Grimm: A Novel In The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 3) (31 page)

“You haven’t stopped frowning for days though.” He answered.

“If my frown grows…
frownier
then.” I turned to address the two legends before me. Then called back out over my shoulder. “The tan one.
His
throat, if I wasn’t clear. I haven’t yet decided about the pasty one.” I heard Gunnar grunt his acknowledgment.

Achilles laughed. And Death peeled his stare from Indie to me. Any other time I would have rocked back on my heels at the intensity of the glare. Not today.

“Balls. You’ve got them in spades.” Achilles chuckled.

I nodded. “My balls have nothing to do with this. Or with spades, for that matter.” Indie coughed, unsuccessfully hiding a laugh.

“You think I’m scared of your wolf?” He asked incredulously, leaning back in his chair.

“No. You should be scared of
me
. He’s just the cannon fodder.” I leaned forward, glad Gunnar or Indie hadn’t made a surprised sound at my callous words. “I don’t care how badass you are. Or how many Trojans you killed. That was a long time ago. This is now.” I growled. “I can obliterate you with a thought.” I snapped my fingers. I turned to Death. “Just ask pasty here.”

Death leaned back contemplating, and then he gave Achilles a single nod.

“If I give you the time to have a thought, that would matter.” Achilles answered softly, voice tight with a controlled fury at my blatant disrespect. I didn’t care. I would go all out, right here, right now, even though I was severely outclassed. Achilles was allegedly a demigod, and a legendary fighter to boot. I wasn’t even confident that my magic could harm the son of Zeus, if that’s what he really was. But I was already on borrowed time anyway. I just didn’t have the patience to be scared, what with the Grimms breathing down my back and all. I could die here toeing off with Achilles or die later at Jacob’s hand. It was really just about timing at this point.

“Your ball. Talk. You sent me into a trap. Was there even a girl?”

Achilles watched me, and then finally shook his head. I took a deep, barely restrained breath, almost letting loose right then. “Why?” I asked, voice like an executioner’s axe.

“Let me be clear. This isn’t me submitting. I am not afraid of you, Maker or not.” I shrugged, unconcerned with his precious ego. “You will pay for this offense, but to be fair, I understand your position.” I wagged my fingers, not hiding my impatience for him to get to his point. His glare hardened. “I got a tip that your place was going to be robbed. The place no one should know about. Only reason I thought to tell you was that it was underneath that comic book shop you own, and wizards are notorious for hiding their stuff in obvious places. It only made sense that if there was a robbery going down beneath your store, it was likely to steal your stuff. I couldn’t interfere openly, so…” he held out a palm as if that explained everything.

I grunted. “Bookstore. Not comic book store.”

He rolled his eyes. “You also sell comics there, right?” He grinned darkly. I squinted back and nodded.

“Let’s pretend I’m not going to kill you right now. We can talk hypothetically. What if I told you that the Brothers Grimm are back to add me to their trophy collection, and that the supernatural community has been acting… odd lately. Strangely. Out of character.”

“I would say that it took you long enough to catch on.”

“You knew about the Grimms?” I all but shouted.

He chuckled. “Who didn’t?” He watched my eyes, face stretching into a smile. “No. Tell me you’re not that blind.” He finally said, my apparent ignorance too impossible to believe. Then he began to laugh, whipping out a scarred fist to slap Death on the shoulder in amusement. Despite Achilles being incredibly strong, and possibly a demigod, Death didn’t budge.

Not even a little.

“I’ve had a lot on my plate lately.” I grumbled. Achilles’ laughter slowly died away.

“Let’s put the pissing contest on hold,” His eyes hardened as he spoke, and I saw his shoulders flex beneath his tee. “Until later.” I nodded at the unspoken threat. “Talk.”

I nodded agreement. So I told him about the werewolves and vampires. About the books. About the attack after the Board meeting. Alucard. Kingston – to which his face grew instantly closed off. The attack at Alistair’s old house, the Armory, my meeting with Jacob. And Temple Industries tanking. I took a breath, and noticed that a glass of water now sat before me. I blinked. I hadn’t seen a bartender. I met Death’s gaze, and he shrugged with a wry smile. So I drank the water.

“I don’t believe in coincidences.” Achilles finally replied, words heavy with undertones.

I agreed. “Maybe you could bring a few of your pals to join me when I meet up with them again.” A flickering candle of hope wavered inside my soul.

Achilles return glare snuffed it out, and then proceeded to dump a bucket of water over the wick. “No. You broke my door.” He folded his arms. I blinked back.

“Fine. I’ll buy you a new one.”

“I doubt your cash position will be the same in the near future. But that’s not the point. You
disrespected
me.” The air grew brittle and my shoulders tightened instinctively, remembering the memory Pandora had once showed me. Of Achilles battling Hector to the death outside the gates of Troy. The tension slowly faded and he sighed. “Also, I can play no part in this battle. Against the rules.”

I opened my mouth to ask what he was talking about, but Death cleared his throat, and shook his head a single time, warning me.

“But I am interested to hear how you plan to defeat them.” Achilles said, drinking from a glass of water that suddenly sat before him.
What the hell?
Where were the drinks coming from?

I withdrew one of the Grimm’s amulets from my coat, and
boy oh boy
did the two legends before me suddenly look interested. “Is that…” I nodded. “But that means you
killed
one.” Death stated in disbelief, glancing at Indie again. I was getting sick and tired of his wandering eyes. I snapped my fingers and he turned my way, looking surprised.

“Eyes over here. I’m territorial.”

He smiled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Achilles reached out for the amulet and I handed it to him after a second’s hesitation. I had another. I didn’t need two. I also didn’t find a need to tell them I had killed two. I tapped the screen on my watch while they fidgeted with the amulet. The screen blinked to life, showing a live feed of the car parked just outside the door. My drone rested on the roof above the bar. I wasn’t about to make things easier for the Grimms by being caught by surprise.

Achilles noticed the view and began to growl. “Relax. It’s a drone. On your roof. I didn’t secretly install permanent surveillance on you bar.” I didn’t add that I had
thought
about doing just that.

All was clear on my screen.

The two legends began murmuring to each other softly, holding the amulet up to the light and inspecting it from all angles. My phone rang.

My hands dove into my pocket to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Master Temple. This is Joe with Candy Cakes.” A pause, waiting for me to acknowledge. I said nothing.

“Yes, well, I’m not sure how to say this, but… several of our bakers called in sick and… well, we won’t be able to meet your deadline.” He stammered, sounding terrified.

A calm, quiet rage replaced my smoldering fight or flight anger, and it felt deadlier to me. Less restrained and more eager to be used. I needed that cake. Tonight. No matter what it cost. I needed at least
one thing
to go my way. “You must be mistaken. Must have forgotten who I am. What I can do. Sure you want it to play out like this?” I spoke, voice dry as dust.

“Um, I don’t think…”

“Exactly.
You. Don’t. Think
.” I enunciated. The line grew silent. “You will have it ready on the contracted time, and I will come pick it up, as we agreed. Or… I foresee a rough year for you.”

I carefully watched my words, all too aware that Indie sat only a few paces away.

“I’m sure that won’t be possible. My boss was quite insistent.” Then he threw in a doozy, and my vision practically wobbled. “Temple Industries is throwing a party of some kind, and have ordered a dozen specially designed cakes that we absolutely cannot refuse.”

“You do realize who owns Temple Industries, you halfwit.” I growled in disbelief.

“Yes, well… that would be the Board of Directors… not… not
you
.” His voice was almost a whisper at the end.

“I will
destroy
you.” I began to hyperventilate. “I will burn-” Gunnar was suddenly beside me. He deftly reached over and grabbed the phone, terminating the call before I could say anything more. He handed it back to me, eyes wary of the manic look no doubt dancing in my eyes.
Burn it all
, a small voice teased in my ears. I squashed it quickly, taking a deep, calming breath.

“Might want to dial it back a bit. He’s just doing his job.” He placed a meaty hand on my shoulder, anchoring me back to reality.

I leaned forward, whispering so softly that I could barely even hear my own voice. “It was the baker. He can’t make the cake! I need at least one freaking thing to go right, goddamnit!” Gunnar blinked back, looking amazed.

“You’re still planning on…” He bit his tongue. I nodded.

“Now I’ll have to get back to
Chateau Falco
and make my own.” I sighed in resignation, realizing I had a better chance of sneaking up on a Grimm to pee on his leg than I did at making strawberry shortcake. I would have to make our go-to yellow cake with chocolate frosting. “There
will
be a cake, by seven hells!” I whispered violently.

“Do we really have time for that?” He asked softly.

I nodded. “That’s really the only thing that matters to me. I want her to know that… in case… well…” He nodded sadly, understanding. “I’m probably going to need Dean’s help. And yours. I need you to babysit her for me.”

Gunnar’s shoulders sagged. “I’m watching Ashley. I guess I can watch both. You doing it tonight?” I nodded. He sighed, gripped my shoulder as he stared deep into my eyes. “You’re a good man, Nate. I’d say yes.” His eyes twinkled in amusement.

I laughed. “Say yes to what?” Indie asked, sidling closer. “What’s going on? Who did you just threaten?” She asked nervously, eyes assessing us, Gunnar’s hand still gripping my shoulder. “Was it
them
?”

I opened my mouth, and then realized what it must have sounded like. “Kind of. An associate.” I turned back to Achilles and Death. The Rider was watching Achilles fumble with the amulet. He set it down on the table and took a drink of his water, eyes peering over the rim of his glass, directly at me.

“I think it’s time we leave.” I snatched up the amulet, tucking it away inside my coat. I noted Death eyeing the amulet as I did so, looking thoughtful.

Achilles stood, so did Death. “We’ll walk you out.” He said under his breath.

I walked out the door, back into the cold. I began to turn around to say farewell and apologize when a fist latched onto my shoulder and I was suddenly sailing through the air, my ears whistling before my body slammed into the brick wall of the bar. I realized Achilles was holding me pinned against the stone, breathing heavily.

“Just so you understand. If you survive this mess, you and I are going to have a chat. A nice, long,
pointed
chat.” His words were concise, clipped, and dripping with malice.

I used my power to sharply, but carefully pinch his Achilles tendon through his boots.

He yelped instinctively, dropping me as he darted back, fists up, ready to send an Olympian sized fist at my delicate nose. I held up my hands. “I’m always up for a talk. But I don’t take kindly to attacks when my back is turned.” Achilles’ face was red, heaving at the minor insult and obvious display of his only weakness. He was a hair away from Hulking out on me. “You want to talk? I love talks. To my face. Not as I’m walking out of a building. Your building. After we shared drinks with each other.” My voice was low, dark, and imposing. Achilles eyes tightened, understanding, and looking slightly mollified at his action’s lack of honor. One didn’t attack a person they had just shared drinks with in their own place of business. Their
home
. “Just know. Next time you pull a stunt like that, Olympian or not, I will throw down without restraint. I’m awfully curious to see what a Maker can do when he really cuts loose.” I was almost getting tired of using that threat. But the look in his eyes altered my opinion.

Perhaps I would use it a few more times.

Achilles took a step forward. I held up a hand. “Admit it. You sent me on a suicide mission. I survived, and came back pissed, as would anyone. I shouldn’t have broken your door… but you shouldn’t have tried to pull one over on me like that, good intentions or not.” His shoulders sagged, and I happened to look over his shoulder for a millisecond. I stopped breathing for a second. A line of men stood on the opposite side of the street, watching us. They looked familiar. I began to growl, and Achilles whirled, knuckles cracking as he realized he had had his back to a gang of unsavory looking individuals.

Chapter 31