Tiny Gods
A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 6
Shayne Silvers
Contents
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
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
MAKE A DIFFERENCE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BOOKS BY SHAYNE SILVERS
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Shayne Silvers
Tiny Gods
A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 6
© 2017, Shayne Silvers / Argento Publishing, LLC
[email protected]
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
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All power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely…
Lord Acton
Chapter 1
Bullets shattered the back windshield of the Tahoe, but I had already been ducking down in the front passenger seat.
“What part of lose them was unclear to you? And you’re still going the wrong way,” I shouted, peeking over the back of my headrest. “You girls okay?” I asked, loud enough for the Reds to hear me over the sudden street noise and roar of our engine, let alone the van chasing us. They nodded, slowly climbing back into their seats from the floor.
“I know I’m going the wrong way, but I had to go the wrong way to lose the first two vans!” Alucard snapped, tires squealing as he jerked the wheel to avoid another barrage of pistol fire. “You didn’t have to break his damned arm! We could have just agreed to disagree.”
“They surrounded me! All while you stood there doing a whole lot of nothing!” I argued.
“It’s what weregorillas do when threatened! And you told me you needed a driver, not a thug!” he shouted right back, turning down a side street to get us going in the right direction.
Bullets sprayed the buildings beside us, their shots going wide as we changed course. “In my world, they’re the same thing!” I snapped. “Just drive. Lose them. We’ll sort this out after we escape the angry monkeys,” I growled.
He just shook his head angrily, glancing in the rearview constantly, trying to predict their shots and keep us bullet-free. I turned around, watching the van chasing us. It seemed to be getting closer, and I could see a man leaning out the car window. “Tory is going to be so pissed. We’re going to be late,” Alucard whined.
“No, we’re— Ah!” the man had pulled out a shotgun, aiming it our way. “Get down!” I shouted at the teenaged weredragons in the backseat, and let off a few shots from the pistol in my fist, trying to deter the van. The man ducked back inside instantly. One of my shots went wild, but one struck the front wheel, blowing their tire – just like in the movies.
The chasing van lost control and swerved right into the only parked car on the deserted street. I grunted satisfactorily, trying to both hide my astonishment, and maintain my devil-may-care reputation in front of the Reds. “Okay, you can get up now, but be ready to duck again.” I changed my voice to the Count from Sesame Street. “Because like Sparkula said, there are one, two, three vans of gorillas chasing us! Muah, ha, ha, ha.” They just stared at me, probably not getting the reference.
Kids.
“I do not sound like that,” Alucard snarled. “And don’t call me Sparkula!”
I chuckled, searching the floorboards now that we had a moment of respite. “We’re not going to be late to the Gala. I have a—” I cut off, staring at the floor in disbelief. “Shit,” I whispered, quickly leaning over the center console to check the floorboard in the back. The Reds moved their feet, confused looks on their faces. Nothing.
“What are we going to do when the other two vans find us? Hmm?” Alucard persisted. “You know they’re circling the block. This is their neighborhood. And what the hell are you looking for?” he hissed, annoyed that I seemed to be ignoring him.
“I must have left it at the office,” I said, feeling like an idiot.
“What are you talking about?” he yelled, eyes scanning the streets as we zipped by.
“My satchel. Our way out of here.”
“Your man purse?” Sonya asked. “I saw it on the table. You left it there when Greta began showing you those pamphlets.”
“Religious tracts,” Alucard shuddered, saying it in the same tone someone else would use to describe a platter of steaming dog feces. Because he was a vampire. Although the whole religious thing didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore, he’d still been zapped one too many times by them. Because vampires and religion got along like a dog peeing on an electric fence.
“It’s not a man purse,” I argued, pulling out my phone to call the office. “It’s a satchel.”
A harried voice answered the call, sounding annoyed. “Grimm Tech.”
“Greta! This is Nate. Did I leave my satchel there?” I asked desperately, fear clawing at my insides. The contents of the satchel were unstable. Lethally unstable.
“Your man purse? Let me check,” she responded. Alucard burst out laughing.
“You are literally the only one who calls it that. Just admit it,” he said. Then he jerked the wheel hard to the right –
almost making me drop the phone – and ducked into an alley. He had flipped off the lights before we even stopped. A van flew by on the street where we had just been, racing towards their stranded pals, most likely. I flashed him a smile as Greta came back on the phone.
“You left it here on the table. Yahn said he would take it to you at the Gala after his dance class in the old warehouse district. The Gala I’m trying to get ready for. The one you are supposed to be hosting…” her annoyance was blindingly obvious, because Greta didn’t waste time on feelings. At least not when it came to me. “He said he called you.”
“Dance class,” I repeated dumbly, but my fear was slightly diminished by relief, because at least we were in the old warehouse district. “Okay. Thanks, Greta. See you there,” I blurted, hanging up as she began reprimanding me about something else.
Because fear still gripped me. Yahn was just walking around with my satchel? Did he have any idea what was inside? One wrong move and he could blow up a building! I quickly scrolled through my phone, Alucard tapping the steering wheel anxiously.
“We can’t just sit here, Nate. They’re bound to find us. We need a way out. Now. Or we’re going to be late to the Gala,” he warned. “Or dead. I would rather get dead than be late,” he added. The Reds chimed in their agreement from the backseat.
I saw the missed call, and realized my phone had been on silent. I immediately dialed it back, ignoring Alucard. “Fucking wizards,” he muttered as I waited for Yahn to pick up.
“He’s carrying around a freaking bomb, man!” I snapped. Alucard’s anger evaporated.
Yahn answered. “Ya, this is Yahn,” he said in a thick, cheerful Swedish accent.
“It’s me, Nate. Hey, did you pick up—”
“Master Temple! Alriiight!” he shouted happily, voice laced with enthusiasm, happiness, and unicorn farts. His accent was so strong, so flamboyant, and so overly enunciated, that it was sometimes painful to talk to him for very long. He was Greta’s grandson – a foreign exchange student – and she had convinced me to hire him as an intern for my new company. “I toe-tah-lee have yer man purse—”
Even the Reds burst out laughing at that.
“Satchel, Yahn. Satch—” I cut off my argument abruptly. “Never mind. Where are you?”
“Just leaving dancing class, we are putting on this show, and like, it’s going to be toe-tah-lee awesome and stuff!” he answered, excitedly.
“Address. What address?” I pressed.
He told me. Alucard pulled it up on the screen, face going pale. It was back the way we had come, right through gorilla territory.
Yahn began speaking into the phone again, but I interrupted him. “Yahn, listen. I need you to get my… purse, and wait outside by the curb. Be very, very careful with the bag. Don’t jostle it. We will be there in,” I glanced at the GPS unit, “two minutes. Be ready to jump in. Fast.”
He was quiet on the other end of the line as Alucard put the car in gear, backing up quickly and turning around. “Yoo want to, like, give me a ride and stuff?” he repeated, almost whispering, but sounding as if he had won the lottery. “That would be toe-tah-lee cool!” he squealed, piercing my ear canal with Swedish cheer. “See you soon!” and he hung up.
Alucard shifted back into drive, shaking his head the entire time, but he took the first left, running parallel to the street we had originally been on, sending us straight back to monkey-town. “This better not blow up in our faces, Nate.” He realized his words after the fact, and shot me a sickening look. “Figuratively or literally, I guess.”
“Just drive, Glampire. And avoid the weregorillas, or I’m blaming it all on you.”
The Reds clapped in the backseat, as Alucard pressed the gas pedal harder.
“Call me Glampire all you want, but just remember which one of us has a pet unicorn…” he offered casually. The Reds sniggered in the back seat as I bit back a growl.
Chapter 2
Yahn stood on the sidewalk, unconcernedly jamming out to music with his overly large headphones. He was wearing sparkly charcoal-colored tights, ballet flats, and a flaming pink spandex unitard over his pudgy frame. My satchel and a backpack sat on the ground beside him. His white-blonde hair was perfectly styled under his huge headphones, and his light eyebrows made him look perpetually surprised and enthusiastic, dramatically lighting up his face. We skidded to a halt beside him, and with his eyes closed, he didn’t even notice us. I found myself stunned to silence, staring as he thrashed and raged, kicking his feet while he made odd flailing motions with his hands.
Dancing like no one was watching, and the world was his stage.
Alucard made up for my surprise. He jumped out of the car, jostling Yahn by the shoulders, which surprised the ever-living hell out of him, because he shrieked as if being murdered. Alucard quickly and carefully picked up the bags, and handed them to me through the window. I let out a sigh of relief, clutching my satchel tightly to my chest.
Yahn was now staring at us, silent for once. Alucard jerked his head to look behind us, a panicked look flashing across his face. He instantly turned to Yahn, and said, “Sorry.”
Then he grabbed him by the unitard straps as Sonya opened her door, and flung him inside with more force than was necessary. Because, despite how big Yahn was, Alucard was a vampire.
“Yah!” Yahn shrieked in surprise, before landing face-first into Aria’s love-pillows, his headphones clattering to the curb.
Alucard had already jumped back into the car, slamming on the gas before he had closed his door. And not a moment too soon, as another set of tires skidded around the corner behind us, engine groaning as the van of weregorillas stomped on the pedal in pursuit. Alucard gave it everything he had, mashing the pedal to the floorboard.
Sonya slammed her door while the car was in motion, and then slapped Yahn hard on the ass. He shrieked again, this time into Aria’s boobs, but quickly repositioned himself so that he was sitting between them, eyes as wide as saucers. “What ees—”
Bullets peppered the car again, and Yahn let out a scream of terror as Aria shoved his face into her crotch, hunkering her upper body low over his head to avoid any potential bullets. This effectively made a Yahn sandwich that any hormonal adolescent would remember to the end of his days.
But not Yahn. He just let out muffled, panicked screams.
I slunk lower into my seat, searching through the satchel carefully, but urgently. I let out a breath as my hand closed over the two small glass spheres. I slowly pulled them out, thinking furiously.
“We’re never going to make it. One of the other vans is right behind him. You better have one hell of a plan in that purse of yours,” Alucard said, swerving back and forth to avoid the gunfire.
I did have a plan, but it wouldn’t work with us moving this fast. I needed to break the spheres open at a safe distance. Because they were still prototypes, and liable to blow up three out of ten times.
Rather than open a Gateway like they had been designed to do.
I had put them in my satchel, wanting to take them home to tinker with later tonight. Alucard pumped the brakes, swerved to dodge a random shopping cart rolling across the middle of the road, and then punched the gas again. The motion sent the balls flying right into the backseat, and I gasped in horror, expecting a ball of flame to incinerate us in an instant. But my balls bounced off Yahn’s pudgy chest, and dropped straight into his cleavage, burrowing under his unitard. I let out an anxious breath. We had been saved by Yahn’s man-boobs.
“Be careful with my balls!” I screamed. “They’re fragile!” The three in the back froze, each staring down at Yahn’s sweaty chest, and the two perfect spheres that could be seen pushing out under the fabric.
Alucard began laughing so hard that he couldn’t speak for a moment. “Nate’s balls are fragile!” he finally hooted, pounding the steering wheel. “If I wasn’t driving right now, I would toe-tah-lee Facetime Gunnar!” he roared, mimicking Yahn’s voice.
Yahn managed
to frown at the vampire, sensing the mockery, but I placed my palm on the vampire’s face, slowly pushing him away to focus on the road as I climbed onto the console.
“Ack! I’m trying to drive!” he slurred, words impeded by my fingers up his nose and in his mouth. I ignored him, focusing on the Swede as I pulled my hand away. Gross, vampire slobber.
“Yahn, stay still. Sonya, Aria, I need you to grab my balls.”
“Jesus!” Alucard shouted, roaring with laughter again. “I can’t even—” he gasped.
“Yah, toe-tah-lee okay. I won’t make a peep,” Yahn insisted, jutting his chest out.
The Reds turned horrified faces in my direction. “He’s so sweaty,” Sonya whispered.
“Great dancing class today, yah! Toe-tah-lee rad and stuff!” Yahn grinned happily, not understanding that it hadn’t been a compliment.
Aria tightened her lips, face a mask of disgust as she slowly inched her hand into his cleavage and carefully retrieved the ball. She hesitated, and then her fingers began to slide across his sweaty chest towards the other sphere, trying to grab both balls. “No! Just one ball at a time. They’re fragile, and sweaty. Sonya, grab the other one. Just hold it. Carefully. Like a baby bird.”
Alucard was hyperventilating now, jerking the steering wheel. “Hold Nate’s sweaty balls! Like a baby bir—”
A sudden burst of gunfire cut him off. He swerved forcefully, causing my gut to tighten. But Aria clutched her… magical sphere protectively in one hand. Sonya didn’t need any more encouragement, the gunfire reminding her that time was of the essence. She closed her eyes as she slid her hand over the sweaty flesh, and carefully grasped my ball— magical sphere.
I let out a sigh of relief, motioning for them to hand them to me. Carefully. They did, and then leaned back with a shiver, each wiping their hand on the seat as they gagged. Yahn wore a weak grin, the gunfire slightly diminishing his cheerful mood. But like a puppy, that didn’t last long, his enthusiasm shining through the storm of gunfire and high-speed car-chases. He peppered the girls with questions in his high-pitched voice. I began climbing back into the front seat, but my pistol was in the way. I wasn’t keen on experiencing genital relocation surgery in a moving car.
Tiny Gods: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 6 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 1
