“Cool,” I said, knowing that Hermes was unable to say one word more, judging by the intense, desperate look in his eyes. “Well, I still need to file that missing package report, so how about we head back?”
He nodded, rising to his feet. I did the same. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Callie Penrose. It would be a shame if we ever stood across the field of war from each other. Friends make the strongest foes.”
I studied the severely calm look on his face. “And foes make the strongest friends.”
He dipped his chin. “Anything else before we leave?”
I thought about it for a few moments and then nodded. “I want ten percent of Asterion and King Midas’ entire Fight Club operation after you rubber-stamp my contract for the Kansas City branch partnership,” I said, thinking about the Coliseum at Castle Dracula. “As a boon for being more perceptive than my siblings,” I explained, referring to his crap story about Nate working for the Olympians and me being the wisest Horseman.
Hermes burst out laughing, slapping his knees. “Wow. Done,” he said, shaking his head and chuckling. “That is actually quite impressive. And have you already discussed these terms with Midas and the Minotaur for Kansas City?” he asked, wiping at his eyes and grinning.
I smiled back, sweetly. “Nope. But you just did when you agreed to rubber-stamp it.”
His laughter abruptly cut off and his eyes widened. He stared at me for about five seconds, not moving a muscle. Then he began to slow clap. I curtsied, dramatically. “How did you know I held sway over the Fight Club?” he asked, curiously.
“The Minotaur has mentioned it a few times, and Nate told me about your coin.”
His eyes zeroed in on me like a raptor and I could have sworn he stopped breathing for a moment. I frowned, wondering what I had said. “My coin,” he repeated flatly. “Yes. I see, now. I give coins as a token of my favor. To remember to always have hope, even when things seem most dark. I’ve given him a few over the years,” he said, carefully. Then his serious demeanor faded and he appraised me with an admiring nod. “You truly are a devil, Callie Penrose.”
“That’s what they keep saying,” I admitted. But inside, I was thinking about coins, wondering what the hell was so important about them. He’d said to always have hope, and Nate was the Horseman of Hope. Had he given Nate another magic coin without his parents knowing? “How about that ride?”
“You bet.”
And that’s when Hermes punched me in the face. “Expelliarm this!”
33
I flew backwards as my fangs burst free and I tasted blood in my mouth and nose. I flew through a hazy distortion in the air and the scene abruptly changed, casting me into a dim, gloomy interior of an old house. I landed on my ass on a hard surface, and then slid backwards until I slammed into an even harder wall, judging by the cracking sound my head made upon contact.
My vision spun wildly, and I groaned, slapping my palms down to support my weight. I blinked blearily, trying to understand where I was. I saw the same hazy distortion in the air, almost like the heat waves that rose up from broiling highway roads in the height of summer. “Had to make it look authentic, Horseman,” Hermes said, his voice drifting to me through the haze despite the fact that I couldn’t see him. “And I really wanted to do that,” he added with a dark chuckle.
I vowed to myself that I would punch Hermes in the face one day.
The haze evaporated and I took stock of my surroundings, muttering under my breath in dark curses regarding the messenger god. I faced an old glass cabinet full of antique figurines and dusty books. I was in a wide hallway with marble pillars and a polished marble floor. Extravagant paintings hung from the walls, about a few hundred years out of date. Family portraits and landscapes and battles. Each painting was illuminated by a dim yellow light hanging above the frame. Was I in a museum?
The wall vibrated behind me strongly enough to make my teeth rattle. “Not a museum!” I squeaked, lurching to my feet and instinctively grabbing my ass. I almost fumbled Ryuu’s katana to the ground in my attempt to draw it. I held it out before me, jerking from left to right, fearing Hermes had suckered me into a one-way ticket to Mount Olympus or something. I was all alone. I used my free hand to wipe the blood from my nose and lip before spitting a bloody glob onto the rich wooden floor. As hard as Hermes had hit me, there was very little blood to be found and it didn’t hurt as bad as it should have. Horseman or vampire perk? I shook off the thought, not particularly caring. I froze as my eyes settled on a particular painting of a handsome man in a suit. His tie was undone, his blondish brown hair was unruly, and he had a mischievous smirk that promised trouble and dared a challenge.
It was Nate. “You really did have dirty blonde hair,” I mused out loud, smiling to myself. He’d always claimed it as his hair color, but I’d never seen proof. He stood in front of Plato’s Cave—Nate’s arcane bookstore—but it looked different and more run down. Since Nate was dangling a pair of keys from a finger, I assumed it was the day he’d purchased the place before he’d made any renovations.
A tall, muscular, bearded man stood at his side, draping a massive arm around Nate’s shoulder in a way that screamed, I’m an alibi. I grinned, lowering my sword. “Gunnar,” I whispered. “You both look so damned young.”
I sheathed Ryuu’s katana on Aphrodite’s magnetic-like suit and sighed, realizing where I was. Chateau Falco. Hermes had sent me inside but with a security guard reprimand of a busted lip so that his own watchers wouldn’t think anything particularly suspicious about it. I wondered how long our truce would last and what his cryptic comments had actually meant.
Because every single thing he’d said could mean two completely different things. The fact that he’d focused so hard to say anything at all to me, while making sure he didn’t incriminate himself, was actually proof, in my eyes, that he was trying to encourage me. Which meant he was actually trying to help me. If he were against Nate and me, he wouldn’t have bothered saying anything. He had used entirely too many significant words that echoed Aphrodite’s concern for it to be anything but a warning.
Yet despite my concern for Nate, I knew I couldn’t act on it. Olympians of some flavor were watching Chateau Falco, Hermes, and likely everyone here—primarily Gunnar and Alucard. I couldn’t do or say anything to disrupt that facade or I would attract the wrong kind of attention and possibly endanger Nate. I needed to act like my encounter with Hermes was nothing more than him threatening me to stay in my lane.
But my mind was my own, and it continued to theorize and analyze the spider’s web of possibilities triggered by Aphrodite and Hermes’ frantic interferences.
Even though I didn’t know what quest Nate was on, I knew the man himself. In any given situation, he was always angling for a Plan B because he had more trust issues than anyone I had ever met—deservedly so. I couldn’t judge him. His parents had even managed to manipulate my parents and my life, so Nate had every justification for his territorial orphan attitude. Whatever Nate was really up to, I could guarantee that he was only following the letter of the orders Mount Olympus had given him, not the spirit of the order. And he had specifically chosen not to reach out to his Horsemen for assistance.
That either meant he thought contacting us would pull us into danger—because he was an overprotective, hypocritical idiot like that—or he knew he was being watched. Aphrodite cared for Nate, and she also cared for me, encouraging the both of us not to trust any Olympians. I knew, deep in my heart, that Aphrodite was trustworthy. She wouldn’t have bothered helping me understand my own complicated feelings for Nate Temple—pushing me to confront him and end our supposed relationship—if she were certain his fate was sealed. She would have just told me to be patient, wait a little while, and then I would be free to begin a relationship with Ryuu.
I couldn’t do anything about Nate’s self-sacrificing hubris, but if Nate knew he was being watched, he would try to catch our attention indirectly, knowing he couldn’t trust his handl
ers or do anything drastic. Nate’s middle name was drastic, or possibly catastrophic.
So, Nate would be scheming.
He would be doing something to catch my attention if he found a sneaky path that would allow him to get away with it. How could he catch my attention while making it look like something entirely unrelated—
My breath caught and my eyes widened.
Ryuu…
Had…Nate actually been the one to kidnap Ryuu? Aphrodite had said he was on the same page as me, and that his heart had found—or was in the process of finding—someone else. Did that mean he knew how I felt about Ryuu? Because there was no way this Peter assclown could have known about Ryuu’s significance. And this mystery Peter told me to meet him here at Chateau Falco, which was Nate’s home—yet it was under surveillance, so why meet here?
Questions were often as good as answers. They served to get rid of distractions, narrowing the field of possible answers. One thing I knew for certain was that if Nate really was behind abducting Ryuu, I was going to kick him in the balls. Even if his intentions had been pure.
“As long as it’s before tonight,” I murmured aloud, rolling my shoulders, nervously. The walls of Chateau Falco rumbled ominously, fretfully, protectively at the idea of her Master in danger. I place my hand on the wall with a sad smile. “I’ll be there for him, Falco. Always.” The wall grew warm beneath my fingers. “But I’m still kicking him in the balls if he had anything to do with Ryuu,” I promised.
If a sentient mansion could laugh, it probably would have felt like a mild earthquake—like the one that suddenly shook the floor beneath my boots.
I thought about Hermes’ other comments and my smile faded. Whatever Nate was going through, he was all alone…
And that was one of the most terrifying things imaginable.
“Nate can never feel like he is all alone,” I whispered. “I don’t think they truly considered what they’ve done by ostracizing him and putting him in a corner. If Nate feels alone and abandoned, the entire Olympian Pantheon couldn’t quell his wrathful storm,” I whispered, feeling strangely excited and horrified at the prospect. There was a reason he was called the Catalyst.
Falco actually growled, sending a grating, unearthly sound through the halls of this distant, forgotten wing.
“I will figure it out, Falco,” I promised, “before tonight.” Because Aphrodite and Hermes had made it abundantly clear that his execution was going down and that he needed his colleagues—his Horsemen—to remain true to Nate’s creed.
Fucking shit up for everyone not wearing a Team Temple jersey.
And I had to do that—and inform Horseman Tweedledum and Tweedledee that they were gullible fools to buy Hermes’ lie—without alerting the Olympian watchers at Chateau Falco. I had to feign ignorance while rallying the troops to go to war the moment Nate threw up the Horsemen signal.
At least Kansas City was peaceful and calm right now, not on the precipice of war or anything terrible, I thought to myself, dryly.
To figure out Nate’s issue, I needed clear answers about the Ryuu situation. This Peter guy had jumped Xylo and taken Ryuu with the aid of some enchanted stuffed animal, and he had demanded I meet him here at Chateau Falco in less than two hours. I would check in with Gunnar and Alucard to see what they knew about Nate’s made-up Olympian initiative, either kill Peter to save Ryuu or find out what game he was playing, and then hop back to Kansas City to take care of my own business. Then I needed to hop back to St. Louis tonight to prevent Nate’s execution, even though I currently had no idea when or where or how that would go down.
I wasn’t sure which of us was winning in the who can start a bigger shit show contest, but it had to be close.
It was probably safer to say we were both losing.
I patted the wall comfortingly and then assessed my surroundings, trying to get a bead on which direction to walk towards to find the main area of the mansion. I sighed, chose the hall closest to the painting of Gunnar and Nate, and then started walking, wondering how long it would take me to find someone helpful since the place was so big and I hadn’t ever been in this part of the mansion. In fact, everything seemed dusty and forgotten, as if not even Nate had ever visited this area.
Curious.
If we all survived, I’d have to ask him about it.
34
After about ten minutes, I entered a wide, expansive foyer with a grand staircase leading up to a higher level. A crystal chandelier the size of a car hung suspended over the base of the steps, and more artwork and paintings hung from the walls. There were two seating areas and separate fireplaces on either side of the sweeping steps, but everything here was covered in dust as well. The floor was a rich, dark cherry wood rather than the marble from the hallways. Strangely, I didn’t see a large set of front doors opposite the stairs. It looked like an entryway to the mansion, but it obviously wasn’t. And it was definitely unused. I knew for a fact that no one had been here in decades, at least. Not even cleaners or nosy explorers.
I could still feel Falco’s gentle purr beneath my feet, but I saw absolutely no signs of human life, and no doors or windows to look through and figure out where the hell I was in relation to the rest of the mansion. I frowned at another thought.
The lights were on. Dim Tiffany lamps and Edison light bulbs hung from dated sconces and other tasseled stand lamps. But…there were no footprints in the dust.
“Falco? Did you turn these lights on for me?” Her purring grew louder, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Good. For a second, I thought there might be someone creeping around—” I felt a dark presence roll into the room like a thick fog, and Falco’s purring abruptly ceased like a pricked bubble, making me feel like my ears had popped.
A dark blur in my peripheral vision made me flinch and spin, lifting a hand to my katana over my shoulder. In the distant shadows, I sensed eyes watching me, although I couldn’t discern anything specific. Then I saw another blur zip past the top of the grand staircase, too fast for me to make out. I slowly began backing up, drawing my katana and keeping my eyes peeled.
“Falco?” I asked, nervously. “Mind introducing me to your friends? I’d hate for there to be a…misunderstanding.”
Falco remained utterly silent as if she’d been placed on mute.
I muttered under my breath. “Goddamned ancient mansions,” I growled. Another distant lamp winked out and I heard the tinkling sound of shattered glass, followed by a dry, raspy cackle, reminding me of a zombie hyena. The hair on the back of my neck rose and I narrowed my eyes. “Fuck off, whoever you are. I’m not an enemy.”
“Nephilim…” a strange voice croaked from the top of the staircase. I glanced up, noticed a black, humanoid silhouette that was decidedly too tall and eerily animalistic, and then the creature swatted away the lamp on the table beside him, casting the landing into darkness.
“Dark witch,” another voice hissed from a hallway behind me, punctuated by another breaking lamp.
“Fuck this place,” I growled, jogging backwards, and swiveling my head back and forth for more of these…whateverthefucks. They obviously sensed my bloodline, having called out both my father and mother, but why was Falco silent? Were these invaders? “And goddamned the Roaring Twenties,” I added, scowling at one of the broken lamps.
As if they took offense of my opinion, more lamps began smashing and breaking in a rapid succession and that menacing cackle turned into a sadistic chorus as darkness swamped the forgotten, dusty wing of Chateau Falco. I was beginning to see why this section had been forgotten and abandoned. It was haunted by a gang of elitist Templegeists. I turned and ran, realizing I couldn’t fight what I couldn’t see, especially not when I was outnumbered.
I didn’t have time for this shit.
I ran down the hall as fast as possible, thankful for the lamps every ten feet or so that cast the way ahead in a dim glow. I imagined they were lighthouses, chasing after them even as I heard them exploding and breaking in my wake as the
cackling pursuers tore after me.
I skidded to a halt in front of a set of wooden, twenty-foot-tall, double doors that were gouged and scarred; I guessed from the claws of the creatures trying to break free. I was locked in here with them? I tried to call up my magic to open a Gateway or Shadow Walk, but my magic failed me, blocked just the same as my connection with Falco had been cut off.
I hit one of the doors with my shoulder, grabbing at the doorknob. I let out a gasp of disbelief as it flashed with purple light and then turned with a rusty squealing sound. I shoulder-charged the door again—once, twice, three times—as the shrieking beasts closed in on me. The door finally let out a shockingly loud crack, raining dust down over me and then creaked open enough for me to slip through to the other side. I shoved the door closed behind me even as I heard my pursuers slam into it, rattling more dust free from overhead. I heard them scratching and screaming and laughing as they struggled to open the door, but none of them tried to use the doorknob.
I backed away, staring at the door with my sword held steady, ready for them to break it down. A minute went by while they continued to rail and screech, scraping at the wood with frustrated snarls and maddening laughter.
“What the fuck?” I whispered, shaking my head and staring at the apparently magical doorknob. What had that purple light been? How was it preventing them from using it and why had it worked for me?
I lowered my sword as I heard them growing quieter, slowly giving up on scratching through the door. Minutes later, it was entirely quiet. I let out a sigh of relief, shaking my head. I took two more steps backwards just in case they were trying to lull me into a sense of false confidence. On the third step, I felt Falco’s presence return as the floor beneath me hummed soothingly. I placed my hands on my knees and bent over, breathing deeply and shaking my head.
Trinity: Feathers and Fire Book 9 Page 19
