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

by Shayne Silvers

  “Thank you…” she whispered. She took a deep breath, glanced back at him, and studied his mask. Then she turned to stare at the belt in my hands. I had to force myself not to jerk it away instinctively. She cocked her head, as if I had done just that. Then she lifted her gaze to mine. “Why does he still appear injured, although greatly healed?”

  I decided to be honest. Like I said, I didn’t have time to go picking fights with everyone. “He is not fully healed yet. Although he is perfectly safe for the time being.”

  She began to breathe harder, faster, and her shoulders began to tighten. “I… see…”

  I held up my hands, and coincidentally, the belt. “Too much right now would kill him for sure. Trust me. Trust this.” I waggled the belt. Her eyes tracked it like Sir Muffle Paws watching a laser pointer on the wall. “He just went through a great shock to bring him back from the brink of death.” She flinched. “Oh, yes. You weren’t imagining it. He was this close from dying,” I held up my thumb and forefinger, barely a space between the two. “He needs to recover from this, and then we will complete the healing. In three days. You have my word.”

  She watched me warily, skeptically. “And this just happens to give you what you need without giving me what I need,” she said in a threatening whisper.

  I shook my head, then hesitated. “Well, yes. Technically. But I swear I will make this right.”

  “Give me the belt, and I will see that he gets the proper rest before healing him completely.”

  “You don’t know the words.”

  She watched me patiently. “That was gibberish. There was no power from you. It was all the belt. Do not test my resolve, or my intelligence again, Maker,” she hissed.

  “Fine. You’re right. There was no spell, but Ganesh gave me strict orders to keep it in my possession.”

  She was quiet for so long that I began to grow a twitch every time she breathed, fearing an immediate attack. She took a slow, confident step forward, gaze unflinching and unblinking. “Know this, Maker. If you deceive me, I will wait exactly three days, and then visit you. You say my Familiar will survive that long. We will visit you while you sleep. And we will slowly, deliciously, peel the skin from your hide. I will use the last of my power to keep you alive. I will use a rusty old knife to tear the flesh from your bones, not daring to risk diverting any of my power for such a trivial task. Because, you see, I want you to experience the pain I have experienced. I will make you watch my Familiar…” she took another step, eyes dancing with madness. “Gobble. You. Up. And then we will move on to your organs. He will drink your blood while digesting your innards.” She poked a finger at my chest, enunciating each word. “While. You. Watch.”

  I swallowed audibly. “You could have just said, thank you for healing my friend,” I muttered.

  She pointed at my desk and a lance of fire bolted from her gnarled fingernail to burn a message into the wood. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from the surface as the fire winked out. I turned back to her, but they were both gone, leaving me alone in my study. I rushed over to the desk to find an address and a time burned into the wood. Only one, not two. Damnit. At least it was a start. I began to put the belt back on, but a shadow startled me, causing me to look up in alarm. Dean stood in the doorway, watching me put my belt back on. I jerked it back out of the loops in my jeans more forcefully than necessary as his eyes scanned the mess of paperwork on the floor and desk, as if one wild party had gone on in the few minutes he had stepped away.

  Goddamn it.

  “I see you are… finished,” he said carefully, face devoid of any emotion, showing only duty.

  “Dean, it wasn’t—”

  “You need not apologize to me, Master Temple. Othello was searching for you earlier. I informed her that you were…. Entertaining a female companion.” My jaw dropped to the floor, but he continued on. “I understand that Indie has been gone quite some time, Master Temple.” He cast his eyes down, ashamed – of himself or me, I wasn’t sure. “Please call on me if you need anything further.” As an afterthought, he called over his shoulder. “I cleaned up the vase you broke earlier this morning. It had been in your family for over 100 years. Your mother was particularly fond of it…” he said, sadly. And then he left.

  Stab. Twist.

  “Dean!” I shouted, but he didn’t return.

  I sat down heavily in the chair, staring at the belt in my fist for a long time. Then I turned to stare out the window, and began to drink straight from the bottle. Proprieties be damned. For all intents and purposes, Chateau Falco had a resident GILF lover. I took another long drink, and stared out the window for a few moments, fiddling with the belt and the cuffs.

  Ganesh had told me that I needed healing. That I had a lesson to learn from all of this. Obstacles to overcome. But what could a healing belt teach me? I was running low on magic, so wasn’t sure the lesson was related to magic. I decided to wander the halls, let off some of my anger.

  Yes, walk, drink, and clear my head. Hopefully, it would help me learn things.

  Like Tyrion Lannister and the famous quote of his.

  I drink and I know things.

  Perhaps I could drink and learn things. Like how to rescue a shifter child tonight.

  I kept the bottle in my hand, but I did tuck the belt safely into my safe rather than wearing it. Along with the magical cuffs.

  Just in case Baba decided she wanted to jump me and steal it since I had admitted to her that I was limited in my magical defenses.

  Better safe than sorry.

  Chapter 24

  I had been walking the halls for quite some time when I came upon a dim section of the house with full length windows stretching down the hall. I was on the upper floor, and it granted a stunning view of the grounds. I paused, staring out at the scene, gaze resting upon the silvery tree for a few moments. The wind blew forcefully, causing the massive branches to sway back and forth, knocking a few of the razor-sharp leaves free. I watched as they lazily drifted down to the ground, and then flinched in surprise as a pale creature darted out from behind a bush to smack it out of his way. He scowled down at it, stomped on it, and then began sniffing the air. His fists flexed at his sides, and then he began walking towards the base of the tree. Not wanting to lose him from my sight by running outside, I did the next best thing. I began fumbling with the latch on the window so that I could yell at him.

  The glass window opened, providing me with a fresh, unobstructed view of the tree. As I looked up to open my mouth and shout, I stopped.

  He was… gone. I blinked, eyes questing the bushes and trees for any sign of movement.

  What the hell?

  The cold wind began to howl louder, but I didn’t care. I crouched down to my knees, out of view, eyes peering over the windowsill, and spent a good five minutes studying the tree, waiting for him to come out of hiding. He must have heard me open the window, and had seen me. If he saw I was no longer there, perhaps he would come back into view. I took another sip from the bottle, waiting. I heard a door click behind me and glanced back sharply. Dean was exiting one of the storage rooms. He turned to find me kneeling below the open window, bottle of liquor in my hand, obviously acting mischievous. I grinned at him in embarrassment.

  He blinked, glanced past me out the window and the cold wind rushing inside, then settled patient eyes on me. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, nodded at me politely, and then slowly backed away. He disappeared down the hallway and I heard him quickening his speed. I realized I was still grinning like an idiot.

  He could write a book about his experiences here, and make millions.

  I turned back to the window with a sigh and, realizing that the skulker wasn’t going to reappear, stood with a frustrated huff and pulled the window closed. As I was reaching for the latch to lock it in place, I glanced through the glass one last time and saw him again. I was already shouting as I pushed the window back open.

  The moment the window swung free, leaving only empty air be
tween me and the creature, he was suddenly gone again. I stared in disbelief. There had been no puff of smoke, no magic. He was simply gone. Then I frowned, slowly turning to study the window. I reached for it and began to close it again.

  And the creature was suddenly visible. But… only when looking through the glass.

  As I was staring through the partially-open window, stunned by the observation, a particularly strong burst of wind caught it and slammed it closed, shattering the glass to rain down upon me. I fell on my ass as one of the pieces sliced deeply into my forearm. I leaned back with a hiss, glancing down at the bleeding wound. I crouched on the thick carpets, surrounded by glass shards as I heard heavy feet pounding my way. I ignored them and my wound, and crawled over to the large piece of glass that had cut my arm. The edge was stained with my blood, and it was about the size of two of my hands put together. I picked it up, gazing at it wonderingly, watching as my blood dripped down the surface.

  I held it up to the tree…

  And there the creature stood, studying the grass at his feet, entirely unaware of me.

  I heard a gasp and a muffled curse behind me.

  I turned to find Dean and Mallory staring at me, eyes practically bugging out of their sockets. I held up the bloody glass for them to see, more blood dripping freely down my arm as the wind rushing into the house blew my hair in every which direction. “The glass. It lets me see things,” I whispered, more to myself than anything.

  Dean sucked in a breath, and Mallory’s mouth dropped open as they stared at me in horror.

  “I know. It blew my mind, too,” I said, grinning at the marvel of magic and construction used in building my mansion.

  They shared a concerned look, and then Mallory grabbed Dean by the shoulder and forcefully stormed him back down the hall, out of sight. I frowned, but was too enamored with the amazing fact that the windows of Chateau Falco were freaking enchanted.

  I jumped to my feet and stared out at the tree. Nothing.

  Then I held up the glass and peered through the bloody surface. And saw the limey bastard still skulking about. “I’ve got you now,” I whispered, and began to laugh.

  I carefully set down the glass and tore off my shirt, using my teeth to bind the cloth to my wound. Then I picked up the large piece of glass and began barreling towards the front door. I bolted past Dean and Mallory, who stared at me with obvious alarm, but I ignored them, laughing wildly as I shouted, “I got him, Mallory! The glass. It’s all in the glass!”

  Othello, wrapped in only a thick towel, was exiting one of the bathrooms. I stumbled into her, but quickly caught myself, suddenly terrified I would drop the glass. I leaned my back against the wall, staring down at the precious item to see that I hadn’t broken it. I looked up to find Othello staring at me with horrified eyes. I was grinning like a mischievous teenager, shirtless, covered in blood, and holding a sharp pane of glass.

  Her towel had dropped to the ground, and she stood utterly nude before me, pale skin exquisite and unblemished. Her breasts heaved as she stared from me to the glass, and she was very obviously cold, but she didn’t seem to care as her eyes locked on the blood.

  I grinned. “It’s okay. The glass is safe. It lets me see things that aren’t there,” I whispered. Then I realized I was wasting time. “I’ll be back in a bit. Put some clothes on or you’ll freeze that cute little butt of yours right off! Damn your luck, Death!” I shouted, laughing as I ran down the hallway again.

  I raced out the front door and made my way to the tree, careful to keep the glass at my side so I didn’t drop it. I reached the trunk of the tree, and with a nervous sigh, held the glass up in front of my face. The creature was abruptly visible, only a dozen feet away, and this close, he looked like a pure killing machine. Leather straps crossed his chest, holding long, milky white knives. His eyes were a frosty blue, like chips from ancient glaciers, and he scanned the ground in search of… something. Long, reptilian hands ended in white, scaly claws, like an albino lizard, and his legs and feet looked to be reptilian too, like a dinosaur. At least, judging by the calf-high boots covering them.

  His elongated jaws also jutted out like a reptile, with inky black fangs ending in jagged, pointed teeth.

  And he didn’t see me as I took a few cautious steps closer.

  I stopped and watched him for a time, stunned at the unknown creature, but also growing uneasy as he didn’t seem to notice me. I was only six feet away from him now, and openly watching him. Before, I had come out here to threaten him, declaring to know what he was doing on my property, but now that I saw him up close…

  Not only was I reconsidering how badly that conversation might go, but I was also growing a little nervous about what he was doing, and why he hadn’t acknowledged me at all. Did he even see me? Did he know where he was? Did he know I was here? And the Dark Presence had decided to take another nap, so he was of no help.

  I cleared my throat.

  The hole where his ears would be – again, like a lizard – might have constricted in my general direction, but other than that, he kept right on searching. Frantically. Desperately.

  What the hell was he looking for?

  “Excuse me. What are you doing here, Scaly?” I asked, the proper balance of command and curiosity.

  He froze, and slowly turned to face me, eyes narrowed as they locked on the piece of glass between us. He took me in with a gaze that let me realize he was not in the slightest bit concerned for his safety. Then he looked past me, and around us. Seeing no one, he turned back to me, leaned closer, and waved slowly, as if wondering if he was imagining things.

  I waved back with a light smile.

  “You sseee meee,” he hissed, spine straightening.

  I nodded, still holding up the glass before us.

  “If you can sseee meee, I can eatss youss…” His nightmare jaws opened up with a hungry growl, and he launched himself at my face.

  I shouted on instinct as I dove clear, managing to drop the piece of glass in my fright. It shattered on the ground, and I found I was alone again. My head darted every which way, terrified that now that I could no longer see him, I was about to die an unseen, horribly violent death from those black teeth or his white knives.

  But I saw nothing.

  And nothing happened.

  As I spun in slow circles, searching for the lizard-man, I spotted Dean, Mallory, and Othello watching me from the driveway. They looked concerned, and considering.

  They shared a look with each other, and then turned away, leaving me alone.

  I took one last look at my surroundings, saw the pieces of glass on the ground, and shivered. I stomped on them for good measure, and began trudging back up to the house, wondering what the hell was going on, and wondering how I was going to tell anyone about it.

  After all, the second the beast knew I could see it, it had been able to attack me. But the second I dropped the glass, nothing had happened. Almost as if the beast couldn’t do anything to me if I couldn’t actually see it. What the hell?

  Chapter 25

  I walked into Shags, a barbershop, a few hours later, and found him seated at a chair. He tracked me as I walked inside, but he didn’t move his head, allowing the barber to continue uninterrupted. I sat down in one of the unused chairs opposite him. It was past dark now, and the place was closed for business.

  For all but a select few.

  We didn’t say anything, but I could see the calculating look in his gaze, no doubt eager to hear any updates about tonight. I stayed silent as the barber continued to work, having taken one look at me, and receiving a calming murmur from his customer that it was okay for me to stay. I rolled my eyes. As if anyone would have been able to kick me out anyway.

  After my run in with the goblins and my introduction to the creatures snooping around my tree, I had gone back to my office to search for answers. And to heal my wounds with Ganesh’s belt. I had decided to leave the cuffs and belt locked away for now. I didn’t want to risk losing
them in a fight. Hell, I had even swung by the Armory to check with my dad about the windows. I hadn’t shared details, not wanting to terrify him, but if anyone had known about the enchanted glass windows, it would have been him.

  I had hoped.

  Of course, he would know nothing about the tree, seeing as how he hadn’t been alive when the tree came into creation. And I had yet to share too many of the details about that night with them, not wanting a lecture, and not wanting to remember any of the details: The Dark Presence now living inside me, the one I had temporarily partnered with to kill the Brothers Grimm.

  It never tended to go well when you told someone that you had an imaginary voice inside of your head, urging you to do dark deeds. Or that you had seen creatures no one else could see. But my father had been less than helpful, only wanting to see me use my Maker ability, and to talk about the educational text that Ichabod had left me. He was fascinated by anything happening in the real world. My engagement. Wedding plans. My Maker power.

  I left in a hurry, because none of these things were pleasant conversations at the moment.

  I hadn’t seen Mallory, Dean, or Othello since coming back inside, but to be honest, I hadn’t wanted to talk to them anyway. I had too much going on to worry about their feelings.

  So, I watched the werewolf get his hair cut.

  The barber finally stepped back, appraising him. “Satisfied so far?”

  Gunnar glanced in the mirror, turning his head side to side so his one eye could see it all, and then smiled.

  “On to the other one, then?” Gunnar nodded.

  I frowned. What were they talking about?

  Gunnar loosened his shirt collar, and abruptly shifted so that his head was in wolf form. I glanced down at his hands, and saw that they were lightly furred, meaning he had done the next to impossible shift that only Alphas – or really powerful werewolves – could do. Part man, part wolf, remaining in a bipedal state.

  The barber took one calming breath, and began to trim Gunnar’s thick, snowy white wolf fur.