Beast Master: A Novel in The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 5)

by Shayne Silvers

  I heard Alucard hiss in alarm, and then a powerful blow to my shoulder sent me tumbling down the stairs and into the hallway below. My forehead skidded across the wooden floor with a loud screech to finally hammer into the leg of a side table. A vase wobbled and tipped over, dumping a million gallons of water onto my face. I gasped in surprise, jumping to my feet and whirling in a blur, ready to fight back.

  The vase was floating before me, and my hands instinctively knocked it away to shatter on the floor. Barbie, the silver sprite who had helped me defeat the Grimms, hovered in the air before me, all of a foot tall, cute as a button, and a tiny frown on her face.

  As usual, she was gloriously naked.

  “Hey! I saved it. Why did you knock it back down to the ground?” She snapped angrily. She folded her arms, only managing to emphasize her breasts. She was a sex sprite, so I was entirely sure that she did it on purpose, using the motion to lift them up for better view.

  I was distantly concerned that the Dark Presence hadn’t reacted in any way. Things like this usually brought him to the forefront of my mind, screaming that everyone needed to die by fire or something particularly violent. He must have been napping.

  A similar-sized sprite flitted about beside her, but this one was an aged crone, reminding me of a piece of old driftwood. Her skin, wings, and clothing were entirely black, like dark ink. I stared at them. “You!”

  “Us,” they responded in unison, cocking their heads curiously. Barbie turned to her inky compatriot. “Is this perhaps a mortal game where we shout pronouns back and forth?”

  The aged black sprite shrugged, tapping her lips thoughtfully. “If so, I’ve never heard of it. And don’t understand the point of such a game. But it makes sense, in an idiotic mortal fashion. Yet another useless pastime.”

  I snapped my fingers to get their attention. They snapped back. “Perhaps he’s trying to communicate with us,” the old sprite stared at me quizzically.

  Barbie nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard of this one. I think they call it shah-rayds.”

  “You almost killed me!” I finally shouted.

  “Perhaps you should pay more attention,” Barbie snapped.

  “Yes, we did call out your name.” The crone frowned. “We did call out his name, didn’t we?”

  Barbie nodded in response, studying me with a frown. “I’m sure we did. Almost sure. Yes, we most likely did.” I blinked at them, imagining a fly swatter in my mind before quickly vanquishing the thought. After all, with my Maker power, I could literally do such things and they would pop into existence.

  Most of the time. But I didn’t dare waste my now-limited powers on such a trivial action.

  “Unless we didn’t.” Barbie amended. She swept closer, right up into my face and prodded me with a silver finger. “We’re not here for you. So maybe we didn’t call out your name. What do you have to say about that?” she snapped.

  “Jesus, calm down. If you’re not looking for me, why did you almost kill me?” I finally answered, deciding it wasn’t doing my patience any favors to sit here and argue with the Lilliputians.

  “We are looking for the conduit. The pretty one.”

  I tapped my lips feigning a thoughtful look. Payback time. “I know where the ugly conduit is, but not the pretty one,” I replied, deadpan.

  Barbie scowled at me, weighing my words. “I don’t want the ugly one. I was perfectly clear. I want the pretty one.”

  I shrugged. “Then I cannot aid you.”

  “Impossible mortals. Honestly, you would think they would make more sense sometimes.”

  Before I could respond, the two sprites sailed past me, shouting Tory’s name. I cursed under my breath. If they knew the name of the person they wanted, why hadn’t they simply said so? Damn fairies. Still, I wasn’t exactly optimistic about their sudden arrival and their sudden interest in Tory.

  Chapter 11

  I tore after the pixies, muttering silently in my mind, I don’t believe in fairies.

  But I didn’t dare say it aloud. Just in case. I didn’t want them falling dead, after all. Not really. I heard Alucard pounding down the stairs after me, urgently shouting my name as he struggled to pull his pants on while running. I shouted encouragement for him to hurry, but didn’t slow down for him.

  Shouts of alarm burst out from the office as the pixies zipped through the open doorway. I followed them inside to find everyone on edge, fangs, claws, and guns out, ready for war at the sudden intrusion. Luckily, no one had actually tried to kill anyone yet. I held out my hands in what I hoped look like a wait gesture. I did a quick scan of the room, checking for attendance, and who was the most likely to be in danger if things went south. The sprites were tiny, but they had juice.

  Mallory stood near the wall by the massive window behind the desk, watching, waiting, looking ready to break something as he clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. I knew his lightning spear was readily available, even if it was currently unseen. It could do that. Dean, Raego, and Achilles had escorted Rufus to the dungeon and had not returned.

  But Gunnar and Ashley had returned, and stood close enough to the doorway that they could leave in a heartbeat if I still seemed to have their names on my Most Wanted List. But I didn’t have time to concern myself with them.

  The sprites hovered before Tory. The Reds were hunkered down, ready to pounce, but Tory was holding her hands out to calm them. Othello sat stiffly in one of the chairs, having returned from her kitchen clean-up in my absence. She probably hadn’t ever seen a fairy before, and I noticed that she was clutching the box I had seen Death holding. A gift? The Huntress leaned casually against the far wall, now back in her typical tight-fitting, hunting leathers, eyes glittering as she watched the spectacle. She had come back from her brief hiatus at dinner.

  “Stop!” I commanded.

  “Stop what?” Barbie asked without turning to me.

  “Oh, don’t bother with him. His head is cracked. I heard it from the Daywalker outside.”

  “Ah, that’s right.” Barbie replied, as if suddenly remembering.

  “Okay, I’m here. You’re all safe now.” Alucard muttered, bursting in the room after me. It still annoyed me that vampires didn’t typically get winded from exhaustion when exerting themselves. “What the hell happened to your face?” he asked me, alarmed. I idly touched the red skin on my forehead with a scowl. It stung. He shook his head. “Never mind. Now, what the hell is going on?” he said, scanning the room for danger. He saw the sprites surrounding Tory and pointed a threatening finger at them. “You!” he shouted.

  “Us!” they shouted back, then burst into high-pitched squeals of laughter. I decided I was going to call the black one Inky. Barbie smiled at Inky with a knowing look. “See? It really is a game. We’ll practice later so that we can best these mortal swine.” With that, they turned to Tory, faces and voices animated. “You mustn’t use your powers,” they said in unison.

  Tory blinked. “What?”

  Barbie zipped closer, tapping her head with a silver finger. “Not cracked, just dim.” She zipped back up beside Inky and focused on Tory again, speaking slowly. “You mustn’t use your power. The power of our sister.”

  Tory blinked. “Okay. I can try.”

  “Do or do not. There is no try.”

  “Star Wars? Really?” Othello gasped in astonishment.

  “Okay!” Tory exclaimed in frustration. “Perhaps you could explain it to my dim mortal mind. Why mustn’t I use the powers your sister gifted me.”

  “Oh, this one’s not dim. She’s clever,” Barbie grinned.

  “Yes, it is why our sister gifted her the power.”

  “That, and the conduit was missing an arm.”

  “Perhaps. She did always have sympathy for wounded beasts.”

  “But everyone was wounded that night, so perhaps our sister was wise beyond her years.”

  “Pah, wisdom. What good did it do her?” Inky snarled.

  Barbie nodded in agreement. “Sympa
thy is for the weak. Grammarie is a strong gift. More than she would give to a wounded beast.”

  Tory’s face was growing dark with impatience, and her eyes began to flash a deep green. Barbie shrieked. “That! Stop it. Right now!” She threw a fistful of silver dust at Tory, getting it in her eyes and sending her into a coughing fit.

  “Hey!” I yelled, suddenly terrified that they had harmed Tory.

  “Straw! Grass! Quit your braying, mortal mule!” Inky was suddenly in my face, slapping me violently. It felt like a swarm of wasps stinging me, and I began to shout back, thrashing about wildly in an attempt to protect my eyes. She was gone before I could make contact, and the Huntress burst out laughing. I scowled at her for good measure.

  “Hee-haw!” she bellowed at my annoyed look, laughing all over again.

  Before I could respond, Tory growled, rubbing furiously at her eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you! You just bedazzled me.”

  The sprites shared a look, seeming to ask each other, what the hell is the mortal wench babbling about?

  Tory finally wiped enough of the fairy dust from her eyes, which luckily had not harmed her, only infuriating her. “Now, what the hell is wrong with me using the powers your sister gifted me?”

  “Because the Queens are looking for you,” they answered in tandem.

  The silence was a physical presence in the room. You could have heard, well…

  A fairy fart.

  Chapter 12

  “Queens?” Othello asked softly. The Huntress had grown suddenly tense. And Mallory stood so still that he almost appeared to be a statue. Which couldn’t be good. The Reds now looked more relaxed, seeing that they weren’t actually under attack from the fairies. But they didn’t look pleased at the conversation. And they kept shooting thoughtful looks my way. Equal parts wariness and interest. I wasn’t sure what that was about, other than maybe they still held a grudge for me being rude to Alucard. Or because I had blabbed about my dungeon.

  Barbie noticed the Huntress’ reaction. “She understands. Tell the mortal swine in common speak. Make them see.” She danced furiously about the Huntress’ head, plucking at her shoulders and shoving her forward a step. Surprisingly, the Huntress took this very calmly, eyes distant as she was prodded forward. The Huntress had ties to the Fae. I wasn’t sure how, exactly, but the first time I had met her she had commanded a Gruffalo from the Fae realm.

  Yes. A real fucking Gruffalo. Like the children’s book, but scarier.

  A lot scarier.

  “The Queens… of Fae—” she began.

  Inky quickly interrupted. “No names, please.”

  The Huntress nodded. “Right. The Queens of Winter and Summer. They command the Fae in a unique partnership. They split the year in half, then pass on the responsibility to the other during the solstices.” She turned to the sprites. “They are after Tory for using her new powers?”

  The sprites raced towards each other, arguing softly before separating. One was nodding, the other was shaking her head.

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  I waited as they glared at each other. Finally, Barbie held out a hand for Inky to continue.

  “Upon the death of our sister, we were summoned back to the Land of the Fae. They requested news of this world, and where we had been, and what we had done. They had sensed a great disturbance in the forces here.”

  “Jesus,” Alucard muttered. “Fairies really do love Star Wars…”

  I sighed, collapsing into a chair. Then I jerked my head, realizing Alucard had just uttered the name of the Son of God. And he was still standing. He didn’t appear to have realized his choice of words. He had definitely changed. “The Grimm battle,” I said to the sprites, not wanting to draw attention to him.

  Inky nodded. “Grimm War,” she corrected, then burst into a fit of cackles. “Grimm War… Grimmwar.” The emphasis finally made me get it.

  I rolled my eyes, growing impatient, and justifiably alarmed. The Queens were serious business. “Yes, Grimoire, very clever. Now, what about the Grimm War concerns the Fae?”

  “Why, us, of course. We involved ourselves in mortal schemes, calling upon our gift of Grammarie to cage the vile beast. And the conduit has used her powers since.”

  “What is Grammarie?” Ashley asked politely.

  “The art of making things seem,” Gunnar murmured, and was immediately slapped upside the head by Barbie. He growled at her. She shook her fist back at him, making Ashley burst out laughing. His hair hung in a mess now, his man-bun disheveled.

  Inky was eyeing Gunnar with a frown. “Why does he decorate his head in such a fashion?”

  Alucard laughed hard. “Yeah. The man bun trend needs to die. In a fire. With multiple casualties.” Gunnar scowled at him for a moment before turning back to the sprites.

  Barbie put her hands on her hips, glaring at the room. It was hard to take her seriously since she was naked, but I gave her points for effort. “Glamourie is the art of making things seem. Grammarie is the art of making things be, filthy hound.” I burst out laughing, and she spun, leveling a finger at me. “The Maker also wields Grammarie and Glamourie, just like the Fae.” And I shut up. Immediately.

  “Nate’s a fairy!” Alucard hooted, before the sprites attacked him in a pincer movement, slapping the sparkle right off his face. But all I could do was stare vacantly, dumbfounded.

  “No, that can’t be right. All wizards can do similar things…” I began, but it felt hollow even as I said it.

  “No, they can do only mild reflections of what you can do.”

  “Is that how you change your size? Grammarie?” I asked thoughtfully.

  She weighed me up and down with a serious face. “Yes.”

  “Why do you choose a smaller form?”

  She rolled her eyes. “When one is larger, more energy goes to power the body, taking away from the brain.” She shot me a sharp look, and Aria burst out laughing. “That’s why trolls are mindless beasts,” she said, matter-of-factly.

  I smiled. “Which means that a cockroach would be smarter than you…”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, mortal man-child. I am Fae.” Her argument held literally no merit, but I let it go, simply pleased that I was annoying her. “With training, you could learn such things. If you survive that long. But don’t worry, the Queens, or one of them at least, will likely capture you to fit you with a leash before you need to worry about that. Then she will train you properly before releasing you again.”

  “I will not be fitted for a leash,” I growled defiantly.

  Inky shook her head sadly. “Such fight, you will need it to maintain your sanity amongst her other pets. Such is the price of knowledge, Maker.”

  I dropped the topic, knowing I would likely pin them to a bug box if they continued. “That was months ago. If they wanted me so badly, they would have already come for me.”

  The sprites were shaking their heads. “They can’t. Not yet. But they have begun stressing the barriers to ease their entry into your world.”

  “What?” I demanded, almost hyperventilating now. The Huntress looked about ready to bolt.

  “They are too powerful, so they have begun sending their henchmen into your world, to familiarize your world’s barriers with our presence.”

  I blinked back. Everyone was silent. I remembered the Amber Alerts, and shivered. Alucard approached, handing me a drink. I took it blindly, and instantly began to finish it in one pull. Then I hesitated, and took only a sip. But a big one. I had experienced what happened when my emotions got out of control. Especially if it involved alcohol. My mind was a dangerous place. I was almost entirely sure that a stray thought could come to life if I wasn’t careful. It had happened once before. And now I had a name for it, if the sprites were correct.

  Grammarie.

  “That doesn’t make sense. The Fae used to come here all the time. Stealing children, turning bridges into troll-booths,” I waved a hand, “and other general nuisances.”
r />   “And you appeased us with milk and honey, and hard iron, before collaborating with forces better left untouched…” Their eyes tightened with disapproval at the last.

  I nodded with a glare. “I have some hard iron to show your queens. Tell them that,” I said, wondering what her last comment had meant.

  The Huntress and sprites all gasped at my disrespect. “Inappropriate,” Gunnar agreed.

  I took another drink, ignoring them. Alucard placed a hand on my shoulder in support. “What does this have to do with Tory?” he asked politely.

  “She has taken gifts from our sister. She is now one of us…” They shared a look. “Kind of. I think,” Barbie finally muttered. “Semantics. Her using her power is a beacon that will call them directly to her. They want to… speak with her.” They looked at Alucard with hungry smiles. “And her pet,” they added.

  “No,” Alucard and the Huntress growled at exactly the same time. The Reds suddenly sported dragon claws, irises a brilliant crimson shade with the telltale horizontal pupils that marked them as dragons. They stared at Tory and Alucard protectively.

  “Then don’t use the power!” The sprites hissed right back, but their words were aimed only at Tory, ignoring everyone else’s reaction.

  It was silent as everyone marginally calmed down, the Reds losing their claws, but still anxiously watching their adopted parents. “So, the evil queens are trying to break in to take Tory, and they will also take Nate, if he’s not careful,” Gunnar concluded. “And the sparkly one, whatever his name is. I never remember the names of henchmen.” Alucard’s fangs snapped out instinctively as he sneered back at the werewolf.

  “The Gateway protects you. For now,” Inky rasped, looking displeased at the words.

  Everyone shared a look, waiting for elaboration. Inky sighed, and then zipped to the window overlooking my property to point at the gargantuan tree. The metallic white bark glowed in the sunlight, and the metallic razor-sharp leaves glittered in golds and silvers, looking as if…