Blood Debts (The Temple Chronicles Book 2) (11 page)

“Thank you, that will be all.” Dean said into the phone before hanging up.

My ears were ringing and my face throbbed. Indie was halfway down the stairs, crying hard. Here was my sympathy parade. Soft words, a soothing icepack, and a smoking hot Indie to tuck Nate into bed after a long day, but not before a full minute of apologies for injuring her boyfriend. “Nate! Are you okay? What happened?”

I braced for the attack. Her hug hit me like a train. I, being all that is man, survived it. But only just. “Shh… It’s okay, Indie. It’s just a window. No big deal. Don’t cry.” I said with an amused smile that she luckily couldn’t see as she sobbed into my shoulder.

“It’s not the window, Nate. It’s… Wait, you’re face is covered in blood! From the bag?” I decided to let her think that she had caused it. Easier than explaining my kidnapping. “And why do you smell like a farm?” she asked. My hopes for sympathy began to flicker and die. Surely any minute now…

“Is the horse comfortable? Did he appreciate his supper?” Dean asked wryly.

I nodded, impatient for the world to bow down to my desires for a nice bed with my feet propped up. “Horse?” Indie asked. “What is he talking about? You bought me a horse? What in the world would I do with a horse? I mean, the gesture is very sweet, and I appreciate it, but I don’t know a thing about horses. And isn’t it a bit late to buy a horse? I thought you were meeting up with a lead at the bar? I’m confused.” She looked horrible. Don’t get me wrong. Indie was a goddess. Beautiful on a level that was astounding, but she didn’t cry well. The pretty ones never do.

“I had to borrow the horse to get home. Gunnar and Tory rabbited.”

“Borrowed from the St. Louis Mounted Patrol Unit.” Dean offered helpfully.

“The
police
?” Indie burst out. I glared at Dean. He was ruining my vibe.

“I can explain. And I’m fine. The bag just caught me off guard.” They stared at me blankly. I cleared my throat. “But first, please don’t worry about the window. It’s really not a big deal.” Dean harrumphed, implying that to him it
was
a big deal, as he would be the one to arrange for it to be fixed.

Indie finally stepped back, mascara pouring down her face. “It’s not the window-”

“I’m fine. I already told you.” She shook her head. My hopes for sympathy began to die by crucifixion. I sighed. This just wasn’t my night. “The vase then. We can always find another vase.”

“
Ahem
. We most certainly can’t. That was one of a kind. As are most of the furnishings of the home. Macedonian, if I recall correctly.” He added.

“Nate, it’s not the vase either. It’s-”

“Jesus. I’m an idiot. I didn’t even think about it. Tory and Gunnar probably scared you half to death with their phone call. It’s fine. It was just a bar fight. Then someone…” I decided to play it safe, “wanted to talk to me about something. They were pretty mysterious and kidnapped me right from under Gunnar’s nose, which is saying something. But I got it all square. I-” Indie placed a finger on my lips.

“
Bar fight?
” she asked with a frown. I began to backpedal furiously, knowing I might need to resort to my beach vacation idea in order to escape unscathed.

“Well, yeah. Kind of. But Tory broke it up. Or broke
him
up. You should have seen it. She laid him out flat. No problem
Wham
,
bam
, no more werewolf.” I chuckled. “But really, it’s nothing to be concerned about. My phone died so I couldn’t call you. I’m sorry I caused you to worry. I have an idea though. I-”

“Nate. Shut up for a second. Gunnar never called. Neither did Tory.” She didn’t sound pleased about that little detail. “It’s… my mother. She fell and hit her head. She’s in the hospital. I need to go see her. “

“Oh. Is she okay? We can leave right now. I’ll pack a bag. I… crap. Can I erase the last few minutes from your memory and go back to before I mentioned my night?”

“No.” She was tapping her foot angrily. If she had been a cat, her tail would have been twitching like mad.

“Right.” I muttered. So, no sympathy and no vacation.

“So. Bar fight. Kidnapped. Stole a mounted patrol horse. Why don’t you flesh that out a bit while I finish packing?” I sighed as she turned on a heel and headed back upstairs. Dean coughed into a polite fist as he sauntered off into the house, leaving me to my fate. My life.

It took us a few minutes to get to our room where Indie had been packing. I threw myself onto the bed, careful of jarring my face too much. I fidgeted for a few moments, trying to get comfortable as Indie bent over one of the suitcases. I finally gave up on comfort.

“What is the point of this?” I fumed angrily, holding up a torturous sparkly throw pillow. I was lying on the bed, my head propped up against another of the expensive decorative pillows that sported even more tassels and sequins. No matter how I shifted, they bore into my neck like needles.

“They look nice.”

“Pillows are supposed to
feel
nice. These feel like torture devices. Do you think Martha Stewart designed them while in jail? Out of spite?”

She shook her head idly as she continued packing. “They aren’t supposed to be used. Just to look nice.”

I grunted, rearranging the death-shard. “So, your mom… What happened?”

Indie shivered a bit. “I’m not sure. She doesn’t remember, but it looks like she fell and couldn’t get back up. Luckily, a friend came over when she didn’t appear for their weekly book reading club. They took her to the hospital where she’s undergoing tests to make sure she didn’t injure her brain. She broke her hip after banging her head on the kitchen counter.” The Life Alert commercial that many found humorous on a dark sadistic level very briefly replayed in my mind, but I wisely kept it to myself, even though I thought that it might have actually been helpful. This comment, I was sure, wouldn’t help me. “I need to go to her. She’s confused, not remembering exactly what happened.” Indie’s eyes were far away, as if recalling the event clearly in her mind. I wondered if she was telling me the full story or not. But I wasn’t about to press her on the details. Do I look like an idiot to you?

“I understand. Do you need any money? Need me to arrange the jet to take you there?” I asked, feeling helpless to make her feel better.

“No. Dean already booked me a commercial flight. It leaves in a few hours. He’s driving me to the airport.” She was not looking at me, and began stuffing a few more shirts into her suitcase distractedly. I knew how she felt, having recently lost my own parents. It was numbing to realize that the ones who raised you were, in fact, mortal

“He didn’t book two tickets?” I asked softly. She hesitated, still not turning to face me. I propped myself to see her better, suddenly understanding. “You… don’t want me to go with you.”

She threw up her hands with frustration. “It’s not that I don’t
want
you to. It’s… complicated. You have enough on your plate right now. You haven’t slept in how many days now? You look like death, and I don’t think I want death looking over my mom in the hospital.” Well, that was harsh. “Plus, I saw the news today…” Her tone was suddenly icy, shifting as adroitly as a figure skater performing a… well, whatever type of move figure skaters performed. All that mattered was that anger replaced her concern in the blink of an eye.

“Oh?” I answered dumbly, hoping she was not referring to the blurb I had seen at the bar about my involvement with the dragon attack on the Eads Bridge a few months ago.

Yeah, right.

She stood, leaning against the closet door as she began to tap her foot. This wasn’t good. “I distinctly remember
bathing
your injuries around the time of that attack. You never mentioned it.”

“Oh, you know how the news is. Always jiving for a story…” I answered lamely.

“No, I don’t. You apparently didn’t trust me. You didn’t tell me you fought that dragon on the bridge.”

I shrugged. “Allegedly. They never found the body, and the city thinks it was a hoax. They also think I killed a cop at Artemis’ Garter. Or that Gunnar did. Everyone is fighting for their 30 seconds of fame.”

Her eyes weighed my soul. “Did. You. Fight. A. Dragon?”

I shifted uneasily, finally giving in. “Yes.” I admitted.

She looked hurt, and I felt like crap all over again. But her next response surprised me.

“Thank you, Nate.” I tensed, waiting for the trap to close. But nothing happened. I finally looked up at her. She looked pleased. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” She said softly. I felt my shoulders loosening. She was right. It felt
good
. Almost as if I was the one who had placed so much pressure on the topic in the first place. Which was true. I had wanted to keep her safe, away from the truth so that she couldn’t turn into collateral damage later, but my answer hadn’t scared her at all. She was happy, relieved even. I let out a deep breath.

“It’s dangerous to tell you these things-” I began.

“You could tell the truth, you know, to the media. Prove yourself.” She answered, interrupting me.

“Yeah. I could,” Her smile stretched a bit, slowly, surprised that she had gotten through to me so quickly. Before she could speak, I continued. “And confirm Alaric’s very public speech about me being a wizard and starting a coalition of freaks? No thanks. That would bring back another, more violent, remake of the Salem Witch Trials. Not even considering what the Academy would have done tonight if they had believed that the coalition talk was legitimate.”

Indie watched me intently, no longer tapping her foot. “Tell me about this Academy.”

I hesitated. “I really shouldn’t.” Her foot began tapping all over again, making up for lost time. “Indie, they’re dangerous. There were a lot of them tonight. They’re like the Russian secret police from back before the Iron Curtain fell. Immunity from almost anything they feel justified about. It was only quick thinking that got me out of their version of jail tonight.” I didn’t need to tell her about the curse they had put on me. Indie had enough to worry about. Then again, perhaps their curse would drain me of magic. I would become a Regular and none of this would matter anymore. No more secrets from Indie. I shivered at that. But what was I if not a wizard? Then I shook my head. Who was I kidding? The Academy would never let me walk free with everything I knew. Even if I was a Regular.

“Fine. If you’re not going to tell me, I need to leave.”

“Indie…” I began, holding up an imploring hand. “These guys are heavy hitters. You don’t understand. They have all the sympathy the Nazi’s showed the Jews.” She began to shove things into her bag with more force than was necessary. “I just can’t, indie. Not right now. It’s too dangerous. You don’t know what you are asking me. It’s an unnecessary danger.”

“So you don’t think I can take care of myself? Is this how it’s going to be? You keeping secrets from me? That’s a great foundation for a relationship, Nate.” She snapped.

I frowned, growing angry. How did she not understand that I was only trying to keep her safe? “There are things that I cannot talk about, Indie. It’s nothing to do with me wanting to tell you or not. I just can’t.”
Without putting you in grave danger
, I didn’t add.

She was silent for a few seconds, shoving and rearranging items into her luggage. She finally spoke, and I wished she hadn’t. “I think you need a bit of time to yourself. To clear your head.” She turned to look at me, mascara still running down her cheeks. I wanted to hold her, comfort her, but I knew that was the last thing she wanted. We were going to be in for a long debate tonight. She never dropped things. Especially this topic.

Which was why I was surprised when she spoke. “You need to get some sleep. I’m worried about you. All you do is hit up the bars or tinker at your company, when you really need sleep. Uninterrupted peace. By the way, any news from the bar about what your parents were hiding? Or who killed them?” She asked, somehow able to bury the topic from a few seconds ago. I shook my head in answer to her question about my parents.

She sighed sadly, as if having hoped I had finally found something to help soothe my grief. “Nate. I’m beyond pissed at you. But I know you have a lot on your plate, and it’s not your choice to be in the situation you’re in. I know you would drop everything to come with me, but it’s not what
you
need. Despite you’re brave look, I can see that you are close to a meltdown. You’re always working at the office, picking fights at shady bars, and you never sleep…” I sighed. She was too good for me. The night terrors had forced me to dive headfirst into work, digging for information on my parents’ murder, the Armory, and my growing magical boundaries. Well, growing up until tonight. Now I was on the opposite end of the spectrum. I was on borrowed power. How long would it last? What were the long-term effects of the curse? I shivered, not wanting to consider it. But I knew I would find myself back in the lab in the small hours of the morning, tinkering, building, making things… anything to keep my mind away from the night terrors. I would deal with it then.

All I had wanted to do was to take Indie on a vacation, to get away from everything for a while. To smell the roses, so to speak. Indie was watching me sadly. “Nate… Maybe if you got some sleep you could look at it from a fresher perspective.”

I sighed. “I’ll try.”

She smiled sadly. “We started dating during one of the most stressful times of your life, and that stress hasn’t left. In fact, I think it’s only grown more intense. Not that I blame you, but I don’t think you gave yourself the time you needed to clear your head. I don’t want our relationship to suffer because you were repressing what happened with your parents. Despite Raego trying to help by keeping the dragons in line after the murders, you are still far from the answers you thought you would have. It’s eating you alive. We barely talk. You wake in cold sweats, murmuring, fidgeting, and even shouting in the little sleep you do get.” That was news to me. “Perhaps you need to talk about it with someone. Maybe you’re experiencing a wizard’s version of post-traumatic stress disorder.” Which was exactly what I had been wondering earlier. It wasn’t every day you went up against a harem of weredragons and survived. “You keep me sheltered, and that’s not okay. I hate to say it, but maybe this break is just what we need. I’ll go take care of my mom for a few days, and you can focus on yourself for a bit.”