Grimm: A Novel In The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 3) (25 page)

Like it had been earlier this year by a squad of vengeful Nephilim – the spawn of angels and humans – that had been sent to take me out. I had never told anyone about the vault beneath the store, but the very night I had gone down to pick up something entirely different from the books – the engagement ring I had been wanting to give Indie – no fewer than two groups of supernaturals had been waiting to nab the books from me. Someone knew my secret. Either I had an information leak or the spells I had used to conceal the books had faded and the Grimms could now sense it. Or my spells had never been strong enough. I had been a younger wizard back then. It was quite possible that my spells hadn’t been strong enough to block it now that they were back in our world.

And I didn’t even know
how
they were back in our world…

I looked down at the original edition of
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
in my hands. It supposedly gave them the power to summon allies from the void of darkness where they had resided for a few centuries. I had met one of these lovely creatures already and barely survived. A demonic rooster horse I had turned into chicken nuggets. But it could also bring the rest of them back from the void. I had to keep it away from them. We needed more Grimms in St. Louis like we needed more Cubs fans in Ballpark Village.

At least I could try to even the scales a bit on the crew in my city.

This amulet thing made me nervous. Did it mean we were essentially evenly matched? I would have to change that.

Barbie had ended her story and everyone was now drifting my way. “You guys ready for a scrap?” I asked when they got closer. Their faces were grim, no pun intended, but they nodded as one, flexing fists and checking weapons. “Okay, it’s now or never.” I murmured, finally removing the warding spells from the books, hoping that would attract the Grimms like flies to shit. A greasy ball of acid wriggled its way into my stomach, but my magically enhanced gastrointestinal tract allowed me to hide the sensation.

I opened the book before me. It was filled with the traditional tales, all handwritten in German, but about halfway through the book morphed into a journal, complete with sketches, notes, and descriptions of various supernatural creatures no doubt encountered on their journey across the world. Power veritably throbbed from the pages, and I knew that my plan was a good one. This would attract them, all right.

I closed the book with a snap and tapped the screen of my watch a few times, setting the drone to watch the perimeter of the building. An added sentinel never hurt anyone. I wanted to know the second these punks showed up. I really hoped to see Jacob and Wilhelm. I also hoped that Misha and Tory would notice and respond quickly as a secret attack force.

“We should go outs-”

But I never got to finish that thought because a freaking meteor hit the front door, sending it crashing inside the brownstone in an explosion of splinters and roaring sparks.

Chapter 26

E
veryone bolted to attack positions, racing for the door leading outside. No one wanted to be caught against a wall while fighting these guys. I led the gang, peering out the vacant hole in the wall where the door had been, staring into a winter wonderland. Snow was good. It would hide the battle. I turned to the sprite, “Mask the fight. I can’t afford for the regulars to call the police when they see World War Three erupt on their front porches.” She nodded, face tight, and cast a ball of condensed fog out the window that instantly expanded as it launched into the sky. I used the distraction to throw myself out the door, and also because I heard a monstrous roar of rage and an explosion of fire light up the sky.

I managed to glance at my watch’s screen and my drone showed me a battle from the Apocalypse. A giant red dragon roared through the sky, casting jets of napalm flame down on a group of special ops looking soldiers in all black outfits, complete with guns and night vision goggles. They scrambled, but didn’t look afraid. They fled right into the waiting arms of Tory, who proceeded to Hulk Smash the first wave of Grimms with a city street trash can clutched in each manicured fist.

They didn’t know what hit them.

Bodies went flying. Screams tore through the fog and snow.

The scent of blood struck me like a knife to the nose.

Then I was out the door entirely, using the diversion to cast familiar whips of molten fire and razor sharp ice, using them like chains to harry a nearby group of ancient warriors as they opened fire on Misha and Tory. I tore them to shreds, watching their guns slash in half and their torsos explode in either flame or frost. I was cackling as my magic roared and hissed with unrestrained glee.

I heard a howl and Gunnar flew over my shoulder, tackling a black-eyed Grimm to the ground with his jaws snapping for a throat. Before he could kill him, the Grimm dropped his rifle and shifted to a wolf, rolling at the last second to land on his feet and twist out of Gunnar’s jaws. He growled at Gunnar and then suddenly began packing on the pounds, doubling in size in a handful of seconds. Now, Gunnar was a huge freaking white werewolf. This one was now a twice-huge freaking white werewolf, and he gave Gunnar a lazy doggie grin before charging.

Gunnar barely paused, nothing but malice glittering in his eyes.

Twin shots retorted from out of a nearby window in Alistair’s house and five-hundred-grain silver bullets hammered the Grimm Wolf to pulp. Gunnar looked over his shoulder and barked a complaint at Ashley who was leaning out the window with a defiant grin. But we didn’t have time to revel in glory. There was the better part of a dozen more where these had come from.

Alucard was deep in the mix, tussling with two Grimms who had morphed into vampires and were trying to circle him as they lunged, swung, and bit empty air, razor sharp teeth clacking as loud as gunshots. Alucard whipped out his freaking umbrella again and withdrew a blade from the handle, spinning and whirling like a tornado as he threw himself at the nearest Grimm-pire.

Heh
.

He was impressive. I wondered how old he was, because swordplay like that wasn’t typically taught in school these days. But he sure knew how to party. His laughter filled the night as he moved in a blur, trails of blood painting the snow scarlet as he moved between the Grimms like a wraith.

I was kind of glad he had shown up.

As I picked out my next victim, preparing to face off with one who could duplicate my Maker abilities, I spotted a shady Grimm creeping among his own men, and silently slicing their throats with razor sharp claws. I watched in confusion, and then fascination as I realized what I was seeing. It took the Grimms only a minute to realize what was going on and discover the traitor in their midst.

Raego, using his shapeshifting abilities to look like whatever he wanted, had disguised himself as a Grimm. Two Grimms immediately exploded into half-formed black dragons, glanced down at their arms in apparent surprise at the color, and then looked up at him with pleased grins. Raego smiled back and black dragon arms replaced his own in a violent explosion of scales and claw, his face partially shifting into a dragon snout and his body doubling in size.

Let me tell you something. A dragon’s roar is
loud
. I expected windowpanes to shatter as the foreign vibration rattled the air, urging me to get further away from them.

The Grimms mimicked Raego and it was again two on one, but Raego was more familiar with his powers and used it to his advantage. Bodies struck bodies and razor sharp claws slashed. One Grimm went down in a fountain of blood but no cry, and the other one redoubled his efforts. I could tell that the survivor was more talented.

I quickly glanced around, noticing another dragon racing through the sky chasing Misha, but overall it seemed like we were winning. I saw Tory swinging a car at another Grimm, who took the hit like a champ, and then swung a bigger car at her, striking her in the shoulder and sending her into a nearby tree where she crumpled. I watched anxiously, but she got back to her feet with a glare and a slight limp. I sighed in relief, scanning the streets. There weren’t many Grimms left standing. Perhaps we could pull this off after all!

But I didn’t have time to watch as another Grimm slowly turned to face me, a smile forming on his face. His eyes were as black as the depths of hell. Like the void my ancestor had trapped him in. I instantly recognized him from the pictures in the book. “Wilhelm,” I growled hungrily. “Heard you guys swung by for the book sale I set up.”

His black eyes sparkled as he nodded. “Aye.”

“We already ran out of milk and cookies. Shame. But I made sure to schedule some entertainment for you while you waited. Hope you don’t mind.” I sneered.

“Oh, not at all. I’ve been aching for a good scrap for ages. Thanks to your ancestor.” He grinned teasingly, flexing his fists and rolling his shoulders in preparation for a fight.

I nodded. “It runs in our blood. We’re a sneaky bunch. My ancestor bested you guys what, almost half a century ago? Don’t learn well, eh? Or are you just a sore loser? Speaking of losers, where’s your big brother? Had to send the sniveling younger sibling to take me on? Was he too scared or were you just an easy sacrifice for him to make?” I smiled as his features grew still. “That must sting. Knowing he cast you into a situation you weren’t equipped to handle.” I teased. He glared, obviously upset that I already knew of my ancestor’s involvement, and my mocking tone only fueled his anger further. He watched my whips of elemental power with a hungry gleam, but he didn’t seem to tap into any kind of Maker power. Not yet anyway. “You probably should have learned. Us Temples pretty much piss excellence. I guess I’m going to have to show-”

Something struck my skull from behind and the world exploded in pain. The whips of power went out as I crashed face-first into the snow. I managed to turn my head, spitting out slush, and all I could do was watch as Wilhelm slowly walked my way with lazy, plodding steps. My mind was scrambled. I struggled to gather my power, but then Wilhelm stomped on my wrist, which pretty much shut me down right there. Thankfully, no bones seemed to break, but I did feel an alarming creak of joints. Which wasn’t pleasant.

“Listen up, boy. You really don’t get it. You don’t even stand a fraction of a chance against us. Literally.” He let that sink in, the sounds of battle punctuating his words. I heard a lot of screams, and they didn’t sound like Grimms. “I see you managed to swipe up the vampire. No matter. He wasn’t key to our plans anyway. Just like the Minotaur wasn’t key to our plans. Just a fun excursion.” He chuckled. “Now, you’ve got something that belongs to my family. I’ll be taking it back now. I’ll pay you, of course. I’m not a robber.” He patted his pockets and pantomimed a frown. “Well, that’s embarrassing. I guess I didn’t bring my wallet. Looks like I’ll be accepting your generosity after all.” Hands forcibly pinned me to the snow as he patted down my back, quickly finding the books I had hidden there. I hadn’t wanted to risk leaving them out of my sight so had attached them to my torso with a belt, using a small spell to keep them from weighing me down. He cut the belt and plucked away the books, giving me a quick kick in the ribs.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then someone flipped me onto my back. “Shame it had to end this way.” Wilhelm looked around us, scanning the streets, no doubt realizing how many of them we had taken down. I followed his gaze with a satisfactory smirk.

And blinked.

There were
way
too many Grimms standing. And all my friends were down. Were they all dead? No, they were alive. I let out a relieved breath. Even if we were about to die, at least I would get the chance to look them in the eyes one last time.

I saw Ashley on the ground between two hulking Grimms who were glaring at Gunnar. He lay on the snow; face bloody, scratches on one cheek, glaring back with his lips peeled into a frozen snarl. But he didn’t move. Everyone knelt in a line under direct observation of a row of Grimms. Each guard seemed to mimic the power of their captive, ready to respond in a blink if necessary, but they didn’t seem very alert. In fact, they seemed rather unconcerned about the whole thing; conversing softly with each other while my crew knelt in the cold, wet snow. Nothing moved in the windows of nearby buildings, and I could hear nothing from the outside world.

Just us.

I saw another Grimm stand wearily from kneeling over a body on the ground. His neck had been slashed wide open by claws of some flavor.

Then the dead Grimm stood, shook his head, and wiped his hands on his pants. He bowed in thanks to the lean Grimm, and resumed his position beside his brothers. The Grimm who had apparently healed him or brought him back to life had an iron collar across his throat, etched with deep, mysterious looking runes. A
necromancer
? Able to bring those back from the
dead
? Come on! I idly remembered the two kids with extraordinary healing powers I had met several years ago. The brother and sister that the Grimms had hoped to recruit or kill. Looks like they had been taken, judging by this Grimm’s incredible healing powers.