Wild Side: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 7 (The Temple Chronicles)

by Shayne Silvers

  Talon dipped his head at me in gratitude and acceptance, ignoring Gunnar.

  “You have bird-shit on your armor,” I said, trying not to laugh.

  He hissed at me for pointing it out. “Fucking mangy, worthless ravens,” he muttered. And this time I burst out laughing. Hugin and Munin had shit on him. Oh god, I loved my life.

  Talon cleared his throat angrily, trying to change the topic. “Allow me to introduce Miss Callie Penrose, as requested,” he said, holding out a hand and stepping to the side.

  “I think one of your birds shit on your pussycat, here,” Callie said conversationally, stepping out from behind Talon. His eyes flashed in outrage. “Furball said you needed something—”

  Talon hissed, one of his claws suddenly reaching for her throat.

  But Callie was a wee-bit faster, reacting as if she had been goading him on purpose.

  She had crouched a moment before contact, and crackling blue kamas, like handheld scythes, suddenly uppercut Talon’s outstretched arms. She kicked the base of his spear, knocking him off balance, and catching it in a hand as it spun.

  Talon gripped the spear tighter, no stranger to combat.

  But apparently, Callie had anticipated this as well.

  Because one of her Kamas suddenly assisted her initial kick of the spear, bringing it in a full rotation around Talon’s arm, twisting his wrist until the base of the spear hit her palms. Then she twisted, jerked down on the base of the spear, and used it as a fulcrum to slam Talon into the ground. He wheezed, blinking up at the axe blade resting at his white-furred throat.

  Alucard began a slow clap, muttering, “Did she go to the Fae World, too?”

  Callie tapped Talon twice on the chest with the flat of his spear, then brought it back upright to thud the base of the weapon into the floor. She extended her other hand to trade grips with Talon and pull him to his feet. He stared at her for a moment, and then, with a chuckle, accepted her help. He stood before her, nodded in respect, and then glanced at his weapon. “Well met, traveler.”

  “Well met, Talon. Or Sir Muffle Paws, I presume?” And she handed the spear back to him.

  He cocked his head, surprised at her perception. And without an ounce of concern, she turned her back on him, searching the room for me.

  She found me, and froze. A hand shot to her chest, and I caught a noticeable shiver, as her eyes seemed to blaze with inner fire. She swallowed, composed herself, and then let herself smile. “I like the new look,” she said.

  I nodded back. It looked like she had either liked it a hell of a lot more than she had implied, or if I now scared the living hell out of her.

  “I need your help,” I said.

  “You’ve been gone almost two months, and suddenly you need my help?” she asked. She turned to my friends. “Not even they knew where you were.”

  I nodded. “We’ve gone over that,” I admitted.

  “That’s nice. I sure as hell haven’t gone over that.”

  I blinked at her. She sounded upset. “Okay. I’ll tell you all abou—”

  “Damned right you will. Over dinner. Tonight. Or I walk.”

  “Deal,” I said, wondering why she sounded so angry.

  I opened my mouth to probably dig myself into a lot more trouble, but just then, Carl entered. He approached me on silent, stealthy feet, and leaned in close to whisper in my ear, not acknowledging anyone else in the room. I nodded, considering as he spoke, ignoring the looks from the others. He waited for a moment, and then began to back away from me. I held up a hand, and looked at Gunnar, who looked on the verge of demanding an answer.

  “I want Ashley to help lead our people. At least as a significant advisor.”

  His eye tightened, not in doubt of her ability, but wondering what I had heard to make me say that. He slowly nodded, waiting for an explanation.

  “Elder Carl, please tell Ashley and Gunnar what you saw, and help her plan. Talon, join them.” I turned to Tory. “You are our new Camp Manager. You will work closely with Wulfra and Wulfric to devise battle plans. Coordinate with Raego, the Syndicate, and any other heads of nations or groups. By the way, is the Academy here?” Alucard nodded, frowning at my whirlwind list of commands. “Someone wrap G Ma up with a doily and get her in the talks. See how best to utilize the spell slingers. If you want to see sparks, ask Cindy to do it. She’s still in charge of the Syndicate crew, right?”

  Gunnar grunted. “I think she has a mysterious boss, but she won’t tell us who that is, or if he or she is in their camp, hiding their identity.”

  I shot Wulfra a look, making a few quick gestures. Look into it.

  She placed a finger on her ear without a thought, falling into place, even though she still looked like Ashley. Then she realized what had happened, and she stared at me, looking troubled. I made another gesture. Easy. Marry the two. You know how. Utilize this gift. Like your wolf. Work with it, not against it. And be sure to rock Gunnar’s world tonight…

  Her face flushed red, which Gunnar instantly noticed. He shot me a look, and then scowled for good measure. I winked back.

  “Huntress, you know what to do.” She nodded.

  Alucard grunted, one arm draped over the back of his chair, tapping his sunglasses against the leather in a frustrated staccato. “Where do I fall in, and is anyone going to ask who the fucking kid is?”

  An arrow slammed into the chair, shattering his glasses. He jumped to his feet, eyes wide.

  “Does anyone else want to ask that question?” the Huntress asked in a soft voice.

  Alex placed a hand on her bow, stepping forward with a bored, resigned sigh. “I am Alex. Know me.”

  Then he stepped back, folding his arms.

  I tried not to laugh as everyone stared at the kid. “Just to put things in perspective, Alex was in the Fae Side much, much longer than any of us…” The resulting silence was brittle.

  Callie didn’t try to hide her amusement. “I like him. But this place,” she said, shaking her head. “You guys,” she muttered. “Dysfunctional doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

  I shrugged in agreement as I clapped my hands. “Get to it. Because I think things have escalated.” Everyone stared at me, and I nodded. “That’s right. Indie – my ex-fiancée – and Ichabod – my crazy grandfucker – are here.” I watched the various reactions, all suddenly very hushed. “But I’ve got a hot lunch date to attend. Or whatever mealtime it is. Part of my personal battle Mallory mentioned,” I added.

  Gunnar and Alucard shot me curious looks, but seeing Callie scowling at me, their looks shifted to anticipatory grins, waiting for her tirade.

  She placed her palms on her tight leather pants, shifting her leather jacket back to reveal a plain t-shirt underneath. I wasn’t sure if she typically chose dark clothes to emphasize her hair, or simply because she preferred them.

  “Battle? Or dinner? I’m just a feeble-minded woman, and sometimes long talks go right over my head,” she said in a low, crisp tone.

  I grinned back. “Dinner. Definitely dinner. But I want to talk to you about a battle.” I extended an elbow, smiling at her. “Let’s go see what Dean can round up for some grub. Then I’m going to take you somewhere super-duper cool.”

  An amused smile replaced her anger at my corny phrase, and she finally took my arm. She glanced down at the cane in my hand. “I guess it’s only polite to help a doddering old man walk to dinner,” she said, smiling. Alucard began a slow clap. I rolled my eyes. Her fingers were hot to the touch. And it felt nice to be squeezed. I realized physical contact – affectionate physical contact – had been rather lacking on my trip, which made her touch all the more… impacting.

  I was grinning as I guided her towards the kitchen, hoping to find my damned butler to see what he could scrounge up without notice. And it needed to travel well…

  Chapter 46

  I held the basket in one arm, and Callie’s hand with my own. My cane was tucked through my belt. She shot me a curious look, and then nodded.
I winked, turned to the evening sky, and ripped a hole in reality, a great flaming circle erupted before us, revealing a tranquil hill on the other side. Callie gasped.

  I led her under the fiery arch, and then let it wink out behind me.

  She spun in a slow circle, grinning as she held her hands out. Here, it was a few hours until dawn, but the glowing moon provided enough light. Her white hair practically glowed in contrast to the black leather pants and jacket she wore. Also, the moonlight helped make her look wild, like a sprite.

  Like a Fae.

  But I knew she was something altogether different from that.

  I wasn’t sure if she was entirely aware of what she was, but it wasn’t my place to tell her. My Angel pal, Eae, had made that very clear. I wasn’t scared of the pigeon…

  I was respectful of his friends.

  I watched her spin about, grinning like a child, and realized I was smiling, staring at the delicate skin at the sides of her neck.

  She noticed my look, skipped back up to me, and then grabbed my hand to lead me towards the obvious destination just ahead. Stonehenge.

  “Is it sacrilegious to sit in the middle?” she asked, sounding on the verge of laughter.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  She flashed a pout. “Well, that takes the risk out of it, but we can still have fun.”

  She led me to the center, let go of my hand, and then placed hers on her hips. “Dazzle me,” she said in a meaningful tone, using my words from last time we had spoken.

  I chuckled, rolling my eyes. “I’ve never had a dazzling picnic.”

  “Then we should try,” she said softly.

  I looked up at her, wondering. I nodded after a long pause, smiling back. “Okay, Callie.”

  I set my cane in the grass and opened the basket, frowning down at the contents. “Dazzle me…” I repeated her words under my breath. Then I reached behind me, grabbed my shadow, and unfurled it before us like a blanket. I felt Callie stiffen in disbelief. The shadow blanket nestled into the grass, a good inch thick, and remained after I released it. I ignored Callie as I glanced up at the sky, and reached up as if plucking apples from a tree. I chose four stars, and then brought a small piece of their light down, placing them in the air at each corner of our blanket like I was hanging Christmas ornaments. I leaned back, studied the layout, and then nodded to myself.

  I crouched down and began taking items out of the picnic basket. Nothing fancy. Just a meat and cheese platter – freshly cut by Dean – and a few containers of berries. I pulled out the two fluted glasses from their protective case, and popped the cork on a nice white wine Dean had dusted off from my cellars at Chateau Falco.

  An 1811 Chateau d’Yquem, upwards of a hundred thousand dollars per bottle, these days.

  I closed the basket, filled up our glasses, set them atop the basket, and then crawled onto my shadow blanket. I glanced behind me, where my shadow should have been, and saw nothing. Then I turned to meet her eyes, face serious, and patted my shadow for her to join me as I extended one of the glasses to her.

  She stared back, stunned. “I’m fucking dazzled,” she whispered.

  I patted the blanket again, reaching further with the glass.

  She joined me, accepted the glass, and leaned back on her elbow, facing me. I did the same.

  She was just about as close as she could get.

  She was wearing red lipstick, like I had made her wear once for a job in Kansas City. She took a cautious sip of the wine, smiled, and then held it out. “I think I have the wrong glass.”

  I very carefully switched them, accepting hers and giving her mine, so that the one I held had a faint red mark on it from her lipstick. She stared at me for a second, and then lifted her glass.

  We clinked, not looking at our glasses, and then took a sip. I very specifically drank from the lipstick-stained mark on my glass, and she noticed.

  “Much better,” she said after a long sip, licking her lips very slowly, savoring it.

  “Yes, much,” I agreed, ignoring the expectant tingle on my lips as I took in her features in the moonlight, remembering this exact scene from the last time I had made her wear lipstick.

  “So, this battle…” she began.

  “Not yet. I want… to enjoy this,” I said, looking at her. Then I reclined onto my back with a loud sigh, staring up at the sky. I could sense the energy pulsing beneath us, from all around us. From Stonehenge. Wild magic.

  A door to the Fae.

  But that wasn’t why I had brought her here.

  I had brought her here for one simple reason. Because it was pretty. And peaceful.

  The opposite of my life, lately. And likely the opposite of hers, lately.

  A gift.

  After a moment, she did the same, her side pressing against mine, and we watched the night in silence. She gleefully pointed out a shooting star. Then another.

  And just as easy as that, we were a couple of kids, enjoying the world around us. No monsters. No gods. No Fae. Just us. Laughing and pointing at stars, suggesting crude shapes in the clouds, and enjoying each other’s company. Our hands brushed against each other a few times, and her body heat was very distracting. I pretended not to notice.

  “Nate?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Why are we here?”

  “Where else would we be?”

  She propped herself up to look down at me. “Maybe where the war is.”

  “Thanks for helping with the defenses, by the way.”

  She shrugged. “Simple enough,” she said, sounding very literal.

  I sighed, dropping it. “This isn’t my war.”

  “From what I heard, it kind of is. Crazy ex waking up a god intent on destroying all of you and your friends.”

  I shook my head. “The crazy ex part is right, but they aren’t here to destroy me, or my friends. They are here to destroy the Syndicate. I just put us in the middle.”

  She was silent for a time. “So, now you’re just going to step out of their way?”

  “Too late for that,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Then… you’re just going to let your friends fight without you? Without the person who got them into it? Against your ex and crazy ancestor? Against a god?”

  I sighed, finally propping myself up on an arm. “No. And yes.” She watched me, not judging, but genuinely trying to understand. Which said a whole lot about Callie Penrose. She had seen me. Knew I wasn’t one to stand by. That I practically couldn’t stand by when someone was hurting. It was how we had met, after all. And rather than accusing me, judging me, or condemning me, she calmly lay beside me, having a picnic, and waited for me to explain. Because I must have a reason.

  “Thanks, Callie.”

  “For what?”

  “Just… being you, I guess,” I said, smiling as I felt a large weight lift from my shoulders. Nothing had changed, but knowing one person didn’t immediately hate me for my decision took a lot of pressure off me. I don’t know why. But me telling her that War had told me I couldn’t participate would have removed the responsibility from me. Anyone could nod at that. But without me using an excuse, here she was, talking to me, trusting me, accepting my decision, even if she didn’t understand.

  Because this whole picnic had been a test. Me testing Callie.

  “Here’s the gist of it. I can’t get into too many details, but I should not participate in the war itself. I can be there at the end, for a very specific moment, but this war has grown in scope and scale. Think about it. Indie, the crazy bitch, woke up a god. Almost a year ago. News spread fast, and everyone feared Armageddon. But nothing happened. And people continued to talk. Hype built. Bets were metaphorically placed. Which means each of my people were analyzed. And each of the Greeks was analyzed. Like one massive game. A Prize Fight.”

  She nodded slowly, eyes suddenly very intent, not having considered it from that angle.

  “And now, it’s here. Or very close. And the world is wat
ching, even if most of my people aren’t aware of it. Because, you know, we’ve been hunkered down in my war camp at Chateau Falco. The world holds its breath, waiting to see the outcome…” I said, also seeing everything from a new height, like a hawk drifting over a battlefield.

  Wylde was helping me see it.

  “It would be very impressive for me to step in, pull out the big guns, maybe even some guns I shouldn’t pick up, and take down the threat, right?”

  She nodded slowly, transfixed. “You would become a legend,” she whispered. “Not that some… many don’t already consider you one. But yes, your reputation would explode.”

  I nodded, staring at her. “And?”

  She bit her lip, staring past me, thinking for a long minute. “A bigger army would eventually come, aimed at you, specifically. Using your allies as bait. You wouldn’t know who they would attack. Too many targets, and you can’t protect everyone…”

  I nodded. “Exactly—”

  “But if your allies fought this war, and made it one hell of a war, they would each become legends…” she whispered, eyes widening. “And would no longer be considered targets.” She turned to me, excited. “You need them to make this their own. To make names for themselves. To scare the living hell out of everyone that’s watching. Rock the bets. Shake the foundations of the world. And it’s better to do it against this – although frightening – smaller army than the next, bigger army. It’s a big enough fight for everyone to watch, and maybe just big enough for them to beat on their own.” She shook her head, stunned. “No, that’s not all. You don’t need them to do this thing. They need to do this. For their own confidence. For their own protection.”

  I nodded. “And to truly make them believe that, I need to step down, anger them, infuriate them to some extent. To truly make them believe they need to give this their all. They can’t wait for me to come riding in on a… well, that’s a figure of speech,” I said, changing direction.

  “Albeit an accurate one…” she said. Her eyes locked onto the necklace with the wooden disc, as if she could sense it. “You really are a…” she waved a hand, not saying it out loud.