I shook my head. “I heard them when I sat down.” I waved a hand at the peaceful, tranquil, moonlit park ahead of us. “Anyway, if there’s a manhunt, why are there no police or reporters?”
Cain scanned the park, his forehead furrowing. “Maybe they already caught him.”
I nodded absently. “Well, we can cut through the park. There’s a new fountain I want to see.” I shot him a significant look. “Solomon’s Throne.”
He stiffened slightly, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes. “Oh?” he said warily. “How…serendipitous.”
“Easy, champ,” I warned. “Save your big words for the witches. They pay in potions.”
He muttered something less than flattering under his breath, making me grin.
Even without Michael urging me to learn how to use the Seal of Solomon, I was very aware of the cosmic coincidence at play. But curiosity killed the cat, and all of that. And technically, visiting this fountain was paying homage to my distant ancestor. What kind of descendent would I be to not go see it?
I entered the park and knew we were the only ones here. It just had that feeling about it. Maybe they really had concluded their manhunt. The entrance to the park revealed a moonlit clearing with an elaborate fountain depicting two nymphs blowing a fawn’s pipes.
I thought about how that sounded, realized Archangel Michael had been right about me being broken inside, and continued on with a resigned sigh, motioning for Cain to follow.
Cain caught up with me, matching my stride. I’d already told him all about my ties to King Solomon and the Seal. He had listened intently to my story, asked to see the Seal afterwards, nodded once or twice, and had then asked—with a big grin—if the princess commanded him to bring a tiara to our next coffee date. That was the best kind of friend. And yes, he had brought a cheap, plastic tiara to our next coffee date.
I think they called this type of friend an enabler.
I didn’t see any signs for the new fountain, but after about ten minutes I noticed a freshly beaten trail leading off into an area surrounded by tall trees. The path wasn’t paved yet, but I heard gurgling water on the other side of the trees. Cain cleared his throat pointedly as I was about to round the bend for a closer look. “Didn’t you say your fountain was on the front page?”
He was holding up a copy of today’s newspaper and the front depicted a Kansas Senator doing something either heroic or scandalous, I couldn’t tell. It definitely wasn’t about a fountain. I had been sure the homeless man’s paper had been from today. I shrugged. “Maybe I misread the date.”
But Cain was studying me suspiciously, knowing how good I typically was with details. Coupled with the other facts I had mentioned that he couldn’t recall—and the coincidence of those facts leading us here to a fountain in honor of King Solomon, his alarm bells were likely ringing. To be honest, mine were, too. But I was still going to take a peek. It was right around the corner from me. I had a feeling. Cain cursed and gave chase as I dashed around the bend.
Ten feet further, I skidded to a halt, my eyes widening as Cain caught up beside me. We stood on the edge of a clearing holding a massive fountain with an exquisite throne in the center—the type of fountain that should have probably stood outside the Bellagio in Vegas. My mouth hung open as I stared at it, feeling calmer by the moment. The full moon illuminated the fountain, making it look like it had been formed from fresh milk, rising up from the pool of water.
“Wow…” Cain breathed. “You weren’t kidding. But what’s something like that doing tucked away back here? And why haven’t we heard anything until now? This had to take forever to build…”
I nodded absently, walking over to it. My ancestor’s throne…it suddenly felt a lot more personal to me. Reading about it in books was one thing, but to see the man’s throne? I pulled out the Seal of Solomon, holding it in my palm, feeling like it was the right thing for the man’s descendent to do. Paying tribute. The Demons typically only bothered me if I put it on my finger, but I remained alert, ready to shove it back in my pocket if necessary.
“Something feels wrong about all of this, Callie…” Cain warned.
I placed my hand on the slick ledge of the pool, staring up at the ornate throne. Six wide steps led up to the royal seat from the water’s surface, a different pair of meticulously carved animals facing each other from either side of each step: a lion and an ox, a wolf and a lamb, a tiger and a camel, an eagle and a peacock, a cat and a rooster, and a hawk facing a dove. Above the throne itself, a dove held a hawk in its beak—which was definitely bizarre.
But the attention to detail was stunning. Cain was right. This had to have taken a long time to build. They hadn’t just slapped some concrete forms together. In fact…I leaned forward, rapping on the ledge encircling the pool. It was marble.
I grunted in surprise. This was way too nice to have out in public. It was going to be covered in graffiti in a few days, tops. No question.
I leaned closer, placing both palms on the ledge and shaking my head. “Cain, you need to see this up close. It’s beautif—”
“Get back, NOW!” Cain roared, and I heard him unsheathing something metallic.
Chapter 16
I spun to confront the threat, instinctively shoving the Seal of Solomon back into my pocket. It had remained entirely inert, but Cain didn’t jump at shadows. Nor did he draw steel on them.
Except…this time he had, because we were entirely alone.
Cain abruptly grabbed me by the shoulder and shoved me behind him as he held out a long, wicked dagger, keeping me away from…
The fountain.
I stared from over his shoulder to see what had alarmed him, and immediately gasped in disbelief. Where I had touched the marble, glowing text was slowly appearing in a flowing, elegant calligraphy. I peered over Cain’s shoulder, struggling to read it while he fought to keep me back with his free hand.
Solomon’s Temple has opened at last, to be found by the one who discovers the path. Many will seek, but only one may find, as the Doors to such wisdom, can shatter the mind. From corner to corner, from East to West, the Temple is calling, your trial, your test. To find her location, to find where she hides, is for you to decipher, for you to decide.
Two ways one can enter, two ways one may find. One lies on the earth, one lies in the mind. The Doors on each path, so vast and so varied, like wounds to the heart, are oft deep buried. So, go forth, my children, be daring, be bold, Solomon’s Temple is calling, with treasures untold.
“Motherf—” Cain breathed, but I cut him off by shoving him to the side, eager to get a closer look at the message. Because the letters were slowly fading.
Remembering the signs that had led me here, and how Cain hadn’t seen them, I whipped out my phone and took a hasty picture, shaking my head in disbelief. At first, I had thought it was some elaborate light display built into the marble. But I could hear and feel a faint hum in the air, like the beginning of a distant song. As I focused on it, goosebumps prickled down my arms.
That song practically screamed magic—but it was unlike any magic I had ever experienced before. It was taunting and enticing, like a Siren’s call. I checked the image on my phone—because one never knew with magic being involved—and let out a shaky breath of relief. I had a good memory, so wasn’t concerned about forgetting the words, but this way I had proof. Unlike the other signs that had led me here.
I made sure to save the picture to my cloud storage account so I could check it later from a larger screen if needed. I wasn’t a tech nerd or anything, but perhaps there was more to the message than could be seen on my phone’s small screen.
I glanced up to find Cain looking like he was on the verge of vomiting. He immediately began to shake his head. “No way, Callie. This is a terrible idea, and that’s coming from the guy who made one of the first bad decisions in human history—preceded only by my mother.”
Eve chomping on the apple. Right. Not really much of an argument there.
“Do you know something about this?” I asked. Because Cain looked suspiciously aware of exactly what this was all about. He was shaking his head too adamantly. “Cain…” I warned, using my mom voice.
“Callie, this is bad. Very, very bad. I don’t care what ideas Michael put in your head about finding answers. If this is what he meant, it’s not worth it.”
“It doesn’t seem to matter whether I participate or not. Someone is going to go after the Temple. It’s a foregone conclusion.” I pointed at the fountain. “It said many will seek.”
He gave me a stern look. “And only one may find,” he said, completing the quote.
I waved off his concern, pulling out the Seal of Solomon to remind him that it’s contact with the fountain was what had revealed the message in the first place. “I’ve got a ticket to play. I was led here with the newspaper, the flyer, all of it.” He sighed in defeat, but seemed adamant to not give up in his opinion. “Come on, Cain,” I added, sighing as I placed my hands on my hips. “I’m kind of guaranteed to win anyway. I’m blood-related to the guy! And this seems like exactly what the Angel was talking about.”
He was shaking his head adamantly. “You don’t want to do this, Callie. Only one person can win. All the others die!” He looked about to explode with frustration.
“So, you’re saying there’s a chance…”
He took a deep, calming breath, staring at the fountain. Then he frowned suspiciously. “Maybe none of this is even true. Maybe no one has ever won the damned thing. I don’t recall ever hearing about a victor. Just because—”
“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge…” a man’s voice interrupted Cain from behind the fountain. Cain spun with a feral snarl, gripping his dagger with white knuckles.
The man strode out into the open, wearing jeans and a flannel. He was a fit, middle-aged man, and almost boringly handsome, if that makes any sense. The kind of guy you’d be satisfied being married to when the other polo-clad husbands were lined up at the grill for a neighborhood block party. “You should heed your friend’s advice,” he said, studying us.
“Unless you want to get baptized, you should take your preaching elsewhere,” I warned.
The man smiled—a sad, disappointed smile. “Fools despise wisdom and instruction,” he said. “The Sons of Solomon will pray for your soul.”
Then he pulled out a pistol and began firing.
I flung my hand up instinctively and a black fan materialized between us, shielding the bullets even as I gasped in surprise. What the hell? We were in the heart of downtown and Father Tombstone hadn’t even batted an eye at unloading his lead sermon on us.
“I told you!” Cain snarled, hurling his insanely large knife at the man. It struck him in the throat, almost decapitating him as it knocked him into the fountain. The crystalline water bloomed crimson almost instantaneously. “We’re leaving. Now.” Cain commanded.
I nodded stupidly, still stunned at the drastic escalation of the preacher. “Right. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Wrong,” Cain snapped, gripping me forcefully by the bicep and steering me towards the trees. “We won’t be talking about it. We’re done.” He raised his voice loudly. “You hear that? We’re done! We’re not playing!”
“Who are you shouting at?” I hissed as Cain dragged me closer to the path that had led us here. I cringed at the sound of incoming sirens from the nearby police precinct. “I’d like to get away without letting the police know we were here!”
“He wasn’t talking to the police, child,” a woman said, stepping out from the trees. I skidded to a halt, blinking in confusion. Because it was Cleo, the beautiful, black-haired scholar from the party last night, and she held a sinister vial in one hand, poised to hurl at us as she walked closer. Cain glared at her and the vial like a caged dog, and I wondered if he recognized her from the party as the woman I had warned him to keep an eye on.
Men never listen.
Unfortunately, Cleo had an entirely different look on her face than she had last night. It was the suicidal smile of one so devoted to their cause that nothing could sway them.
And the way she was gripping her vial let me know it was a hairline fracture away from being crushed—and that none of us would survive the result. Clenching a fist was faster than Cain drawing a blade, and I couldn’t see a way to use my magic to simultaneously lock up all five of her fingers without breaking the glass myself.
Cleo nodded, seeing the comprehension in my eyes. “If air touches the contents of this vial, we all die. And I put a drop of my blood inside, so if my heart stops, we all die.”
We nodded carefully so as not to startle her.
“It’s a shame, Callie. I had such a pleasant time speaking with you at the party. We could have even become friends, perhaps.”
“Still can, Cleo,” I suggested.
She shook her head sadly, but her eyes were feverish. “You should never have concerned yourself with Solomon’s Temple. It is not a prize for the uninitiated. This has been my life’s purpose, preparing for the day the Temple reappeared. I’ve spent decades of my life studying Solomon lore, preparing for this ultimate trial, this test of knowledge…The Song of Solomon. I even mastered potions to extend my years in the hopes I would live to see this day. I’ve walked the earth where the Temple once stood, tasted the air, dreaming I would one day walk in the Temple Gardens…” she said wistfully.
“Well, it’s open, now. Why don’t you just book a flight since you know where it is?” I asked.
Cleo cast me a very condescending look, one that almost made me wither in shame. “It never reappears in the same place twice. Everyone knows that.” She checked the clearing and the trees to make sure we were still alone.
“Waiting for a friend?” I asked, sensing a potential opportunity.
She scoffed. “The Sons of Solomon pretend to be a family, but everyone knows only one will enter the Temple at the end. It’s a game, using each other to progress, but not so far as to risk losing the ultimate prize to them.”
Sons of Solomon? I’d never heard of them, but they sounded like a pretty deadly book club.
“Which brings me back to you. I don’t know how you discovered the fountain in the first place, but I saw you take a picture of the message, so I’m going to need your phone. I’d rather not risk walking down there myself. All sorts of crazies sneaking around here this morning.”
“Give you the phone and you’ll let us live?” Cain asked carefully.
She shook her head. “I’m afraid this is the end to your quest. I cannot allow the Vatican to take my prize.”
I frowned openly. “The Vatican? I no longer work for the Vatican.”
She gave me a very dry, pointed look, indicating my scarf with a quick flick of her eyes. I cursed inwardly, remembering that my scarf had a big Cross Pattée on the front, and it must be showing. I didn’t bother arguing about it because from the conversation, I was pretty sure she would have simply justified another reason to kill us for her precious Temple.
Long story short, she had no intention of us ever leaving the park.
Chapter 17
Cain cleared his throat gently. “Give her the phone, Callie. We aren’t playing, remember?” He glanced at Cleo with a calming look. “Just the wrong place at the wrong time. We will even swear an oath not to search for the Temple.”
I nodded to Cleo, trying to look sincere. “I will swear to it. You can have the phone.” Cain was up to something, probably picking up on the fact that Cleo had no intention of letting us leave, sworn oath or not. But taking an aggressive stand was a great way for all three of us to die for our pride.
I slowly reached into my coat pocket, watching Cleo’s eyes as I withdrew my phone using my first two fingers, not my thumb—also the best way to pick pockets, believe it or not. My reason for using the grip was simple. It looked precarious and awkward, drawing the eyes.
It worked.
Cain had been watching for it, too, and w
as a heartbeat faster than me.
I didn’t even see him move. But I saw the spray of blood as he neatly severed her wrist and shoved us both clear of her potion. Cleo shrieked in agony, her free hand reaching up to grasp her stump before she even considered the potion falling to the earth.
“The Sons of Solomon will hunt you to the ends of the Earth!” she screamed. Cain and I rolled away frantically to escape the blast radius and I flung up my hand. A wall of liquid silver rose up between us, shielding me from the blast as the ground around her erupted with purple flame in a ten-foot-wide circle so hot that I felt the skin of my face tighten, despite my shield. I had never used my Silver magic to do that before, but I’d learned it was based on raw need, so my subconscious must have decided I needed some added protection from her potion.
Cain stared down at his dagger, frowning momentarily, but then he was tugging me to my feet. “Get us the fuck out of here!” he snarled, eyes scanning the woods around us for the next threat. I saw two more silhouettes racing our way, probably drawn to the blast, so I gripped Cain’s hand and focused my mind on Roland’s church to Shadow Walk us the fuck out of this crazy park.
I felt a tug of resistance like someone had bumped my funny bone, but my magic still seemed to work, yanking us away to safety—
I gasped in confusion to find that something had gone horribly wrong with my Shadow Walking, because I was somehow perched atop the damned fountain. And there were about a half-dozen new people in the vicinity, all keeping a cautious distance from each other.
Cain, still gripping my hand from Shadow Walking, had unfortunately appeared above the water rather than the fountain. The undefeated champion named gravity immediately grabbed him by the ankles and yanked him down, taking me right along with him. I snapped my lips shut at the last minute, remembering the pool was now spiked with blood from the flannel guy Cain had killed.
Sinner: Feathers and Fire Book 5 Page 9
