Crap. “Looks like we’re heading to church,” I sighed, feeling nervous. “This isn’t something I should do over the phone.”
“I’ll call an Uber,” Cain suggested, pulling out his phone.
I placed a hand on his wrist, halting him. “Let’s walk. It’s not far, and I could use the fresh air to collect my thoughts before talking with Roland.”
He looked uncertain about my decision, but finally shrugged. “Your call. But we should get going. We only have about two hours before sunrise, give or take.”
I climbed to my feet and began walking towards the door, wondering what the hell I was going to tell Roland.
And what the look Cain had seen on his face had prefaced.
Chapter 15
We exited the coffee shop and I pulled a scarf from my jacket pocket, wrapping it around my neck. I straightened it, careful to keep the emblem concealed from casual view. Cain noticed, and his lips thinned. “Are you sure it’s smart to wear that out in public? Pretty sure the Templars are still hunting you.”
I thought for a moment before turning left to walk down the street. “That’s exactly why I’m wearing it. In case they hired a wizard hitman. But I’m pretty sure they left town with their tails tucked between their legs.” Cain grunted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing as he walked beside me. But he was paranoid—a good trait to hold close these days.
A Cross Pattée was emblazoned across the center of my black scarf, and it nullified magical attacks—part of the uniform for Knights Templar, keeping them safe as they hunted down the big bad supernatural folk of the world in the name of God. All Freaks were evil in their eyes.
“Beckett’s been searching all over town for Olin and his renegade Templars,” I told Cain. “Every single one of their old hideouts has been found abandoned, showing no signs of recent activity. I’m pretty sure Olin and his ilk fled Kansas City to regroup elsewhere. But they will be back someday. That’s for sure.”
We continued walking in silence for a few moments before Cain spoke again. “Outside of business, have you talked with Beckett?”
I sighed. “You know I haven’t.”
“You used to be friends, once. Kind of kicked some serious ass together a few times,” he reminded me. I didn’t say anything. “It’s a shame that he fell for Olin’s lies. But Olin tricked a lot of people, didn’t he? Not telling his own Templars he was a werewolf—”
“Do you have a point?” I growled.
“Just a shitty way for a friendship to die.”
I grunted, kicking at a chunk of gravel on the sidewalk. It hit a trashcan, pinning a flyer announcing a music festival in Penn Valley Park a few weeks from now. Someone had put some serious money into the park to advertise it so widely.
“Is it working?” Cain asked, sipping his coffee loudly.
“What?” I asked, tearing my eyes from the flyer.
“My subtle hints. Are they working?”
I was silent for a time, biting my tongue. “Have I told you I’m trying to become a better person? Calm. Serene. Less violent—”
“So, it’s not working,” he interrupted, chuckling. “But the fact that Beckett is now a tiny teddy bear must be a nice karmic kiss.”
I finally laughed, shaking my head. “A sun bear! It helps more than you know.” My smile withered after a few moments. “What he did…it cut deep, Cain. I know he was deceived by Olin, but he made some personal choices that put people directly in danger. My people. And he did it knowingly, not accidentally. That’s not something I can easily forgive.” I let out an angry sigh. “A lot of bad stuff happened that night, and some of it was a direct result of Beckett’s actions.”
Cain chose not to comment further.
My thumb cooled noticeably as Nameless overheard me mention the night I had caught him and trapped him. Michael had said he’d quieted Nameless somewhat, but I wasn’t sure what that actually meant. Michael was adamant that I needed to get the Fallen Angel off my finger and into the Seal of Solomon, pronto. I sighed, shaking my head.
Release me… Nameless pleaded from somewhere deep within me, like an echo of a whisper. I shuddered. His voice was fainter than usual, but still too loud for my liking.
The random commentary was one reason I wasn’t entirely fond of my new buddy, even though he was sometimes helpful—like when he’d tried to warn me about Michael abducting me. Another reason was the constant chill. I’d been forced to keep my thumb in my pocket a lot more often to keep it warm, but also so no one saw the moving shadow circling my finger like smoke. So far, I hadn’t noticed any boost in power or anything, just a whole lot of angst, suffering, and begging.
I had never learned Nameless’ real name and hadn’t thought to ask Michael about it. I found myself idly wondering if changing his name had been the first step towards his Fall from Grace.
I shook my head and clamped down on the voice. “You hear about the manhunt at Penn Valley Park?” I asked, looking both ways before I crossed the street. The park in question was just ahead of us.
Cain frowned. “Manhunt?” he asked. “No. Where did you hear about that?” he asked, just now spotting a sign with the park’s name stamped into it just ahead of us.
I glanced over at him. “How have you not heard about the manhunt? The car that stopped next to us on our way to the coffee shop was blaring the news from his radio. And those suits at the coffee shop were even talking about it.” I gave him a look of disappointment. “Not very perceptive.”
He blinked a few times, as if trying to recall our walk. “The guys behind us were talking about investments. I remember because one of them mentioned Grimm Tech. They didn’t talk about anything local.”
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 to 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 a 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.
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 its 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, huffing 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, disappointe
d 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.
Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 2 Page 37
