Blood Debts (The Temple Chronicles Book 2) (31 page)

“Hopefully it means you are intelligent enough to realize that you are on the
wrong
side. Even if it’s not my side, I hope you see that your current side is following the opinion of a bunch of fucking imbeciles.”

Gavin chuckled lightly before realizing it, and then abruptly cut off the sound as he followed Othello through the darkening streets. His eyes were lost in thought. “Maybe.” He answered.

“The Demons are going to kill a vampire. In a place that directly relates to me.” I spoke clearly, hoping it wouldn’t end our alliance.

He nodded, not exactly with any interest, but accepting of the fact.

I decided to play my card.

“What do you really know about my parents’ project? This Armory?”

“Just that it was a cache of objects they deemed too dangerous to fall into the hands of the
all-powerful Academy
. The same Academy that provided them with safety for so many years. I find it hard to agree with your perception of them. I know they have room for improvement, but I do not believe the Academy to be evil.”

I nodded. “I can understand that. I have to be honest though. This Armory, as you call it, is news to me. I only recently discovered it. It seems to be the reason my parents were murdered. Coincidentally, the Academy showed up almost immediately, demanding access. You can see my cause for concern. I hope.”

Gavin nodded in resignation. “Timing. If they could show up when they did, why not sooner?”

I nodded. “Exactly my point. But it does make me wonder what, exactly, my parents were hiding. I understand the draw to power, but what does the Academy expect to find? Something specific? Or just power in general?”

Gavin shrugged. “Mayhap the Academy lost something once, and hope your parents managed to…
acquire
it?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it. My parents were no thieves.”

Gavin looked uncomfortable. “May I speak… freely, Master Temple?” I could tell that it pained him to address me by my title. I nodded. “The brief time I met your parents, they seemed to imply that they did…
acquire
some of their objects questionably. I make no accusation. Just speak the truth. I know that they did purchase quite a few objects as well, but when they felt necessary, they did resort to more nefarious methods in order to… protect the masses.” I shivered, remembering my father’s conversation on my 21st birthday, the only time the Pandora Protocol had been mentioned. I sighed. Perhaps Gavin had a point.

“Maybe. But I’m grateful you offered to help with this small Demonic inconvenience.”

“Will it be dangerous?” He asked, glancing at me curiously.

“Consider it your second interview…”

Gavin looked nervous but determined. “Okay.”

I needed his help. My power was fading faster than I had thought. I was also a target to the mysterious Nephilim that Hemingway and the Demon had mentioned, of which I luckily hadn’t directly tussled with yet. Even if they had tried to throw me to the wolves. I also didn’t want to risk Othello. Screw it. Gavin seemed torn on his allegiances. Trial by fire then. I needed to test his mettle. If he wanted to find the good side and ease his conscience, then he needed to earn that trust.

“Do you have a safe word?” I asked him as we continued following Othello. Gavin looked really uncomfortable for a few moments.

“Um, what kind of second interview did you have in mind? Because I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. I’m not into-”

I chuckled darkly. “Not that kind of safe word. Things might get, not to keep the pun going,” I winked, “but… hairy. I was just curious on what kind of tolerance you have for fear.” Gavin relaxed instantly.

“Ah. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve sought out plenty of danger in my days. Even met a werewolf once. Filthy beast tried to kill me. Showed him.” He said proudly. I smiled guardedly.

“Well, my best friend is a werewolf, so be careful about your prejudices. But that’s good to hear. Wouldn’t want you freaking out in the middle of a… difficult situation.”

“I’ll be fine. I know how to subdue any who would do me harm.”

“Not sure subduing is an option, but you’re more than welcome to try. I’ll just say this. With Demons, the rule book goes out the window.” Gavin’s face tightened, but he nodded.

We pulled up to the front of Plato’s Cave slowly, and then drove on by, cruising casually. I noticed a blacked-out Ford Explorer parked near the entrance, two neatly groomed men inside — wide-awake — watching the streets. My place was being observed. Gavin grunted, noticing the same thing I had. Othello continued on ahead of us, obviously noticing the stakeout. We pulled around the block, made a lap to be sure that there were no other spotters, and then parked. My disguise was entirely complete with the fake horn-rim glasses, so I had no doubt that they wouldn’t recognize me. Unless I walked through the front door after regular business hours…

Othello casually exited the car, as if having no relation to Gavin and I, pretending to talk loudly into her phone to a girlfriend. They followed me as I entered through a side door that only the employees knew about, safe from prying eyes. I was ready for anything, not knowing if it would be like the werewolf community, that somehow an entire coven of vampires would be here ready to take me out. But nothing happened. We entered the darkened building…
my
darkened building. Any employee was long gone, having served the last customers, cleaned up, and left.

“It seems clean. No murder.” I stated flatly. Gavin agreed with a grunt.

“Perhaps this is also a false lead.”

I looked at him, unable to contain my anger. “There are 1,013,900 words in the English language, and none of them accurately portray how badly I want to hit you over the head with a chair. A heavy Amish chair.”

Gavin… blinked. “With all your power, you wish to hit me over the head with a chair? For stating a fact?”

“Remember. You took away
all my power
. So, yes. A chair will suffice.”

Othello chuckled quietly. “Boys…”

Gavin shook his head in disbelief, and chagrin. “A chair…” He murmured.

“This doesn’t make sense.” I said flatly, turning for the stairs that led up to my old apartment. Now it was merely unused living quarters above the shop. An old projector room for the theater that had once occupied this building. A very classy projector room, now. “Light, please.” I said to Gavin. He cast his power out into a bluish dim glow so we could see without turning on the lights and alerting the FBI. They followed me, watching in silence as I gathered a few things and a change of clothes. I was done hiding and using disguises. I snatched up a unique feather stuffed into a jar of pens on my desk — a feather that looked like it had been torn from a Demonic peacock — with a smile on my face.
Grimm
. Might come in handy.

Othello fingered the panties hanging on the office lamp, the pair of Indie’s panties I had left there after the dragon attacks a few months ago. It had seemed right, seeing as how this had been the place I had discovered them. It was… motivation of sorts. I would look up from working on the company books, and see those damning panties and stop dawdling. I was easily motivated.

“And what is the escapade behind this?” Othello asked with a leer.

“Indie.”

Othello released the fabric as if burned. She sniffed haughtily. “Not very unique.”

“Oh, they were plenty unique.” I mumbled under my breath. Gavin watched with curiosity.

“Alright, I don’t see any other reason to stick around,” I stated, lugging the overnight bag over my shoulder. I quickly emptied my pockets to transfer my stuff to my new pants. When I pulled out my wallet, a card dropped to the floor and I truly saw it for the first time since Hemmingway had given it to me. “Well I’ll be god damned…”

A large boom at the front door of Plato’s Cave shook the building as the door burst into splinters. “I mean…
gosh darned
,” I corrected. Heavy boots stomped into the entrance below us. “Oh, come on! It was a slip of the tongue!” I bellowed, shoving the card into my pocket.

“Meet your demise, wizard.” A cool voice commanded from below.

Gavin merely leaned towards a window to look down at the threat, not actively doing anything to help me. Othello cocked her pistol hungrily.

I quickly darted to the window to see what the hell was going on, hoping my accomplices wouldn’t shoot first and ask questions later. I couldn’t make out the details, but he looked human.

“Who goes there?” I called.

“The might of Heaven, mortal. Bow down.”

“Ice Cube? Really?” I asked. He didn’t respond. I held up a hand for my accomplices to hold off, but it seemed Gavin had no intention of assisting.

“I’m not fucking with Heaven.” He answered, and then Shadow Walked his happy ass out of my shop with a resounding
crack
.

I sighed. Apparently I had managed to piss off God.

Chapter 24

H
old off on the smiting. I’ll be down in just a second!” I snarled.

Othello followed me closely as I descended the stairs. I really didn’t have time for this. I had done nothing wrong. In fact, I believed I was the only one doing anything
right
.

The man hadn’t moved from the entrance, but what remained of the door had been propped back in place. He was much younger than I had thought. The youth held a hand on the hilt of his righteous sword, and he looked like he had been plucked straight from the Crusades, decked out in genuine leather armor that was engraved in platinum curlicues and exquisite geometric shapes that made my skin crawl. They were functional, not just for decoration. Spells. And they were so ancient I could only recognize that they
were
spells, but not their purpose.

He was young, appearing twenty-something, but the hard gleam in his eyes let me know he was formidable with wisdom well beyond his years. I settled the bag gently on the ground beside me. “So, what’s a nice guy like you doing in a dangerous place like this?” I asked. I kept my hands in a neutral place — for most people anyway, but not that neutral for a wizard — at my sides, hanging freely. He was smart enough to understand they were still a threat, glancing at them with quick assessing eyes.

The boy watched me coldly. “You are aiding the Demons. I can sense it on you.”

I blinked back. He seemed to have no concern for Othello. Apparently, only I was on his list. “If I’m such a naughty boy, explain why I’ve shut down several Demons in the last twelve hours.” I answered coolly.

The boy continued to stare at me, unruffled. “I do not pretend to understand your murky motives, magic mortal.”

“Say
that
five times fast.”

He blinked slowly like a cat on a fireplace, not amused, refusing to acknowledge my comment. “It is a fact. I know what I see.”

“And what you see might jaded by your righteousness.” I quipped.

He quivered with pious judgment. “Do not blaspheme again. I will grow angry.” The… boy growled. Although he was young, his strength was obvious, and he looked like he had grown up through the school of hard knocks, judging by the faint scars on his face. I guessed battling Demons your entire life left you a little jaded. Or like he had been brainwashed at a young age. A lot of that going around lately. “What you do directly affects Heaven, and directly aids Hell.” He continued quite calmly. “For that, you must be destroyed.”

He drew his huge sword with finality, the whisper of it leaving the sheath a grisly promise of what was to come. Othello didn’t waste any time. She lifted her pistol. “I fucking dare you.”

The boy seemed to notice her for the first time. “Do not let his words sway you. This man is dangerous.”

“Me?” I asked in amazement. “All I have done is fight Demons and my own people the last too many hours. What have I done to piss off
Heaven
?”

“You made a pact with a Greater Demon. I can sense it.” He leaned closer, sword out, but not threatening… yet. “I can
see
it.”
Then
he moved. He suddenly flicked the sword so fast that he could have killed my head right off. If he had wanted to. It was a warning. The tip rested just above my eye. To the damning mark on my forehead. I could hear the crackling energy of his heavenly power reacting to the rune, feel it tingling against my skull.

“I didn’t ask for that. It was forced upon me. I’m not one for brands. Ask her.” I pointed at Othello.

She nodded. “It’s true. I was there when he fought the Demon. This mark was the Demon’s last attack, in order to pit your kind against his cause. The Demons want us fighting each other, but there is a true enemy out there.”

Her voice was soft, soothing, and compelling. The boy shook his head as if at a temptress. “I will not buy these lies. I see the mark. Eae warned you to stay out of it. I saw the aftermath of you killing that wolf. Despite their kind being an abomination, murder is not tolerable.”

“People are murdered all the time and I’ve never heard of your kind getting involved.” I realized that I hadn’t debated the most important accusation.