My voice was raspy, and I glanced up to see that Othello’s eyes were full of concern. “What… what was that?” I croaked.
Hope watched me intently. “The price for vengeance. And now it’s time for you to leave.” She added sadly.
I looked down at my watch, noticing the time and cursed under my breath. Sixteen minutes. Othello looked from me to Hope. “What? We haven’t gotten what we came for. We haven’t even discussed it with you.” A faraway look abruptly replaced her agitation. “Yes, we are late. It’s time for us to leave.” I nodded, understanding her urgency to leave on a slightly different level than last time I had been booted out. I was semi-aware of not really wanting to leave yet, but I still found myself traipsing out of the mysterious Armory.
“I hope to see you soon, my host.” Hope’s soft voice carried through the vast hallways in a faint echo. The door slammed shut behind us with a resounding boom.
Chapter 23
I t had taken Othello a few minutes to calm down, pounding on the door in a fury. Now she followed me out of Temple Industries, using a different path than our entrance. I didn’t feel like running into Greta again, and I also wanted to use a different exit in an effort to thwart anyone who might have tailed us here. She was still grumbling as she followed me. “That was totally pointless. So you watched a memory of a great hero. How does that help us? She knew we were on borrowed time. You knew we were on borrowed time. Why did you let her touch you?”
I glanced over my shoulder, just as frustrated as her. “She said she wanted to show me something. How was I supposed to know it would take as long as it did? I thought we would have plenty of time.” But now we didn’t, and night this time of year was rapidly approaching. Which meant that another flavor of supernatural in my city was about to be murdered by the Demons. Since I hadn’t turned over the Key to the Armory, I would have to have to live with another death on my conscience.
And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
I didn’t even have a clue as to where to start. But I knew I could use the artifact Hope had first given me. At least that would let me pinpoint out a few locations, and then I could choose at random, hoping I was correct. It was life or death. If I didn’t guess correctly, an innocent died. A gamble, and I never was much for throwing dice.
High stakes, but the alternative was even higher. Let the Demons or their summoner — which was most likely worse — have access to potentially unlimited power. We sauntered out of the building via a side exit, which was actually closer to her car. I saw a pale slip of paper flapping in the chill wind and raced for it. It was tucked under her windshield wiper. I unfolded it as Othello wiggled nervously from foot to foot.
“Vampire.” I spoke aloud.
Othello leaned in, reading the single word. “Subtle, aren’t they?” She spat onto the asphalt. I tossed her the keys.
“You drive. I’m going to try to hone in on any Demonic activity in the city, see if we can find an exact location. If we aren’t too late like last time.” I muttered angrily as Othello turned the key and revved the engine. When I rubbed the artifact over the map in my car and whispered the word Seek under my breath, the scarlet smoke settled on three locations. The mausoleum where my parents’ bodies rested, Plato’s Cave, and Chateau Falco. I sighed. The Demons were taunting me. First it had been an apartment complex I had helped finance. Now they were going to murder a vampire — likely in the most gruesome of ways — on another location that led to me. To poke my rage. I recalled the memory of Achilles in a new light, feeling myself being pushed dangerously close to the same ledge he had stood on, where he had jumped off into an inferno of vengeance that ultimately led to his death.
I squinted, trying to think like a Demon. Which location? Othello was tapping the steering wheel, letting out a soft whistle as she saw my options. “Which would hurt more?” I asked myself. My ancestral home, Plato’s Cave — my baby, my very own creation. Or the final resting place of my every ancestor. It seemed pretty obvious. They had killed my parents. Of course they would mock them in death.
“Bellefontaine Cemetery.” I growled.
Othello nodded once, placing a calming hand on my thigh, and then shifted into gear, peeling out in the parking lot.
I cracked the window as we drove towards the cemetery, desiring to feel the brisk air in an effort to cool my fury. It didn’t help, especially since about a million cars stood between us and our destination. I resigned myself to waiting, using the time to try and center myself. Which was the opposite of easy. The Demons were about to desecrate my one place of peace, and the final place of peace for my parents — whom the Greater Demon, Sir Dreadsalot, had killed. It seemed the obvious choice, but I honestly didn’t know if I was right. All three places were vitally important to me for different reasons. What if I was wrong? I pondered this for what seemed like days, but was more likely an hour as we wove through traffic, willing to risk dinging the Lincoln if others didn’t get out of our way fast enough. This added time only seemed to allow my rage to build upon itself, which wasn’t good. I needed to be smart, cool, calm, and collected. I had limited power and was about to go toe to toe with a big meanie. I couldn’t afford emotions right now.
We finally arrived at the cemetery, and I used my fob to open the gates. Having helped them refinance some renovations, I was allowed my own key. Also so I could visit whenever I felt the need. I jumped out of the car the moment we parked. I could hear Othello’s feet racing to keep up with me as I ran to the Temple Mausoleum, dodging headstones and piles of snow. The frosty winter landscape eliminated the need for light as the moon rose higher and the night crept closer.
I scanned the cemetery, searching, questing for Demonic presence as well as the more mundane footsteps in the snow. I smelled nothing, saw nothing, and the night was silent. Frustrated, I began stalking the perimeter of the mausoleum, ignoring the beautiful carvings and statues for once. Othello followed me, eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. I circled the entire building, and then focused on the large locked entrance. No one had been inside. There were no tracks, and there was no way for anyone to bypass such modern technology — especially a Demon. The building was warded against it.
“This doesn’t make sense. They should be here. It’s the worst place they could kill someone. The most cruel.” Othello stayed silent. I pulled out the artifact and the map in my pocket, activating its power. There was no Demonic presence at the cemetery. I blinked. Had I just imagined it, or was this some kind of diversion? Or were they already done killing the vampire? I sighed in defeat, knowing that I had to use my power to see if anything had happened here. I calmed my racing thoughts and quested out with magical feelers. Another spell I had developed recently was a way to detect any freak’s presence… and even a way to detect any recently dead presences. My magical feelers scouted the entire cemetery, and I could sense my power being used up, never to return again.
But there was nothing. No recently murdered body. It had been a ruse, or I had imagined it.
“What are you two doing here?” An authoritative voice asked from only a few feet behind me. I released my feelers and turned to the voice, jumping slightly to the side in case they were about to attack. My spell hadn’t picked up on the voice.
As I turned, I saw a familiar face. Gavin.
“I own this building. What the hell are you doing here?” I challenged.
Gavin appraised both of us curiously before answering. “Following you, of course. Why did you come here? Was it because of the Demonic presence a short while ago?”
I continued to stare at him.
“They are long gone. They merely came to scout your family mausoleum, and then left. They did nothing other than look, or I would have exorcised them.”
“Here’s an idea. Perhaps, if you see Demons, you exorcise first and ask questions later.” I snapped.
“Not in my job description.” He answered coolly.
“Figures. Don’t do anything to aid
they guy you’ve crippled, that way you can look better when things go to hell.”
Gavin’s eyes lowered at that. “It’s not like that.”
“Of course it is. You see a fucking Demon, you exorcise it. It’s really not that complicated. Demons are bad news. Help out a bit, or get the fuck out of my way.” My vision was red. This was ri-god-damned-diculous. Here I was, trying to keep my city free of Demons while my parole officer was basically giving them free rein to do as they pleased, waiting for me to fail when said parole officer could have easily deterred them. But no, they wanted to be able to tell their superiors that I had failed. Not mentioning the small fact that they had taken away the necessary weapons I would need to prove my innocence. I knew that fact would never appear in an official report.
“You understand how crazy this is, right, Gavin? You took away my power, then expect me to banish all the Demons, while you sit safely on the sidelines ready to accuse me the moment I fail… the moment I fail as a direct result of you limiting my ability to stop the carnage.” Gavin’s eyes lowered… slightly. “You have literally set me up to fail. I am still out here risking my life despite the fact that you have taken away my only weapons… or severely limited them. How can you honestly say it’s fair that I’m guilty if I fail, when the only reason I might fail is because I don’t have the juice to keep fighting?”
“Then give up the Key.” He snapped in exasperation, realizing how ridiculous his charge was. I hoped.
“Why would I give up the Key to a group of power hungry old men who are actively allowing chaos to take over my city? You understand how ludicrous that sounds, right? It’s called extortion.”
Gavin stared daggers at me for a few moments before giving up and nodding a single time. “Yes.” It sounded like he was pulling his own teeth to say so. “I know it seems ludicrous, but you are harboring a dangerous cache of weapons that belongs to the Academy. The only group able to support and protect mankind from annihilation.” It sounded rehearsed, and I could tell he knew it.
“The same group that is allowing innocents to die in order to prove a point, right? The ones who set me up on a suicidal mission to prove my innocence. I’ve even recruited a regular to help me because I’m so desperate. Yet you and Jafar wait for me to fail rather than help. How is that justice?”
Gavin’s gaze dropped lower, but he didn’t voice his agreement. I knew Othello wouldn’t take my comment personal. She was just as angry as I was, judging by the fact that she had commanded me to kill them all.
“If you are just going to sit on the sidelines and wait for me to fail, you might as well join me. It won’t be long now. My power is not lasting as long as I would have hoped. I’m spent. But I will press on because there is no one else to do so. Because you, sir, are a fucking coward.”
His shoulders hitched, but I turned my back on him.
“Time to leave,” I spat to Othello. “Let this vulture do as he will. I’ll be dead soon, and probably deemed guilty for all of this despite fighting until my last ounce of effort. Even you are more of a Knight than this… ignorant child.”
I turned to go, Othello following me. I was suddenly slammed into a headstone shoulder first, and then I flipped over it, landing painfully on the other side. “How dare you.” Gavin growled. I grinned to myself as I climbed to my feet, rubbing my aching shoulder. I hadn’t heard it crack. Othello immediately drew her pistol and fired. I didn’t even flinch. I wonder what that says about me.
But then again, neither did Gavin. The bullet stopped a millimeter from his face. He didn’t even blink, never moving his glare from the tombstone as I appeared over the side. I showed him my wolfish smile. “Perhaps you aren’t as much of a little bitch as I thought, although your string is still showing.” I pointed at his crotch. He didn’t look, but Othello laughed darkly.
PMS jokes between men were great.
“Now, if you are done being a pawn, it’s time for us to go and stop the Demons.”
Gavin’s icy gaze remained frozen on me for a few moments before nodding. I began walking away, and he followed without flipping me over another tombstone. Baby steps.
Manly baby steps.
I rolled my shoulder discreetly, glad that it was only slightly sore. It would have been just super if he would have managed to dislocate it. But the risk had been worth it. Causing him to lose control again helped me prove a point. Hopefully made him doubt his creed just enough to assist me. And it seemed to have worked. Othello opened the door and I flicked my head at the other car that I assumed Gavin had driven since it hadn’t been there when we parked. “We will follow you.” I told her. She shot me a calculating gaze as if asking if that was wise. “It’s probably not my smartest move, but I need to talk to him on the way and I don’t think he will stick around for very long.” She nodded once. “To Plato’s Cave. At least if I’m wrong I can grab a few things, check up on the place.” I could sense Othello wasn’t happy at all with the situation. We had just been duped by the Demons. Either they had lured me here to give them more time elsewhere, or I had been totally incorrect and the Demon had just coincidentally been scouting out the mausoleum at the same time another Demon was murdering a vampire. I wasn’t a big fan at the fact that this was the second murder being committed on soil that would directly link to me. I wondered if there was a reason for that or if they were just trying to drive home a point.
Othello drove away angrily.
Gavin climbed into the driver’s seat. It was a Crown Victoria. A typical police car. I grumbled about it as I climbed into the cesspool of mediocrity. “It’s not that bad.” He stated flatly, not agreeing with my vehicular taste. “And this doesn’t mean we are on the same side.”
“Hopefully it means you are intelligent enough to realize that you are on the wrong side. Even if it’s not my side, I hope you see that your current side is following the opinion of a bunch of fucking imbeciles.”
Gavin chuckled lightly before realizing it, and then abruptly cut off the sound as he followed Othello through the darkening streets. His eyes were lost in thought. “Maybe.” He answered.
“The Demons are going to kill a vampire. In a place that directly relates to me.” I spoke clearly, hoping it wouldn’t end our alliance.
He nodded, not exactly with any interest, but accepting of the fact.
I decided to play my card.
“What do you really know about my parents’ project? This Armory?”
“Just that it was a cache of objects they deemed too dangerous to fall into the hands of the all-powerful Academy. The same Academy that provided them with safety for so many years. I find it hard to agree with your perception of them. I know they have room for improvement, but I do not believe the Academy to be evil.”
I nodded. “I can understand that. I have to be honest though. This Armory, as you call it, is news to me. I only recently discovered it. It seems to be the reason my parents were murdered. Coincidentally, the Academy showed up almost immediately, demanding access. You can see my cause for concern. I hope.”
Gavin nodded in resignation. “Timing. If they could show up when they did, why not sooner?”
I nodded. “Exactly my point. But it does make me wonder what, exactly, my parents were hiding. I understand the draw to power, but what does the Academy expect to find? Something specific? Or just power in general?”
Gavin shrugged. “Mayhap the Academy lost something once, and hope your parents managed to… acquire it?”
I shook my head. “I doubt it. My parents were no thieves.”
Gavin looked uncomfortable. “May I speak… freely, Master Temple?” I could tell that it pained him to address me by my title. I nodded. “The brief time I met your parents, they seemed to imply that they did… acquire some of their objects questionably. I make no accusation. Just speak the truth. I know that they did purchase quite a few objects as well, but when they felt necessary, they did resort to more nefarious methods in order to… protect the masses.” I shivered, rem
embering my father’s conversation on my 21st birthday, the only time the Pandora Protocol had been mentioned. I sighed. Perhaps Gavin had a point.
“Maybe. But I’m grateful you offered to help with this small Demonic inconvenience.”
“Will it be dangerous?” He asked, glancing at me curiously.
“Consider it your second interview…”
Gavin looked nervous but determined. “Okay.”
I needed his help. My power was fading faster than I had thought. I was also a target to the mysterious Nephilim that Hemingway and the Demon had mentioned, of which I luckily hadn’t directly tussled with yet. Even if they had tried to throw me to the wolves. I also didn’t want to risk Othello. Screw it. Gavin seemed torn on his allegiances. Trial by fire then. I needed to test his mettle. If he wanted to find the good side and ease his conscience, then he needed to earn that trust.
“Do you have a safe word?” I asked him as we continued following Othello. Gavin looked really uncomfortable for a few moments.
“Um, what kind of second interview did you have in mind? Because I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. I’m not into-”
I chuckled darkly. “Not that kind of safe word. Things might get, not to keep the pun going,” I winked, “but… hairy. I was just curious on what kind of tolerance you have for fear.” Gavin relaxed instantly.
“Ah. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve sought out plenty of danger in my days. Even met a werewolf once. Filthy beast tried to kill me. Showed him.” He said proudly. I smiled guardedly.
“Well, my best friend is a werewolf, so be careful about your prejudices. But that’s good to hear. Wouldn’t want you freaking out in the middle of a… difficult situation.”
Blood Debts (The Temple Chronicles Book 2) Page 22
