In response, the griffin ruffled its stone feathers to twice their normal size, and lifted its legs in the air like a dog searching for a belly rub. The girl tentatively crept closer, no longer crying, and with quivering fingers placed them on the stone Guardian’s belly. The griffin began to purr loudly, wriggling back and forth in appreciation.
And the girl fell in love, instantly calling the others over.
Soon enough, there was a swarm of loving, happy children – completely forgetting about the chaos outside – in a huddle around the cute little homicidal griffin. Alucard and Tory stared wide-mouthed. I smirked, and turned my shoulder, catching sight of the man who had bought the drinks for the two girls. He now had two young boys behind him, and was crouched before them protectively. He met my eyes and nodded.
“Take care of them. I’ll be right back,” I said to Indie and Alucard, striding through the door.
Tory raced after me. I began to warn her not to, that the spell would lock her in until the threat was gone, and that she was about to hit a solid wall of power that could withstand an army of both Heaven and Hell combined.
And she strode right through it as if it was made of mist. A tingle of alarm suddenly hit me. The ward wasn’t working. Shit.
I saw Alucard blurring after us with his inhuman speed, and shouted for him to remain in the shop. If the ward wasn’t working, I needed him inside to protect the girls if the Guardians failed.
He ignored me, took another blurred step, and I saw his face clearly as it crumpled into an invisible force, and he stopped cold. He bounced off, careened into a bookshelf, and collapsed. A haze rippled in the air of the doorway, that was all.
I blinked. Then turned to Tory in confusion. She glanced back at me with a frown. “Maybe it doesn’t like vampires?” I stared back for a second, about to open my mouth to argue that it should have prevented anyone from crossing the threshold, good, bad, ugly, heavenly…anyone.
Then I heard someone clear their throat behind me, and I whirled, having temporarily forgotten about the threat. I threw down my fists and eruptions of purple fire tore through the concrete in solid protective barriers as I dove to the side. I cast another one to the side of Tory, and she mimicked my move, darting for cover. I glanced up, not using my hands this time and flexed my mind like I had been practicing over the past several months.
Lances of green fire sailed down, the size of coins, sizzling as they melted through concrete, metal, and trash cans in a cacophony of chaos meant to distract. I just hoped it was enough to save the children.
Chapter 28
Baba stood calmly, watching me, picking her teeth. Her Familiar stood before Greta, seeming to sniff her. Greta was quivering with fear, reciting a prayer over and over again under her breath, eyes squeezed tight. The Familiar leaned forward and took a big whiff of her hair with its bony nose.
“Hey, bird-brain,” I snapped, tossing up my hand like throwing a softball from my hip. A ball of air screamed through the space between us, and solidly cracked into his nose, knocking his head to the side as the bone splintered, but didn’t break. It slowly turned to me after a second, and I spotted a spider web of cracks where the force had struck him.
“Dear, dear. You’ve broken the siding of my home. Tsk, tsk…” Baba cooed. The Familiar took a halting step towards me, forgetting Greta, but Baba cleared her throat and the figure stopped. Its smoldering black eyes glared at me from beneath the mask, and they promised a world of vengeance. Then it turned back to watch Greta. Even though her eyes were closed, she seemed to sense the sudden attention as she began to shake in fear again, but her prayers never halted.
Baba turned back to me. Then she glanced at the shop and the bars of light. She tapped her iron teeth thoughtfully, making a metallic sound.
“Must need a blacksmith for a dentist,” I muttered.
“What is a dentist?”
I blinked back, unfurling from my crouch as I let the rain of flame die down. One of the droplets fell close to Baba and she pinched it in a finger, snuffing it out instantly without a twitch of pain. She smiled at me. The air smelled like burnt rock, like a dry sauna.
Except it was asphalt, and it was in front of my store.
Damn it.
I had to be careful now. My funds were not limitless anymore, and St. Louis practically hated me for the dissolution of Temple Industries. Even though none of it had been my fault, and had been proven to be some elaborate corporate espionage scheme – by parties unknown to the general population or the U.S. Supreme Court.
Regardless, my company hadn’t been able to survive under the bad press, and I had been forced to sell it off. Part of that money had gone to Greta, who still stood frozen in fear before her Bible students, and the rest had gone to various other loyal employees from over the years. I was getting used to an entirely new reality. I couldn’t intimidate the city anymore. I was just a local business owner, fallen from grace. Before, I had been Master Temple, come hell or high water. Now, well… the situation was going to suck in the morning. Let’s just put it that way.
“I told you I wanted some cookies…” Baba cooed.
“Yeah, these aren’t for you. So why don’t you and your creepy house just head back out of town?”
She ignored me, instead turning to assess Tory. “And what have we here? This isn’t the creature that interrupted our previous meeting,” she murmured, stepping closer. Tory stared back, not moving an inch. Well, other than her fingers flexing into fists. I really didn’t want her to try and hit Baba. For one, she appeared like an elderly woman, and I would never be able to remove the vision from my mind. Tory decking a senior citizen.
Fight an Octogenarian, and you lose no matter the outcome. Either you beat up an old person – which was shameful – or you got beat up by an old person – which was embarrassing.
Secondly, I was entirely sure that Baba would have some creepy, deadly response. And I didn’t know how her Familiar would take it. Probably not well. “Where’s your shadow, crone?” Tory asked her.
Baba’s eyes danced with delight. “Oh, kitty has claws.” She grinned at me. “I like this one, even if she doesn’t know what she is. Doesn’t know who she hears calling out to her. Doesn’t understand the blood that whispers her name…”
“Uh, right.” I answered, noticing Tory’s stunned look my way. “Not sure about those last bits, but her shadow is Renaissance Chicken over there.” I pointed. Her gaze followed my finger to the creature and her eyes squinted a bit, but she seemed too preoccupied with the witch’s comment to be too terribly surprised. But I could tell one thing.
She was growing pissed and impatient. She wanted to hit something.
You see, the maternal switch had been turned on after a few months of looking after the Reds. And Tory didn’t really do… well, half-measures.
“Easy, girls. We don’t need to fight. Not here. Not now. Let’s just have a chat.”
“Over drinks?” Baba grinned, warty, bulbous nose twitching slightly as her iron teeth glinted.
“No, my drinking days are apparently over.”
“Can we step inside, at least?” She asked, grinning darkly.
“No.”
“I’m just an old woman searching for a book, boy. There really is no need to get so worked up. Have I displayed any aggression towards you?”
I stared back, hard. She glanced at Tory, smiling as she looked her up and down. “No,” I finally answered. She smiled, stepping closer to Tory. “But you have scared the hell out of these innocent little girls.”
“Pah,” she muttered. “They should have respected their elders, but the old one wouldn’t let me close enough to buy some cookies.”
Greta murmured in the background, reciting her prayers over and over again as the witch’s Familiar continued to sniff, sniff, sniff. The little girls huddled in a mass, crying and sobbing, calling for their parents. One of them was clutching a monster of a cat. A Maine Coon, judging by the size of it. The feline watched Tory i
ntently for some reason, its tail twitching angrily, but the girls clutched it like it was a pet tiger ready to protect them if they needed it. “Hey, ugly. Step. Back.” I snarled, unhitching my cane from my belt and tapping it into the road, causing a tingle to zap the Familiar’s feet with a hiss of burning flesh. The creature didn’t even flinch, just lazily swiveled its head my way to stare at me.
Baba chuckled. “Easy, old friend. We truly meant no harm… You may step back.” The Familiar instantly vaporized to reappear directly behind the witch’s back to revert back to her hulking shadow. Tory blinked, but hid her surprise better than me. I almost let loose a ball of fire. If the creature had been able to move like that, the girls could have been slaughtered at any moment while I stood there acting tough. It caused a shiver to race down my neck.
“Well, if you’re not here to grind our bones up in that can-opener mouth of yours, why don’t you answer a question, since you obviously seem to know the answer.” She nodded, smiling. “The alcohol thing. Was that another gift due to my Maker ability?”
She traded gazes with Tory one last time. I heard a familiar snap off in the alley behind Baba and frowned. I’d recognize that sound anywhere. Shit. I needed to keep her attention before things got out of hand. “I’ve heard it’s a curse of Makers. Your power stems from your imagination. When you drink, or are otherwise inebriated, your inner psyche runs wild. The greater the influence, the wilder the reactions.” She smiled at me. “Makers have been known to level cities when they got to drinking … and worse when one happened to try a new kind of mushroom.” She smiled delightedly.
Wow.
That was disturbing, and also terrifying.
“Your power is obviously constrained by your mind. When you are out of control, those thoughts, fears, daydreams, good or bad, have the potential to come to life. Why do you think your kind was hunted so religiously? Especially by the Grimms. One could argue that your kind are the reason for their existence.”
“Right. I’ll keep that in mind. No more hallucinogens for me.” I studied her. She watched me curiously. I couldn’t take it any longer. “Okay. What the hell are we doing here?”
“I’ve come for the book, of course. I will pay for it. I wouldn’t want you to feel shorted since you so adroitly expressed your interest in making some money in the deal. I will offer double your client’s price.”
I stared at her. “I always have a hard time when I take Rubles to the bank.”
She ignored my comment, turned, and reached a hand inside the folded cloak shrouding the creature behind her like it was nothing more than a purse, withdrawing a shiny silver briefcase like you see in those old spy movies. She opened it to reveal a whole shitload of money. Easily half-a-million dollars. She stepped back, glancing from Tory to myself.
“Well? Do we have a deal, Maker?”
“I already told you guys. I. Don’t. Have. It.”
The Familiar quivered behind her. She cocked her head as if listening to something it was saying. Then she turned to glare at me with flinty eyes. “I don’t tolerate liars.”
“I’m not lying. Look. If I had it, I would tell you I did, flip you off, maybe even light that shiny briefcase on fire, and then kick your ass back to Putin.” I was getting sick and tired of this. I just wished I knew why everyone thought I was lying. Had I come across it somewhere and not known? Was it disguised as something obvious? Veiled in magic? She was looking angrier by the moment, so I cleared my throat. “Is there a chance it’s veiled? So that I wouldn’t recognize it?”
She thought about that. “Interesting idea, but no. It is not veiled. I don’t believe it can be. Now, hidden, yes, but not veiled.”
I shrugged. “Then I have no idea why you seem to think I have it. The last person I can think who might have it is Van. He seems sneaky. I’m pretty sure the Huntress would have used arrows or something violent to kill everyone at the auction. And I would also be riddled with arrows if she had stolen it from me. So, my bets are on the vampire hunter. Or this unknown player. The one turning us strangers on each other over this book.” I glanced at Tory, who looked distracted for some reason. She was likely thinking on Baba’s words. I turned back to the witch. “That was me being honest and fair with you. My patience and hospitality is going to go downhill from there…” I warned honestly.
She pointed at the bookstore behind us. “You call this hospitality?” She sneered. “I’ve tried being nice. I’ve played your civil mortal games. Enough. I can sense it. Inside. Let me in or all here shall die.” She was no longer a kindly old lady, and there weren’t enough of us to keep every child safe.
Then I caught a pair of fiery eyes watching the situation unfold from the darkness of the alley. Tory’s eyes followed mine and she stiffened suddenly. She tried to hide it, but Baba was a perceptive old lady. “Oh? What do we have here? Peeping Toms, I believe you call them?” She glanced back at her Familiar. “Kill them. All of them. Perhaps after his death the ward will go down. Then we’ll kill everyone inside and pick up the book ourselves.”
Chapter 29
The Familiar barely even hesitated before moving towards the girls.
But red dragons are a wee-bit faster.
The Reds exploded from behind a pair of trashcans in the alley, unfolding into their dragon forms – which were growing by the day, just like their mother’s rather impressive giant form – and split up to sweep high and low. The one up high pelted the creature with a glob of napalm red fire while the one below dove to tackle him like a lineman, claws scraping on the pavement before it launched itself at the creature.
The Renaissance Chicken took the fire badly, his robes soaking up the fire like an oiled cloth. He burst into flame, leaving a disembodied bird skull to float above a body of fire – a sight that would forever be burned into my retinas.
And…
It let out a rasping laugh. At least I think it was meant to be a laugh. The other dragon slammed into it hard enough to break vertebrae, and deflected off like hitting the side of a mountain before crashing into a parked car. Baba raised a hand to unleash some truly horrific spell on the fallen dragon, and Tory suddenly stood before her, fist sailing towards Baba’s chin with the power of motherhood behind each knuckle.
I began to shout for Tory to get herself and the girls out, but I knew it was too late. I watched in horror, wondering if it was the last time I would ever see Tory again. Sure, she was strong, but this was one world-class witch. Baba watched, turning her hand, which was dripping an oily blue substance from her skin, as if having dipped it in melting rubber, so that it would intercept Tory’s fist.
I threw up a shield of transparent diamond, knowing it would likely break Tory’s wrist, but I was willing to do anything to prevent her fist touching Baba. And, knowing her strength, I needed it to be hard enough to stop her, and something that even if Baba used magic, she could also not penetrate with her powers – ruling out my usual shield of air. As if the world moved in slow motion, my shield coalesced directly between the two of them. Baba was smiling.
Tory was screaming.
And her fist contacted my shield. I winced inwardly, not wanting to see it, hear it, but also not able to turn away.
Against all logic, her fist shattered my shield as if it had been made of toothpicks. Shards of diamonds exploded outwards in a cloud of sand. I saw Baba’s eyes widen – likely a direct reflection of my own expression. Tory’s fist crunched into Baba’s fat, ugly nose with a crunch loud enough to make me cringe. And that old biddy flew twenty feet as if riding a broom. She crashed into the brick wall of the building behind her, and Tory panted heavily. Then she glared at me. I began to mutter a defense when I saw her eyes widen, looking past me at the little Bible crew.
I swiveled, flipping up my cane as I used it to channel power at whatever Tory had seen behind me. The Familiar was towering over the table, reaching one clawed hand – body still on fire – towards Greta’s throat, claws dripping the same blue melted rubber substance.
<
br /> A bell split the sounds of chaos. A bell of such crystalline quality, that I wondered if it had something to do with my ward or if it was Baba casting up something nasty. Twin bolts of lightning slammed into Baba’s Familiar from the heavens of a perfectly clear sky.
The bolts were white and blue, and seemed to stay connected to the ground longer than possible, and a pair of grey feathered wings snapped into existence between the bolts. A silver, crackling fist of pure energy the size of my chest slammed into the Familiar’s nose, wrenching it ninety-degrees to the side before the shadow vaporized to nothing, disappearing entirely.
A clarion voice called out menacingly. “Ye shall not touch her, demon.”
And I heard Baba roaring from the sidewalk as the Familiar was suddenly behind her, swaying dizzily.
A form unfolded from a crouch on the ground as the bolts of lightning disappeared, revealing a robed figure with a good twelve-foot wingspan standing immediately before Greta. The wings arched up over his head into points before the tips sharply shot back down to the ground at his feet. The feathers were a glowing, pearlescent white, but mottled with a light grey shade. Which was odd. Last time I had seen him his wings had been made of elemental powers. Fire, ice, rock, and glass.
It was Eae. An Angel. And his name literally meant Demon Thwarter.
I had sucker-punched him once.
But… Angels couldn’t interfere with humans. They had their Nephilim to do that. So how the hell was he… interfering?
A lance of red-hot flame shot out from Baba’s outstretched arms, straight towards Tory’s heart. The airborne dragon swooped down to her, as if trying to protect her, but I flung up a gust of wind at the last second, throwing her off course. The only thing her landing would have done was kill both her and Tory.
But…
Tory stood completely still as the bar of flame connected with her chest. She glanced down at it in confusion, then back to Baba. Then she lifted her hand through the bar as if it were merely made of smoke. In fact, if I couldn’t see the bar of flame, I wouldn’t even have known anything was happening. Baba lay on the concrete, staring in disbelief as her power poured into Tory like water through a sieve. Nothing came out of Tory’s back. It was as if the power never left her body. Baba screamed, and the bar of power doubled.
Silver Tongue: A Novel in The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 4) Page 14
