“Everyone seemed ready to turn on another until this newest arrival casually trotted up to Paradise and Lost, all alone and in front of everyone, and bowed. I couldn’t tell who was more surprised. Paradise and Lost, the Midwest King, or Drake and Cowan. As easy as that, everyone teamed up against the Midwest King – who was still waiting for his grand duel against Gunnar.” She shrugged. “Things escalated.” Then it started to rain, her dry tone said.
I shook my head in disbelief, but I was pretty sure I knew at least a small part of what was going on – even though I didn’t understand a lick of the why. Callie frowned at me, silently noting the calculating look on my face.
I lifted my hand. “That’s White Fang. The trickster. The puppet master,” I said, pointing at the big shaggy gray wolf. The one who had led the Kansas City wolves here. I was pretty sure he had somehow led everyone here. Probably telling them all exactly what they wanted to hear in order to get them all in the same place at the same time.
She was shaking her head. “No, I heard his name is Jessie. I’m sure of it.”
Everything stopped, my mind going blank for a moment or two.
My smile evaporated. I slowly turned to face her, unable to speak for a few moments.
“I’ll be right back. I think I’m going to go kill him,” I finally said without any emotion in my voice. Then I hesitated, thinking about it harder. “Or kiss him,” I amended. I wasn’t quite sure what I felt like doing at the sudden revelation.
Deciding I would figure out that little detail on the way, I stepped forward, ready to—
The gates to Chateau Falco suddenly opened and everyone turned to look. Two massive wolves, both in their Fae forms, which was so much scarier than a simple Alpha, stepped forward. One was white, and one was black. I folded my arms as a smile slowly crept over my face. “Let them clean up their own mess,” I decided. Gunnar and Ashley swept the armies of wolves before them with a silent, considering look.
I heard Achilles pleading with Leonidas to take his bet, but I didn’t bother to look. I simply tucked my spear into my satchel, approached my leather throne, scooped up a tub of popcorn, and sat down. I ate a few bites, watching the spectacle before us, considering taking Achilles’ bet. I felt Callie’s hand touch mine as she reached inside my tub of popcorn.
She didn’t immediately move it, so I slowly followed that arm up.
To find her sitting on the arm of my leather chair, inches away, smiling at me with a guilty shrug. The setting sun illuminated her hair with vibrant pinks and oranges, like neon highlights, making her look deliciously savage.
I decided I could get used to that.
Chapter 56
I realized that the dragons had ceased fighting at notice of Gunnar and Ashley’s arrival. I spotted Dirty Gerty’s giant blue and gold dragon glaring venomously at the wolves, making me frown thoughtfully.
“Is this normal?” I said out loud. “Taking breaks?” Gunnar and Ashley still hadn’t moved.
Achilles chimed in, seeing that I seemed to have calmed down a little. “Not that I’ve ever seen, but there seems to be a lot of confusion. Been a hell of a scrap anyway, though. You should have seen Paradise and Lost and those crimson eyes of theirs. Like death walking. Made some of Gunnar’s wolves look like new pups.”
I nodded, studying the dragons absently. I wondered how my own little scheme was playing out. The deal I had made with those demons. I didn’t relish making good on that payment, but Temples always paid the piper. I chuckled to myself, sensing Callie’s hip brush my shoulder.
I refocused. Maybe my little games were helping with the confusion. A little. Enough.
Tory was rubbing her arms absently, looking anxious as she stared at the dragons. No doubt looking for the Reds. Something about the way she sat told me she didn’t want me to come over.
Her daughters were dragons, and she feared for them. I didn’t see Yahn – but that was understandable since he could turn invisible – or the Reds in the fighting. Luckily, there were only about two dozen dragons in the fight, not hundreds like the wolves.
I turned back to Gunnar in time to see him striding up to White Fang.
Jessie.
It really wasn’t fair since Gunnar was in his bipedal Alpha form and Jessie was in his four-legged wolf form. Then again, the son of a bitch didn’t deserve fair – not for what he had done. Gunnar gripped him by the back of the neck and hoisted him up as if to bite off his head.
Gunnar was a problem solver. Old school.
I realized I was gleefully gobbling my popcorn now, distant ideas and decisions tumbling around my head – things I had only first truly considered in my prison cell – as I waited for my friend to do the damned thing. Everyone around me had gasped, wondering why Gunnar was about to kill an obvious ally of his pack. I waited.
Gunnar snorted and abruptly tossed him aside, cocking his head and snarling. He looked… confused. I grinned, sensing Callie watching my reactions just as closely as the confrontation. I let her. It felt nice to catch onto something before she did.
Ashley turned from Gunnar to the submissive large gray wolf, sniffing the air. She sneezed. Gunnar barked at him, and Jessie – White Fang – finally climbed to his feet, shaking his fur. Then the three of them turned to the Midwest King, who was glaring at Gunnar with pure hatred…
And anticipation.
Gunnar rolled his shoulders twice, and then lazily strolled up to the challenging Alpha. He stopped a pace away from him and just fucking stared with his one eye. The Midwest King snarled. Gunnar didn’t react or respond. The Midwest King raised his claw suddenly, slashing down towards Gunnar’s face, but stopped when Gunnar…
Still didn’t move. I blinked. Spot had tried to make Gunnar flinch? Was that a thing?
Gunnar let out a yawn and I burst out laughing, the only sound on the property. It boomed like thunder, rolling across the lawn bathed in the light of the setting sun. My lawn.
Callie was gripping my arm, eyes locked on the fight. I might have flexed. You always flex when a pretty woman grabs your arm. Man rule number thirty-eight.
The Midwest King’s outrage finally bubbled over, maybe a result of my laughter, and he brought his claw all the way down in one blazingly fast swipe.
But Gunnar was faster. His body was motionless as he shot his claw forward like a spear – those diamond claws glittering in the fading sunlight – and stabbed directly through the Midwest King’s forearm and then retracted just as quickly – almost too fast to believe it really happened. That was it. He didn’t do anything else. In fact, both of Gunnar’s furry arms now hung lazily at his sides, one covered in blood, the other still pristinely white.
The Midwest King darted back two paces, gripping his forearm as he howled in both pain and anger. Gunnar watched him.
Ashley turned away from the fight, studying White Fang – or Jessie – as if he was infinitely more interesting than her husband’s little argument with the new neighbor. Mama wolf had her puppies to take care of.
As if her decision had flipped a switch, every single werewolf on Gunnar’s side… turned their backs on the larger opposing army. They hunkered down in the grass and lowered their heads as if to take a nap.
“Wow. Talk about disrespect,” Callie breathed.
“There was never a fight,” I said, grinning proudly between mouthfuls of popcorn.
The Midwest King saw this wave of disrespect and it was just too much to take. He lunged at Gunnar, snapping his jaws at my best friend’s face. Gunnar took one single perfect step to the diagonal and swung his other paw up, slicing off the Midwest King’s head. Blood fountained in the air as the head spun in lazy circles. Gunnar was already walking away when the head landed a few paces ahead and to the right of him. He glanced at it as if a thought had just struck him.
He looked at his pack, all facing away from him. “I forgot to ask his name. Did anyone catch it?” he asked them, pointing at the head. “That one,” he clarified since they weren’t looking.
A few had glanced back, tongues lolling as they panted lazily. “Anyone?”
My voice shattered the silence. “SPOT!”
Gunnar looked at me, waved a crimson claw in gratitude, and then nodded at the severed head, the matter settled.
Gunnar’s wolves were napping, and the Midwest King’s pack looked as if they had been turned to stone. Then they all hunkered down submissively to their new king.
Still, Gunnar didn’t look back for a long minute. He finally turned.
“Anyone who has even one positive thing to say about how… Spot ran things has one hour to leave town. Everyone else, talk to these two.” Drake and Cowan – even though not named, stood and trotted over. “You’re all in charge of cleaning up my best friend’s lawn. Or his butler will kill you and use your hides for fur rugs. I’ve got a few things to take care of. Dismissed.”
Paradise and Lost shared a long look with Ashley before she gave them a brief nod. Then they were following after Drake and Cowan to help.
Gunnar and Ashley were already walking towards us. I saw no sign of Jessie. White Fang.
Dirty Gerty shouted in the silence. “Forget the wolves! Where is your King? Raego led us to this, but he is nowhere to be found. As you die to defend his supposed honor, he hides, unaware – or unconcerned – of your allegiance! Is this what you want in your King? He doesn’t care about you. The Council does!”
A line of dragons hunkered low, eyes narrowing as they snorted flame, standing against Dirty Gerty and the four Council members, looking determined, but not entirely confident.
An ear-splitting roar boomed through the grounds. I glanced up to see Raego – in giant black dragon form – perched on my roof. He spread his wings wide, shooting a geyser of black flame into the sky, fanning the fire with his wings to make it larger. Then he lowered his snout, dark smoke puffing from his nostrils, and leapt off my mansion. I noticed a dozen dislodged tiles sliding down the roof and glared at him as he glided over to land beside my chair. He locked eyes with me and dipped his head. “Family, right?” he said with a disgusted snort, staring at his grandmother.
Dirty Gerty screamed something not very nice about us, but the dragons ignored her, intent to hear what Raego had to say about… whatever it was that had brought them all here. Obviously, where he had been would also be a hot topic, if I were a betting man. But they kept their battle lines just in case. Raego turned to look at her, and something about that look made every dragon grow very still. “I’ll be with you in a moment, grandmother dear…” he snarled, snorting a small puff of black fog that turned a patch of my lawn to obsidian grass.
My lawn!
Her pupils dilated at his words, and she gathered her four Council members around her in a huddle, speaking in low, gruff tones with them.
“What’s really going on here, Raego,” I asked, confident the dragons weren’t about to bring the fight over here. “Or should I say Jessie?”
His lips pulled back in a slight smile, but both of us ignored the gasps of surprise from my friends. “I thought you would find out sooner, but then you took a vacation,” he said. I grunted, shooting him a wry look. “My grandmother came to retrieve a stolen item from your vault.”
I frowned at the way he emphasized the last word. “I don’t have a Vault here…”
“Oh? No vault? How… unfortunate for her. She must have received bad information…” He glanced pointedly at the wolves. “I wonder who else received bad information… Something to bring them all together…” He turned back to me, his black eyes sparkling for a moment. Then he winked. “I guess it’s a good thing we had Tory looking into that theft. As an impartial third party. Good thing the Council agreed to hire her or things might look… suspicious.” He sounded very pleased, but Tory wasn’t smiling. She was staring at the dragons. And she looked pissed.
What the hell? Why had I been dragged into this shit show? I suddenly wished I’d had time to talk to the demons I had hired. It didn’t seem like they had done their job very well.
“I’m not killing your grandmother, Raego.” I said at a sudden thought, leaning closer so only he could hear me. And Callie, of course, since she was practically laying on top of me in her eagerness to eavesdrop. I didn’t tell her to move. That would have been rude.
“You’ve already killed one of my relatives. What’s one more? If I do it, the entire nation could turn on me.” I didn’t need to tell him I had just obliterated his father in Hell. Not that I thought he would really care, but it wasn’t really a good time right now. Maybe later.
“So, you would rather have them turn on me?” He shrugged as if saying I’m open to ideas. “Just… take care of this, Raego. I’m feeling grumpy.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” he purred mockingly. Then he let out a roar, calling off Dirty Gerty’s huddle and motioning her over to come explain herself.
I rolled my eyes, settling into my chair as I let out an annoyed breath. Aye aye, Captain had been something my employees used to say to me at my bookstore, Plato’s Cave.
This wasn’t over yet, but things had just gotten a lot more interesting.
Because I had remembered the name Jessie when Callie said it. He’d been a worthless employee of mine at Plato’s Cave many years ago. Right around the time dragons began invading my city. I later found out that Raego had been hiding from his father in plain sight, disguised as my terrible employee, Jessie.
Because that was something I had forgotten about a black dragon.
They could shapeshift into… well, anything. Anyone.
And I was pretty sure… Jessie had been doing it for quite some time now.
He was White Fang. I was almost sure of it.
But that brought up an interesting question.
Would the fake White Fang please stand up?
Chapter 57
Raego slowly sauntered up before his grandmother. The four ancient dragons on the Council stepped up beside her, facing the Obsidian Son. Simply put, they were stunning. Majestic. And powerful.
“Everyone is aware that I could simply turn you all into new lawn ornaments, right?” Raego asked with another puff of smoke that turned yet more of my lawn into obsidian blades of grass. “Or that I could mind-fuck the lot of you to get what I want?” He didn’t sound the least bit concerned. As if the effort might be easier than the act of stating it out loud.
The Council shared cold, but considerate looks with each other, Raego, and then…
“Resorting to threats! If we don’t—” Gertrude began.
Raego silenced her with another blast of smoke at her feet, trashing even more of my lawn.
“But I’d rather talk things out. I think discussion will be… enlightening.”
The dragons considered this, sharing looks.
Gunnar and Ashley had finally reached us. “Your throne is pointing the wrong way,” he said.
I looked up at him, realized he was right, so made a pompous gesture for him to move it. He blinked at me for a moment. And then with a snarl, he and Ashley fucking picked up the chair, knocking Callie into my lap – bonus! – and rotated it to face the dragons.
They set it down harder than necessary, and something about their snarling faces looked amused. I slid over for Callie to make herself comfortable, and then wrapped an arm around the back of the chair. Not around Callie, but the back of the chair. Gunnar gave me another one of those amused looks and I scowled before turning back to the dragons.
Baron was the slate gray dragon with orange eyes – which was strange. Normally the eyes matched the skin. His scaled hide looked to be made of stone – like the kind used at Stonehenge. His head more resembled a triceratops than a dragon, complete with almost yard-long horns above the eyes, on the nose, and a wicked sharp beak at the tip of his snout. His wings even seemed to sport moss like the damp stones back in England.
Chu was the pale blue dragon. He was long and thin, easily twice as long as the others, but much shorter with stubbier legs and wings like fins down his sides.
He had a long, thin snout. And yes, he did have turquoise catfish whiskers hanging from his chin, matching his goatee.
Enya was a vibrant emerald dragon, her scales seeming to glisten like the gemstone. She was the one I had seen spitting poison at another of the dragons. Her scales were much smaller and uniform, making her flesh look sleek like a python, but she was much taller than the others, with a long, gracefully thin neck. She smirked at me in my chair. I think. I felt Callie glance at me and wisely pretended not to notice either woman.
Malik was a yellow dragon with white stripes, which looked pretty cool. There was exactly nothing special about him. Just a big yellow dragon – as boring as he had been as a human in the meeting where I had first met him.
I saw Ivory standing behind him, a pale dragon covered in spikes and spines as if he was actually made of bone, like a skeleton of a dragon. He didn’t have wings. Two smaller sapphire colored dragons stood within view of Chu, side by side like identical twins. They had black spikes down their backs, but were otherwise unremarkable. I was sure they were the asshole guards I had immediately disliked. None of them bore signs of the battle. No wounds.
Which meant they had either hung back during the fighting or they were dangerous.
Then there was Dirty Gerty, a large blue and gold dragon, standing a few paces ahead of her Council members. Horns and spines trailed down her back leading up to the horned crest around her head. I knew she could spit an almost napalm-like fire, and she looked ancient.
None of them looked eager for a fight, but neither did they think they should back down from their cause – whatever that was. Their cold, predatory eyes respected Raego’s powers, and his position, but they were not pleased with him. I could tell they would oblige Raego with a fight if he didn’t answer them the way they wanted. Maybe even if he did. And with their superior numbers, Raego might have a decent fight on his hands, even being the Obsidian Son. Because these dragons were old. Their scales were thick, and their claws looked more like aged ivory than shiny claw. Like they could tear through anything.
Nine Souls: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 9 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 29
