Those Wonderful Toys: Preternatural Chronicles Book 7 (The Preternatural Chronicles)

by Hunter Blain

  “But if we can keep John out of trouble, I plan on finding a mate and settling down somewhere in nature.”

  “You would be welcomed in Faerie, of course,” Taylor added.

  The two continued walking at a leisurely pace, and Depweg backtracked the conversation in an attempt to locate where they had left off. Within a few seconds, he remembered.

  “So the centaurs found a rogue portal on their lands?”

  “Yes,” Taylor nodded, eager to change the subject from one that brought great pain to his heart. “As is protocol, the chief destroyed it, and then reported it directly to me.”

  “Worried about the Shadow Court coming back?”

  “I am not so much concerned with the pieces on the board as I am with the man manipulating them to his will.”

  “Samael,” Depweg exhaled, letting his eyes go unfocused.

  “Precisely. I have to be ever vigilant in the prevention of the Lord of Hell gaining a foothold within the Seelie Court.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why would someone build a portal without your knowledge?” Depweg asked, shifting his gaze back to the king of Faerie.

  “There are a few reasons I can think of. The top would of course be the fallen angel attempting to position troops in my lands or set traps. He could also send an assassin through to kill me, leaving the balance of power teetering toward Winter, which would have catastrophic consequences for Midworld.” He inhaled deeply in an effort to banish the feeling of unease. “After that, the possibility that some of the citizens are participating in forbidden activities comes to mind.”

  “What sort of activities?”

  “The bartering of illegal potions to those on Midworld.”

  “Love potions?” Depweg asked, intrigued.

  “There is a catalog of forbidden magic that all citizens are made aware of. Love potions are on that list, yes. But also, anything that could be considered perverse to nature or which manipulates the will of man is also forbidden.” Taylor waved his hand in a circle. “You know, raising the dead or altering mortal politics.”

  “Makes sense,” Depweg admitted before a nagging feeling swelled up. “How’s...”

  “John?” Taylor finished when Depweg faltered.

  “Yeah,” he sighed deeply as if it both pained and relieved him to ask about his friend.

  “The three of them are reportedly doing quite well. If I am not mistaken, they only have one more stronghold to topple in Germany.”

  One corner of Depweg’s lips curved upward in pride that his best friend was making such significant headway against Satan’s armies on Earth.

  “Though what they will face once the trio arrives will be insurmountable.”

  The ease with which Taylor spoke the words gave Depweg pause, as if he had simply told him what they were having for dinner instead of saying his brother was facing an impossible challenge.

  “What do you mean?” Depweg asked a tad harsher than he had meant to.

  “I was awaiting more information after the preliminary reports, but we picked up interesting magical signatures on Midworld.”

  “Interesting how?”

  “I have dispatched someone of utmost proficiency in these matters to better identify the anomaly.”

  “Taylor...what anomaly?”

  “The Aztec god, Tezcatlipoca, has been murdered. This is in line with the alarming number of other pantheon members’ disappearances, which is leaving behind a vacuum of power.”

  “What, like a turf war between rival gangs? When one is taken out, the others scramble to seize control?”

  “No. I am referring to power in the literal sense.”

  After spending the last two years with Taylor, Depweg had a decent understanding of how to manage conversations with his friend.

  “Please, go on.”

  “When mortals pray to their deities, it gives them power. At the time of man’s dawn, gods would fight one another using their followers as pawns. It was unheard of for them to directly attack one another.”

  “And now the gods aren’t there to receive the power of faith from their worshippers?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Is that a problem?” Depweg asked as his mind formulated the next thought that he knew to be important. “I mean, if the power that once belonged to literal gods doesn’t have an outlet, where does it go?”

  “Very good, Jonathan. That is precisely what is troubling me. There should be an unstable pool of energy floating in the ether that could cause havoc on Midworld.”

  “Like what?”

  “Tectonic shifts in plates resulting in widespread earthquakes, tsunamis, or even volcanic eruptions. And right now, there is a dangerous buildup of pressure under North America.”

  “You’re talking about Yellowstone? I saw on YouTube that it is registered as a supervolcano and could wipe out up to half of the population of the United States while simultaneously putting the rest of the world into an ice age.”

  “Correct. Once again, you surprise me with your awareness, Jonathan.”

  “I always thought it was just another conspiracy theory,” Depweg said, shaking his head, “but you are saying that the excess energy from the vacant pantheons could be used to destroy Earth?”

  “Once again, I am awaiting a cogent report to be drafted, but you have just stated my concerns on the matter. What I do know is that the energy is missing, and we don’t know where it has gone.”

  “But we can guess.”

  Taylor didn’t respond, which was all the acknowledgment that Depweg needed.

  “What are we going to do about it?” the aggressive, militaristic Depweg asked with a determined scowl, letting his arms drop while shifting on his feet.

  “As I said,” Taylor started calmly, “we will wait for more information before we decide on a course of action.”

  “You mean hurry up and wait,” Depweg clarified in a statement rather than a question.

  Taylor grinned in the way a parent smiled at their child when they didn’t understand why they couldn’t have a soda so close to bedtime. Though he was considerably more mature than the vampire, Taylor knew Depweg to be a man of action.

  Placing a guiding hand on Depweg’s upper back, Taylor ushered them back toward the castle as he pulled out a sealed envelope seemingly from out of nowhere and said, “Before I forget, John instructed me to give you this letter just before he left.”

  “That was two years ago,” Depweg said flatly, stopping in place.

  Taylor turned to regard him with a knowing smile.

  “He said I would know when it was time to give it to you. And here we are.”

  Depweg stared at Taylor for a few awkward moments before shaking his head and snatching the letter from the elf’s hand.

  “I will leave you to it,” Taylor informed him before continuing his walk toward the castle.

  Depweg nervously stared down at the letter, almost laughing at John’s terrible cursive handwriting.

  At that moment, he felt vulnerable with all the passersby walking up and down the street, and Depweg made his way to the provided privacy of the castle.

  6

  John - France

  As the last of the equipment was packed up, Hayley did a once over to make sure we hadn’t forgotten anything at the rental house.

  “Who leaves wet towels on the ground?!” I heard her angrily call out from inside the house.

  “Well, would you look at the time?” I told Ludvig as he closed the SUV’s tailgate. “I’ll meet you guys in Germany.”

  Ludvig nodded once before walking to the driver’s side and opening the door. Instead of climbing in, he turned and leaned against the frame while crossing his arms and grinning at me.

  “What?” I asked. When he didn’t answer, I blew out air in a “pfft” before bringing my left arm to my chest.

  Using my phone, I located my home—which I had pinned—and brought my finger to hover over the teleport button.

  “Wait right th
ere!” Hayley barked with a red face, holding the wet towel and damp robe in either hand. “I told you not to leave your wet crap on the ground! I’m not your friggin’ maid!”

  “Make sure you bring the robe!” I called out as I pressed the button...and a two-minute counter popped up. “Lilith damn it,” I mouthed, preparing for the verbal lashing Hayley was going to give me about proper bathroom etiquette.

  “Uh-huh. Thought you could run, didn’t ya. Know what that’s called, princess? That right there’s called Karma with a capital K.” As she stomped toward me, the wet towel was thrown through the air, only to disintegrate midflight.

  Letting Mjolnir vanish, I smirked at Hayley and said, “I’ll let Locke know we’ll have an unexpected charge on the account.”

  “Actually,” Hayley began, her face going from one of fury to eerie calm, “we won’t.”

  “How’s that now?”

  “That was your ‘special’ towel,” she said with sarcastic air quotes.

  Looking at the black ashes as they drifted to the ground, I stuck my hand out and caught one.

  “Aw man...that was made special for me.”

  “Oh, boo-hoo! My special towel,” Hayley mocked, slowly spinning in place and theatrically rubbing invisible tears away with her free hand.

  There was a chuckle from behind me, and I turned to see Ludvig covering his mouth with his fist. I scowled at him.

  “What? She did warn you.”

  “I thought it belonged to the freaking homeowners or whatever!” I cried out, throwing my hands up and letting the little black piece of ash fall away.

  “Well, they weren’t, dipshit,” Hayley retorted. “And you know what? If you don’t want to listen...” She pulled out her wand, which had begun to glow, and pointed it at my comfy robe.

  “Don’t...you...dare...”

  The roiling colors changed to red—the element of fire—and a ball of energy collected at the tip of the wand.

  Blurring forward, I snatched the robe from the warden’s grip and proceeded to run up the street and then back again, letting the robe flap like a flag in a hurricane.

  “There!” I barked out in subdued defiance, like a kid showing his mother he had reluctantly cleaned his room after being threatened to have his juice box taken away. Opening the back door, I tossed in the completely dry robe and slammed the SUV shut again.

  “Lost your belt,” Hayley said with a wry grin.

  “Huh? Belt?” Then I looked up the road and saw the cloth belt that allowed the robe to be tied closed snaking through the air halfway down the block. “Lilith damn it.”

  I blurred up the road, grabbed the belt tightly in my fists before it could touch the dirty ground, and ran back to the SUV. Once again, I opened the back door, reached in, and stuffed the rogue piece of cloth into one of the robe’s big pockets.

  Closing the SUV for the last damn time, I looked at the warden who seemed extremely satisfied with herself.

  I shifted my stance, pointed a finger at her, and kept opening and closing my mouth while trying to figure out something to say. Only the sounds of “hmph,” “pff,” and “reh” came out.

  “Good talk,” Hayley mocked as she turned to enter the house.

  “Dude,” Ludvig called out from behind, “let it go. You lost fair and square.”

  “Rah!” I cried out as I looked down at my watch to see the last of the timer disappear.

  I slammed on the hologram button—which was sort of like angrily hanging up on a cell phone versus a rotary phone which really gave the receiver a clang when you slammed it down—and was transported to my mansion.

  My eyes immediately adjusted to the darkness of a time zone several hours behind that of France. Looking down, I saw it was just after 4:00 a.m. Thank Lilith my phone auto-adjusted and I didn’t have to do simple math in my head.

  The air was cool but humid, suggesting that a light rain had fallen sometime in the past few hours.

  I stepped off the platform made specifically for teleporting, almost like a helicopter pad, and was all of a sudden grateful we had thought of doing so. Well, I say we, but I really meant Locke. The thought of shifting right on top of the henchman gave me shudders.

  A part of me wondered what would happen if I teleported using Collin’s device with someone standing on my destination spot. Question for later.

  I walked the short distance down the path created by large, flat river rocks to step onto the paved area that surrounded the Vegas-sized oval swimming pool. At the bottom was the silhouette of a certain beanie-wearing bearded guy who was rumored to be super sexy, whoever he was. It was just too bad that anyone flying overhead wouldn’t be able to see the beard and beanie face, as the entire property had a top-notch spell protecting it.

  SAC Baker had made it where no one would need to stumble upon the property from any of the various government departments he had influence over, which were basically all of them. Heck, he’d even hidden it so we didn’t have to file taxes, considering we were technically on government land anyway. Sam Houston National Forest was big enough where we could remain off the radar, even with our couple hundred acres.

  Locke had whipped up some nifty spells to disguise the entirety of the property while laying down wards which strongly suggested to any mortals who happened upon them that they had forgotten something very important back the way they’d come. Once clear, they would carry on with their normal days, not realizing the turn around. If I recall correctly, I do believe Val has a similar, if not identical, ward on his saloon.

  In the last couple of years, Locke had grown in his abilities as a wizard, impressing even Hayley whenever I told her of his progress. Though Ludvig and Hayley hadn’t been to the mansion yet, I tried to visit at least once a week or whenever I was bored, mostly because I missed Tiny Tim. And because...mansion.

  I walked past Locke’s meditation chamber made of soundproof glass with a wooden skeleton frame. There wasn’t even an AC attached because the wiz-master had figured out how to control air temperature using his magic. But once inside, it was completely silent and allowed for a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. In the center was something like a yoga mat with a pillow atop it.

  Continuing toward my castle mansion, because it resembled a real freaking castle, I looked to my right and saw the outdoor seating area. It was a small section about the size of my old living room, complete with a roof and recessed lighting. On one edge was a wall with a built-in fireplace and a paper-thin TV hanging above it. Seats which once again resembled my old living room were placed all around a center coffee table.

  A light flashed on through the kitchen’s huge warded bulletproof windows overlooking the back of the property. I saw a sleepy Locke shuffling toward a fancy-looking coffee machine. Normally, he enjoyed the expresso monstrosity that had a golden eagle on top of it, but at just after 4:00 in the morning, he was opting for something just strong enough to barely wake him up.

  Walking to the seamless glass door that led to the kitchen, I fumbled in search of the hidden sensor which illuminated as my fingers came within reach.

  Locke glanced with tired, half-open eyes as the door silently hissed open as my home recognized its master and let me inside.

  “What’s up!” I called out energetically as I stepped into the kitchen with a beaming smile. As intended, a bark came from somewhere in the house, followed by the adorable pitter-patter of paws on fancy tile.

  “Uhn,” Locke answered, giving me the slightest upturn of his head while the air began to fill with the aroma of coffee. Knowing Locke, it was the expensive, all organic kind which was probably shipped directly from the fields in Colombia.

  He wore a thin, red silk robe that stood in contrast to his black sweats and T-shirt. Red fluffy house shoes in the shape of comically big animal paws adorned his feet.

  Locke rested one hand on the black countertop that appeared to be made from complete slabs of polished onyx which had been sealed. Silver, gray, and white veins ran throughout, gi
ving the shiny black stone a degree of depth.

  The tile that ran the full spread of the first floor was made of hematite, which was a stone comprised of iron oxide, the purpose of which was to help protect the underground portion from divination or attack in much the same way my Fortress of Solitaire had been. When I had asked Locke about how it would fare any different than the regular iron that had been used at the old underground lair, he mentioned that it was a naturally occurring earth stone that wouldn’t stand out, unlike the refined cheap stuff I had used before.

  Tiny Tim came romping into view, his shadowy reflection bouncing from the nearly mirrored finish of the dark stone floor. I bent down and scooped up the little fella, bringing him to my chest as I stood again.

  Tilting my head, I allowed a blitzkrieg of puppy kisses to befall the exposed skin of my face as a tiny butt wagged hard enough that I had to secure my grip on the wiggling kiss monster.

  “Uh-oh! It’s the kiss vampire!” I called out with playful wide eyes as I brought Tim closer up to my face. Tiny Tim wiggled even more, trying to give me a tongue-lashing in a defensive maneuver. “Hisssss!” I dramatically called out before opening my mouth wide and making like I was going to bite his neck in the traditional vampire sense. Instead, I moved my lips to his neck and began a steady machine-gun burst of tiny kisses.

  Not to be defeated, Tim fought back and attacked my other cheek with his ferocious tongue. Over and over again he struck, leaving behind a trail of carnage that some might mistake as puppy drool.

  Locke, unamused in his exhaustion, reached up to the black cabinets near his head and lightly pressed one of the bottom corners. In response, the cabinet door smoothly opened to reveal a treasure trove of elegant-looking cups, all the same color as the kitchen.

  “Hayley is totally going to comment about this kitchen clearly belonging to dudes.”

  “Black’s my favorite color,” Locke said just above a whisper as he pulled out a small coffee cup, paused to look at me, replaced the cup, and instead decided on pulling out a much larger one. Pressing a section of the cabinet, the door shut silently.