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Wild Side: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 7 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 9
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We might have let our hormones interfere a little in Kansas City, but nothing had really happened, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Neither of us had rejected the other, but we had… danced back and forth in the romance arena.
And, surprisingly, I liked that.
And I think she did, too.
I let those thoughts evaporate as I focused on simply being with her, here, now. Enjoying myself. No war. No angry Greeks. No vengeful ex-fiancée. No Fae. Just two friends exploring a dusty old house. A smile crept onto my face.
“Falco, SPEAK!” I shouted. Callie whirled, eyes wide, surprised by my sudden outburst. She saw me grinning, arms folded.
And then the house began to purr. More of a grumble really. Callie’s widened eyes shot to the ceiling, the walls, the floor, and then back to me.
“Thanks, Falco,” I said, looking up at the ceiling. The house quieted, and I turned back to Callie with a big grin. “Cool, huh?”
She stared at me for a few seconds. “The house is… alive?” she whispered.
I shrugged. “Kind of.”
She stared at me longer this time, and then a slow smile began to split her cheeks. “That is…” she trailed off, studying the walls as if she had never seen them before. “So cool!” She walked up to one of the walls, glanced over her shoulder at me – catching me subconsciously appreciating her posterior with a quick smirk – and then petted the wall. “Hi, Falco,” she said. “I’m Callie.”
The house purred soothingly, and Callie giggled.
I shook my head, amused, and embarrassed at her catching my wandering eye. “Let’s go.”
She danced up beside me, and casually twined her arm through mine like I was escorting her to a dance, head darting back and forth to take everything in: each painting, table, artifact on a shelf, and antique piece of furniture. Her appetite for beauty and exploration knew no bounds.
She was voracious.
Remembering her father’s home, I had a sudden understanding of why. This was a palace to her, and it was the little moments like this one which constantly brought me back to reality.
My sense of normal was entirely different from others’. Her family had worked their asses off to make ends meet.
I had lived like a king my whole life.
Showing her something that made her smile felt like the best gift I could offer, and watching her reaction made me realize I had been missing something for a very long time. Genuine joy. Not a triumphant victory over evil, but basic, simple joy. Being happy about the little things.
And I liked seeing that smile. It was just so pure.
It wasn’t even romance. It was just seeing a beautiful, kind-hearted woman so deliriously happy. And I liked making people smile for pleasant reasons. Those little things add up.
“I want to show you something,” I said.
Without missing a beat, she said, “As long as it’s not your bedroom.”
I blinked, and began stammering an argument. She squeezed my arm, eyes twinkling as she let me fumble around with my words. I finally sighed, shot her a scowl for good measure, and then led her onwards.
A short time later, we stood before the door that led to the Sanctorum. I placed my palm against the door, and it dissolved into a waterfall of sand, revealing an opening. Callie gasped, then grabbed my hand. She turned it upwards to see the crest branded there, and frowned thoughtfully. “I saw that once and thought it was something else.”
I frowned, but she dropped my hand and tugged me through the opening, not waiting to let me lead. I grinned at her back, allowing her to drag me through my own house.
When we finally exited the hallway to enter the massive Sanctorum, Callie grew very still, dropping my hand. Then she began to spin in a slow circle, taking it all in. She squealed when she saw the waterfall, running up to it to let the water splash over her fingertips. She laughed, a great, chiming sound, and I found myself chuckling. It was like watching a puppy.
She danced over to the desk, eyes fixing onto the carving on one of the legs for a brief moment before studying the intricate carving of the desk itself. Then she moved onto the bookshelves, studying them quickly as she strode past.
Her eyes locked onto the concaves carved into the floor, and noticing they were filled with pillows, she jumped into one of them. She furrowed a brow at the fireplace until it burst into purple flame. She looked up at me, patted the pillows beside her, and then rested her head on her palm, waiting.
“What if the fireplace was rigged to blow up or something?”
She frowned. “Why would anyone rig a fireplace to explode?” She patted the pillows again, and I found myself shaking my head as I joined her. She was silent for a few moments, leaning back into the pillows as her eyes trailed up to the ceiling, studying the constellations depicted above – with genuine gemstones.
“Did you make this?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No. One of my ancestors did. He built the whole place.”
She murmured unintelligibly, and then turned to face me. “He must have loved beauty,” she said, staring right through my eyes and into my soul. I swallowed, but managed a nod.
That was the other thing about Callie. When she looked at you, she really looked at you. She did it to everyone, and probably didn’t comprehend the intensity of those blue eyes.
Or maybe she did, and used it as a weapon, only feigning innocence.
She slowly swiveled her head, taking in the room. “A house built by an ancestor. It talks. And this room is obviously full of magic because none of the books are damaged by the water.” She jerked her thin chin at the blank space opposite the waterfall, where a hidden Round Table could be raised. “And there is something seriously weird about that section of the room,” she said absently, before turning away. “Is your house a trapped angel? Or demon?”
I blinked, opening my mouth, but found I was unable to answer, because I wasn’t sure of the truth. It took me a few moments, and she didn’t turn my way as I clamored for a response. “I don’t think it’s a demon. But it’s alive. Sentient. Have you ever heard of a Maker?” I asked.
She shook her head lightly. “According to my boss, there is only one Maker,” she said with a smirk. I smiled back, nodding. Because she worked for the Vatican.
“Well, a Maker is… hmm. A Maker has the ability to make things. He can literally think of what he wants, and make it so.”
She turned to me, frowning. “How is that different from a wizard, and why haven’t I heard of them before?”
I arched an eyebrow at her. “Maybe because you work for the church?” I teased. She gave me a very dry look in response. “Okay. A wizard – if he wanted to make… that book catch fire, for example – would need to find a way to make fire from the elements around him, and then how to fuel that fire for a short period, and then how to send that fire at the target, and then how to make it stick. This is all done very quickly, but he has to take steps.”
Callie nodded.
I waited until she looked at me. “A Maker would simply think burn while looking at the book.” I leaned closer. “And. It. Would. Burn.”
She digested that in silence. “I take it there aren’t any Makers anymore?”
I shrugged. “A handful. Most were hunted down.”
The room was silent for a few moments. “Are you a Maker, Nate?”
I shook my head, deciding not to elaborate on the topic. I wasn’t. Not anymore. I had a brief relationship with the power, but that was now finished, so that was all that mattered. She also didn’t need to know that my ex-fiancée and my ancestor both had Maker abilities.
“So, someone in your bloodline was a Maker. They made this place…” she said softly.
I nodded. “You could say that the power a Maker wields is what makes this house sentient. I’ve heard it referred to as a Beast, and one of those Beasts lives within the very walls of Chateau Falco. In fact, the Beast’s name is Falco.”
She stared up at the ceiling again
, scanning the place in a whole new light. “I see,” she said, her mind far away. I leaned back with a sigh, thinking about Mallory and his quest. About my Beast. How to get Matthias out of his prison. And Hercules. About my failed attempt with the Armory.
“Enough about you, let’s talk about me,” Callie said. I blinked to find her staring at me from only inches away.
I nodded. “Dazzle me.”
“Our powers. They are similar.” I nodded, knowing she was talking about the strange white color our magic sometimes displayed. If I wanted fire, really wanted fire, the fire was white. If I wanted ice, really wanted ice, the ice was white. But it hadn’t always been that way. I was pretty sure my power change was a direct result of getting tangled up with the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
But Callie didn’t know about that. And she wasn’t a Horseman. But she did have some tie to the church, so it was possible that the white power was related to Heaven somehow. Or at least something Biblical.
“I don’t really want to get into details. Not yet. But I wanted you to know I was aware…” she said in a soft voice. “I’d rather figure a few things out on my own, first.” I nodded, and the room grew silent. “About Kansas City…” she began.
I held up a hand. “We’ll talk about that some other time. I’d rather you did a little digging, soul-searching, and learning about your place in the world. I’ll be here to talk whenever you’re ready.” I cut myself off, not wanting to say more.
Her eyes latched onto me as if I had said something incredibly stupid, ignorant, or… incredibly profound. I pretended it was the latter.
Then an idea hit me. “I might need your help in a few days, though,” I said, my mind running with the idea. “Regarding our similar powers, actually.”
She nodded curiously. “Sure. As long as it’s not for anything criminal. Or this war of yours.”
I smiled, shaking my head. “We’ll never even leave Chateau Falco, and we’ll only be touching something that belongs to me.”
Her eyes twinkled in amusement, and too late, I realized how it had sounded. “Right. I’ll take your word for it,” she said drily. I opened my mouth to clarify, but she placed a finger on my lips. “I’m not feeling up to Shadow Walking home right now. Do you care if I stay here for a little longer?”
I blinked. “Um. No. That’s fine.”
“Good. Because I’m a big fan of naps. And I feel a nap coming on. Care to join me?”
I stared back at her. What the hell was this? Was she being literal or using her feminine wiles against me? I nodded at her, unsure what else to say.
“Good. Talk to you soon,” she said. Then she curled up on the pillows, reached back with her hand, grasped mine, and placed it around her waist. “I’m cold,” she murmured. I didn’t fight her, simply rolled with it, and soon found myself spooning with her, feeling like a middle-school-aged boy all over again.
The estrogen was strong with this one.
But something magical happened. I wasn’t sure if it was related to my injuries, or if it was simply her, but as I debated what this all meant, I soon realized that I was dreaming, with Callie tucked in neatly against my chest.
Then again, maybe I wasn’t dreaming at all, because that was exactly what was happening in the waking world. Maybe I was still awake and hyperaware of my situation.
I didn’t question it.
Chapter 14
I woke suddenly, gasping as I sensed something. I lifted my head, stared up, and found Mallory gazing down at me curiously.
I blinked a few times, but he didn’t speak. I was still pressed up against Callie, and she still held my arm over her stomach as if trying to use it as a blanket. Mallory nodded happily, but I scowled up at him. Callie must have sensed his presence because she suddenly woke up. She groaned as she stretched her arms above her head, smiling with her eyes still closed. She opened them to find me staring down at her. She arched a brow and I realized my palm was still resting on her stomach. I jerked it away as if burned, and her smile grew wider.
She turned to Mallory. “Well, I got him to take a rest, I guess.”
Mallory nodded. “Thank you, child. It really is time for us to be leaving, Master Temple. Everyone is waiting.”
I blinked first at Mallory, then at Callie. “Wait. That… you tricked me into taking a nap?” I asked in disbelief. Not angry, just… baffled. I pulled out my phone. “Six hours?!”
Callie shrugged. “Mallory told me you needed rest for something you had planned, especially since you almost burned away your soul earlier,” she added with a stern look. “He knew you would only argue about it, so asked me to help. I really did want to see your house, and knew we would likely pass your room at some point, where I could use my feminine wiles to get you into bed,” she winked suggestively. “But then you took me down here, just the two of us, to your cozy lair, and the rest just kind of fell into place,” she shrugged, watching me. “Don’t be upset.”
I just stared at the two of them, unsure whether to be angry… or feel genuinely appreciative.
Mallory began to laugh, pointing at me. “That face. Priceless.”
I scowled at him. “Well, thanks for being an asshole about looking after me.” He bowed his head as if at a compliment. Then, when Callie wasn’t looking, he jerked his head at her, asking a silent question of me.
I shook my head. “No, not Callie.” I felt her studying me, knowing she had missed something.
“It is time,” Mallory said. “Everyone is waiting by the tree. Dress natural. No iron.” Then he left.
Callie slowly climbed to her feet. “Just when I was getting comfortable. Who knows what could have happened next,” she said offhandedly, and I felt my face flush again. What the hell did that mean? But she was staring up at the books, as if wanting to go explore. Maybe she was alluding to that.
Goddamned Mallory.
I climbed to my feet and stepped up beside Callie, holding out a hand. She took it without looking, squeezed once, and then allowed me to guide her from the room.
“Until next time…” she said sadly to the room.
I wanted to kill Mallory. Just a little.
Chapter 15
We stood beside the giant white tree on my property. Hugin and Munin watched us from the branches and Sir Muffle Paws sat at my feet, scowling at everyone with a level of lazy hatred and disdain that only a cat could manage. Callie had left me after the Sanctorum to go find Tory while I changed. Not knowing what to make of Mallory’s cryptic advice, I had dressed in jeans, boots, a t-shirt that said I don’t believe in Fairies, and a distressed leather jacket I found in the back of my closet – because it was early evening, now, and the temperature was cooling down.
I had also grabbed a few magical items I had been tinkering with for the war – some old, and some new – just in case. With a brief explanation, I had given one to both Tory and Ashley. My coin was now a small wooden disk with a hole in the center, and tied to a leather cord around my neck. I hadn’t wanted to risk carrying a metal coin into the Land of the Fae – because I could have subconsciously included iron in the coin. Who knew? I certainly wasn’t a metalsmith of any kind. I had just thought coin and it had become a coin.
Each of us had received small packs from Dean with a few water canteens and some travel food – jerky, dried fruits, and the like. Things we could eat on the go so we didn’t have to try any Fae takeout food. Because everyone knew Fae food could be lethal, like shady Thai food trucks at an innocent farmer’s market – magically enchanting with their Demoncraft scents, and bright colored vehicles that you couldn’t turn down. But you would still try it, knowing full well that you would be on your knees later, praying to a god you might never have prayed to before, begging for the end, or at least for the pain in your guts to end.
Callie was standing beside Tory, speaking softly out of earshot, and when Tory came back to stand beside Ashley, she looked thoughtful, but didn’t share. Neither of the girls had weapons, preferring their natural
talents, and like me, wore jeans, boots, and a t-shirt.
Gunnar and Alucard scowled at me as if this were all my fault.
Carl grinned from ear to ear, caressing the blades at his hips. Two more rested over his shoulders like an X, and he wore his leather armor that consisted of dozens of straps and buckles. He didn’t seem aware of Alucard and Gunnar’s anger. Or he simply didn’t care. He looked like a kid on his first trip to a zoo to see the elephants.
Callie watched us for a few moments, standing beside Sonya and Aria. She held their hands in support, but I could see the question in her eyes. She didn’t know what was going on. The Reds were trying very hard to look tough, but I could see through it. They were terrified. Of losing another mom.
But I wouldn’t let that happen. I shot them a warm, comforting smile, and some of the tension faded from their faces. Callie nodded appreciatively at me.
I turned to Mallory – who was standing by the tree – and nodded. It was time.
He merely nodded back, not speaking, and then blew a quick tune on a pair of pipes I hadn’t seen in his fist. The world flashed with green fire, and I saw every single person nearby burn to green ashes between one second and the next.
Then their ashes were blown away to the wind.
I gasped, trying to shout, but no sound came out.
Because I was also green ash.
Sir Muffle Paws let out a dark laugh and I heard Carl join in. I don’t know how they were able to make sounds, because I felt like a wandering soul with no physical presence, just awareness.
Then I was solid again.
And Stonehenge stood before us. The Stonehenge. But we hadn’t Shadow Walked.
I heard the girls gasp in surprise, but Sir Muffle Paws and Mallory simply approached the stone columns. And as they did, fiery blue Druidic carvings began to glow from deep within the stone pillars.