Ascension: Nate Temple Series Book 13 Page 5

  “This is very interesting, but I have one question before we continue,” Alucard drawled, interrupting our conversation.

  Starlight—bear—turned to look at him. “Go ahead, Morningstar, Horseman of Justice, Daywalker—and whatever other Names you’ve scooped up. With all due respect.”

  “How high are you right now?” he asked, straight-faced.

  “Dude. Not cool,” I hissed. “He’s a magic bear.”

  Starlight chuckled good naturedly. “I don’t even know where I am right now, man. This might be a new level for me. For anyone. I can taste sound.” He glanced over at the hammering press and lifted a paw. “Quiet, you.”

  The. Press. Stopped.

  And I neither saw—nor sensed—any magic whatsoever, even though that was obviously what he’d just used.

  Starlight licked his lips happily. “Ah, much better.” He began chewing on his stick again, and I caught a faint hint of maple in the air. No wonder he was gnawing on it.

  “You’re actually high right now?” I asked incredulously. Alucard must have known him very well to ask such a rude question and then get such a straight-forward answer.

  “So high,” Starlight murmured, grasping with a paw at nothing in particular. I began to feel suddenly cheated, his strange comments about the Elders carrying less significance. He was high out of his mind, and I’d almost bought into his farce. He was obviously powerful and respected—Callie had mentioned Starlight only in passing, but I knew they saw him as a sort of revered Shaman within their Cave, which was what they called their pack of shifter bears. Although he looked to be the size of a young cub, the fur and whiskers around his mouth were gray and old.

  He also didn’t look like much of a fighter. Callie had said that the other bears were all muscle heads, the kind of beings you didn’t want to meet in a dark alley at night—or anywhere else for that matter. So his magic must be significant. The fact that Alucard hadn’t been surprised about how high he was—and that he’d still had no problem using his strange magic despite his impairment—actually spoke volumes.

  That didn’t ease my frustration, though. If anything, it increased it exponentially. What the fuck was I talking to right now?

  He glanced over at me, as if sensing my growing frustration. “Did you know—”

  “I don’t care, bear,” I snapped. “Be gone. I have important things to look after at the moment. Come back when you’re sober.”

  “Heh. You said carebear,” he said, giggling. “Mischief managed.” I flung a blast of air at him, but he was simply gone, leaving my power to shove over the stack of rotten wood. It hadn’t been enough to harm him, but I’d wanted to see how he reacted—wanted to see if I could sense him using magic.

  For the second time, I hadn’t. I spun, lifting up my hands defensively in case he retaliated. “Be helpful or leave. This is not a joke.”

  He laughed, and I found him sitting atop the forklift, propping his rear paws on the impaled wizard’s shoulders. “It’s all a joke, if you know the punchline. Loki is clever. Are you clever Master Temple?”

  I flung another probing blast of air, and this time I noticed a shift to the air before he disappeared. I still didn’t sense any magic, though. I took a steadying breath. “What do you want, Starlight?” I demanded, spotting him seated upon a small pallet jack.

  “To warn you about Mordred, of course.”

  I froze, staring at him. “Mordred is dead.”

  Starlight shrugged. “Dead men give better warnings than living men. Mordred was clever. He almost had Loki, but you messed all of that up. Mordred might have kept him busy, but now he’s out of the game, and you’re surrounded.”

  I growled angrily. “Who am I playing against if Mordred and Loki were just pawns?”

  “Great question, Master Temple. Great fucking question. It seems you know how to use your head when you get out of your own way. That’s worth knowing. If I was here searching for anything,” he said, sounding slightly puzzled. “I can’t remember why I came here,” he said, staring down at the stick in his hands as if surprised to see it.

  “I stole your book,” I reminded him. “I think that’s why you came. It would be incredibly helpful if you didn’t tell Odin about that if he comes looking for it.”

  He scoffed. “Nah. That’s not it. Mordred wanted you to find the Bioloki, and I’m not about to tell Odin diddly squat. I accepted the Bioloki from Mordred so that you wouldn’t waste precious time looking for it later. Mordred wanted Loki at your throat, not in your pocket. And Thor. And the Knightmares.” He glanced up at me. “That was a particularly splendid bit of Naming on your part. You have no idea.” And he clapped his paws softly. “Knightmares!” he cheered, grinning over at Alucard.

  “Mordred wanted me dead,” I growled. “It didn’t work out that way.”

  Starlight shook his head. “No. He didn’t want you dead. He liked you. Respected you, even.”

  I grunted. “I have enough friends. And if he wasn’t trying to kill me, he sure came close.”

  Starlight snorted. “None of them tried to kill you. Not Thor. Not the Knightmares. None.”

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Because as I played through my encounters with them, I realized he was right. The Knightmares had wanted to abduct or imprison me, but none had tried to kill me. I’d confronted Thor numerous times, and he’d always managed to escape, only choosing to confront Gunnar directly. “He wanted me busy,” I said, frowning thoughtfully.

  He nodded. “He wanted you not to rise up any further than you already had. He wanted your star to fall, so his could shine as bright as it should have against any other sky. Your existence made his achievements pale in comparison, despite his prestigious lineage.”

  My phone rang, making me jump. I glanced down, fumbling to silence it. When I saw who it was, I cursed, looking back over at Starlight. But he had disappeared. Damn it.

  Alucard grunted. “Grateful Dead groupie,” he muttered unhappily.

  “I think I’ve had enough of these games.”

  “Does that mean you’re finally ready to meet me in person?” she asked hopefully. Her voice was naturally smoky, making it hard to focus.

  “No. I think I’m just going to find the person funding their field trips and introduce them to extreme violence.”

  “I’ve offered to help you do that, but you keep turning down my advances. What’s a girl to think?” she teased.

  I smirked. “I honestly thought they would have just given up by now. And I don’t see how turning myself in to your care is going to help. In fact, it sounds like a great way to set me up.”

  “You’re a suspicious person by nature, Nate. I get that. I am, too. That has served you well so far. But if I meant you harm, why would I waste my time by giving you guys forewarning about this squad, or any of the other squads? If I was trying to kill you, I wouldn’t have used one of your Shadow Stones to try abducting you at Chateau Falco. I would have used about a dozen RPGs and a fleet of drones.”

  I grew very quiet. That…yeah, that might have done the trick. Then something she had said suddenly made me pause. You guys, she had said. She could see us. Right now. She was here. Maybe I could trap her, but I couldn’t risk giving away my awareness.

  I had to handle this very carefully. Because if she had seen us with Loki, I would need to shut her down. Fast.

  Chapter 9

  I walked over to Alucard, considering my options. If she could currently see me, she wouldn’t have asked how many assassins were in the warehouse, or if they had been wizards. She would have seen it all. So she must be outside.

  I hit the mute button on the phone. “Get Othello to run a trace,” I told Alucard hurriedly, and then I immediately unclicked the mute button. “So where does that leave us?” I quickly asked her, hoping to cover up the brief silence. Alucard began furiously typing on his phone, texting Othello, the best hacker I’d ever met.

  “Where does that leave us?” she repeated, sounding though
tful. “How about this. Go grab one of their phones. Look for an app called Lullaby. Or you can just download it on your own phone. I’ll wait.”

  I frowned, and then motioned for Alucard to toss me Wrenchface’s phone. He used the man’s thumb to unlock the screen and then lobbed the phone at me. I scrolled twice before I saw the app and opened it. “Okay. Looks like a shopping app,” I said, after a brief glance.

  She chuckled. “Click Hot Deals.”

  I did, and several listings popped up. I opened my mouth to tell her to get to the point when the top offer caught my attention.

  “Let me know when you’re finished reading,” the woman said, as if she knew exactly what I was seeing.

  I read through to the end and my eyes widened. I grunted. “One billion dollars to clean a temple,” I muttered, shaking my head. It had been worded carefully, but there was no question I was looking at the assassination contract placed on my head.

  “All the mercs use it, but that’s definitely the largest payout I’ve ever seen,” the woman said. “Congratulations.”

  I handed Alucard the phone, letting him read it for himself. “If you were trying to convince me of our friendship, you only succeeded in giving me a billion reasons why we probably won’t ever be friends.”

  She laughed lightly. “I’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m not making a move until we talk in person.”

  “Why?” I demanded. “This is a billion dollars.”

  “I gave up blood money a long time ago—” she cut off abruptly, and I heard a clicking noise on the other end of the line.

  “Hello?” I asked, wondering if she had dropped the phone.

  “You do know that I’m not hiding from you, right?” she finally asked, sounding annoyed and disappointed. “All I want to do is sit down with you. I’ve made that abundantly clear. I’m smart enough not to approach until you agree to a truce, that’s all.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. Alucard was staring down at his phone with a predatory smile.

  She sighed. “Please. Show me a little professional respect. I doubt it’s a coincidence that the nastiest virus I’ve ever seen just tried to hack into my laptop. I would have told you I was in Colorado if you had just asked me. Othello’s trace was unnecessary.”

  I blinked, shocked to hear her mention Othello’s name so casually. Alucard suddenly held out his phone for me to read. Trace complete—Colorado.

  The fact that this woman had so calmly dismissed Othello’s hacking skills was…absolutely terrifying.

  “You’re a hacker?” I finally asked.

  She scoffed. “Hell no. I knew you worked with Othello, so I hired her through about a dozen proxies to build me a foolproof computer. She will realize that shortly—when her own countermeasures snap back at her. Might want to warn her. She’s literally hacking against herself right now.”

  Alucard held up his phone, smirking as he showed me Othello’s newest text. WHO THE HELL IS THIS BITCH, AND WHERE DID SHE GET ONE OF MY COMPUTERS?!

  I shook my head, waving at Alucard to get it out of my face. “Might as well calm her down,” I told him. “Tell her I’ll explain it later.

  “Niko,” the woman said.

  I frowned, thinking I had missed something she’d said. “Pardon?”

  “Othello will find out eventually, so I figured I would just tell you. My name is Niko.”

  “Oh…how, um, did you see us if you’re in Colorado? You let slip that you knew I wasn’t alone. That’s why I had Othello run the trace. I thought you were here.”

  “Drones, caveman. Drones,” she said dryly.

  “Right. That was my first guess,” I lied, trying to wrap my head around the storm of surprises Niko was hitting me with—an assassination app, her name, her hiring Othello. Who the hell was Niko? I was suddenly glad that she hadn’t tried to kill me yet. “I had to be sure this wasn’t an ambush on your part,” I explained.

  Alucard had apparently finished texting Othello, because he now had his hands on his hips and was nudging Wrenchface with his boot, as if trying to wake him. He wasn’t being gentle about it.

  Niko sighed. “I know. I obviously don’t expect you to take my word for any of this but ask yourself if I’ve done anything to make you doubt my word. I’ve warned you about every single squad who took this contract—and I warned you before they had time to make their move. Without my warning, they would have come for you at any time of day, any location, innocent bystanders be damned. This is a billion dollars, Nate. That much money can easily clean a conscience. Dozens could have died, and they wouldn’t have cared as long as they fulfilled the contract on you. Instant notoriety. Instant wealth. This is a dream job. The phrase too good to be true comes to mind, which was one reason that I decided to try talking to you first.”

  I grunted. “Look. I appreciate your help, but Good Samaritans are mythical creatures in my world. Trust really isn’t a virtue of mine.”

  “I’ll say,” Alucard grunted, planting a boot in the wizard’s ribs. I scowled, but he wasn’t paying attention, the bastard.

  “How many were there this time?” Niko asked.

  “Seven.”

  “All wizards?”

  “As far as I can tell,” I answered, thinking back on their apparent terrible luck.

  “And they took the contract when it was only seven-fifty. The really big hitting crews are about to start popping out—the ones who typically get hired to take out countries and organizations. Think black ops wizards. What if a crew of a dozen Freaks attacked your school to draw you out? Or any school for that matter. As the reward goes up, morals go down.”

  “What about your morals? One billion dollars is very persuasive…”

  She was quiet for a few moments. “My morals go up at an exponential rate when I see prices even a tenth of this size. Only dangerously powerful people offer to pay this kind of money for one man’s head. And since multibillionaires are a rare breed, I’m thinking this is an organization footing the bill. Which is why I’ve been helping you more and more. How long until the price on your head is so high that they take bigger risks? Maybe they attack you when you’re at a big public event like a baseball game? Or they attack a hospital? You start throwing magic around to keep yourself and everyone else safe, and suddenly you become Public Enemy Number One to the authorities—all of them. They might not kill you, but you’d be a wanted fugitive—typical hunting tactic. Put you on the run so you’re easier to pick off. That’s what I would do. Except this annoying little conscience of mine won’t let me.”

  I realized my head felt like it was spinning, even considering the possibility of a group of supernatural assassins attacking me in such a way. Not just at the repercussions of revealing that I was a wizard in a flagrant display of magical carnage, but at how many innocent bystanders might suffer for it.

  All because some bag of assholes was willing to pay a billion dollars to ruin my day.

  “On a related note, make sure you don’t leave any evidence behind at the warehouse. You’ve already got enough bad press without the police finding your DNA at a murder scene.”

  I grunted. “Thanks. I was thinking of writing my name on the ground to really mess with them.”

  “What a novel idea,” she chuckled.

  I let out a breath, trying to think through it all. “Alright, Niko. Tell me your story. When we first talked, you admitted you were contracted to kill me, so you’re a reformed assassin. Why haven’t you pulled the trigger, so to speak? How did you get mixed up in this if you have such a pure heart?”

  “I became a wizard to help people, but the Academy soon learned that I had a knack for combat magic. My intended career took a detour.”

  I processed that in silence. “You’re working for the Academy?” I asked. Then I stared at the dead wizards. “They all work for the Academy?” I growled, feeling my rage building up. I’d given them an ultimatum in the past. I thought I had been perfectly clear with their Grandmaster. It seemed that they
needed a reminder on our relationship status.

  “No. That was where I was trained. Where every wizard is trained. Except for you, of course, which isn’t suspicious at all. Our instructors used to talk about the Temple family dynasty—and it wasn’t flattering.”

  I waved a hand, feeling my anger dying down. Her words made sense. “I already know all about the Academy trash-talking my family. That’s what happens when you don’t grovel and lick their boots. You get blacklisted,” I muttered.

  “That’s why I left before they could recruit me into the Justices. Needed work, so became a merc,” she admitted. “The pay was good, and I got to pick my own targets. Be my own boss.”

  “You realize how that sounds, right? That you’re a killer, and you think you have the moral integrity to judge me? Hell, I didn’t get paid for any of my kills, so I’m pretty sure I’m already winning that contest. How about you come to Chateau Falco and I’ll put you behind a ward to interrogate you on your past crimes?”

  Niko was silent for so long that I thought she might have hung up.

  “That’s what I thought—”

  “Okay,” she said. “We’ll play judge, jury, and executioner for each other. I’ll even answer your questions first. But you have to agree to answer mine immediately after. Killer will judge killer, and a twenty-four-hour truce will follow as we deliberate and then come to a verdict. If I decide you’re guilty, I’ll give you fair warning before I begin hunting you down.”

  I blinked, surprised. “Just like that?” What was her freaking angle here? If I was truly as corrupt as she seemed to fear, why would she agree to such a thing?

  “Sure. Fair is fair. With an oath that you will release me after I answer your questions, of course. Let’s say one hour’s worth of questioning each.”

  Alucard was shaking his head. “Bad idea, man. Whenever a man walks into a police station asking for handcuffs, he’s scheming. Think Keyser Söze from The Usual Suspects.”