He didn’t even blink at my curse. “No. Even I would have been ill prepared for such a night.”
I frowned, wondering if he was lying to make me feel better, but thinking back on the night, I reconsidered. Perhaps he was being truthful. It had been one hell of a turnout, so to speak.
“This man who thought he knew you. He was the first killed?”
I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach. “He seemed to know the murderer. He was accusing him of something right before everything went to he—” I amended my words, “sideways.” Roland nodded, thinking as he scratched his chin, and then grimacing as he subconsciously tried to shift his leg under the blankets. He wasn’t a man to sit still for long periods.
Claire had checked on him before zoning out, seeming to need the familiar routine actions to keep her from collapsing under her fright. His wounds were worse, almost as if infected. But after a few long minutes of study on a microscope that she pulled out of her bag, Claire had mumbled that something seemed to be holding back — even fighting — the infection. She had finally shrugged, saying she had done all that she could and that he needed his rest or he might lose the leg. Then she had stumbled over to the couch, and hadn’t spoken since.
“A Demon,” I murmured, sipping a cup of tea in my hands. Roland grunted. “But how?” I continued, frustrated. “Shouldn’t Angels be taking care of stuff like that?”
Roland met my eyes, watching me for a few moments, as if debating how much to tell me. He opened his mouth, but was interrupted as someone knocked on the door.
Claire squeaked, tugging up a blanket around her knees, her hair spilling down around her shoulders at the sudden motion.
I gave Roland a slow nod and climbed to my feet. “Who is it?” I called out, loud enough for them to hear me. It was late, and I wasn’t expecting visitors.
“Nate Temple. But anyone who screws me out of a million dollars and then steals my book gets to call me Master,” he added with a mirthless chuckle.
“Go away,” I said, glancing back at Roland, who was studying me curiously.
“No,” he said, sounding amused at my response.
I was about to threaten to call the cops when Roland spoke up. “Let him enter. I may not be able to stand, but Master Temple isn’t one to dismiss lightly…”
I blinked at him in surprise. “You know him?”
Roland was a few seconds in responding, and Temple knocked on the door, harder. “I’ve heard stories…” was all Roland said, staring at the door as if expecting Jesus or the Devil to walk through.
I let out a frustrated sigh, not particularly eager about letting him in. Either he was going to yell at me for costing him money, or make fun of my attempt to hang out with grownups.
But everyone had to pay the piper eventually. And I had taken the book as leverage against him in case he did manage to get the spear. I pulled the door open to see him standing there, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a takeout bag in the other. I frowned at the items, and he smiled politely.
“Thought we might have a bit to talk about,” he said, striding past me into the room. “Thief.”
He stopped dead at seeing Roland, shoulders suddenly flexing beneath his now disheveled suit coat. “Another wizard,” he muttered under his breath. I couldn’t tell if he sounded angry, alarmed, or intrigued.
The gleam in his eyes made me think of all those emotions, if that was possible.
“As long as it’s good wine,” I said, snatching the bottle from his unsuspecting hands and striding into the kitchen. It was then that I realized I wore only a long tee, hanging below mid-thigh, but not suitable for entertaining guests. I was too used to being around Roland and Claire. I could strut around naked for all Roland would be aware of. He had long ago given up on domesticating me. Probably because he quickly learned that the more he pressed, the harder I pressed back. So, I could have danced around topless and his gaze never would have strayed lower than my chin. Claire, of course, was my childhood friend, and we had helped each other dress up for various events for decades. Like sisters.
Still, I was suddenly glad Nate had brought wine.
Because tonight promised to get interesting.
Chapter 17
I had poured everyone a glass of wine, except for Roland. He got a juice box. Because I freaking loved juice boxes. The ones my parents used to give me as a kid when I was well-behaved. Being a responsible adult, I had seen no reason to discontinue the reward system.
Bad day? Juice box.
Great day? Juice box.
Sad? Juice box.
Happy? Juice box.
Bored? Juice box.
My reward system wasn’t very complicated.
Roland didn’t appreciate my offer. He must have had a shitty childhood, never earning rewards. That, or his parents had told him juice boxes are from the devil. Understandably, that neglected child had grown up to become a Shepherd as a result. To save the world from demonic people like me. Who loved juice boxes.
“I have a question before we get into the details, and you give me my book back,” Nate said.
Roland nodded.
“Did tonight’s events have something to do with you three or is it something I did?”
Roland let out a frustrated sigh. “It is my fault. I—”
“Thank god,” Nate interrupted, and then took a deep swallow of wine. His eyes tracked the room, then studied each of our faces as if cataloging what he saw. “This is what that feels like…” he murmured to himself, as if having a revelation of some kind.
Claire cocked her head, squinting at his words.
He noticed, and shot her a dazzling smile. “You looked particularly elegant tonight. And you didn’t run screaming when you saw monsters,” he added, tapping a lip. “Tough broad,” he complimented. I blinked. From elegant to broad. He needed to use some of his money to learn manners. He turned away from Claire to study Roland, not seeming aware of the reaction he had caused. Because Claire was grinning from ear to ear, idly wiping a loose strand of hair from her face. I lifted an eyebrow at her, silently chastising her. She quickly took a sip of her wine, hiding her embarrassment.
I turned back to Temple, expecting to see a rogue grin, and wanting to let him know in no uncertain terms that I didn’t appreciate his candor. But he was still staring at Roland, idly swirling the wine in his glass. I opened my mouth to pepper him with questions, like where the hell the spear was, for starters.
“Who are you guys?” he asked Roland.
Roland looked to be debating how much to say. “I work for the church. Callie is my student.”
Nate blinked. “The church?” Then he leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs as his other hand reached into his pocket. Roland tensed as if expecting a gun. Nate smiled. “Easy. Just a coin. Helps keep me focused. Grounded. Better than those lame fidget spinners.”
Claire discreetly shoved the fidget spinner she had been playing with earlier under a pillow, and I bit back a grin.
But Roland was staring at the coin with a suddenly very alarmed look on his face. Nate hesitated, a guarded mask abruptly slamming over his earlier smiles.
“I don’t mean anyone here any harm,” Nate said, slowly sliding the coin back into his pocket, a deeply considering look on his face, as if surprised and concerned at Roland’s reaction.
Roland slowly nodded, gaze burning a hole in Nate’s pocket.
Looking from one man to the other, I realized I wasn’t going to get an answer if they continued their duel of unspoken conversations. “Did you get my stick?”
Nate flinched, as if surprised to hear I was still in the room, which instantly rankled me. But then those eyes swiveled my way. I felt like I had been pinned to my chair by daggers. But I kept my body erect, hoping he didn’t realize the effect he had with that look. There was a touch of madness in those emerald eyes. Maybe not madness, but… danger. Recklessness. Finality. Something that made my hair want to stand up. I couldn’t quite pin it down, but I knew destruction fol
lowed in his footsteps. And judging by Roland’s reaction, he knew it, too, even if he thought so for different reasons. Whatever that coin had been had startled him.
“No, I didn’t get the stick. The Demon took it.” He studied me. “What is it, really?”
I deferred to Roland, waving a hand at him. “Ask him. I’m just a temp worker.”
For some reason, that made Nate burst out in laughter. “You and me both, kid.”
Roland ignored Nate’s outburst, likely disappointed in my words. I don’t know why, but Nate’s comment hadn’t offended me like it should have. Maybe it was his tone. It had sounded more like he had heard an inside joke. “Go ahead, Gandalf. Tell me what you will, and I’ll tell you if I’ll help. Either way, I am leaving with the book I paid for,” he added, smirking my way.
I thought I saw Roland mouth the word Rider as Nate took another drink of his wine, but he was too far away for me to hear, and I was crap at reading lips. Claire and I had tried doing that together when in school, and quickly seeing how terrible I was at it, she had refused to communicate with me at all until I agreed. Handwritten notes became our go to after that.
“One hears a lot about you, Temple…” Roland began in a conversational tone.
Nate waved a hand dismissively. “We’re not here about me. We’re here about your stick. The one Callie, here, made me overpay for,” he turned to me with an intense look, but I couldn’t tell if it was anger or acknowledgment of a well-delivered blow, “and that I didn’t actually take possession of. Then she stole my book.” He casually pointed at Roland’s lap.
Roland nodded, resting his hand on the book possessively. “The… stick is dangerous. I am a Shepherd for the Vatican.” No reaction from Nate. “I intended to get the stick and hand it over to them so they could lock it away where none could reach it.”
Nate blinked, and I noticed what seemed like a look of startled relief in his eyes as I studied the profile of his face. As if sensing my attention, he turned to me, frowning further. Then he glanced back at Claire, who lifted up her hands in surrender. “I’m just being a good friend. Trying to keep him alive.”
Nate turned back to Roland, then took in the items on the night stand beside his bed. “You’re dying?”
Roland grimaced. “She’s being dramatic. Just a scratch.” Claire sniffed angrily, and Roland’s eyes tightened. “Maybe more than a scratch, but all will be well in time.”
Nate tapped his lips thoughtfully, as if debating something. “I have a… friend who might be able to fix you up,” he finally offered, coming to some inner decision.
I suddenly grew very excited. “That would be great. Then you can get back to this on your own, Roland. I’m in way over my head, if you can’t tell—”
“Thank you, but no,” he told Nate, ignoring me.
I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. “What? Why the hell not?” I blurted.
“No offense,” Roland said, looking at Nate, “but I don’t know you well enough to accept that kind of a gift.”
Nate shrugged, not pressing the issue, but seeming to understand why Roland reacted the way he had. “Offer is there. No obligation, repayment, or oath. A gift. Truly.”
Roland shook his head slowly. “Again, no thank you… Master Temple.”
Nate leaned back in his chair. “Right. You have a problem with a stick. A Demon likely has it, but some kind of mutant werewolf, a vampire, and a freaking werebear tried to get it. Oh, and don’t forget the Nephilim.”
I jumped to my feet. “What?” I shouted.
Nate nodded, studying Roland with a frown. “The first one to die tonight. Offspring of an Angel and a human. I never saw his murderer, but I know a Nephilim when I see one.”
Roland sighed with regret, but I thought I heard him mouth you would know, under his breath. Nate’s attention snapped to Roland, and he nodded agreement.
“The one who called me Constance?” I asked, more to myself than anyone in the room, because I couldn’t wrap my head around any of this.
Nate nodded. “A lot of people want your stick. You’re injured. You’re a doctor. And you’re a thieving wizard in training.” He said none of this harshly, simply stating facts as he pointed to each of us. “It sure looks like you could use a hand.” He stood to leave. “Enjoy the food. Drink my wine. Discuss. If you want my help, call me.” The arrogance was so casual that I felt blood begin to pound in my ears this time, even though I could tell he wasn’t consciously trying to be rude. Confidence just oozed form his pores. “I’ll tell you a secret. I’ve heard rumors about a stick in town. I came here to see if they were true. Until Callie bumped up the price, I wasn’t going to play the game. But her clever bidding attracted my… attention,” he added, smiling lightly at her. “I was just going to lock it away where none could get at it. Seeing as how that’s your goal, too, maybe we could work together. But with you injured, and you in training, I’d like a more involved role. I don’t like taking orders, especially not from someone working for someone else.” He tossed a card on the table. “Call me if you want.” Then he chuckled to himself. “Maybe even if you don’t. Oh, and you can deliver the book to my hotel. Address is on the card.”
Then he was walking away. As he passed Claire, he winked at her. “Nice fidget spinner,” he whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, and then he was closing the door behind him, whistling softly.
Chapter 18
We spent a great deal of time talking. Who were the confirmed interested parties? Why were they interested? How did anyone, or everyone, seem to know about the spear? Why did they want it? Who was working for whom? And could we trust Nate Temple?
“I don’t like repeating myself,” Roland grumbled. “I cannot aid you yet.” He shot a scowl at Claire as if it were her fault, but she just folded her arms and let out another sniff, which was becoming common. Nate’s whirlwind arrival had done more to break her out of her troubles than anything I had done, which was frustrating. She seemed to have newfound confidence, eager for me to work with him.
Roland continued. “Temple is our best bet, for now. Even though it boils my blood to admit it. You will need help. Without the piece from the auction, at least we can get the other two. We must keep them away from each other. We can’t allow the three to reunite. For good or evil. Disaster lies in every direction, even if a squadron of Angels wanted to use it…” he added as an afterthought.
I opened my mouth to argue, especially hearing that Angels could enter the game, ready to restate that this was way more than I should be helping with, but Claire cut in. “Temple is very well known. I didn’t know he was a wizard, but learning that, it seems to connect a lot of the bizarre stories and rumors surrounding him. He must have contacts that can help. Even though this isn’t his city. And I think he’s telling the truth,” she said the last softly.
As much as it pained me to admit, I agreed, despite him likely being an asshole of the highest rank.
But a small, insistent part of me latched onto a different thought. He was a wizard, and apparently, a very powerful one. I had felt his strength, and seen him take on a werebear without breaking a sweat. Then, he had chased the Demon. It took brass balls to do something like that.
And Roland was nervous around him. Around that coin of his, especially.
Spending time around Nate could teach me a lot of things. Maybe even give me the chance to build my own confidence without all the religious rules Roland demanded. If even a fraction of his arrogance rubbed off on me, I would have enough to rival any Hollywood celebrity. The thought made me smile. This wasn’t something I was going to say out loud in front of Roland. But I was eager to see what I could learn from him — both magically, and to help me overcome my fears. The persistent nightmare that struck me whenever the consequences were real.
Generally, confidence wasn’t a problem for me, but when it came to the real world fighting I had seen lately, I knew I had held myself back because of my fear. Uncertainty gripped me, even though it wa
s irrational. Maybe Nate could help me overcome that.
“There is no hope for it but to go to the wolves.” Roland had made some phone calls, and had found nothing beneficial about the other two pieces of the spear. But we knew the wolves had snuck back to the storage unit to pick up the one we tried to get last night. I almost hoped I hadn’t killed the one from the auction, because right now, he was my only lead. “Vampires, the wolves, the bear, and Nephilim. They were all at the auction, so all are suspect, even though I have no confirmation any of them have a piece. You must check. We can’t eliminate anyone as a suspect until we know for certain.” He studied me. “Are you ready for the task?”
I hesitated. Was I terrified? Yes. Taking on the wolves was one thing, and in a direct confrontation, I thought I would be fine, but stealing from them? Pestering the other monsters? That was an act of war.
“I… would like to think on it.”
Roland watched me. As did Claire. “Don’t think too long, girl,” he said not unkindly, but with a very serious look on his face.
I nodded, and headed to my room. I needed to get some sleep. Perhaps I would have an answer when I woke.
Chapter 19
I stretched my legs in the parking lot of my apartment. I had woken earlier than I thought I would, and wanted to burn off some steam. I did a few jumping jacks to warm up, and then checked my phone. I had a missed call from an unknown number, but shrugged it off. Telemarketers had gotten my number a few weeks back, and it was almost a daily occurrence now. I slipped the phone into my armband, and began to jog. The church was only about fifteen minutes away by a light jog, and then I could say good morning to Father David, letting him know I was heading downstairs to train, and give him an update on Roland.
I worked out religiously, using it as a form of meditation, and after the past two nights, I needed some fucking tranquility, dammit.
I didn’t sprint or try to set any records, I just moved, stretching out my strides in a steady pace, appreciating the burn, and knowing that someday soon, working out would become a requirement to maintain my body. Not yet, but I didn’t want to be caught by surprise.
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