I had no idea what power it was, or what element I was tapping into, but I didn’t care. But it made me very consciously aware of the coin in my pocket, wondering if they were connected. I dared not actually don the Mask, for fear of the Grimms copying me, creating dozens of Horsemen to fight off. I shivered at the thought.
Instead, I twirled the whips over my head like a helicopter, clearing room, satisfied with the exclamations of pain and burnt hair and flesh as the fire tore through anything biological.
I saw Ganesh honk his trunk at me, indicating a charred stripe across his back where I had hit him. But he was soon preoccupied, squaring off against two very wild looking Grimms. Well, they all looked wild – long, matted hair, greasy skin, and pale as ghosts. I suddenly realized that all the bad guys had pasty skin, both Grimms and Elders.
“Death to the Whiteys!” I shouted as I scanned the area for Indie.
Whether to kill her or save her, I wasn’t sure. But I knew I had to stop her first.
The two Grimms smiled at Ganesh, holding out their arms dramatically to attempt to shift into what they thought was a four-armed elephant shifter. Their looks of surprise were soothing to my soul, right before Ganesh lunged forward, impaling each of them on one of his bladed tusks. He reached out with his unarmed hands, and pulled them closer, down the length of the swords, and their agonized screams almost made me lose the contents of my stomach. Then Ganesh punched them each in the face with enough force to dislodge them from the blades. Their amulets hung from his bladed tusks, trophies of war.
And he stomped on, looking for more toy soldiers to dismember.
I ran through a sudden opening, quickly skidding on my knees to barely dodge friendly fire as one of the Myrmidons flashed out with his spear, catching a jumping Elder in the throat. I climbed to my feet, continuing my run, but almost immediately tripped over three dead bodies, landing face first onto an Elder that looked alarmingly similar to Carl. I flinched, jerking my eyes away, only to see an Elder sneaking up on one of the Myrmidons who had broken rank. I swung my hand behind me, and then brought it crashing forward until my fist pounded the earth. My whip screamed through the air, white sparks of fire cascading down around me, burning through the bodies I lay on, and then it cleanly sliced through the Elder like a hot knife through butter.
The Myrmidon spun, staring at the two halves of the Elder for a moment from beneath his helm. He glanced at my whips, followed them back to me, and then nodded in thanks. A sword abruptly tore through the front of his chest from his back, extinguishing the life from his eyes. The Grimm behind him didn’t even smile in satisfaction, his eyes locking hungrily onto me.
Helmut Grimm. And he had trimmed his beard into a perfect square, which looked absolutely stupid. He’d also found new clothes. Nothing fancy, but better than the homeless look I’d first seen him in. He now wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. And cowboy boots.
I climbed to my feet, snapping the tips of my whips on the ground in an alternating cracking sound, taunting him as I stared at him, hungry to avenge the murdered Greek. Helmut took one look at my whips, frowned, and then his sword was suddenly coated with a similar white flame. He was too astonished to even notice Achilles sneak up behind him and kick him square in the back, sending his sword flying. The white fire disappeared from the blade, and it was soon trampled under by a trio of Elders trying to fend off the rolling pack of wolves nipping at them in coordinated strikes.
I glanced up as something moved in my peripheral vision, only to see a tiny girl falling from the sky, and two dragons urgently flapping their wings to get away from the chaos, because two other red dragons exploded from the swarm of bodies – Grimms – launching up into the sky to fight off the two invading red dragons. My friends. I cursed under my breath as the small girl landed beside me, because I recognized her, and instantly knew who the two red dragons were.
The Reds. Sonya and Aria. Teenagers. And now they were fighting for their lives, up in the sky where I couldn’t reach them, against the same monsters that had killed their mother.
The blonde teenaged girl stood from her crouch, the ground a crater around her. Camilla. She was smiling as she shouted, “Heard you needed some air support!” And then she hunched over for a second, and her clothes exploded into tatters, releasing a chimera where the cute girl had been. The cobra that was her tail arched up over her back, spraying venom at some attackers I couldn’t see because she stood in my way. I heard a triumphant shout behind me, and dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a big ass battle-axe that buried itself in the dirt where I had been standing. The Grimm heaved, trying to pull it free, then let it go, grinning down at me as I scurried back on all fours, trying to find a safe spot to climb to my feet and use my whips. The man held up two palms, balls of identical white fire like my whips roiling in the air.
But before he could launch them at me, he was suddenly sprayed with a fine green mist, and I watched as his skin instantly began to melt and bubble. Then a bar of fire as thick as my torso struck him, incinerating him before he had a chance to scream. I turned to see the lion-head on the chimera’s chest cough once, extinguishing the flame that had poured out from her mouth. The cobra tail swayed back and forth behind his back, scanning the scene. Then the goat head bleated, nodding at me, and the chimera charged off on all fours into the thickest of the battle.
I climbed to my feet, careful not to trip again as I ran, searching for Indie. Explosions roared up from the earth on either side of me as I moved, and I distinctly heard the sound of blade on blade as I raced past Achilles and Helmut, going head to head, moving like shadows and snakes, dodging, striking, and laughing.
Having the times of their lives.
Chapter 66
I slashed more bodies than I could count; yet there were still so many of them. The warriors were instinctively shifting the tides of battle because they were sick and tired of tripping over the corpses – and were now relocating close to where Pan – Mallory – had thrown Indie.
I saw Elders fighting Elders, Grimms fighting Elders, Grimms against Grimms, even three red dragons up in the sky fighting one, which meant one of them had been hit by Pan’s blast of bloodlust, or Panic, and the Reds had gained a temporary new ally.
The chaos made things a hell of a lot easier for me as I slipped through the crowd. I didn’t want to waste any more power than necessary, because I needed to stop Indie, who had access to a Maker’s power, way stronger than my own, but I was the only spell-slinger available.
I caught sight of Pan desperately clawing at the door, swinging his club at a few Elders and Grimms that tried to dart out between his legs, like he was playing whack-a-mole, but there were too many moles, and he couldn’t focus on closing the door as they continued to pour out.
“Myrmidons, protect Pan! Help him close the damn door!” I shouted as a trio thundered past me. They nodded in acknowledgment and shifted course, heading his way.
I turned to see Indie standing before me, a stone pyramid in one fist, and bleeding from a cut on her head. She stood uncomfortably, as if either her legs or her side had been injured, and she was putting all her weight on the one leg.
She stared at me, eyes gripping my soul, eyes I had fantasized waking up to every morning. Eyes I had imagined saying good night to every time I went to bed.
She glanced at my shirt, a small amused smirk emerging on her face.
“God save the Grimms?” she asked, eyes taking in the war around us. Then she looked back at me. “Or just one Grimm?” she asked, as she slowly began sauntering closer, whips of white fire erupting from her fists, just like mine. She didn’t necessarily have to hold them, as they were just extensions of her hands. So, she didn’t let go of the strange pyramid-shaped stone.
Which looked very familiar to me for some reason.
She glanced down at the whips with interest, cracking them to either side of her for a moment. Then she slowly lifted her eyes to mine. “Nice upgrade.”
“Indie, you can
stop this. All of this. Let me help you. Let me tell you the truth!” I shouted, desperate. She just stared back, but she had stopped advancing. Then her face became angry again as two wolves lunged at her.
With a flick of her wrist, they died instantly, the white whips ripping them in half. She lifted her hands until a large dome of magic surrounded us. Well, us, Helmut, and Achilles, who seemed not to notice, too entranced with their own fight, which had moved to spear on spear.
Indie cleared her throat. “There, that’s better.”
And she began to walk closer, slamming her whips to the ground beside her, shaking the earth as she neared me.
“Indie, for the last time, STOP! I don’t want this!”
“Mama has an owie. Won’t you kiss it and make it better?” She cooed in a playful tone, pouting her lips. But her eyes weren’t playful.
Not at all.
I flung my hand out, whipping the white fire towards her face. Her eyes momentarily flashed in surprise that I had attacked first, but I saw them shift to anticipation an instant later as she brought her own whip up to block.
Our whips touched. We… crossed swords.
And we both went flying in opposite directions, our whips extinguishing instantly.
I tumbled and rolled on my ass, banging my head against the head of some dead dude, making me see stars.
But as I opened my eyes, I was very thankful for the blow. Because it had slowed me down. Because I was only a hair’s width away from my nose piercing the dome of power Indie had thrown up around us, and it thrummed with deadly electricity, my hair standing on end in warning. I saw through the dome as I yanked my head back. Several bodies littered the ground, still breathing, but eyes wild. No doubt electrocuted as they tried to break through the dome.
I scooted back and climbed to my feet, just as someone backed into me, knocking me down again. I rolled away, fearing it had been Indie, only to feel a boot slam down, trying to squish my melon, missing me by inches. Helmut cast an angry glare down at me from his missed strike, but Achilles unleashed on him, keeping him busy. He had simply tried a crime of opportunity as I flew into their path.
“Get your head in the game, Temple!” Achilles snarled in a strained voice from beneath his helm, but he didn’t look at me. I found my hand resting on an odd shaped hunk of rock, and without looking, I picked it up as I stood, eyes locking on Indie.
She was on all fours, scrambling across the ground, looking for something, but she was moving oddly. Then I saw it. She was missing one of her hands, leaving just a nub behind.
“Indie!” I yelled, hurling the rock the moment before I had called out her name, reacting on instinct, and hating myself for it.
She jerked her neck in my direction, trying to see what magic I would throw at her so she could respond in kind and not have another white power explosion.
Heh.
And the rock struck her right in the temple, knocking her to the ground as she fell on her side. The rock landed right in front of her face, and she stared vacantly at it, stunned. The dome of power disappeared with a static popping sound, and the sounds of battle grew instantly louder.
I ignored this, focused only on the fact that I saw her chest rise and fall.
I let out a breath of relief. She was still alive.
I hadn’t killed her.
As I ran towards her, my eyes settled on the lucky stone I had thrown.
It was shaped like a pyramid. My projectile had been the stone I saw her holding earlier. The Hand of God. And I suddenly remembered where I had seen one very similar to it.
In the Temple Mausoleum. The statue of my mother had been holding one just like it.
But I didn’t have time to think on that, because Indie’s eyes had refocused, latching onto it, and her shaking hand was slowly reaching towards it, but as if she was having trouble using it.
“Closed!” I heard Pan bleat in the distance. I scanned my surroundings, hoping I wasn’t about to be overrun now that the dome of protection was down, and the Grimms saw their new boss wounded. A rally.
But I gasped to see most of the enemy down. Ashley limped, two paws injured, and a heavy gash decorated her side, but Gunnar prowled beside her, guarding her from the few survivors.
Everyone was wounded, I realized, as my gaze made a full, quick circle. But the dome was no longer a concern, because a ring of Greek steel blocked anyone from coming my way. Achilles even had Helmut on his knees, a spear pierced through his shoulder, and a sword to his neck, keeping him still. Helmut looked to be in severe pain, but he stared defiantly at Achilles, and Achilles stared right back, neither moving.
But I couldn’t worry about any of that right now. I turned back to Indie, slowly raising my hands in a peaceful gesture as I approached. I didn’t want her trying to kill me out of self-defense, thinking I was rushing to kill her.
“None of this is what you think. What he let you think,” I whispered, close enough for her to hear me, wondering if Ichabod had truly set all this up, taking me out to dinner to simply cause me enough doubt to give him enough time to act. To put Indie in place to sabotage me, knowing my wards had been down at the house. To get a HOG from the Elders.
Or Indie had gone rogue, deciding to wake a god herself. And the result had just been a string of coincidences. But none of that really mattered right now.
I met her eyes as her surviving hand continued crawling across the earth in fitful jerks, trying to grasp the pyramid. She even used her nub to help support her questing arm. But I wasn’t worried about the stone right now. She couldn’t use it, or she would have done so in the beginning. She just needed to get it to Ichabod. And he was a little preoccupied at the moment, judging by the explosions still booming near the Arch.
But why did he need two HOGs? He already had one. Unless… he’d been lying… And Rumps had been lying. Cindy Syndicate hadn’t actually confirmed that they had indeed lost any of their two HOGs… And the Fae had said theirs was safe. Which meant the Fae had sensed the Elder’s HOG switching hands almost instantly, and had sent the sprites to warn me… It had just taken Dean too long to warn me about Indie’s escape. Enough time to let her do all this.
“What happened to the woman I loved?” I pleaded, slowly advancing, unable to kill her without an answer.
Her gaze locked onto me, right as her hand touched the pyramid. The stone began to glow, infusing her with strength as she shivered in response. Shit. I should have worried about the stone. Then she slowly began to sit up, never looking away from me.
And I saw that her eyes were filled with tears.
Power roared through her, giving her enough strength to climb to her feet, although not healing her hand. The sounds of battle were gone, everyone watching, but I caught flashes of light and peals of thunder in the distance.
In the direction of the Arch.
Then she gave me my answer, as everyone watched.
Chapter 67
She spoke through a dry throat, full of both internal and external pain, despite the stone partially healing her.
“She fell in love with a magical boy. A boy fast on his way to becoming a glorious, splendid man. She lost her life, and was brought back as a Freak, because the boy had loved her enough to convince Death himself to save her. The boy hadn’t even needed to ask, because Death was his brother…” she whispered, eyes never leaving mine as a vortex of light slowly began to coalesce above her head.
“Indie, stop,” I whispered, white whip erupting into existence at my side.
She paid it no mind as she continued to speak, the power building above her. “War came, and she discovered that her new enemies wanted vengeance. After a small victory, she went off to train, to come back to her beloved and help him fight back the storm. While away—” she paused, letting out an unintentional sob, opening her mouth to continue, but no sound coming out.
Tears painted my cheeks, distorting my vision, and what remained of my heart felt like it was slowly burning away to nothing, and t
he whip in my fist grew stronger, more powerful, wilder as my raging emotions fed it, nurtured it, urging me to kill this woman I had once loved.
Indie shook her head angrily, wiping away her tears with her mostly cauterized bloody nub, painting her cheeks crimson. “While away, her mother was… brutally murdered,” she finally managed.
And I fell to my knees.
She watched me without mercy, nodding slowly as the power began to grow above her, shooting bars of light up into the sky. Thunder and lightning responded from above a suddenly thick blanket of clouds above us. Angry, darkening clouds.
“A sticky note found on her chest said love you #Syndicate,” she whispered.
A sticky note. Just like the one I had found at the Gala. From Cindy.
“Her mentor carried her through this crisis, and became her ally against a common enemy. The boy she once loved wanted to save the world with half measures. Second guessing himself at every turn. Because he thought he knew pain…”
“Indie,” I rasped. “None of this will change that,” I tried, but she cut me short.
“Now the girl is lost in a dangerous world full of monsters, hungry only to avenge her mother. She has lost the ability to ever love again…”
The tears openly falling down her cheeks mixed with the blood, forming a curtain of red, as if she was crying blood. I heard Helmut let out a soft sob behind me, as if against his will, and as I risked a glance, I saw that even Achilles was staring, dumbfounded at Indie.
“But the story isn’t over,” Indie continued, a haunted smile on her face. “The girl chose to wake a god to make everything right.” She slowly lifted her eyes to the light show above her, calling out, “Goodbye, magical loverboy.”
And the world exploded in a flash of light so bright I thought I had been blinded.
Chapter 68
Tiny Gods: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 6 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 34
