I opened my mouth to answer, and felt a sudden release of power deep inside my chest. I blinked at Baba, panting. But it hadn’t been her. My hand anxiously squeezed the silver headed eagle cane, but I sensed no power leaking from it. The gargoyles were arguing over a book behind me. “No, I haven’t read Through the Looking-Glass. Waste of time if you ask me… sequels never live up to the original,” one gargoyle snarled at the other. But I lost interest in their topic, let alone their presence in my shop, as the lights began to dim.
“What have you done, Baba?” I whispered, both angry, and terrified at whatever madhouse we were now in. Had she drugged me?
She grinned back. “I have done nothing. This is all you, Maker…”
I heard a horrible crowing sound from down below in the shop. And then a large crash. My pulse began to race. I had heard that sound before. But back then I had Gunnar with me. And we had barely been enough to handle it.
The demonic rooster horse from the Grimms’ prison. Baba began to laugh. “What have you done?” I hissed. “You swore to safe conduct. A truce!” I shouted.
She held up her hands. “I have done nothing, Maker. I swear it on my power. This Demon is all of your making…” She glanced pointedly at the now empty bottle of vodka before us, and I had a sudden chilling thought.
I felt power building downstairs, and left Baba in her chair as I stumbled out of the room to get a good look at my shop. Gunnar and Alucard stood on either side of a nine-foot-tall, demonic rooster horse, or what reminded me of the creature I had encountered years ago.
This one seemed bigger. Had more spikes and horns than the first one. Eyes of fire. And a terrifying cackle-like laughter bubbling from its beak. I flinched, tripped, and tumbled down the stairs as I saw Gunnar and Alucard dart in to kill the monster. My head cracked into a bannister, and my world abruptly zapped out like an old television turning off. Static filled my ears as I floated off into a sea of royal blue waves crashing relentlessly into each other by the forces of creation.
Baba’s laughter was the last thing I heard, like a ship’s horn on a foggy night at sea. Oh, and the sounds of battle, pain, and defeat from my friends… I was going to have a hell of a time convincing the inspector that Plato’s Cave was ready for business tomorrow morning.
Chapter 13
“What the hell did she do to him?” Indie asked.
“She didn’t do anything. I think he fell down the stairs,” Alucard whispered back. “Ow! Stop poking me, I’m fine. Look at Gunnar. He lost his friggin’ eye!”
“Ha. Ha,” he growled. “Hilarious.”
“So how did the Clydesdale from Hell get in the shop?” Indie pressed.
“I don’t know. One second we were sitting on the couch, waiting for Nate to wrap up his date, and the next the demonic rooster horse was suddenly standing beside us.”
“Demonic rooster horse?” Ashley asked, voice dripping with amusement at the name.
“That’s what Nate called it a few years ago,” Gunnar argued.
“Yeah, well, his hooves burned holes in the brand-new floors.” Indie’s voice grew quieter. “And it broke another of Nate’s glass-”
“God damn it…” I grumbled, taking a painful breath as I peeled open my eyes. My head throbbed, both from my tumble and the booze sloshing around in my now tender belly. I swallowed back quickly as I felt my stomach think about heaving. “Has anyone seen a pair of gargoyles around here?”
Everyone rushed to my side, poking, prodding, and squeezing me excitedly. “He’s okay!”
“I think he may have a concussion… did you guys hear him say something about gargoyles?” Gunnar asked softly.
“Hey, Thunderpup. I can hear you.” I checked the back of my head gingerly. I had a nice goose egg, but I didn’t feel particularly different from any other time I had been drinking hard. “I’m fine. Just a little drunk still,” I mumbled.
“How much did you and the little old lady drink?” Gunnar asked, tugging me into a sitting position.
I rubbed my neck, which was also tight. “A bottle.” Gunnar grunted in surprise. Indie merely looked concerned and thoughtful. I was on the couch, and the smell of sulfur hung heavy in the air. “Seriously, guys. I need to know…”
They merely stared back. The monk raised his hand. I hadn’t even noticed him. Everyone turned to stare at him raising his hand like a kid in a classroom. I smiled back, urging him to go ahead. “I find two gargoyle.” I almost jumped off the couch in excitement, but he held up a hand, halting me. “You swimmy head now.” He made a crazy look with his face, wiggling his fingers beside his cheeks like a lunatic, which caused everyone to burst out laughing. He beamed proudly at making everyone laugh. Then he turned back to me. “I show.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened his mouth. He let out a low, monosyllable chant that vibrated my soul like a subwoofer pressing against my back. My friends jumped at the sensation, then again, as two seemingly solid griffin statues burst to life with feral shrieks of anger. They perched on the windowsills of the loft above, and were all of two feet tall each, painted a rich reddish brown in hopes of blending in with the woodwork as decorative carvings.
I sighed. Sneaky monk. He turned to me, pointing over his shoulder at the enraged griffins, who were flaring out their wings as if to plummet at the monk’s unsuspecting back, which I couldn’t let happen. I snapped my fingers and the griffins flinched back as if in salute. They cocked their heads, staring at me with beady eyes, ruffled their feathers in displeasure, and then solidified again, once more appearing like carvings on the windowsill.
The monk beamed. “See? Gargoyle. Pretty gargoyle.”
I nodded back, not wanting to clarify. Those gargoyles weren’t the ones from the loft. Had they been in my head? Had Baba Yaga used some kind of illusion on me?
But no, the Demon rooster had been real. Gunnar and Alucard had fought the damn thing.
“You have mini Guardians here?” Ashley asked in disbelief. I smirked back. She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. I caught the words psychotic, crazy, dangerous, retarded… as she turned her back on me to go stand closer to the windowsill and squint up at them, even sniffing the air momentarily.
I cleared my throat. “No, that wasn’t my question…” Indie waited at my foreboding tone. “The dividers. Do I have any left?”
Indie rolled her eyes.
The monk piped up again. “I fix. All tip-top.” I smiled, practically ready to cry in both frustration, confusion, and relief that something at least had not gone to hell.
“Thanks, Cesar.” I mumbled.
“Cesar?” Ashley asked.
“The dog whisperer’s name is Cesar. Monk over here is the Freak whisperer,” I shrugged. The monk smiled back with a too-big grin. I wondered if he had any idea what I was talking about.
“Hey, how about the Baba Gooey creep?” Alucard interrupted. “Where did she go, and what did she want other than a private table in the VIP section with the wizard?”
“Baba Yaga,” Gunnar corrected. “And he’s a Maker, not a wizard…” Gunnar glared at Alucard. “You really are a horrible sidekick.” Alucard began to argue back, but Gunnar waved him off, smiling. “It is odd, Nate. Why did she want to speak with you? Why did you let her? And where the hell did she go? Did she summon that thing?” Then another worry hit him. “Are the Grimms coming back?”
I was already shaking my head, a sensation of guilt overwhelming me as I remembered her chilling warning at the end. I had summoned the monster. Not Baba. I just didn’t know how.
“The inspector will be here in the morning. We need to…” I glanced around the shop. It was in shambles. Broken floorboards, knocked over displays and shelves, broken glass everywhere, and sooty hoofmarks. “Clean up. At least a little bit…” I finally growled. “That means you, Alucard.” He began to protest, no doubt ready to remind me that much of the items within the store held spiritual powers as they were deemed religious artifacts by various practitioners. Voodo
o Dolls, Celtic Crosses, Crucifixes, Buddha and Shiva statues, and various other bric-a-brac. “Someone here will help if you ask nicely.”
“I help fix. Feng Shui broken. Need many incense,” The monk chattered.
Gunnar grunted. “Ashley and I have… business to attend to,” he answered somewhat ashamedly, but I knew he just didn’t want to clean. Ashley rolled her eyes, jabbing him in the belly playfully. He grunted in response.
“No one is going anywhere until I find out what the hell happened at the Auction House,” a voice called out from the front door.
“That’s it. Next person to walk through that door is getting vaporized, based purely on statistical odds,” I muttered.
Gunnar smiled at the familiar tone of our new guest. “Jeffries,” he turned. But Jeffries looked the opposite of pleased. “I had nothing to do with this,” Gunnar held up his hands, taking a step back as he caught the look.
Jeffries, FBI Agent and walking lie-detector scowled back as he saw that Gunnar was telling the truth. I had tested the man, and had been unable to shake him on numerous attempts. He was like a dog with a bone. No matter what tricks you thought you knew to get away with lying, Jeffries was immune. Of course, none of that held up in a court of law, so we typically met up to find more… vigilantic ways to handle criminals who had cheated the system. As long as they fell into my area of expertise. I wasn’t a hitman or anything. But he had done me some favors – and would likely do me many more in the future – so I went out of my way to help him whenever I could.
“I wasn’t there,” I smiled.
Jeffries scowled back. “That wasn’t my question…” He wiped his cowboy boots on my floor mat – a Don’t Tread on Me flag – and then seemed to notice the state of the shop for the first time. He studied his wet muddy boots again, lifted his head with an amused grin, and proceeded to track mud on the floor as he approached. I had to avert my eyes as I realized it mustn’t have been very long since I passed out, because I was still quite drunk.
“What. Happened.” He repeated himself, a no nonsense look on his face.
I opened my mouth, but Indie silenced me with a look. “He’s going to find out the truth eventually. At least this way he hears it from us first.” I sighed, nodding back with unspoken pride at her decision.
She turned to Jeffries. “I went to the auction to buy an item for the store,” she told him, and I hoped Jeffries didn’t catch on that it wasn’t technically for the store, but for a client. He didn’t interrupt, which I found odd. She watched him for a beat before continuing, then she suddenly averted her gaze and I caught the telltale flash of smoke and oil as her powers flipped on, releasing her Grimm talent. I tensed, ready for anything, but nothing happened. She merely made it look like she was crying, and even sobbed a bit, whether it was genuine or not, I couldn’t even tell.
“It’s okay. Just tell me what happened,” Jeffries said softly.
“It’s… I don’t know. The item came out, and the next thing I know a man entered and everyone fell to the ground, including me. I woke up some time later and it was gone. The book. And everyone was dead,” she concluded.
I blinked. Slowly. Either she hadn’t told me that last bit before, or she had just lied to Jeffries. I began to open my mouth, but Indie shot me a murderous flash of her Grimm eyes and my teeth clicked shut. Everyone waited, apparently following my lead.
“And that’s all you remember,” Jeffries pressed. She nodded. He sighed. “Well, did you happen to see the man’s face? I can get a sketch artist here in ten minutes.”
She shook her head. “He stayed in the shadows. The only reason I remember him is because he was the only one standing when everyone fell,” she sobbed softly again, sniffing her nose loudly.
“Okay. I’m glad you didn’t try to hide that you were there. I only barely convinced Special Agent in Charge Reinhardt to let me come here ahead of time, off the books. Because he’s seen my ability to get answers better than anyone else on the squad. We found your name on the guestbook.” He watched her. “I’m also glad you didn’t try to destroy the logbook. Like some might have done…” His eyes danced over to me briefly.
Gunnar let out a chuckle. I scowled at the two of them.
“I’m going to be honest with you up front, Jeffries. We’re going to be performing our own investigation into this. It might be best if your guys drop this. It might be… hinky.”
Jeffries merely shook his head with a frustrated sigh. “Not happening. Even if I wanted to. Reinhardt is on this one, and he’s like a dog with a bone. A dozen very… influential people died tonight. Even if he wanted to, he can’t drop it.”
I nodded. “Just fair warning. You guys might be in over your heads. Hell, we might be in over our heads.”
“Don’t worry, Jeffries. Nate’s used to that position,” Gunnar grinned.
“And I have a hell of a knack for getting out of them on top…” I shot back.
“What exactly do you think is going on?” Jeffries asked.
I shrugged. “Not sure, but one interested party already made an appearance,” I muttered, motioning towards the store’s current state of disrepair. I watched the whites of Jeffries’ eyes as he took in the hoof prints among the debris. Then he shook his head.
“No. never mind. I don’t want to know. Deniability.” I smiled. “I came here, questioned Indie, then left. Sound fair?”
Indie nodded, still facing away as she sobbed. “Thanks, Jeffries.” He smiled at her back and turned to leave. Gunnar followed him out. Alucard remained by the door like a bouncer, taking my previous threat of any more guests to heart, apparently. I rounded on Indie, touched her shoulder to let her know we were safe, and simply arched a brow.
“I told you the truth, Nate. There was no man. At least none that I recall…”
“Which means…”
She grinned darkly at me. “I’m the only one who can lie to Jeffries and get away with it.”
“Consider yourself our new liaison with the FBI.”
Her eyes grew distant, having shifted back to their normal hue. She grasped my hands in hers. “Nate… I need to figure out how to control my power. It’s a liability. With the right training, I could become an asset rather than a threat.”
I nodded back. “I know. We’ll figure it out. Just keep practicing your breathing. And carry some of that tea with you to go. Did it knock you out or were you just tired?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think it knocked me out. It just relaxed me. I didn’t feel drugged. And I feel fine now, which wouldn’t be the case if the tea had been drugged.” But she didn’t look fine. If anything, the circles under her eyes seemed darker, almost purple. But being the wise man I was, I didn’t voice this observation.
“So, we need to find out what happened last night. Why and how did Baba Yaga let loose a monster in here…” I thought aloud.
She glanced at me nervously. “Nate?”
“Yeah,” I answered distracted.
“The monster disappeared the second you passed out. If the old woman had brought it over, wouldn’t it have, you know, attacked while you were weakened?”
I slowly turned to face her, frowning.
“Wait… are you thinking that… that I brought it over?” She looked slightly embarrassed before shooting a harder glance back at me.
“I’m not accusing, just… asking if it’s possible? Maybe the drinking messed with your powers…”
“I…” Then I thought about it. She might have a point. Baba had led me by the nose, asking me what I feared, and she had quizzed me on the book. Maybe it had been an off-handed trap of some kind. After all, I was a Maker now. Maybe I had… made the monster appear. I had been drunk, and as soon as I thought about the rooster horse it had appeared…
“That…” I cleared my throat. “That is incredibly unfair…”
Indie touched my shoulder. “Maybe one day we’ll all have our shit together, but for now I think it’s pretty darn important that we admit one thin
g,” she studied me seriously. “You’re a hot mess, and you need to stop drinking.”
Alucard grunted. I hadn’t even known he was listening. Then again, vampire. Sneaky bastards. “Speak for yourself,” he chuckled as he popped the cork on a nice red wine I had been saving for a special occasion. He poured himself a splash in a coffee mug. All class, Alucard. “You can’t tell me not to drink blood and not to drink booze,” he muttered, taking a long appreciative sip of my most expensive wine.
“This… sucks.” I growled.
“So, what’s our next step? I hope it involves hitting someone. I really want to hit someone,” he smiled eagerly.
“I don’t think you want to hit this person…” Alucard watched me thoughtfully. “We need gossip. And where do guys typically go to gossip?”
“Their bartender.” I nodded with a faint grin. “Didn’t we just talk about you not drinking anymore? And your first plan is to go to a bar and try to get him to talk?”
I flashed him my teeth.
“I’m going with,” Indie declared. I held up a hand.
“He’s not really a people person, and he might be more open without a Grimm standing there. Not even considering his customer base…” I said lightly. She growled to herself before finally nodding.
I began to turn my head towards the door as Gunnar came back in, “Did someone mention the bar? Because I think my schedule just cleared up… for that. Not the cleaning bit.” Ashley rolled her eyes.
“Fine. I won’t go…” Indie said. “As long as you promise me that you won’t drink.” Indie was smiling, when I turned back to her with an accusatory scowl.
“We don’t even know if it’s related,” I complained.
“I don’t care. Either I go, or you don’t drink. If you let loose a horde of monsters at his bar, it’s essentially the same thing as me hulking out there…” She processed her words, and her face grew tight at the comparison.
Silver Tongue: A Novel in The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 4) Page 6
