The monks were now carefully meditating as they walked through the building, floorboard by floorboard, to bless the space per my desires. I wanted my shop to be a safe haven for Freaks and Regulars alike. Those savvy to the supernatural scene, and also those who weren’t. I catered to anyone looking for a spot to relax and read, game, or grab a cup of coffee. Everyone needed a place to gather their thoughts. And oftentimes, we supernaturals needed a space where we could pretend the world didn’t hate or fear us. Not that we were officially real or anything, but enough people had seen video footage of unexplainable events – magic – and were very vocal about it being demonic or evil. Oftentimes, all they needed was a minute to catch their breath, and maybe even let their freak flag fly if the clientele were of their ilk that particular day.
Even though no one believed our powers were real, they still found ways to subconsciously wield hatred against us outcasts.
Plato’s Cave would fix that.
Indie studied the space with a thoughtful smile, but also a wistful one. Ever since her ordeal – becoming a Grimm – she couldn’t spend time around supernaturals. She had no control, and frequently hulked out, transformed, or grew instinctively aggressive when any freak came within striking distance. It was in her blood now. Or in the amulet that kept her alive, at least. She had the instinctual need to hunt down freaks. And her body was wired to do that by duplicating the power of whatever freak squared off against her. Problem was, no one was squaring off against her, but she was still reflexively hulking out to do battle anytime she got a whiff of freak. Child, grandmother, or college kid. Didn’t matter.
And, of course, they reacted right back.
After all, Grimms were the bane of our existence. Our very own Boogeymen.
It was like lighting a match while pumping gas.
So, she couldn’t be around us Freaks.
Which meant she couldn’t manage my store.
Which bothered her to no end. She was the woman behind the past success of the store, and so, constantly berated Alucard’s mismanagement at every opportunity. It wasn’t his fault. She would have done the same to me. It wasn’t that we were doing it wrong.
It was that she wasn’t managing it.
I understood that. And sympathized. But I couldn’t have brawls breaking out five times a day. Especially when I was trying to market it as a safe haven for freaks. Not even counting the regulars who suddenly saw fights straight out of a Harry Potter flick jump right into the aisle next to them.
Still, accommodating Alucard hadn’t been a simple task either.
You know, because he was a vampire.
And the store was open during the day…
Queue the installment of UV tinted windows.
A designated section for anything even remotely related to religious artifacts.
And a crew of employees who had to handle every single customer interaction.
Because, well, he was a vampire.
And he fed off mortal blood. Which meant that he worked at a constant buffet table where the customers were the food.
For the thousandth time, I contemplated hiring a new manager.
Then Alucard walked in, the drone from earlier clutched in his fist, forgotten. It must have been sitting outside the door from when I had sent it home. The vampire’s face was a thundercloud seeking to send a bolt of lightning down on me after my prank. But the rage suddenly washed away like a doused fire as he took in the vibe from the store, and the look of pride that split his cheeks into a grin was bright enough to give even my evil heart a little flutter of emotion.
Home, the look said. Without really looking, he took a few steps inside, and set the drone down beside a potted plant, eyes studying the store proudly. He caught my look and glanced down at the drone. “Looks like it got clipped by something. An arrow maybe?” I nodded, hoping it hadn’t been damaged too badly. It was my last one.
After the Grimm ordeal, he had been labeled an associate of mine, which didn’t fly well with his fellow vampires who had been contracted to take me out. Vampires and Wizards were not friends. Regardless of the fact that I was, technically, no longer a wizard. Semantics. I used magic of some flavor, so for all intents and purposes, I was still a wizard. An enemy.
Which meant Alucard was now an outcast. And since he had literally saved our bacon on a handful of occurrences, and chosen my side over his own people, I felt like I owed him.
But…
He couldn’t even check the mail! All thanks to my former employee, Greta, wanting to save my soul from the devil’s clutches. She had received a pile of money for being a loyal employee of Temple Industries before everything went to hell. I felt I had owed her too, and look what it got me. A daily reminder that I needed the Almighty’s assistance.
But I doubted He would knowingly reach out to lend me a hand. I wasn’t the best kind of guy. Hell, I wasn’t even a good guy. At least I didn’t feel like I warranted that title. I had even gone head to halo with a few of His Angels, and I knew exactly what they thought of me. So, no. I doubted I would be welcomed into His house with open arms anytime soon.
Which was fine. I would simply stick to helping those I could, and hope that He understood my intentions, if not my methods.
“Incoming,” Indie murmured, eyes squinting in preparation as she delved into a calm meditative state to hopefully prevent any outbursts of her power. I quickly slung my satchel off into the depths of the store, using my power as a Maker to shield it from detection. “I’m going to the back of the-”
“No one go nowhere,” a demanding voice boomed as my door was kicked open, limning three figures standing outside in the rain.
Chapter 6
Alucard murmured, “Well, that’s not confusing,” making me smile briefly.
Thankfully, the ogres didn’t hear him. They were each easily seven feet tall. And their faces were grotesquely misshapen things, full of old scar tissue, like a toad who had stepped out of a life in the boxing ring. One of them was entirely clean shaven, and another one was a mass of hair, his wild locks and beard connecting on his neck so that he looked to be sporting a mane. The leader sported a gold hooped earring as big as his bulbous nose, and was bald-headed with a short thick beard. He flexed his fists, each the size of a toaster, emitting deep popping sounds under his flesh.
They strode inside on size nineteen boots as I placed a calming hand on Indie’s wrist, sending a bit of my power into her to calm her racing heart. She took a breath and nodded before pulling away. She continued to take measured breaths, careful to keep as much distance as possible from the ogres.
“So, you guys ready to make a deal?” I asked politely.
Alucard paced quietly off to the side, eyeing the guests as he coldly motioned towards a set of couches that were possibly large enough to hold the ogres. If they used one each. No share-sies.
“Why so wet, little fang?” The leader growled in a baritone.
Alucard bristled. “Because it’s raining outside, Shrek.”
I cleared my throat at the two of them before either did something stupid. I didn’t want the ogres getting too close to us. Who knew what kind of senses they had. Despite my illusion spell, perhaps they could scent us with their wild Fae magic. I had attempted to remove all sensory evidence of our presence at their warehouse, but you never knew. Also, I wasn’t as skilled with my new powers as I had been as a wizard.
So, this was a pretty big risk. But a necessary one. I thought. I hoped.
“You bring the book?” I asked, leaning against a bookshelf near the couches. One of the ogres was sniffing the air curiously with a frown on his face. He grunted once and the leader looked at him sharply.
I snapped my fingers. “Hey, ugly. I asked you a question. I don’t like sharing a room with you any more than I like hanging out in a Port-a-Potty. Let’s conclude this transaction. I have the money. Do you have the book?”
The lead ogre glared back for a beat. “What’s yer interest in book?”
> “That’s none of your business. We had a deal. Are you reneging? A fairy?” I added, knowing that fairies could not break their word when spoken outright. It crippled their powers.
He scowled, chewing over his words. “No. No deal break. New party want book bad.”
I straightened, feigning indignation. “No. We had a deal. I don’t care if you got a better offer.”
He growled, pointing at his hairy ear. “If Grug hear better offer, Grug listen. Tell wizard first. Wizard get last chance to counter.” I scowled back.
I nodded. “First right of refusal,” I clarified. Grug nodded. “So, what’s the new price?”
He watched me. Intently. His shoulders rolled forward. And his compatriot kept on sniffing the air, seeming very interested in something. Alucard’s shoulders hunched in anticipation of a fight. Indie was breathing heavily from the back of the room.
“No new price. Book… stolen,” he growled darkly. “Tonight.”
I relaxed, but kept my frown. “So, get it back. Your problem does not constitute my problem,” I warned.
“Two thieves. Nephilim. Flee with book.” The sniffing ogre’s interest drifted towards the front door where I caught sight of the drone peeking out from behind the potted plant. Shit. The ogre took a step closer, still not seeing it, but not even trying to pretend he was doing anything but sniffing.
The lead ogre glanced at his fellow and a dark grin split his scarred features. “What wizard hiding?”
“Nothing,” I answered, heart hammering in my chest. I could always make up a story about the drone. I wasn’t even sure how they had sensed it. Perhaps it was from the arrow nicking it.
He took a step forward. “Swear on power…” It wasn’t a question, but a command.
I swallowed and prepared to fight.
Someone cleared his throat from the staircase that led up to the loft, and everyone turned to find a stout little Tibetan man smiling at us. He was about five feet tall with pudgy cheeks, and the wisp of a weak goatee was the only hair on his head. He held his hands in his wide sleeves and spoke with that stupid grin still on his face as he descended the stairs to our level. Everyone froze for a minute.
“Your existence is abomination to whole world,” he said jovially, broken English and all, as he strode forward with a friendly smile still directed at the ogres.
The lead ogre threw off his cloak, revealing a massive muscular torso as he flexed his knuckles again in hungry anticipation. “Chinese food…” he growled, stepping forward, the wooden floor creaking alarmingly underneath his elephantine weight.
Indie began to shake violently, as she struggled against the tension in the room. She was about to hulk out. And I was about to have a dead monk in my store.
Shit.
And I had scheduled my hard launch grand opening for Plato’s Cave in the morning.
Chapter 7
The ogre pounded towards the tiny man, shattering and splintering my new wooden floor as well as several of my recently restored glass-walled dividers on his rampage. God damn it.
The ogre lifted his kitchen-appliance-sized fist over his thick head, and then brought it down towards the little monk standing calmly before him. The tiny man never stopped grinning.
The fist came within twelve inches of the monk’s face…
And a sphere of golden light flared into a perfect bubble around the monk’s body. It was blinding, but there was no explosion like I had expected at the sudden surge of power. Instead, the ogre’s hand disintegrated into golden motes of sparkling matter like a glitter bomb had gone off, and his pained howl shattered one of my new windows. Where his arm had bisected the light was now merely a stump of steaming flesh.
The monk’s goatee may have shifted a bit – just a tiny bit – in the breeze, but otherwise he didn’t move a millimeter. Even his smile still seemed genuine rather than smug. In fact, it almost appeared saddened at the result of causing pain.
“You are no Yeti,” he said in a calm voice. The ogre’s stump smoked where it had been instantly cauterized, and he whimpered deeply in very real, very severe pain as he knelt, head down on the floor of my shop. As if he had never imagined possible the level of pain just inflicted on him.
Then the hundred-pound monk casually touched the top of the ogre’s head.
And the two-thousand-pound fairy tale monster flew out the broken window before striking a lamppost, knocking it down into the street and eliciting a screech of tires as a public transit bus slammed on its brakes to avoid an accident. The ogre dissipated into a cloud of more golden sparkles, and then was gone. The monk merely looked at the other two ogres.
The two shared a look and instantly bolted out the door faster than I would have thought possible. The monk studied the wreckage with a slight frown of displeasure before meeting my astounded gaze. “Don’t worry. We fix.” Then he calmly lifted his robes as he stepped outside through the broken window to assist with the mess. The rain struck the dome surrounding the monk and rolled off, leaving him entirely dry.
The bus driver was shouting and pointing animatedly at my shop and the broken lamppost, but then the monk neared him and said a few words. The bus driver stopped shouting, looking bewildered for a moment. Then, one by one he gestured the passengers out of the bus and towards the tiny monk. They came out angry, terrified, and shaken. A few words from the monk and they were all smiles, shrugging their shoulders in relief that they were alright, and then they were on their way.
And none of them got wet from the downpour of rain.
What the hell?
The monk had juice!
I glanced over to find that Indie was passed out on the ground and Alucard was kneeling over her, looking alarmed. I raced to her side. “What happened?” I demanded, touching her face and checking for a pulse. It was there, but slow.
Alucard shrugged. “I have no idea. As soon as the monk did his happiness ball she blacked out.”
“She okay. She sleep. I calm her anxiety.” The monk murmured from over my shoulder. I flinched in surprise as Alucard flew back with a startled hiss.
I took a steadying breath. “She’s okay?”
He nodded, holding out a hand as if asking my permission to approach her. I nodded stiffly and the monk knelt over her, staring through her navel, her temples, and then her chest.
Chakras. He was studying her Chakras. In only a few seconds.
He touched her with one finger just above her heart and her eyes shot open. She blinked a few times and then stretched lazily, sheer contentment on her face. The monk nodded, smiled, then stood, taking a few steps back.
Alucard muttered in disbelief. “Just like that? You must be a fair friend to the ladies.”
“No ladies. Just Buddha,” he answered very literally, eyes still studying Indie. Then he blinked, glancing up at Alucard. “Oh, I see. I touch. She smile.” He chuckled. “Yes, fair friend to all, even abomination.” He smiled politely, despite the word used to address Alucard.
“Abomination!” Alucard growled.
The monk nodded, not catching his tone, and then addressed me. “We make fix. Tonight. No worry. Extra fix for abomination. He taint store.” He nodded several times in rapid succession, shot a quick happy wave at Indie (who blushed), and then folded his arms back into his sleeves before walking into the back of the store.
“I am not an abomination,” Alucard argued, loud enough for all to hear. “I’m one of the good guys.”
“Well, technically…” I began.
“Shut it, Temple,” he warned, eyes smoldering.
“Well, you are vegan now, so maybe you have a point,” I said. “How’s that going, by the way?”
“I’m hungry. Starving in fact, Little Brother.” I waited. He rolled his eyes. “I’m still on the bandwagon. Don’t worry.”
“Glad to hear it. We’ll figure something out,” I offered. Alucard had been off human blood for a few days now, sustained only by a black-market blood bank designed especially for vampires. But that
source was rapidly drying up, meaning that the sellers were steadily increasing the price now that they had him by the short hairs. We needed a better solution.
“What happened?” Indie asked softly, nervously staring about at the wreckage. “Where did the ogres go?” her eyes widened. “Did I…” I shook my head quickly.
“No, you didn’t do anything. The monk did. Then he Zen’d your ass. He’s apparently the Grimm whisperer,” I said, still awed at the raw power he had displayed. Both in subduing Indie and the ogres.
I helped her to her feet. “How do you feel?”
She stretched again, rolled her shoulders, and her eyes even seemed to shine with a smile. They were a little dark underneath, like she needed some rest, but that was understandable. She’d had a long night. “Better. So. Much. Better.” She looked at peace for the first time in weeks.
The door banged open and a voice rolled in. “I’m definitely framing that picture you just texted me, Nate,” the voice chuckled. “I hope you have something to drink.” Gunnar and Ashley stood in the doorway. Gunnar was a specimen of a man, a true Viking, only further emphasized by his now collar-length bushy beard and the long blonde hair tied up in a top-knot, the sides shaved. Also, the whole one-eye thing. His remaining eye was a glittering, glacial blue, but the other socket was simply sewn closed, now healed to reveal a soft patch of flesh. Three claw marks divided the empty eye socket and eyebrow into thirds.
And it was my fault he had lost it.
He was now the Alpha of the local werewolves, and his fiancé was a freshly-minted werewolf, still working on controlling her new lifestyle.
“He said eye,” Alucard chuckled, slapping his knees as Gunnar entered the store, Ashley hot on his heels. I smiled at my friend and saw an abrupt look of alarm paint his face. I flinched, spinning on a heel to protect my back from whatever he had seen coming at me.
But it was just Indie. Her eyes smoldered with smoky blackness, and she exploded into werewolf form, clothes erupting like confetti as she hunkered low. Her tawny brown fur bristled up her back like a Mohawk, as she growled menacingly at Ashley.
Silver Tongue: A Novel in The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 4) Page 3
