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  Nine Souls

  A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 9

  Shayne Silvers

  Argento Publishing, LLC

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Shayne Silvers

  Nine Souls

  A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 9

  ISBN: 978-1-947709-07-2

  © 2018, Shayne Silvers / Argento Publishing, LLC

  [email protected]

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

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  Chapter 1

  I fidgeted with the cuffs of my dress shirt, staring at the most beautiful woman in the room. She stared back, a faint smile on her pale cheeks. Her white hair was shorter than when I had first met her, now brushing her jaws in a jagged, messy line that she somehow made look sexy and dangerous. She wore a silver dress that hugged her frame like a frosted candy coating.

  I tried not to imagine myself licking it off her to see what lay underneath. But her growing smile told me she had read my mind. Was her smile amusement or… inviting?

  “Just do something with her already,” Alucard complained in a low growl. “Cradle robber.”

  Which was enough to snap my mind out of the gutter. I shot him a dark look, but I didn’t need to defend myself out loud. Callie Penrose was younger than me, but only by a handful of years. We had spent a lot of time around each other recently, not as much as I wanted, but neither of us had taken that last step – possibly fearing what would happen the next morning. Two wizards with ties to Heaven playing pre-marital confession under the sheets could have all sorts of consequences.

  I turned to the hard-looking man sitting near her. His eyes assessed the room out of habit. At least his eyes weren’t glowing red at the moment. Roland Haviar, ex-Shepherd, now vampire.

  As was usual now, Roland was flanked between two stunning brunettes with Callie sitting next to the unlikely trio. They wore playful smiles as they noticed my gaze drifting back to Callie.

  “Are they taken?” Alucard murmured softly, discreetly gesturing to the two brunettes.

  Roland had been a Shepherd – a warrior wizard priest who hunted monsters for the Vatican. But all that had changed months ago when he had been turned into a vampire. He and Callie had gone to the Vatican to save the two brunettes – fledgling werewolves – from a false murder charge. That act had broken the Vatican Shepherds, revealing both a traitor and Roland’s new… affliction. The wolves had instantly become Roland’s loyal companions – like every bad vampire cliché ever. His two familiars or something. I hadn’t decided if the relationship was romantic or not. It was really hard to tell sometimes. They were very… clingy with Roland.

  Long story short, none of them considered themselves employed by the Vatican any longer.

  “You don’t want to play with Paradise and Lost,” I warned him, finally breaking eye contact with Callie to study the two brunettes. They had dressed to impress, proudly displaying their cleavage in tasteful but revealing crimson dresses. They knew they attracted attention. Paradise was taller, and Lost was shorter, but both could have been sisters.

  The Reds – two teenaged weredragons – sat near them, studying the two wolves as if taking notes. Yahn, a tow-headed dragon shifter sat between them, much like Roland, and there was definitely some sinning going on somewhere in that triangle of teen angst, but I’d be damned if I knew exactly what it was. Yahn was either dating one or both of the red dragon sisters.

  I let the thought go, not wanting to know. Especially since Alucard – the Daywalker vampire standing next to me – was their adopted father. Alucard and I stood elevated above the seated guests, who were mostly chatting back and forth with each other, and thankfully not staring at our every move.

  Yet.

  “Just ask Gunnar’s pack. A few of them tried to play red rocket with Paradise and Lost.” I shot Alucard a meaningful look. “It didn’t end well.” The two stunners turned to me as if they had heard me say their names – the names they had given themselves after all the chaos they had been through. They licked their lips at Alucard, their smoldering eyes practically inviting him to try his hand.

  He coughed pointedly – whether at my crude reference or their hungry eyes, I didn’t care.

  My eyes flicked from place to place about the room, wary for threats. “Everything is fine,” I murmured, letting out a breath. “Nothing is going to happen.”

  Alucard grunted beside me. His eyes caught a ray of the setting sun from the glass window behind us, flashing for a moment. He looked relaxed, at peace. Of course, the sun hitting him was like a constant battery, charging this new breed of vampire that didn’t need blood to fang out. “Except a man is about to lose his life,” he reminded me.

  I nodded soberly. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m surprised it took this long.”

  “Do you think we could have prevented this if we had been better friends?” he asked softly.

  I felt Tory glaring at us from a few paces away on the modern-day execution block. The Huntress stood beside her, looking beautiful, but uncomfortable in her dress. I averted my eyes from her as I replied.

  “No. Death comes for us all.”

  “He does,” a new voice said. My sphincter tightened enough for my entire body to flinch at the arrival of the stranger. I let out a breath and shot the newcomer an anxious look. He was cleverly disguised in a well-fitting black suit, but no clothing could have hidden the depths in those eyes. His three Brothers watched over various points around the room, alert for dangers.

  Of any kind.

  “Little early. The body isn’t even cold,” I whispered to Death – Horseman of the Apocalypse.

  He rolled his eyes. “So dramatic. It happens to everyone. Well, many, at least.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  Gunnar, the Alpha werewolf of St. Louis, sensed the sudden arrival from a few feet away. He shot a panicked look at us and then swept his lone eye over the small gathering, checking exits for threats. Seeing nothing, he still didn’t look relieved, almost as if he was about to approach and demand answers to why the Horseman of Death had arrived so suddenly. I waved a hand at him discreetly, mouthing I’ll handle it.

  He gave me a stiff nod before turning away to speak to the last person on the execution block.

  “I have something to tell you, of course,” Death murmured dryly.

  “Well, wait twenty fucking minutes. We’re about to start.”

  “It cannot wait. Your request has been answered. Three may enter, but three shall not leave. You have two days. Meet me at the Arch at Noon.” I almost popped a button on my suit as I spun, but Death only stared back with an immortal grin – not of pleasure, but of… something. “Oh, and you might want to remove that before…” he indicated a few spaces away with his chin before waving a hand at the gathered crowd and the door at the far end of the room.

  I glanced down where Death had indicated. Gunnar was busy talking in low tones with a woman in front of him. A dead mouse had been placed behind his foot. I frowned at it
and then turned back to Death, but the Horseman of the Apocalypse was gone. I saw him stalking the perimeter of the seated guests, hands clasped behind his back, hyper vigilant. The woman speaking with Gunnar briefly glanced at me and then tracked Death’s gait thoughtfully. Othello was no doubt wondering what her kind-of-sometimes-boyfriend had been doing on the stage where a man was about to be executed for the oldest crime of all time.

  Alucard grunted beside me, his eyes noting the dead mouse. “I guess Talon wasn’t as pleased with his role in this as we thought.”

  Organs abruptly belted out in a rehearsed melody, preparing the gathered crowd for the dark ritual only moments away. Everyone seated before the stage turned in their seats to see the doors at the far end of the room open. I used the distraction to swoop in and scoop up the dead rodent by the tail. I flung it behind me, aiming for a few potted plants near the wall.

  Othello stared at me with wide eyes, but she was in no position to ask questions as she stood beside Gunnar on the elevated stage. I gave her a crooked grin, turning back to stare down the aisle between the seated witnesses – where the Executioner would soon appear. Gunnar’s stone eyepatch glinted in the sunlight from the windows as he faced his death with a brave smile.

  A young girl appeared at the open door. She flashed the crowd a smile, a mockery of the horror about to unfold.

  And then she began to walk down the aisle, tossing flower petals to the left and right.

  A beautiful Maine Coon wearing an ornate blue bow with shells of some kind woven into the silk ribbon followed the girl. He stalked with feline grace – that strut that wildcats had used to prowl the darkest corners of the world throughout history – as if considering how best to slaughter the young girl with the petals. His fur had been combed and his long, furry ears pointed high in the air, swiveling now and then to catch sounds none of us would have noticed, alert for dangers. He was easily fifty pounds and walked on all fours taller than many dogs. His tail twitched back and forth with agitation.

  I tried not to smile as I dipped my head at him in gratitude.

  “Jesus. He looks like he wants to kill us all…” Alucard breathed.

  I let out a breath, taking in Talon’s mercurial eyes. They did indeed shine with murder, but no one else seemed to notice. Gunnar deferentially lowered his beard at the feline, a silent thank you. Talon’s eyes swept the ground at his feet, searching for the mouse I had just removed. Then he shot me a look and…

  Winked. Which is weird as shit. Cats weren’t designed to wink. Especially intelligently.

  Gunnar frowned, glancing down, sensing nothing. But he did sniff the air, as if only just sensing the small death that had been there. He shot me a look and I shrugged guiltily.

  “Maybe the dead mouse was a sign of what this is going to cost us…” Alucard whispered.

  “Nah. Cats leave dead things behind for their owners all the time. It’s like a…” I searched for the word, and then smiled. “An offering. A present.”

  When I heard no response, I glanced over to see Alucard frowning at me. “I don’t think it was a present, Nate. Look at him. He wants to kill us. All of us. You, too.”

  “He won’t kill me. Maybe you, Sparkles, but I’m safe. He’s my Shadow. My guard.”

  “If you two can’t shut the hell up for two minutes, I’m going to kick you out, no matter what Han Solo says,” Othello warned in a growl loud enough for us to hear, but soft enough to be hidden by the oohs and aahs of the crowd as they fixated on the procession heading our way. Gunnar shot an anxious glare at us, hiding it from the crowd.

  Othello was running this dark ritual, and she took her job very seriously.

  I nodded, murmuring one last thing to Alucard as I watched Talon stalk closer to us, the cloth bundle at the base of his throat swinging back and forth. “He asked what he could do to strengthen the relationship between my other childhood friend. Ring bearer to Gunnar’s freaking wedding sounded like a great idea.”

  But watching Talon now, and considering the dead rodent… I began to have doubts. Because Talon wasn’t really a cat – that was just one of his shapes. He was naturally a bipedal feline Fae warrior – like a Thundercat. He had chosen his less threatening form for this event. And three things in this life made Talon the Devourer truly happy.

  Murdering anything with a heartbeat.

  Getting high on Fae catnip.

  And chasing reflections of light on the ground.

  Talon stalked up the steps toward the Alpha werewolf of St. Louis, and I held my breath.

  He finally stepped to the side and sat down between Tory and Gunnar, turning out to face the crowd, and I let out a breath of relief.

  “Are… those mouse skulls woven into the ribbon?” Alucard whispered from beside me.

  I subtly glanced at Talon to see him licking his paw. He did have skulls woven into the ribbon, almost too small to notice. They gleamed wetly as if freshly acquired. He sensed my attention and turned to face me, paw still in the air. His lips curled back in a predatory grin.

  The music changed to a different funeral dirge, and I turned, plastering a smile on my face. If Talon wanted to add some skulls to his ribbon as a small show of defiance, oh well. It was better than killing the flower girl.

  “We’re almost done. Nothing has happened yet. It’s all going to work out fine,” I told myself under my breath.

  Then the executioner appeared at the end of the aisle, as radiant as an Angel of Death.

  A collective breath went up as the audience stared at her with awed joy.

  Ashley truly did look radiant in her wedding gown.

  So why did I have a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach?

  We had enough guards here at Chateau Falco to prevent a war. Horsemen, werewolves, Odin’s Ravens, the shifter students from Shift, even a few Kansas City Freaks.

  We were safe…

  But that feeling didn’t go away.

  Chapter 2

  Everyone stared transfixed as Dean led Ashley down the aisle – my butler standing in as her father since this was a monster’s only wedding. Gunnar’s face cracked into a dogged grin, practically salivating as the setting sun glinted off her skin. Her red hair fanned down her back in wavy ringlets that, although it appeared natural, I was sure had taken the equivalent of a decade to prepare. Her face shone with joy, and as I studied the petite redhead, a ray of sunlight struck her eyes.

  And I saw a monster within.

  Because Ashley had gone to the Land of the Fae with me, and she had brought back a roommate. Not a different being or anything, but a new… awareness – Wulfra. She was the Wolf Queen to Gunnar’s Wolf King – Wulfric.

  This slip of a girl had also killed Hercules in hand to hand combat.

  But she looked so cute in that wedding gown that I wanted to just gobble her up!

  Sensing Gunnar beside me, I wisely kept this thought to myself. Talon had ceased cleaning himself and sat staring – like the Cheshire Cat – as she approached. The wedding party consisted of Alucard and me with Gunnar, Tory and the Huntress with Ashley, and Othello officiating.

  Othello had computer hacked her way into getting a license to legally bind this wedding, rather than waiting the required short period of time for the paperwork to arrive. Knowing Othello, her illegal documentation was probably more ironclad than any legal license. Because she was one of the best hackers in the world. If she had heard me qualify that with one of she would have stolen my identity, robbed me of every penny that had ever even considered depositing itself into an account with my name, and likely would have buried me with billions of dollars’ worth of debts that would take trillions of dollars in legal fees to disprove.

  Because hackers could get vengeful when their skills were doubted. Rule of thumb, never piss off a passive aggressive person. Ever.

  I could tell that Othello was loving every minute of this perfect union. One, because she was a romantic at heart. Two, because she was prominently displayed as the power behind t
he holy matrimony when she usually had to work from the shadows.

  Ashley’s gown trailed behind her as she climbed the steps to stand beside Gunnar. Dean gave her an awkward hug before passing her hand to Gunnar, who took it with a dip of his head in respect to Dean. The butler had been a constant figure in our lives since childhood, and was a de facto father to all my friends, but especially to Gunnar and me.

  A whisper of a smile crossed his reserved face – but he hid it from others as he turned away and took a seat in the front row.

  Othello cleared her throat delicately. “We are gathered here today…” I lost myself in her words, discreetly glancing about for dangers, because that prickling sensation hadn’t faded. Either I was paranoid or something was wrong. But I saw nothing alarming, and knew the Horsemen ‘Ushers’ would make short shrift of anyone daring to interfere with my best friend’s wedding.

  I found myself staring at Callie again.

  Remembering our recent travels all over the world. A few weeks of bliss. No real dangers, no threats, just a couple of kids having fun together. Not even romance, really. More just… feeling each other out.

  I wouldn’t have turned down a little feeling each other up, but even I can’t get everything I want all the time. I saw her face bloom into an amused smile as she noticed my attention, and my grin turned roguish – full of smug pride. Spikes of fire abruptly pierced my shins and then tugged down like a fistful of scalpels.

  I almost shrieked in alarm – a heartbeat away from calling up my magic whips to incinerate anything near me that could have even remotely been described as bad guy. I glanced down to see my murderous kitty, Talon, casually retracting his claws from my flesh, blinking up at me with fake innocence. To top it off, he extended his neck to rub his chin across my shins, purring happily.

  I let out a breath, trying to mask my sudden glare. At a sound, I looked up to see Tory, Ashley’s Maid of Honor, screaming at me with only her eyes. I suddenly felt every single eye pointed in my direction. I saw the flash of white gold in Tory’s open palm and my eyes widened. The ring! It was inside the satchel at Talon’s throat. Pretty much my only job as Best Man. I knelt down and detached the satchel, withdrawing the lone ring inside.