B suddenly wrapped himself around my palm, and my mind exploded with visions.
Wolves tearing through the streets at night, hundreds of them.
Dragons arguing hotly with each other, on the verge of violence.
Yahn and the Reds arguing with Tory.
Alucard and Roland talking in a dirty, dilapidated building that looked like an old church.
I gasped as B let go. I gripped Grimm’s feathered mane with both fists, reeling with dizziness to find I was flying hundreds of feet in the air, not standing in St. Louis. I panted, shaking my head. I glanced down at B. “Thank you, B. When… when was this?” I managed.
“Before I came to find you. I don’t know time very well yet. They spoke of war coming soon when I left. Perhaps he has already left again?”
I flinched. “War, a person?” I asked nervously.
Grimm answered for me. “No. Not the Rider. The bubbling cauldron between factions that White Fang has riled up.” He snorted suddenly. “Looks like they’re expecting us.”
I glanced up to see masses of shades and Candy Skulls on the other side of the Arch where we had first entered Hell so long ago. I placed a comforting hand on B’s head and then closed the satchel. I gritted my teeth as Grimm flapped his wings harder.
“Looks like they’re throwing a going away party,” I muttered.
Chapter 54
We sailed upon the army of shades ready for an all-out, hair-pulling, eye-gouging fight.
But… they didn’t even seem aware of us. They were fighting… each other. No, wait. One person. I think it was a person. I squinted as Grimm flapped his wings, changing course to aim for the exit, noticing we might avoid a fight after all.
If Grimm was anxious to run from a fight, the odds were not in our favor.
My blood chilled as I recognized the one creature standing against Hell’s army. “Grimm, we need to get out of here. Now. Before we become collateral damage in their fight.”
But I needn’t have bothered.
My old roommate stood near the bubbling pit of oil I had first landed in after falling into Hell. He faced the horde of shades and Candy Skulls and simply flung his hands up. Every single creature toppled over, slamming into the monster behind, row upon row, collapsing like deathly dominos.
My roommate brushed off his hands, looking much more physical now but still smoking, and then shot up into the air like his cloud form I had seen, straight up towards the exit.
Rather than wait for everyone to get up, I urged Grimm after him. I knew I had no chance of defeating him. Not now. Not after all I’d been through. Maybe not ever. I needed help.
We very quietly followed the insanely strong cloud out of Hell, as quiet as three mice.
Except, as we entered the vertical tunnel, the black glass ceiling was solid. Had it already resealed? As I was frowning, I failed to notice the bat-like Candy Skull suddenly launching off the wall just above us, aiming straight for Grimm.
I flung out a sudden whip, but didn’t do more than annoy him before he struck Grimm in the face. I prepared to lash out over Grimm’s neck, but was surprised to see the bat hanging limp, his torso firmly gripped between Grimm’s jaws and his neck neatly impaled on Grimm’s horn, leaving a few inches poking out the other side.
He spat out the body, grunting as he flapped his wings harder. “Hold on very tightly.”
Then the tip of his horn struck the glass ceiling above and over the thunderous crashing sound, I heard a familiar roaring behind us.
“Don’t let Mordred escape, you fool!” Anubis. But… hadn’t my roommate already escaped?
That’s when I saw a dark shadow zip past us, having been hiding on the rock wall below the glass ceiling. As he flew by, he murmured in that chilling, rasping voice. I almost managed to make out the features of his face in the black smoke.
“That’s twice you’ve broken me out of a cage, wizard. Perhaps we’ll meet again soon…”
Then he was gone, fading to nothing like fog before a sunrise.
Grimm landed in the powdery ash, snorting and shaking his head free of the dead Candy Skull. It crumbled to nothingness, leaving behind only the mask. Since this one seemed less damaged than mine, Grimm picked it up with his teeth, tossing it back to me.
I took off my own mask, compared the two, and then tossed my old one aside.
I opened the flap of the satchel, making sure B was still there. “We’re out. Not home yet, but we’re out of Hell.” I wrapped my arms around Grimm’s neck. “Thank you, old friend. You saved our lives.”
Surprisingly, he didn’t comment, simply leaned into me, neighing happily.
I smiled, pulling away, gauging this wasteland. Then I patted him on the neck.
“I think I can take it from here, Grimm.” Not entirely sure what I was doing, I just did what the Map advised, and waved my hand in front of us. With a flash of darkness, a black Gateway erupted into existence, smoke shifting around the circular hole.
Grimm stamped a hoof, emitting sparks, as a view of Chateau Falco appeared before us. Several very startled faces turned to look at us, and their faces paled. But they had been sitting in lawn chairs eating popcorn as monsters fought in the distance. My lucky chair was outside with a beach umbrella propped up beside it. It was empty, or I might have started off by killing someone.
I stepped through, face like thunder, smoke billowing at mine and Grimm’s legs. “B, go to your mother. She’ll be wanting to see you. I’ll be along after I clean this mess up.” Grimm laughed, shaking black blood from his horn, the fog billowing around us.
I hadn’t even noticed that the Candy Skulls bled. I stared down at my hands to find them covered in the black liquid. I wiped it off on my pants before glaring at those before me.
I let the Gateway close behind me.
Chapter 55
I didn’t have time for pleasantries. I was a ball of barely restrained fury at finding such chaos on my property. I briefly swept the VIP area around me. Achilles sat with Leonidas, drinking beers and eating popcorn.
Tory sat alone, near the edge of the small group.
Callie was on her feet watching me steadily. She wore tight white jeans, a dark plain tee and a red hoodie. And she was wringing her hands uncertainly before her stomach. She looked like she’d been crying recently, judging by her red-rimmed eyes. Not in the past few minutes, but as if she’d had a rough night or long day. Not knowing what else to do, I tossed the Candy Skull on the grass between us. “Problem solved,” I said in a gruff voice. There. Nice and considerate.
Maybe that would make her not sad anymore. She didn’t even look at it.
Feeling uneasy under her gaze and angry at the fighting, I turned my attention to the wars on either side of this VIP area. The death and destruction was illuminated by the setting sun. Falco – still weak from giving birth – hadn’t been able to put a stop to this madness herself. And my friends had just… watched.
Drinking beer. Eating popcorn.
Sensing our area was safe from immediate danger, I glanced about fifty yards to my left, past the small white treehouse sitting like a tranquil haven in the grass.
Tides of wolves fought in tight units – Ghosts and Paws striking like surgical scalpels. But they fought other wolves, so it wasn’t as efficiently ruthless as usual. Still, many died before them. Survivors of skirmishes fled to rejoin a new hasty gathering of their fellow wolves before turning back to the fight – safety in numbers. There had to be almost eight hundred wolves still fighting, not even counting the torn bodies of naked people strewn across the fields and bushes…
Ruining my lawn.
Like empty red cups after a kegger party. That’s how I saw them.
Whomever I let survive was going to clean this mess up. Or Dean was going to be impossible.
I spotted two shaggy black wolves with crimson eyes – Paradise and Lost – each leading their own Paws of five werewolves that shared their body type. The Kansas City breed looked very different
than the stocky St. Louis timber wolves. They were taller, longer, narrower at the waist, but more barrel-chested. Their necks stretched higher and their snouts were more elongated. They had wavy, silky hair that formed thick manes around their throats and down their broad chests. Basically, the two breeds were equally lethal, but different in aesthetics and functionality.
The KC Crew were nimbler and faster, but didn’t look as powerful in a direct charge.
They could jump further, but they couldn’t shake their prey as violently.
Weight-wise, I didn’t think they were any bigger than Gunnar’s wolves, but the Kansas City breed almost made my hair stand up on edge. They just looked… more demonic.
Like Hellhounds. Especially Paradise and Lost with their crimson eyes, but that had something to do with their bond to Roland, the vampire ex-Shepherd.
But why were there so many Kansas City wolves here?
I spotted Drake and Cowan – at least wolves that matched the description Gunnar had given me before leaving for his honeymoon – each leading their own Paws, and I realized that the four clusters – Paradise, Lost, Drake, and Cowan – actually formed one Ghost, working together as if they’d done it their whole lives. I let out a breath of relief, glad to find that Paradise and Lost hadn’t been fighting Gunnar’s wolves while he was on his honeymoon. After a few minutes, the wolves slowly separated into two distinct packs, glaring at each other over…
My fucking lawn.
At least this let me clearly see the battle lines, better able to discern enemy from ally. The enemy was larger, but not twice as large or anything, and it looked like Gunnar had lost a quarter of his pack so far. But that loss had been mitigated by about a hundred Kansas City wolves.
A giant black wolf with a white spot on his chest – for ease of reference with so many wolves running around, I dubbed him Spot – stood in front of the enemy pack. The Midwest King, I guessed. He was bigger, much bigger than the others. Then again, Spot was the only one in Alpha form, standing on two legs. At a quick glance, he seemed shorter than Gunnar, but wider in the shoulders and chest, believe it or not. And the mangy mutt was… staring right at me.
Luckily for him, he broke eye contact after a few seconds and then snarled at his pack. “Ten minutes!” he roared. His wolves took a few more steps back before gathering to nurse their wounds. He didn’t look at me again. The St. Louis and Kansas City wolves also rested.
Well, wasn’t this just professional of everyone. Why hadn’t I ever faced an enemy like this?
But more importantly, why was this happening on…
My lawn?
No longer distracted by the sounds of the fighting wolves, entirely different roars to my right made me turn to study the other battle, also about fifty yards away. Dragons tore up the earth and shrubbery where they fought. I saw a few in the woods, knocking down small trees but I didn’t notice any fires. Others were in the sky, slamming into each other with machete-sized claws and teeth, or blasting each other with a rainbow of different streams of magic. Blue jets of ice, red gouts of flame, even a green blast of acid that smoked on contact. Dragon skin was tough, though, so most of these blasts injured their opponents, but weren’t enough to bring them down on their own. Hence the fangs, horns, and claws.
But in combination, it was doing serious damage to…
My fucking lawn!
I didn’t see Raego in the chaos of battle and my scowl deepened.
“I leave everyone unsupervised and I come back to this? Who’s responsible? Give me an update.” No one around me spoke, simply staring at me in stunned silence. I didn’t have time for this. I was done with all the infighting between factions. All the drama. The hurt feelings. The egos. I had some serious shit on my plate with my brief roommate from Hell – Mordred – breaking loose, Matthias kidnapping my Knight, and Anubis… well, he probably wouldn’t be pleased by my quitting the job without giving the standard two-weeks’ notice. His Guide to Hell had done walked out because the benefits sucked.
I realized no one had yet answered. “NOW!” I roared, slamming my black spear into the ground beside me. The red ruby crackled with arcs of crimson electricity, and everyone flinched in fear. I hadn’t even realized I’d taken it out of my satchel. I also realized that no one seemed to have noticed B’s departure. I sure hadn’t. I glanced down to see that at least the black fog had dissipated, making me look less, well, like I had just stepped out of Hell to clean up a mess.
Leonidas seemed to be pretending I couldn’t see him, hunkered low in his chair. Achilles watched me from over his shoulder, looking very cautious. He slowly lifted a bottle of beer. “You’re home…” he said in the same tone a teenager would use when his parents unexpectedly returned home early from their vacation during the middle of his out-of-control house party.
My brow drew lower, the crimson sparks popping louder. Leonidas sank further in his chair.
“We, um, brought your chair out in… memory. In honor. Carl and Talon made it sound like you wouldn’t be back…” My face didn’t change. He jerked his head tensely. “Um, we didn’t do this. And… Gunnar should be here any minute! I had some guys waiting to pick him up at the airstrip.” Seeing my face still hadn’t changed, he blurted out, “Someone get this man a beer!”
No one moved.
A week, I thought, processing the worthwhile tidbits from Achilles’ nervous blabbing. A week since the wedding. Not months or weeks – just a few days – in Hell. It had felt a lot longer. I let out a breath of relief. Not that things were great, but at least it hadn’t been a year or something.
I sensed Callie slowly approaching me as if I was a wild, unbroken horse. I realized I was still standing beside Grimm, who looked very… intense, reflecting my mood. I placed a palm on his mane, patting his feathers soothingly. His muscles relaxed under my touch and he neighed.
Dragons continued fighting in the background, but they didn’t seem concerned with our VIP lawn party, so I let them continue as I stared at Callie, suddenly recalling – in entirely too vivid detail – the… gift Pandora had shown me outside her hot tub. My cheeks blushed.
“How are you, Nate?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Talon and Carl were… quite distraught when they arrived yesterday morning,” she said carefully, studying my leather coat, my lack of shirt, the black blood covering my bare chest.
“Passing fair,” I said roughly. “Since when was it my turn to host the Olympics?” I asked, pointing at the two wars on my lawn. “I thought I was everyone’s best enemy, not a public park.”
She abruptly stepped closer, eyes flashing with rage but… also relief? “Since when is going to the Fae the same as going to Hell?” she hissed, loud enough for only me to hear. Grimm snickered and she snapped her finger. “Quiet, you!” she shouted at my Alicorn in a voice loud enough for Dean to hear from inside the mansion. Grimm’s mouth snapped shut with a click, and he disappeared. I frowned in surprise before turning back to Callie. She had her arms folded, and I could tell that she was about ready to lose her faint grip on control. She was angry. And happy. Angrily happy. It became perfectly clear, and I wondered how I hadn’t seen it. She had thought she would never see me again. Someone had told her where I really went. Carl or Talon.
I let out a breath. Then another. “Later. Please, Callie. Later.”
She continued to glare at me for a few tense moments, and then finally nodded. “Later.”
We both paused, faint smiles flickering over our cheeks as we remembered that word from our last conversation inside Chateau Falco.
“Where are Carl and Talon?” I asked in a gentler tone, changing the topic for… well, later.
She hesitated, as if clearing her own head and debating whether or not I needed to know the answer right now with everything else going on around us. “Inside, watching over Alex.”
I had taken a step closer and was gripping her shoulder with one hand, my spear flaring brighter in the other. “Is Alex okay?” I whispered.
I let out a breath and released her shoulder. “Oh. Okay. You just… the way you said it…” I added. Then I just stopped talking. If she didn’t know about Pandora’s… lesson with Alex, I wasn’t going to bring it up. If I thought about that conversation too much – what Pandora had shown me – I might just end up letting everyone duke it out while I scooped up Callie, carried her inside my mansion and slammed the door shut, telling Falco to put up the do not disturb sign.
Indefinitely.
“Why is everyone just watching?” I jerked my chin at Achilles who was trying to hide the fact that he was now exchanging gold coins with Leonidas. Betting? I thought incredulously.
This was all so… gruesomely callous. My friends watching as blood was spilled all over…
My lawn!
Callie grimaced. “We were told by all parties to not get involved. All parties,” she enunciated. I grunted to show her what I thought of that. “I don’t know what their deal is,” she jerked her chin at the dragons before turning to the wolves, “But Drake and Cowan showed up first, to fight this Midwest King. The Midwest King showed up to fight Gunnar, for some reason believing he was back in town. The two packs were very confused for a few moments. Then Paradise and Lost arrived as if the world was about to end, but seeing the two packs gathered, they looked even more confused. Especially when this guy,” she pointed her finger, “showed up out of nowhere with a pack from Kansas City that have been in hiding for almost a year.”
I followed her finger to see a rangy, shaggy, gray wolf standing near – but still a respectful distance apart from – Paradise, Lost, Drake, and Cowan. He was a big bastard. I blinked. Instead of saying anything, I forced a nod, letting her know I was following along. She continued.
Nine Souls: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 9 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 28
