Grimm: A Novel In The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 3) (15 page)

The other Grimm somehow managed to maintain the same speed as the liger, which just wasn’t fair. We didn’t stand a chance outrunning them.

Then the freaking scenery changed and I suddenly found myself racing through the equivalent of the African Savannah rather than snow covered grass. I spotted a herd of motionless gazelles where the reporters had been, and felt a faint whisper of an icy wind ruffle my shaggy hair. I didn’t even slow down, well past my disbelief quota for the day. So I rolled with it, but I heard Ashley let out a sharp exhale of surprise. Still, she didn’t slow down either, apparently accepting our teleportation without breaking stride. Either that or the Grimms had simply made it
look
like we had been teleported to a new location.

Yeah, that jived.
Fear
. They were trying to scare us. Now, being chased by a liger was terrifying. But being chased by a liger while suddenly being teleported to the African Savannah was a whole new level. Well, for most sane people anyway.

But Ashley and I were well beyond sane.

Without completely understanding how, I cast a cord of supercharged electricity behind us in a makeshift trip line. The spell crackled with purple energy across the ground, arcs of power sporadically zapping to ash anything it deemed alive. Then it disappeared from view. Invisible.

Huh.

I hadn’t ever thought of doing anything like that before.

Without allowing myself to get caught up in the magic –
heh
– of my strange new powers, I copied the spell two more times, staggering their spacing in hopes that at least one would nab the liger, and switched the type of destructive power for each – one made of flowing lava and one of razor sharp crystals – both invisible. Remembering the size of the racing fire liger, I imagined that the height of the trip wires was a foot higher. Not being able to see it, I took it on faith that it was in fact higher than I had first seen it. I just hoped that the Grimms either hadn’t seen it in their hunger for the chase, or at least didn’t remember exactly where it had been.

Then the other Grimm decided he didn’t want to be left out of the shape-shifting party, and shed his mortal skin midstride.

Again, it was really good that Ashley hadn’t turned around. At least she wouldn’t die with the shame of soiled pants. Even for me it was a close call as my eyes widened in further disbelief.

“Oh, come on!” I complained under my huffing breaths.

I managed to keep shuffling backwards in a clumsy run as I watched him shift into a freaking ape like Caesar from that new
Planet of the Apes
movie franchise, fully decked out in armor that covered his thickly muscled frame. He clutched a wicked looking bone-tipped spear in his stupid opposable thumbed fist. The twinkle in his eyes reminded me of how eerily intelligent Caesar had been in the movie.

But the Grimm looked smarter.

Proving this point, he launched himself onto the liger’s back and they really began to pour on the speed, small craters of flame erupting with each strike of paw to sand.

The ape let out an ululating cry of glee from astride the liger as he pointed at my satchel with his spear.

The liger let out a roar of such ferocity I could practically feel it.

I opened my mouth to shout a defiant yell of my own, not wanting to feel left out, and immediately slammed into a warm body, my head cracking against another skull. My vision exploded in a supernova of stars. The sounds of pursuit rose in pitch. I managed to see Ashley lying beneath me, clutching her head with a groan. She had stopped for some reason, and since I had been running backwards I hadn’t realized it until it was too late.

I managed to gain enough control over my body to look back and face our impending death. I realized my hand was resting on Ashley’s rear end for support, which was firmer than I would have thought.

Gunnar and Indie would have killed me for that.

But I didn’t have time to worry about Gunnar or Indie. It was over. Even as a Maker, I didn’t have the juice to stand up to two of these things by myself, not while trying to keep an incapacitated Ashley safe. I murmured a goodbye to Indie under my breath, and pulled deep on the strange reservoir of power, clawing for something I could do to them as a final attack. I might die here, but at least I would go down fighting.

The liger jumped, fiery mane rippling in the wind as it sailed through the air in a parabolic arc that would end at my face. The ape reared back to launch his spear with a precision that had to have been rehearsed.

The motion drew my attention to a spot just below them a second before he loosed the spear.

A small purple flicker of hope among the desert brush.

I frantically imagined that the trip wire was higher. In fact, I imagined it was
exactly
where the Grimms were.

One second they were flying at my face, and the next thing I knew there was a purple implosion in the air. A wave of grit pelted us like a miniature sandstorm before I managed to shield my eyes with my sleeve.

I gagged, coughing up a mouthful of Grimm grit as I leaned to the side in case I retched. My head butted into a shaft of solid oak quivering in the earth beside me, directly between Ashley’s legs. I looked up to see her staring at the spear that had almost killed her. Then her eyes rose to mine in wide-eyed disbelief. I’m sure my face was the same. The scenery abruptly snapped back to the chilly winter streets of St. Louis with a faint
pop
. She didn’t even comment on
that
.

“A
liger
?” She whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a freaking liger chasing us?” She stammered in disbelief.

I shrugged, taking a shallow breath in case the air was still tainted with Grimm particles. I hadn’t known she had seen any of it, assuming she had been down for the count. “That was nothing. Did you see the ape riding on his back?” She blinked at me. “That was his.” I pointed at the spear. Her eyes darted to the spear, then back to me. “You can have it. I’ve already got one.” I muttered woozily, clutching my stomach as a sharp burst of pain broke through my control. My fingers came back wet with blood, but I didn’t let Ashley see.

And then she began to laugh, her brain unable to comprehend the situation in its entirety. After a few seconds I joined her. I slowly climbed to my feet with a groan.

I glanced at the now snowy ground, idly wondering about the brief excursion into the Savannah and if it had merely been an illusion rather than a teleportation. Judging by its disappearance after the Grimms died I was betting so. Otherwise we would have been wandering around the desert right about now. “We probably need to get ba-”

“Your stomach!” Ashley jumped to her feet, gripping my shoulder as if I was about to fall down. “We need to get you to a hosp-”

“No,” I gripped her arm to enunciate. She looked me in the eyes, frowning, ready to argue. “No way. No hospitals. I’m fine. For now… but we need to get back to the crowd and get my satchel. Now. Before it disappears or in case there were more of them.”

I spotted a shiny item on the ground, and like all girls, squirrels, and toddlers, I made a move to grab it. I picked up a pair of ancient looking amulets right below where the Grimms had imploded in the air.

“What are they?” Ashley asked, peering over my shoulder curiously. I shoved them into my pocket for later.

“I have no idea. Let’s go. Some of the reporters were injured.”

We began to jog drunkenly back to the building, both our heads still a little woozy, but determined to retrieve the satchel and offer what help we could. We found the people milling about in a frenzied mass at the scene of the gunfight. Several Board Members stood apart, assessing the broken glass, and a small swarm surrounded the injured reporters, but the rest had turned on their cameras to document everything. Everyone froze at our approach.

And waited, unspeaking.

I cleared my throat, fighting my growing nausea. “The security guards tried to kill Ashley and I with machine guns.” I mentally squirmed at the upcoming lie forming on my lips. “We chased them away, but they escaped in a waiting van and we lost them.” I spotted the approximate location where the satchel should have been and sent out an invisible feeler to sweep the ground. I felt a slight resistance but when no one shrieked about someone grabbing their foot, I knew I had guessed right. I pulled it closer to hover beside me, still invisible. I could feel my power slowly fading, and the pain coming back.

“You chased them away…” One reporter murmured loud enough for all to hear. “Two men with machine guns.” I nodded, trying to remain on my feet as the power began to leak out of me at a faster rate. The reporter met my eyes with a disbelieving look. “That none of us saw…”

I blinked sluggishly in response. Ashley swooped in to save me. “Yes. You’ll find shell casings from my Glock 19’s around here as well as those from the security guards.”

“He’s bleeding!” One of the reporters shouted, pointing at my stomach.

I glanced down and staggered at the sight. There was a lot of blood. Ashley suddenly gripped my arm, whispering in my ear. “We need to get you help,
now
!” She hissed. I nodded, feeling overwhelmingly dizzy as my magic went out with a weak puff, bringing back the pain like a surprise sledgehammer blow. My knees buckled at the agony, but Ashley held me, and immediately guided me towards a waiting taxi. I heard the sounds of her speaking to the driver, but couldn’t understand the words. The world seemed muted by a fuzzy down blanket of lead, and a throbbing fire ate at my stomach.

I managed to mumble over my shoulder before Ashley was able to stop me. “I’m not selling Temple Industries.” The crowd erupted with noise, before the car door slammed shut.

The car pulled out onto the icy streets and we fled, no doubt to avoid any authorities. I closed my eyes and my breath began to increase in ragged pulls as I tried to remember the fight. Why hadn’t the Grimms attacked in full force after the first salvo? Seeing a wounded wizard on the ground should have upped their bloodlust, but they hadn’t come for me when they had held the best chance for success. Instead, their gaze had been fixated on my satchel. I had a leak somewhere. And only my inner circle knew what was inside the satchel. Unless it was just a lucky guess on their part.

I listened to the gentle lullaby of the tires on snow, trying to gather my thoughts. I glanced down and wished I hadn’t. Apparently the Grimms had got me good and I had lost enough blood to convince my brain to do a hard reset. The darkness began to pull me under and I smiled, listening to Ashley yell something about a hospital to the driver.

“No,
Chateau Falco
.” I murmured. Ashley shot me a nervous look, but I went
nighty-night
instead of waiting for her response.

Chapter 14

I
woke up a few subjective centuries later, instantly thrashing about wildly with my hands and breathing in short strangled gasps as I realized I didn’t have-

“Easy, Nate. It’s right here.” Ashley offered the satchel to me. We were both in the back seat. I snatched it greedily from her hands, opening it to glance inside and verify the books were safe. I even risked lowering the wards for a moment to check that they weren’t plants but the real books. We were driving, so I felt relatively safe that the Grimms would have a hard time tracking me while on the move. I hoped I wasn’t underestimating them. I let out a sigh that sent a spasm of pain through my abdominal wall. I glanced down.

Oh yeah. Gutshot.

Curling my head to look at it caused the pain to flare again, but not as badly this time. My body had evidently grown used to the idea that the pain wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so had welcomed the new wound to the numerous neighbors of older wounds I had accumulated over the years.

“So, how in the hell did we get back to St. Louis?” Ashley asked, noticing that I was fully awake.

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure we visited the desert for a while there.”

I looked out the window, remembering the Grimm’s transformation of their own bodies, and then the very reality around us. “What do you think of when you think of the African Savannah?”

She turned to look at me. “Danger. The hunt of predatory animals. Why?”

I nodded. “I don’t think we actually changed locations. I think they just made the environment
look
like the Savannah. For the fear factor. To mess with us. Scared prey makes mistakes. I think it was a form of glamour.” She blinked at me in disbelief. I could get that. I mean, on the fly they had managed to successfully alter every detail well enough to convince us we were on the Plains, running for our lives. “Did you see the gazelles?” She shook her head with furrowed eyebrows. “That was the reporters. Innocent, harmless, large group of creatures just standing there doing nothing.” She blinked at me. Managing to make it look doubtful. “Look, a real herd of gazelles would have bolted at the first roar, right?” she looked thoughtful, nodding finally.

“Wow. That’s… frightening. Is there a way to see through glamour? What if they do it again when we aren’t expecting it? We think we’re walking into
Chateau Falco
and really we’re walking into their arms.”