you. You think this will tip the scales?”

“That’s funny.”

“What’s funny?”

“You said tip.” I began to laugh.

“So?” He snarled.

“As in…” and I took a deep breath, “Tip This!”

Through the sound of my shout, Rumps never heard the hammering of seven hundred pounds racing across two cloven feet as the Minotaur closed the distance. At the last second, Rumps began to turn, but it was too late.

“MOOOOOOOO!”

I saw one horn pierce through Rumps’ abdomen, and then the little shit went flying over my head, screaming in pain and surprise. But I wasn’t finished yet. Rumps had a rough few minutes ahead of him. “Alley-oop!” I shouted as loud as I possibly could.

Chapter 59

I bolted to my feet as a sheet of fire erupted around us, a wall of impenetrable flame about five-feet-high that would at least prevent the immortals running up to us. Indie was suddenly beside me. “I think it worked. Fire okay?” she practically danced on her toes.

“Perfect,” I nodded, pointing at Rumps as he sailed towards the torches.

But before he could cross the threshold into darkness, a giant hand made entirely of desiccated branches the size of a motorcycle caught him in a tight fist. Rumps squealed in terror as a giant face emerged from the darkness. The face of a frowning scarecrow, torn and ravaged burlap skin etched with bloodstains, and blazing eyes of sunset fire. The fist lifted him high overhead, and the scarecrow emitted a rasping cackle of madness. A voice like snakes in a pile of leaves rumbled from the closed burlap frown. “I am Famine, and I am starving…”

Then the Horseman reared back as if to bite off Rumps’ head, but stopped a foot away, flaming eyes dancing as Rumps elicited another terrified shriek. “But how I do like to play with my food…”

And he threw Rumps straight across the entire clearing where a second fist of green, rotting flesh – just as large as the first – caught him. A wet, phlegmy laughter chuckled and wheezed through sickly windpipes as a zombified face from The Walking Dead appeared out of the darkness. As he spoke, bits of mucus, spittle, and bloody flesh sprayed Rumps’ horror-stricken face. “I am Pestilence, but even you are too rotten for my appetites, Silver Tongue.”

And Rumps was thrown again. This time ninety-degrees to the right, as my drinking buddies had boxed the Dueling Grounds in a perfect square. A fist of pure flame caught him by the foot, hanging him upside down, and a red and white Samurai mask of liquid fire emerged from the black depths beyond the torches. The face sprayed Rumps in a shower of sparks as it roared loud enough to make me stiffen, lighting the little bastard’s clothes on fire in places. “War!” he bellowed, before flinging Rumps to the opposite side of the clearing, directly over our heads.

“Motherfuc…” Van trailed off, crossing his chest out of habit.

A skeletal hand beneath a purple, tattered robe caught Rumpelstiltskin this time. The fist was the size of a Prius, and it began to squeeze. Wings of bone and shadow at least a dozen feet wide each flared out, rattling like a diamondback rattlesnake. Only then did an elongated skull slowly appear out of the darkness, unable to smile, but still appearing pleased. “Death has come for thee…” And the Horseman slammed the body down into the ground so hard that the earth crunched at the impact, and a wet noise was heard by all. Rumps didn’t move.

I snapped my fingers, and Indie dropped the wall of fire. I slowly turned to face the immortals, feeling my friends’ eyes watching me. I ignored them, pinning my gaze on Van and the Huntress, who looked ready to bolt, but realizing that the darkness beyond the torches was no longer safe.

As if to emphasize this, each of the Horsemen began chuckling to themselves in a dark chorus. I held up my hands. “Any questions?”

Achilles exited the darkness beyond the torches, and four figures flanked him in flowing hooded robes, more human-sized this time. Fiery eyes of various colors flickered from the darkness of their cowls, but no features were visible. But the neighing of horses carried from the black depths behind them, and four sets of identical pinpoints of fire appeared, mirroring their Riders. Achilles glanced from side to side at the two pairs of Horsemen, then he looked directly at Van. “I think the boy made his point, but me and that little shite need to have a few words…”

Van and the Huntress collapsed to their knees. Before anything else could happen, they each flinched in pain, clutching their arms. As did Indie, Alucard, and finally me. I stared down in fear only to find the black veins fading away. A moment later they were gone, as was the pain. Van held his up in the light, and all saw the unmarked skin. The Huntress was staring down at her own in awe.

The clearing was silent for a few moments, and then they slowly lifted their gazes to mine. I had no idea why our curses had been lifted, but presumed it to be a result of Rumps’ death.

“You’re welcome.” I turned my back on them, and approached Indie to give her a hug. “Asterion, please let the dogs out now. Horsemen, play nice…” And I kissed Indie smack on the lips, forgetting the world for a few blissful moments.

She pulled back, breathless and smiling. “How?”

“You couldn’t act, and none of the others who made a deal with him could act.” I winked. “But thanks to the location being outside of reality, I knew a few people who could.”

“But why did he spill the beans about everything?”

I pulled the Binder from my pocket. The artifact Pandora told me about. “It makes people speak the truth.” I shrugged with a grin.

She shook her head in amazement as Asterion led the immortals out of the clearing. He was dragging Baba by a leg, and tossed her out, dusting his hands off before letting out a snort.

Achilles looked only marginally annoyed that he hadn’t gotten to lay the smack down on Van, but what pride was there in fighting a naked man? But I knew Van had a long talk coming.

“What’s up with all the woodwork, Asterion?” I asked idly, holding Indie’s hand tightly.

He chuckled, pointing at the Horsemen. “Getting ready for opening night! They offered to help.” The Horsemen didn’t speak, but Achilles eyes practically danced with excitement. What had I done?

I heard a groan of pure agony, and flinched, glancing back at Rumpelstiltskin’s crumpled, mangled form. I turned to Death in stunned silence. Death merely shrugged, purple robes not moving at all, despite his head motion. “He’s not dead yet. Too easy. Thought maybe you could find a use for him.”

A new voice entered the clearing from the darkness. “I heard a story once about the little shit turning straw into gold,” Midas was grinning like an excited child. “And I do love my gold…”

Incredulous laughs met his comment, both disgusted and amused.

Midas knelt over him, touched his forearm, and then froze. “Never mind. You need to get rid of him now. He’s one of them.”

Asterion nodded, but I had no idea what they were talking about. “One of who?”

His cold eyes met mine, and they were very alarmed. “The Syndicate.” Achilles even paused.

Then Rumps began to laugh. “I… told you this wasn’t over, Temple,” and he began to fade from existence.

Tory was there in a heartbeat, latching onto his leg, green eyes flaring like fire, and whatever she did was holding him in place. Not allowing him to die or disappear. “Nate, do something. Now!” She gasped, arms shaking as black tendrils of power began whipping about the air in a frenzy, trying to bat Tory’s arms away.

Rumps was darkness. Tainted. Disease. Infection. Corruption. Then a thought hit me.

But I knew Mr. Clean…

Before anyone could stop me, or realize what I was doing, I jumped on to Rumps, straddling him in a wrestling pin. Listen, there’s a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can’t get away. But I probably looked like I was doing the former. Rumps screamed like a wild animal. “I have a buddy who is rather lonely. I think you guys will get along splendidly.” He continued screaming, threatening, flaring about wildly, not hearing my words. I closed my eyes, and imagined the White Room in perfect detail. It snapped into focus almost instantly.

I heard Death shout, “Nate, NO!” but it was too late.

I wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or not, how easily I had taken us to the White Room. If it was simply because I had been talking to him recently, or if there was some type of conduit between us now that I had visited him twice already. The world snapped into focus as I opened my eyes to the blinding White Room.

The Ginger stared down at us in astonishment. Rumps was no longer screaming, but his squinted eyes darted to his surroundings with a look of horror. “No, no, no. What have you done?”

He tried to flee, but chains of white suddenly lashed into existence, pinning him to the white fur carpet, and stretching tight so that Rumps lay prostrate on the ground, spread-eagled, drooling and babbling in wild-eyed shock. I slowly lifted my eyes to find the Ginger staring at me. He had a rakish bowler hat perched on his head, and he was sipping tea from a massive cup.

He was easily nine feet tall, and as thick as the Minotaur. His eyes danced merrily, flicking to the fur rug beneath my feet. Grey stains marked what I had touched, but black stains like oil marked anything Rumps had touched. I was suddenly terrified that I had just thrown myself down the garbage chute with Rumps, and that the Ginger was none too pleased with the sudden mess I had brought him.

“I, uh… I brought you a toy.” I offered sheepishly. The Ginger nodded, a smile beginning to form on the edge of his lips behind the wiry red beard fanning all the way down to his chest. I managed to hide my sigh of relief, glad that I didn’t suddenly have matching friendship bracelets with Rumpelstiltskin. “Well, you were right. Thanks for the Name.”

His face was a mask of stone as he stared down at me. I began to fidget. Then I spotted a single tear forming in his right eye. It fell slowly, rolling down his cheek like a dislodged boulder, and landing in his beard, watering it for future growth. He cleared his throat.

“Th…” he cleared it more forcefully, blinking a few times to discard a few more tears. “Thank you… for showing me… kindness.”

I nodded. “Least I could do after your generous help.” He merely watched me, a sad but happy smile on his face. “I couldn’t afford him tainting my world.”

“No, can’t have that.” He chuckled lightly, taking a sip of his tea. His hand rattled as he replaced the cup. “It’s a good thing you have a… friend who likes to clean…” Then he belted out a laugh that startled me, and he pounded a meaty hammer-sized fist into his knee. “Clean!” he roared in giant bursts of laughter, tears flowing freely now.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah,” I forced a smile. “My thoughts exactly.”

“You should probably leave.” He said, gathering his composure. “It’s not… safe for you here. Not yet. I’m not… stable, as the Queen would say.”

Rather than pushing him on that, I nodded. “Thank you for your hospitality…” It was pretty obvious that I was searching for a name.

“Are you sure you want that information, Maker?” he leaned forward, eagerly.

I suddenly realized that I didn’t. I really didn’t. I began to shake my head.

“No let, obligation, or lien. Freely given. As to a… friend.”

Well, I wasn’t about to deny him the privilege of hearing his name. We were apparently pals now. I finally nodded politely.

He leaned back, took a deep breath. And touched his hat, grinning like a mad man.

I stared, confused. He tapped it again, eyes beginning to dance wildly, maniacally.

I stifled a gasp, and murmured, “Hat… Hatter. The m-” I slammed my mouth shut with a click.

He nodded. “It’s alright. The Mad Hatter. Nice to see you again, my friend.” He snapped his fingers, and the world winked out of existence, and a screaming sound filled my ears. Rumpelstiltskin. I opened my eyes, panting hoarsely, to find my friends circling me at the Dueling Grounds.

I was back.

Questions erupted from all sides, but I simply lay there, a faint dazed smile on my face.

Chapter 60

I sat in an antique leather chair. No wheels. No frills. Just an old office chair from several hundred years ago. Dust covered the room. It had taken me a good five minutes to clear enough off the desk and chair to even consider sitting down.

I waited, the book from Rumpelstiltskin resting on the desk before me. The cat purred in my lap as I stroked its fur. It didn’t seem the tiniest bit concerned at my display of magic only moments before. The room was filled to bursting with bric-a-brac. An old globe, a compass, a sextant, an abacus, books by the hundreds, several half-empty crystal decanters of now dried amber liquid, and candles. Dozens of candles. Skulls and random artifacts rested on shelves, obscure paintings and newspaper clippings dotted the wall. All were covered with a thick patina of dust. It was as bizarre a collection as one would expect to find at 221b Baker Street.

The cat meowed.

And then I heard it.

Footsteps.

As I waited, I briefly inspected the four quadrants I had created in the room, feeling the various stages of life associated with each. Then the door opened, and two figures stood in the shadows, frozen at the sight of me. Here. In this sanctuary.

I had only expected one of them.

A familiar face stepped closer, studying me cautiously. Then at the lines of power crossing the room. He lifted a hand, and it crossed one of the metaphysical boundaries I had created, instantly bathing his hand in a light pattering of snow. He twisted it about, snowflakes falling from nowhere to land on his warm palm. A light dusting carpeted the wooden floor.

The other three quadrants displayed the other three seasons. One section as warm and vibrant as summer, revealed one of the long dead plants now abundantly thriving with full blooming flowers the like I had never seen before. The man’s eyes tracked to the other two quadrants in quick succession, noticing a few dead leaves scraping about on the floor in an endless circle as if caught in a mild breeze, and the other was explained most prominently by a series of sprouts emerging from the depths of one of the skulls on the desk. I sat between Spring and Autumn, half my body in each quadrant.

“I see you’ve been reading,” the man murmured, eyes settling on the book on the desk.

I nodded. The cat lurched from my lap to stretch on the table, tail flicking to and fro as it meowed at the man, looking for a back scratch. The man slowly approached, cautious to not appear threatening, and obliged the feline.

He dipped his head at the cat. “Is this how you discovered me?” I nodded with a slow smile.

“Led me directly to your hidey hole. But I didn’t connect the dots until I remembered the illusion spell you two used with Van Helsing.”

Ichabod nodded, a small smile of pride. “They’re handy,” he shrugged. He pointed idly at my cane, leaning against the desk. “Clever. Did you figure it out on your own?” I shook my head. His face was stoic, harsh, entirely different than when I had last seen him with a collar around his throat. He nodded, muttering, “Sprites,” under his breath, but it sounded appreciative, as if he was familiar with them.

But then, he would be familiar with them. “It helps with the voice… or whatever it is. Still, it’s always by my side now, whether I want it to be or not. Unless you can tell me how to actually fix the problem rather than carrying a shiny band aid everywhere.”

He stroked his chin. “Perhaps. In time. I’m surprised your parents never told you that your gift was… tainted.”

I stared. “They were murdered before we could talk about it…”

He nodded in sympathy. “Listen-”

“Is she going to come inside, or just stand there?” I asked frostily, recognizing the scent. “I would like to know exactly what is going on.”

The man sighed, and Indie entered the room, looking ashamed. “I’m sorry, Nate.”

I leaned forward, face hard. “For what, exactly, my beloved?”

Her face broke, but I saw the brief flashes of lightning in her eyes. She was mad. Not at me, but at the situation. “I need… training.”

“Seems you had a pretty good handle on things at the Dueling Grounds.”

The man spoke up. “She can now prevent herself from losing control. Bravo.” He mocked. Indie nodded to herself. “She needs proper training if she is to protect herself. And who better to teach her than me?”

I studied him. “About that…” His eyes danced eagerly. “Do I call you the Meddler, like Rumpelstiltskin did? I know it was you swiping up all the books I intended to buy over the past few weeks. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Meddler indeed.”

He folded his arms. “All to lead you to the black book…” he said softly. “Among other things.” My gaze tightened a bit, wondering what he was referring to so cryptically.

But I nodded, hiding my thoughts. “Gee, thanks,” I muttered, deciding to continue my previous line of questioning. Might as well get it over with… “Or do I call you Ichabod, or Maker, or…” I leaned back, folding my own arms. “…Gramps.”

Indie gasped.

Ichabod only smiled, and nodded, implying that all were true.

“I saw the Mausoleum. Imagine my surprise when a name popped out on the family tree. And the gem was sparkling. A little high up on the tree’s roots to make any sense.” He grinned, but seemed surprised at how I had discovered it, apparently not thinking about the family tree. Maybe he didn’t know of it. I hadn’t traced everything back to find out who built it and when, and how Ichabod’s lineage tied into it.

But the crazy thing was this. I was standing face to face with the man – the Maker – that had banished the Grimms hundreds of years ago. A veritable legend. He had sacrificed his life to take them out. All of them. The last time I had seen him, Ichabod had been wearing a collar and had been under their thrall. I had released him, but had always thought he had been just another Grimm. Then my trip to the Mausoleum had proven otherwise. Seeing his name in my family tree had startled me to the core. Having Ichabod under the Grimm’s control also answered the question about how Jacob had known all the secrets of my home. Ichabod had been forced to share the information. If I hadn’t gone to the Mausoleum, I never would have discovered any of this. Ichabod interrupted my thoughts.

“She’s not the only one who needs training… Nate.” The last sounded proud, but painful. I nodded.

“Tell me about it.”

He pointed at the book. “That will help. A bit. Study it. Hopefully, I’ll be finished with Indie by then.”

“Who said you can take her?” I asked coldly.

Ichabod shrugged, and turned to Indie. “I want to go, Nate. I’m no good without his help,” she whispered.

Ichabod turned back to me. “This is temporary. Trust me, I want a student like I want a hot iron in my ass.” I let out a surprised laugh, and looked up to see a resemblance of my father’s grin on Ichabod’s face. A very distant resemblance, but it was there. “The Syndicate will not rest long until retaliating. I knew he would come out of the woodwork sooner or later. But I had to lure him. I’ve been following the trails of embers and sparks ever since you released me from the collar.” He shivered. “But at least with their Silver Tongue out of the picture, you won’t have such a plot to untangle. It will most likely resemble an overwhelming army of monsters and assassins tearing into your city.”

I grunted. “Something to look forward to…” he grinned like a shark. “I don’t get why our markings vanished though. Rumps never actually died, so why were we all released from our deals with him?”

“He feeds on chaos. The Riders were able to actually harm him, which meant that he needed to reserve his energy to heal, which meant he had to release the bonds holding you.” I slowly nodded. It could be true, but it only introduced more questions in my mind. And judging by the look on his face, more questions were not welcome at the moment, so I let it go. He continued on after a long pause.

“It gets better. You are only just now seeing what everyone knew several hundred years ago. You have a bit of catching up to do. You might want to start doing some digging. The Armory, and several of your friends would be a good place to start until I return. Wish me luck in training your Grimm, because if they get their hands on her untrained, they will meld her into a monster the likes of which the world has never seen.” He shook his head, eyes locked onto the stones in her arm, skin still red and angry. “Blending three amulets like that,” he shook his head. “Branding them into your very flesh,” he growled at Indie. “Madness,” he muttered in frustration.

“I think we’ve done pretty well for ourselves, so far.”

He let out a derisive laugh, but didn’t respond. He flung out a hand, and one of the bookshelves suddenly swung open to reveal a previously concealed room. I gasped at the heaps of gems, organized by color, lying on the floor and in barrels. I turned wild eyes to Ichabod who merely shrugged.

“Looks impressive, but you will need it. To build your army. Buy favor. Allies. Protection.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a decent amount of money,” I managed, shaking my head in wonder.

“Pfft. You made a few million off fleecing the immortals. But you lost your billion-dollar company, after I was forced to help Jacob take it from you,” He snarled, eyes furious.

I leaned back in my chair. “I’ve got a few side projects going on. A certain German company I’m almost ready to buy the last controlling shares of,” I replied casually.

Ichabod slowly lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Surely that’s not possible.”

I shrugged. “I’ve got a gift for finance. And they overlooked a few things when the company went under. My estate still held ownership in a significant number of patents, and they’ve been paying me large amounts of money to continue leasing them out…” Ichabod’s eyes were incredulous. “I’m thinking about calling the new company Grimmtech.” I winked at Indie, and she burst out laughing.

Ichabod looked optimistic. “Perhaps there is hope for you yet… Grandson.”

I shivered, but extended a hand in peace. “Let’s stick with Nate and Ich.” Indie began laughing all over again, but Ichabod finally shook my hand in a cool firm grip.

“I have one last detail to attend to, and then we will be off. Hopefully not for long.” I nodded, shooting a glance at Indie. Then, she ducked her head and followed him out the door. The cat, sensing my mood, jumped into my lap and began to purr.

“What about Sir Muffle Paws?”

There was a pause. “Keep him for me. A promise that I’ll return soon,” her voice called out from the hall. Then they were gone.

“Filthy feline,” I muttered, stroking the purring beast. He nudged my face affectionately. It was some time before I realized I was thrusting my chin out at him just as affectionately. “Stupid cat,” I smiled. I sat there for a long time, brooding. Then I decided it was time for me to meet up with Achilles to complete my promise.

Chapter 61

I sat on a wooden bench, bathed in the fiery sunset of the Dueling Grounds. A few dozen people meandered around the edges of the clearing, careful not to leave the safety of the torches. Bets were being placed. I ignored it as I finished the design on Ashley’s wrist. Gunnar leaned over my shoulder eagerly watching. I had duplicated the design of his, but my first idea had been a pawprint.

“And look like every other sorority girl in St. Louis? No thanks,” Ashley had argued. So, now they had matching tattoos. I didn’t tell them that it bound both of them to my family. I figured I deserved to get something out of this. But looking into Gunnar’s eye, I knew he was thinking about it. I had described the runes to him in detail, after all. So, he knew, and would explain it to Ashley later.

As I finished the Rune, I leaned back, releasing her fingers. A look of relief washed over her. “I feel it already! A sense of… peace.”

“So, once a month I don’t have to worry about you turning into a raving psychopath?” Gunnar teased with a grin.

She slowly turned to look up at him. “Let’s hope that once a month I continue turning into a raving psychopath, because if that stops, we likely have an entirely different problem to deal with.”

Gunnar blinked a few times, and then his eye widened as he realized she was referring to having a child. The look of happiness and horror on his face was something to behold. “Right,” he stammered. “I don’t think we’re ready for that yet. Unless…”

Ashley laughed, patting him on the arm. “Easy there, Alpha. Just teasing you. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

My eyes roved the assembled warriors. I spotted the Huntress stalking through the crowd, no doubt looking for her new love, Tory. She wasn’t here. I’d had a long talk with the three immortals after our fight. We had let bygones be bygones, and me somehow relieving them of their debt with Rumpelstiltskin had allowed them to overlook the epic beat down we had shown them. Baba’s Familiar had even survived. I didn’t ask for details.

I saw a hooded figure speaking with Asterion and I blinked. Was that an elephant trunk sticking out of the hood? Ganesh? He was huge. Easily as large as Asterion. I shook my head in disbelief. That would be fun to see.

Then I saw Eae eagerly guiding Pestilence my way. The Horseman had a thoughtful frown on his face, but seemed to be enabling whatever had Eae so excited. I nodded at him as he sat beside me, taking Ashley’s place as her and Gunnar left to mingle. “Thanks for your help,” I told him.

He nodded back. “Sure, but that’s not why I’m here. Eae here tells me I should ask you what’s with the cane. Surely you’re young enough to walk without a cane.”

I kept my face straight, glancing down at it seriously. “I’m just not able to part with it.”

Pestilence stared at me for a moment, and Eae burst out laughing. Then it began to dawn on Pestilence’s face, and a disbelieving smile split his features. “Cane…and able…” he murmured. “Kane and Abel!” I nodded and he burst out laughing.

A heavy hand latched onto my shoulder from behind. “Does that joke amuse you, Maker?”

I shrugged off the hand instinctively. “Easy, bub. Just a joke.” I wasn’t very concerned about a fight here. After all, I was the star of the event. I had come up with the idea. And we were at the Dueling Grounds, so I couldn’t die anyway.

I slowly turned to look at the man behind me and saw only a deep cowl. Eae and Pestilence were suddenly silent. “Yeah, poor taste, Nate,” Eae and Pestilence murmured.

I turned to them in disbelief. “But you-”

“I think you and I are going to need to join the roster to resolve this disagreement,” the man behind me growled.

“Who the hell are you anyway? The wraith look from The Lord of the Rings is kind of outdated, in case no one told you. It was just a joke.”

The man drew back his hood to reveal a tan, young face. Ageless, but eyes with knowledge from the beginning of time itself. “I am called Kane.”

Oh.

Well… shit.

I began to stammer an apology when Asterion’s voice called out, booming across all those assembled.

“It is with great honor and appreciation that I welcome all to my humble abode. Now, as many of you have been informed, our very own Master Temple came up with a brilliant idea – in collaboration with King Midas, myself, and Achilles over final details – to establish a… club.” The crowd began to cheer my name, low at first, but growing in volume. Many warriors filled the edges of the ring. Myrmidons, Eae, the Horsemen, a few wolves, and several others I didn’t know or recognize. Asterion held up a hand for silence, and the noise died down. “But as we all know, our existence has kept many of us from… flexing our muscles, so to speak. In the real world,” he smiled hungrily, “but not here.” He explained the unique properties of the Dueling Grounds, that one could not truly die here, and that being out of the pocket of reality, all were free to act without consequence. And of course, the cost of admission going forward. And the schedule for future fights. Likely once a month unless demand encouraged more events.

“To steal a line from a great movie, the first rule about Fight Club…” and the crowd erupted in shouts of eager anticipation and bloodlust, some even shouting out the rest of the movie quote. I shook my head, and felt Kane’s hand pat my back thankfully.

“Thanks, Maker.”

I shivered.

“For our opening match, I would like to thank our first challenger…” the crowd hushed, and Asterion let the pressure build for a few tense moments. “Nate Temple!”

I blinked. “WHAT?” But my voice was drowned out by the crazed outburst of cheers.

I found Kane forcibly shoving me out of my seat and down to the ring, with a dozen hands assisting him, so that it was either be thrown into the ring like a spoiled child, or maintain some dignity and do it myself. I saw Achilles lingering on the other side of the ring, grinning. “Great,” I muttered to myself stepping into the ring. Give a guy a fight club and he still wants to clobber you for breaking a freaking door.

I saw another figure standing beside Achilles and my jaw dropped. It was Indie, and she looked sad, guilty, heartbroken. But not at what was about to happen. It was as if we had an entire private conversation in that look. About her leaving. She promised she would be back. And I told her I loved her. The smile that crept over her face made it all worth it. She mouthed, someday soon, my love…

“And his challenger…” The crowd began patting Achilles on the back, but he was no longer smiling. In fact, he looked to be shooting me a warning look, but not about himself. “Ichabod Temple!”

The crowd silenced instantly, people staring about in confusion as a tall figure entered the ring from behind Indie. Everyone had known I was the last Temple. But now they were discovering otherwise. My opponent’s face was cold, passionless. Indie dropped her head sadly, stepping out of his way.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, unleashing whips of fire and ice to either side of me as rage settled over my shoulders. I felt the cool cane at my hip, but decided against drawing it. The whips must have licked a few feet beside me because shouts of alarm and pain jumped out and I found myself suddenly surrounded by no one. I shifted the whips to growing balls of fire, attached to each other by cords of fire like two wads of sticky gum. I did this without realizing it, but hid my surprise well.

“It takes balls to come against me.” I glanced down. “Great big glowing balls. Bring it on, old man,” I snarled.

Even though we were too far apart to hear each other, I heard his response clearly.

“Glad to, child.”

“FIGHT!” Asterion bellowed and the crowd went wild as we raced towards each other, magic flying everywhere like the Apocalypse had just been set off.

And I quickly realized just how much I had left to learn about being a Maker…

* * *

Nate Temple will return in March 2017…

Enjoy this book? You can make a big difference…

Reviews are the most powerful tools in my arsenal when it comes to getting attention for my books. Much as I’d like to, I don't have the financial muscle of a New York publisher. I can’t take out full page ads in the newspaper or put posters on the subway.

(Not yet, anyway).

But I do have something much more powerful and effective than that, and it’s something that those publishers would kill to get their hands on.

A committed and loyal bunch of readers.

Honest reviews of my books help bring them to the attention of other readers.

If you’ve enjoyed this book, I would be very grateful if you could spend just five minutes leaving a review (it can be as short as you like) on this book’s Amazon page. You can jump right to the page by clicking below.

Review SILVER TONGUE

Thank you very much in advance.

Get your FREE Books!

The family classic, Grimm's Fairy Tales, is not the collection of bedtime stories Nate Temple thought it was, but actually the keys to a veritable prison housing the most dangerous bloodthirsty hit men of the supernatural community. This reckless wizard must find a way to lock up the prison for good before his city becomes a buffet table for the Brothers Grimm…

Discover Nate’s origin story, and get a sneak peek into the events that led up to GRIMM, Book 3 in the Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series, coming August 2016. To get your copy of FAIRY TALE and a free copy of OBSIDIAN SON (share it with a friend!), and lots more exclusive content, all for FREE, you just need to tell me where to send them. Click here to get your copies today!

About Shayne

Shayne is a man of mystery and power, whose power is exceeded only by his mystery. In other words, a storyteller.

Shayne currently writes the Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series, which features a foul-mouthed young wizard with a chip on his shoulder attempting to protect St. Louis from the various nasties we all know and fear from our childhood bedtime stories. Nate’s been known to suckerpunch an Angel, cowtip the Minotaur, and steal Death’s horse in order to prove his point. His utter disregard for consequences and self-preservation will have you laughing and cringing on the edge of your seat.

Shayne holds two high-ranking black belts, and enjoys conversing about anything Marvel, Magical, or Mythological. You might find him wiring in a coffee shop near you, cackling madly into his computer screen while pounding shots of espresso. He is currently hard at work on the fifth installment of the Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series coming March 2017, and hopes that you enjoyed reading Nate’s Story as much as he enjoyed writing it.

Connect with Shayne online:

ShayneSilvers.com

Goodreads

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Instagram

LinkedIn

Email Me

Don't forget! If you enjoyed what you've read, please head HERE to leave me a review on Amazon. Thanks!

Published by Argento Publishing

Copyright © Argento Publishing, 2016

Cover design: Darja and Kim, DerangedDoctorDesign.com

E-Book formatting: Shayne Silvers

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Dedication

To the heroes fatally flawed, reminding readers that we are all phoenixes just waiting for a fire to forge us anew…

Acknowledgments

Many were instrumental in bringing this story to life. Too many to name, but I will give it the ol’ college try. First, I would like to thank my beta-readers, TEAM TEMPLE, those individuals who spent hours of their time to read, and re-read, and re-re-read Nate’s story. You’re steadfast support, critiques, and encouragement make all the sleepless nights worth it. Not to mention that you’re dark, twisted, cunning sense of humor makes me feel right at home… I also couldn’t have done this on time without Carol T’s incredible editing services.

Darja and Kim with Deranged Doctor Design for the gloriously epic artwork. If I’m being honest, their company name sold me. Check them out at www.derangeddoctordesign.com

I would also like to thank you, the reader. I hope you enjoyed reading SILVER TONGUE as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sign up HERE for your FREE copy of FAIRY TALE, and to receive updates on future release dates. Book 5 will be released in March of 2017…

And last, but definitely not least, I thank my wife, Olesya Silvers. Without your support, none of this would have been possible. Transcript that birthed Obsidian Son:

Shayne: I’ve thought about writing an urban fantasy novel, but don’t know where I should start. How would I make it unique?

Olesya: How about Black-Ops Wizards?

Shayne: Damn. Why don’t you write it?

Olesya: That’s what I have you for…

Get your FREE Books!

The family classic, Grimm's Fairy Tales, is not the collection of bedtime stories Nate Temple thought it was, but actually the keys to a veritable prison housing the most dangerous bloodthirsty hit men of the supernatural community. This reckless wizard must find a way to lock up the prison for good before his city becomes a buffet table for the Brothers Grimm…

Discover Nate’s origin story, and get a sneak peek into the events that lead up to GRIMM, Book 3 in the Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series. To get your copy of FAIRY TALE and a free copy of OBSIDIAN SON (share with a friend!), and lots more exclusive content, all for FREE, you just need to tell me where to send them. Click here to sign up today!

Table of Contents

SILVER TONGUE

Get your FREE Books!

Nate Temple Series

SILVER TONGUE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Enjoy this book? You can make a big difference…

Get your FREE Books!

About Shayne

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Get your FREE Books!