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Ascension: Nate Temple Series Book 13

Page 19

by Shayne Silvers


  I stopped, turning around to look at Carl, dismissing his knee-jerk reaction of averting his eyes. Lizards liked direct heat, but hot enough to burn us humans alive? Where the hell were we? I doubted that it was a pocket realm in Fae, because it felt…alien. Different somehow. I glanced at War, seeing he was also sweaty, but Alucard…looked fine.

  He noticed my attention. “New Orleans blood. I could walk into a steam room and not need a towel,” he said smugly.

  I finally shook my head and continued on. “No valley. We have enough problems back home to deal with, first.”

  I wasn’t going to explore the Elder Realm until I got some real answers from Carl. If he wanted to play the silent game, I would wait him out. Whatever reasons he had for his current actions, they were obviously important to him, but I also had important things on my mind.

  I noticed an unfinished statue near the entrance and slowed. On our initial walk through the cavern, I’d vaguely noticed it and promptly dismissed it as a boulder, my attention drawn to the waterfall instead. Looking at it now, I realized that it was another statue—a work in process.

  Jagged, unfinished wings sprouted out from a vaguely human silhouette, and enough work had been done on the face that I knew it was a man, not a couple. It looked to have been started with crude tools in order to first break off the larger, unneeded chunks of stone.

  I frowned, recalling the chipped and scored texture of Carl’s claws…

  Nah.

  Chapter 30

  We had rested up in the Armory, not wanting to risk running into anyone at Chateau Falco and then having to explain where we had found Carl, or why War was with me, or why we smelled like donuts, cigars, whiskey, and sweat.

  Pandora had taken one look at our sad state of affairs, sighed, and then left the room without a word. She’d come back a few minutes later with blankets, bars of soap, towels, robes, and ordering me to tell my friends where the healing hot tub was—which she repeated three times. Meaning we must have looked rougher than I’d thought.

  She had cocked her head upon seeing Carl’s mouth wired shut, but she hadn’t asked any questions. She had locked her door, though, which made me feel incredibly trustworthy and appreciated.

  I’d encouraged everyone to sleep through the afternoon, knowing that we might need our rest, depending on what Loki had found since last night. If he hadn’t found anything yet, I had enough other drama going on to keep me busy for one more day. In fact, it might even be preferable, but that all depended on how my next conversation went.

  So I’d left the gang behind, telling them to meet me in an hour at the same warehouse we’d used to summon Loki. Carl had seemed agitated to let me out of his sight, but I couldn’t very well walk him around Chateau Falco without drawing attention—even without his shiny new braces. Alucard had calmed him down, reassuring the Elder that they would both come hunt me down if I was late to the rendezvous.

  Which was how I found myself sneaking up from the tunnels outside the Armory and through the magical, secret door that led to my office. I stepped out and froze.

  “I already told you what our budget is, Felicia,” Othello said tiredly into the phone, but her eyes did widen to suddenly see me appear out of nowhere. “Yes, yes, I understand, but…”

  I turned away to see Gunnar seated in a leather armchair, staring up at me with an arched eyebrow, his quartz-like eyepatch glittering as it reflected the glow from the fireplace.

  The exact two people I wanted to talk to but I needed to talk to them separately, damn it!

  “Pop quiz time,” I said to both of them, recalling War’s warning about not knowing who I could really trust—that anyone I encountered might be Loki in disguise.

  “Hold on,” Othello said into the phone, sounding annoyed. “My boss is doing that eccentric thing I told you about.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Yes, I know it sounds endearing. But much like the first time a sleeping baby wakes himself up by farting too loudly, the humor fades when the habit continues on into adulthood.”

  Gunnar burst out laughing.

  I pointed a warning finger at him. “Silence.”

  “No, I’m not saying he—” Othello took a deep, calming breath, slapping her palm against her forehead. “Just fix the budget before tomorrow morning, and pay the rest of the vendors for crying out loud. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye, Felicia.” And she hung up the phone.

  Judging by her conversation, I was pretty sure it was really Othello, even if I didn’t know what vendors she was talking about. Was there some event for Plato’s Cave?

  Still, I had to be sure. I wasn’t letting her get off that easy. “What was my nickname in college?” I asked her.

  She arched her eyebrow at me, looking puzzled. “Pharos.”

  “Where did we study Russian?”

  She grinned wickedly. “Somewhere deep within a knot of sweaty, tangled sheets—”

  “Okay,” I said, cutting her off. “You’re good.”

  “Oh, I know I am,” she purred.

  I rounded on Gunnar, hiding my blush. “What was our fort called?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Chateau Defiance.”

  “What happened at your bachelor party in New Orleans?”

  “I was a perfect gentleman and caught up on my sleep,” he said as if reading a teleprompter. Othello snorted doubtfully.

  I nodded. “What do they now call us in New Orleans?”

  “Beerlympians.” Gunnar grinned proudly. “Allegedly.”

  I let out a sigh. “Good. You both passed. Now, what are you doing here?” I asked Gunnar.

  “Yes, Gunnar. Tell Nate what you’re doing here,” Othello said in a sickly-sweet tone.

  Gunnar sighed. “Apologizing for bringing the FBI here without warning her. Begging for her forgiveness,” he said in an overly shamed tone, glancing past me at her with one sad puppy eye.

  She snorted. “Fine. Apology accepted.”

  “Thank you, Othello.” Then he turned to me. “Good call on wearing a hat last night. It just barely did the trick of masking your identity. Agent Murphy and his partner, Agent Glass, even brought the picture to our meeting this morning,” he said dryly.

  I sighed guiltily. “Yeah, about that—”

  “But what I really want to know is why you roped War into your games rather than asking me,” he interrupted in an angry growl, and I could tell that deep down, my choice had actually hurt his feelings on a personal level. I knew this because he was subconsciously thumbing his new bone bracelet—his own Horseman Mask. But I also knew he was concerned about his pups, resulting in a conflict of desires. The angrier he was with me, the less it would seem he cared about his pups—a shitty thought to have, but I knew Gunnar well. That was exactly why he hadn’t ripped my head off yet. “What are you really up to? You and Alucard have been thick as thieves, and now you show up giving us a pop quiz?” he demanded, pointing at his chest and then Othello.

  I nodded. “I was going to tell you, but then Calvin and Makayla showed us their new trick,” I explained, fibbing a bit. “I also need someone I can trust to look after Chateau Falco for a little while longer. And, to be completely honest, I wasn’t too crazy about the whole my kids are wolves thing. I wanted you and Ashley both here to keep an eye on them. Which is actually what I came to talk to you about. Want to go for a walk?”

  His eye stormed over at my last sentence—me asking him, a werewolf, if he wanted to go for a walk. Shaking a leash in his face would have been less subtle.

  I grinned, holding up my hands. “That wasn’t even on purpose. Damn.”

  Gunnar relaxed and set his hands on the arms of his chair, preparing to stand.

  “If you two leave, I’m telling him all about Lullaby, Nate,” Othello warned.

  I spun to glare at her. “What the hell?” I demanded.

  “Okay, I’m going to tell him either way. I shouldn’t have tried to extort you.”

  I began to growl at her. “No, Othello. You don’t know what you’
re talking about.”

  She leaned forward daringly. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about. I’ve been doing some digging into our new pal, Niko, and her friends,” she explained, and I could actually feel Gunnar’s attention latching onto her words. “Chateau Falco may be in grave danger. I, for one, would encourage Gunnar—a Horseman—to stay here and hopefully keep us all safe.”

  I studied her and saw the genuine fear lurking in the depths of her eyes. She wasn’t bluffing.

  “Gunnar,” I said, staring Othello in the eyes, “I can’t tell you what I’m doing with Alucard and War, and I need you to promise that you won’t pry or you could jeopardize everything and put the entire world in danger. Sound like something you can manage?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation, but I knew he was holding back about a hundred questions.

  “Good. In return, I will come clean on something else I’ve been hiding from everyone—until last night when I roped in Alucard and Othello. I even lied about it to Callie—which cost me something big. In fact, I’m pretty sure I irreparably broke something between us in doing so. That’s how dedicated I am to keeping some things private.”

  The two of them stared at me in shock, not sure how to respond.

  “You both need to accept that I had my reasons for leaving you in the dark, and that it had nothing to do with your skills or abilities or anything like that. It was a tactical decision. Just like I’m not asking why you’re really meeting behind closed doors, or what budget Felicia is working on, because I sure as hell am curious. You two are scheming as well, but I trust your judgment. Let’s just leave it at that. Agreed?”

  They both nodded, looking shaken by my rapid-fire commands. And my suspicions were confirmed, judging by the purple spots on their cheeks. They are up to something as well.

  “From here on out, this is a feelings free zone. Facts only.” I glanced up at a clock on the wall. “Because I have very little time, so let’s get started.” I leaned against the fireplace so they could both see me as I ran through a quick history. I turned to Gunnar, first. “Remember that abduction attempt on me a few weeks back? With the black marble prototype from Grimm Tech?”

  Othello growled territorially. “I do now.”

  “Yes,” Gunnar said. “She called you right after, but you never explained or brought it back up, so I just assumed you killed her.”

  I frowned to hear that his first assumption had been that I murdered her. “I didn’t kill her, Gunnar. Her name is Niko. She used to be—or might still be—an assassin. There’s an app called Lullaby that mercenaries now use to list their assassination contracts. Niko has been helping me avoid early retirement by giving me forewarning about any assassins who accepted the billion-dollar price tag on my head.” His eye bugged out at the dollar amount, but I pressed on. “But she won’t help me find who posted the contract until I agree to meet with her in person, which I’ve obviously been reluctant to do. That is why she tried to abduct me in the first place. She thinks I’m dangerous, but she also has a conscience and says she doesn’t kill for money. As doubtful as that may sound, her actions so far have been consistent with it.”

  Gunnar nodded, his lips pursed tightly together, and he was forcefully gripping the arm of the chair, outraged to hear that his best friend had been in constant danger and that he hadn’t been informed.

  Othello looked equally shaken, but feelings were denied entry in this room.

  “Okay,” I said, turning to Othello. “Now that the facts have all been laid out, tell me what you found, and why you think Chateau Falco is in danger. Your news may impact what I was going to talk to Gunnar about.”

  She nodded, gathering a small stack of papers on her desk and straightening them like a lawyer preparing a case.

  Chapter 31

  Othello cleared her throat delicately. “I’ve been playing around with that Lullaby app. Pretty clever stuff. Apparently, even I had a contract on my head for a while, but it was archived years ago.”

  I grunted, wondering who wanted Othello—one of the world’s greatest hackers—dead. I also wondered what her boyfriend, the Horseman of Death, had to say about it. Maybe archived meant that the person who had originally posted the hit had been permanently archived—by her boyfriend murdering him to death.

  “Here is what set off my alarm bells. I found a new contract for someone who sounds suspiciously like Niko. It was posted late last night after you spoke with her. So I did a little research on the phone trace I did for you, wondering where in Colorado she was hiding out. This is from a satellite I hacked last night in order to get a visual.”

  I didn’t even bother reprimanding her for her felony. She laid out a picture on the desk. I walked over to inspect it.

  It showed an aerial view of a long, rectangular building surrounded by woods, and I could easily read the familiar words painted on the roof, as if they had been intended for a satellite picture: NATE TEMPLE WAS HERE.

  I grunted. “She anticipated your move.” Othello sniffed primly. “And it’s the same message Thor wrote in the parking lot of Buddy Hatchet,” I muttered, remembering the first time I’d met Thor—when we’d destroyed the Bifröst. I’d also teased Niko on the phone last night, telling her that I was considering writing those exact words down at the warehouse for the cops to find later. I handed it to Gunnar without looking at him.

  Othello nodded, her eyes now twinkling excitedly for some reason. “I was going to send a team there later today to remove it, so I took some more pictures this morning to get accurate directions for them, since the first image showed only woods and no roads.”

  She dropped another photo on the table, and this one showed a flickering green fire, the building already reduced to charred rubble and smoldering coals.

  I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “This morning?” I hissed.

  Othello nodded. “Mere hours after a contract for her head was posted to Lullaby. I think her fellow assassins figured out that she turned snitch. That she’s been helping you waylay their teams. And they went to Colorado to remedy that.”

  “I tried calling her early this morning but she didn’t answer,” I said, feeling sick to my stomach.

  Othello nodded. “I know. I saw.”

  “You’ve been watching my phone?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t act so surprised. I stalk everyone I care about. Especially when they’re talking to people like Niko. Anyway, when you called her, she was here in St. Louis. Not Colorado.” Othello noticed my sudden frown. “Exactly. Way too convenient. Someone must have warned her that she’d been compromised. So I did some more digging and found that someone else did call her before you, but the conversation was too short for me to trace the origin.” I shook my head. Was Niko that good, or incredibly lucky? “And that’s not even the strangest part,” she said. “Guess what her first stop was in St. Louis,” she said, leaning forward eagerly.

  I shrugged. “Purple.”

  “What?” she asked, her excitement deflating.

  “I hate it when people ask me to guess something. I’m going to guess wrong either way, so I’ve decided to start giving random bullshit answers. No offense.” She began tapping her finger on the desktop, not even remotely amused. I sighed, waving a hand for her to continue.

  “Niko went to…Buddy Hatchet. That axe throwing bar where you first fought Thor—the same place where he left the message that she duplicated on the roof in Colorado. That is one hell of a coincidence for that to be her backup safehouse.”

  I grunted, trying to process it all into a story that made sense. Because Kára, the Valkyrie, owned Buddy Hatchet. Were they friends? If so, was that a good thing?

  Was Kára telling Niko how great I was?

  Or was Niko warning Kára how dangerous I was?

  Or maybe Niko had simply been trying to send me a message in Colorado, using her painted roof to tell me where she was going next—a direct reference to the conversation we’d ha
d only hours before, using it like a coded verification phrase.

  No matter which reason was true, one major priority had just jumped to the top of my list. Because if Freya had followed my secret request—codename applesauce—Kára was now in a perfect position to hurt me and someone I cared about very deeply. If Kára was actually an enemy, of course—which wasn’t yet known.

  “Thanks, Othello. This helps more than you know. But what did you mean about Chateau Falco being in danger?” I asked, too focused on the Niko situation to think about much else.

  Othello slowly tapped her finger onto the second picture. “The same people who tried to kill her are likely after you. They firebombed this place with only a few hours notice. And green fire also suggests it’s from your side of the fence. Not your typical fire.”

  Then she leaned back in the chair, folding her hands over her waist.

  I slowly turned to Gunnar. “Um. Looks like you have a new job, Smokey, because only you can prevent wizard fires,” I said, pointing at the picture.

  He curled his lips menacingly and nodded one time, not even catching the reference.

  “It also segues into what I wanted to talk to you about,” I added. He frowned but urged me to continue. I took a deep breath. “I want to dip Calvin and Makayla in the River Styx and make them immune to harm like Achilles.”

  He stared at me incredulously.

  Othello let out a nervous breath. “Fuck me,” she breathed.

  Gunnar studied me, not blinking as he processed my idea. But he didn’t shout, and he didn’t yell at me. He understood the need—that something very strange was happening to his children. “I will need to talk to Ashley, of course. And based on Othello’s news—in addition to everything else we’ve recently seen—it would grant me peace of mind.”

  I grunted. “That’s an understatement.”

  He nodded soberly. “And I know you wouldn’t suggest such a drastic measure lightly. You are their godfather, Nate. We trust you on these sorts of things…”

 

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