“Remember, eventually we all end up killing that which we love most.”
And then my heart had a seizure, my good vibes electrocuted by the defibrillator of doom—Pandora.
“Not this girl,” Callie said firmly.
“So, you are no longer here to murder Hope?” Pandora asked, sounding disappointed. “That’s unfortunate.”
I blinked. Who in the hell’s side was Pandora on?
“I’ve already told you I’ve learned to not put too much faith into words,” Callie muttered. “Gods cast riddles like men throw dice—to gamble, to cheat, and to play games with human lives. I’m no gambler.”
The mystery male made an approving sound, but Pandora and Callie were quiet for a few moments, likely eyeing each other warily.
Then Pandora gasped, as if coming to some sudden realization. “You read the Omegabet…” she breathed, sounding stunned. “Oh, dear.”
“Just a little…” Callie admitted sheepishly.
I frowned. What the hell was the Omegabet?
“And they thought I was dangerous,” Pandora finally murmured. “Wordplay is not inherently wicked, and it is not only used to gamble, cheat, or play games. Sometimes it is the safest—and only—way to share secret knowledge, requiring the student to earn the right to the lesson. To the Seeing.” She seemed to place special emphasis on that last word, as if making sure I overheard her, but she continued talking before I could give it much consideration. “Much as a sword can murder or absolve, grant or take power, justify or decapitate. Words are weapons, child. Much sharper than any blade or magic.” She paused, sounding as if she was purposely trying to enunciate her next point. “Sometimes words mean exactly what they say. Even if you do not yet have the capacity to realize it.”
Silence stretched for a few moments. “I mean Nate no harm whatsoever. In fact, I would rather the world burn than raise my hand against him.”
Atta’ girl, I thought, smiling faintly.
“Oh, child,” Pandora said sadly. “You will raise your hand against him. Never promise what you cannot do. I already warned you that mankind always ends up killing what they love most in life. You will find Nate at home, but he is lonely.”
I almost bolted to my feet, panicking. What the fuck was she doing?
“Why is Chateau Falco empty?” Callie asked, sounding concerned.
“Chateau Falco will never be empty, my sweet. Nate is home, with friends, but all alone. He’s stuck in a dream, searching for a nightmare, crying as he laughs.”
My scalp tingled, realizing how close she was to telling the truth, even if Callie didn’t catch it. “What are you talking about, Pandora? I really need to make sure he’s okay,” Callie demanded.
“I just told you he is not okay,” Pandora snapped. “He struggles to find the end of the story. Only you can give that to him.”
“I need to see him,” Callie said sternly, and it wasn’t remotely a question.
Silence answered her. I heard a door open, and I frowned, wondering if they had left. Then I heard it close, followed by the sound of knuckles knocking on the wood. The door opened again, and I heard whistling gusts of wind pouring into the hallway, along with the familiar scent of Fae snowflakes—spicy cinnamon and fresh-cut cucumbers.
“There you go,” Pandora said. “I’ll leave it open for when you’re ready to leave. If you decide you want to leave.” She giggled.
I was going to kill her. First, talking about me being insane, and then trying to set us up for a little sexy time. I had a god to kill.
I heard footsteps approaching, and immediately jumped to my feet, backing away. “Remember,” Pandora called out, sounding much closer. “Blades cut both ways, sweetie. Sometimes what you hear isn’t what you hear. What you think isn’t what you think. Killing is often just a balance. Wordplay, right?”
Then she began singing to herself as she skipped closer to the corner where I’d been hiding. “Bah, bah, black sheep have you any wool? Yes, sir, yes sir, three bags full. One for the Master…” she trailed off suggestively, and I felt my cheeks heat up, knowing she was probably giving Callie a significant leer over my familial title. Then she was skipping again, continuing her song. “One for the dame, one for the little boy who lives down the lane…”
Pandora let out one last giggle before skipping around the corner and coming into view. She saw me, smiled brightly, and continued skipping right on past me, clutching that strange strap of leather she’d been carrying around. It looked like a limp sword sheath.
I blinked, remembering she had mentioned Excalibur to Callie.
“That’s your cue,” she whispered on her way by, and I realized I didn’t have time to question her.
I considered her song thoughtfully, knowing that Pandora rarely did anything without a purpose. But for the life of me, I couldn’t pick up on any subtle meanings behind the lyrics. Her emphasis on Master reminded me of Odin’s random interest in my familial title when we’d spoken back in Niflheim. I knew that the word dame had two definitions. The most popular was an old crone, but another was the female equivalent of a knight…
I heard Callie’s voice, but I was too far away to make anything out.
I did hear a heart-stopping, feral yowl, though, making me doubt Callie’s friend had been human at all.
I spun around to find Pandora smirking at me. “Your landlord is a big fucking lion named Last Breath,” she said dryly. “Have fun.”
I cursed, and then closed my eyes, trying to regain my composure. Hearing Callie speak with heartfelt emotion behind her words was already a vast improvement over the last time I had seen her—walking out of that silver door. Back then, she’d been cold, heartless, and utterly unsympathetic.
Although I was glad to see she was past all of that, it didn’t make my current situation any easier.
If this was the old Callie, then I needed to be very convincing in my effort to turn her away. Which meant I needed that cold, Fae side of me. The one who didn’t waste much time on feelings. I needed to keep Callie away—and that meant I needed to be heartless.
Especially if she was so concerned for my well-being. To save her from danger, I needed to be a raging dick.
Anything less would likely sweep her into my battle with Mordred and Thor—putting her in very real danger. I took a deep breath, and then willed myself back to my mountain in Fae, committing myself to pissing off the girl who I so desperately wanted to see naked.
It was ingenious plans like that, when said out loud, that made lesser men turn away from careers in professional wizardry. But wizards were made of heartier stock.
A wizard’s life was tough, but awesome. Most of the naked people we saw were trying their best to kill us. But…
We still got to see naked people.
It was one of those glass-half-full or glass-half-empty personality questions. So, unless you wanted a career as a wizard…
Don’t piss off the people you want to see naked. Start there.
After all, wisdom was learning from other’s mistakes…
Chapter 34
I stepped onto my mountain to find that it had transformed into an insane orgy of war fueled by the sultry battle cries of Katy Perry, because Alice had successfully turned on the bluetooth speaker outside our igloo. Thank the gods for solar powered chargers.
Dozens of snowmen filled the area. They consisted of three spheres—one each for the head, the body, and the base—and as soon as they saw me appear out of thin air, they decided that they each personally wanted to kill me. They began zipping across the clearing in zig-zagging motions, scooting across the snow like they were imitating the Silver Surfer.
Then, they began earnestly trying to kill me. Grimm raced around the clearing, stabbing them with his horn and laughing like a lunatic. Alice, of course, was nowhere to be found.
I cursed under my breath as I scooped up my staff, promising myself that I would have a very stern talk with Alice about her definition of distraction.
&nb
sp; Blue splashes of color coated the snow in dozens of places, and I realized that the animated snowmen had been filled like jelly donuts.
I gripped my staff angrily and readied myself to murder these cute little snowballs. Maybe Callie and her lion friend would take one look at the carnage and postpone their urgent need to talk with me.
So I had to make it look authentic.
To that effect, Alice had made sure that I would need to work for it. Because I almost lost an ear to a carrot nose grenade before I managed to fling up a shield at the last second. I had initially thought they were just illusions—glamourie—but Alice had apparently gone all out, taking a stab at grammarie—the art of making things be.
As I lunged out with my staff, I felt a release of pressure as I decapitated a snowman. In a way, it was therapeutic to cut loose and fight. And within moments, I realized I was actually laughing, imagining Thor’s ugly, hairy head on each snowman. I swung my staff like a baseball bat or a spear, depending on the situation, but either way I killed without mercy.
And…I’d apparently needed this intervention.
I didn’t bother looking for Callie and her lion. They would follow the sounds of mayhem and find me soon enough. Right now, I needed them to find a man on the edge of madness, consumed by an inner hunger that was impossible to sate.
I let my wild side come out to play.
I impaled an airborne snowman with my rainbow staff, and then swung it like a bat to decapitate a trio of snowmen behind me. I was laughing as the wind and snow whipped at my hair, and soon I felt the warm spray of blue blood hitting my cheeks.
Balls of fire suddenly lit up the night in several different directions, screaming and hissing as they tore through rows of snowmen.
My humor faded somewhat as I looked up to find Callie laughing as she hurled magic at the snowmen. I watched her, transfixed for a few heartbeats, watching as her white hair reflected the light from the snow. She was simply stunning. Then I noticed her friendly lion, Last Breath.
My landlord was biting the head off a snowman.
Except…he wasn’t a typical lion. He was more like a leonine version of Gunnar’s Wild Side—a bipedal monster lion. He was white, too, just like Callie’s hair. He was slightly smaller than Gunnar, but that meant very little in their weight class.
Since Callie had started throwing magic, I threw a few fireballs of my own as I kept Callie and her kitty in my peripheral vision. And I began to lay waste to the snowmen as if it were a competition between us.
Stick arms, blue blood, and exploded carrot noses littered the once immaculate clearing, but I pressed on until the last of the snowmen were dead or trying to crawl away with their blue guts spilling out behind them in long, vibrant blue smears.
Grimm took great pleasure in calmly trotting up to each of the wounded and stabbing them with his hooves. He finally dispatched the last snowman with a snort and turned to stare at Callie and the lion, lowering his horn in a silent warning.
Callie let out a cautious breath, her smile slipping, and waved tentatively at Grimm.
My unicorn maintained his glare, only shifting his head to keep the lion in his sights. Callie lowered her hand and let out a shiver. Not out of fear, but out of how cold it was up here. Her breath fogged up before her, reminding me that not everyone had my immunity to extreme temperatures.
I yanked my staff out from the ground, shook off some blue slush, and then turned to stare at them. I kept my features cool and blank.
Last Breath murmured something to Callie, keeping his startlingly blue eyes on us the entire time.
It was a, dare I say, cold reception.
The sounds of Katy Perry rolled over the scene of death, and I noticed Grimm absently bobbing his head up and down with the beat. I also noticed the rock I had used to bury Sir Bedivere, having forgotten all about him until that moment.
“Hey, Nate,” Callie said.
I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the snippets of conversation I had overheard in the Armory. And then there was this lion guy. My landlord, Last Breath.
I settled on the basics, keeping my voice gruff. “Hey.”
Her smile slipped. I could tell that she wasn’t necessarily afraid, but that she was very cautious in her assessment of me. In fact, she looked like she was discerning the best way to domesticate the wild animal before her.
Last Breath dipped his head politely.
Grimm snorted, scraping one hoof at the snow in front of him in a not so discreet warning. “Who’s the pussy—”
I heard a sound, and flung up a hand, instantly cutting Grimm short. The two of us turned towards the igloo, waiting. Alice hopped out a moment later.
Alice still wore her cute little blue dress with white polka dots, her long white stockings, and her shining yellow flats that definitely weren’t appropriate for the top of a mountain. For anyone other than a Fae.
She silently turned off the music and swept her piercing blue eyes over the field of snow goons—now just blue slush, hunks of coal, orange grit, and amputated stick arms.
She curled her lips and threw her hands in the air, looking frustrated. “Great. Now we’re going to have Bumblenuts circling the mountain in an hour.”
I barely bit back my laughter in time. Bumblenuts? Where had she come up with that one? I shot a glance at Callie and Last Breath, fearing that they would call her out on the obviously made-up name.
But they didn’t.
Alice’s eyes locked onto Callie and she blinked. Then they latched onto the lion and they rapidly switched to ecstatic glee. “Kitty!” she shrieked before sprinting towards him. She’d done the same thing with Gunnar. I wouldn’t have been surprised if this part was unscripted. He was noticeably uncomfortable with her unexpected glee, and I had to fight to keep my face blank rather than burst out in laughter. Especially when I saw Callie’s beautiful, heartfelt grin—a sight that threatened to melt my currently icy heart.
But I maintained character, relieved that Callie and her friend had fallen for our hastily-staged falsehood. I studied her pensively, and it didn’t take long until I felt a weight slowly lift from my shoulders. She really had found her way out of that dark place she’d been in.
As if Alice’s arrival had been a white flag, the tension in the air lessened and I motioned for Callie to join me by the fire pit. It was circled by stumps, boulders, and a heavy log—plenty of seats for the four of us. Callie sauntered over, smiling.
Last Breath handled Alice’s exuberant affection well, allowing her to pet and tug on his mane. He even suffered her relentless chattering with an amused but helpless look on his face. “My werewolf friend, Gunnar, is bigger than you,” Alice said. “Have you ever considered putting ribbons in your mane? Because I’m probably definitely going to put ribbons in your mane.” I kept my smile to myself as she peppered him with more questions in a constant stream, barely pausing to take a breath. “Your name is Last Breath?” she asked. “That’s a terrible name.”
“Some call me Richard,” he suggested, feigning offense at her blunt decree.
Alice considered that for a moment before spewing out a new stream of questions. My attention was pulled away as Callie joined me beside the firepit. She blinked at the azure blue flames—one of my personal favorites from my time spent here. It had taken a while for me to make fire that could be cold rather than hot. This one was both.
And it was ever-burning. I’d been toying around with making a lamp out of it, but that had been harder than I’d initially thought. I’d heard of someone making one, though, somewhere.
The trick was to use chips of glacier for the coals, and icicles for the kindling. After that, it continued to ‘burn’ all on its own.
Callie sat beside me without speaking, simply staring into the flames with a wondrous look on her face. It took every ounce of willpower not to reach over, grip her chin between two fingers, and kiss her until her toes curled.
The problem was that both sides of me—Nate and Wylde—ag
reed on this course of action, vehemently, for entirely different reasons.
Wylde—my Fae side—was primitive. If he saw something that he wanted, he took it.
Nate—my Earthly side—was fighting his own heart not to kiss those sweet, plump lips. Something I’d done once before, but not for nearly long enough.
So we sat in tense silence. I knew she was hesitant about how savage I seemed, and I was struggling against my very healthy desires. Desires that had been practicing abstinence for way too long.
At the same time, I was doing this for her own good.
Maybe if I said it enough times, I would actually believe it.
Chapter 35
I let out a breath as I shifted in my seat. Then I leaned forward to poke the fire with my staff, imagining a bucket of frigid water—cold enough for me to actually feel—pouring down my pants.
I sensed Callie eyeing my staff and then sucked in a breath at the adolescent translation. Not today, Satan! I told myself.
“Lightning bolt,” I said out loud, answering her unspoken question. “We set lightning traps since we’re up so high,” I explained. “And…we don’t like lightning very much,” I added in a grim tone, trying not to think too closely on Thor and what I wanted to do to him—or else my ichor might start glowing. “Anyway, the bolts freeze when they hit our traps. I kept this one as a reminder to keep one eye on the sky.” Then I grunted and let out a harsh, cold laugh at the joke.
Keep one eye on the sky, like Odin.
Callie slowly nodded, obviously not catching the joke, but trying not to discomfort me. “It looks kind of…pretty,” she said.
I nodded, hating myself for playing this game with her, even though it was just to keep her as far away as possible until I took care of the drama on my plate. “This one hit a…rainbow I made,” I said stiffly, realizing I’d been about to say Bifröst—which would have led to all sorts of questions I didn’t want her asking. I quickly set the staff down beside me, out of her sight. “You chose a hell of a time to visit. But that should be the last attack of the day,” I assured her, realizing that it was technically true.
Knightmare: Nate Temple Series Book 12 Page 21
