Blood Debts (The Temple Chronicles Book 2) (21 page)

Jesus. Had the Angel caused the war by coming to talk to me? I sensed the air with my powers, knowing that it didn’t actually use any of my magic to do so. Everything felt more or less the same. It didn’t feel Armageddon-y. I shook my head. Regardless, I needed to find out how Angels were
supposed
to interact on earth, which was most likely the Nephilim, lest I be surprised by a third party in the next few days. I couldn’t afford a surprise attack. And I really didn’t know how I felt about killing a soldier from Heaven. Even though the only Angel I had met had been kind of a dick, he was just doing his job. He saw me as a threat for some reason. Still, I thought there might have been a better way for him to handle it. Like with a group prayer or something. I sighed in frustration. So far, I had managed to piss off an Angel, two Demons, three cops, a gaggle of Nephilim, and several Academy members, who had each given me contradictory demands. Abiding by one set of commands made me
persona non grata
for the other groups. Catch-22 to the third power. Even worse, I had limited power to fix the situation, and no friends to help me out. I felt my anger growing as I tried to think about what I could do.

Then the lights in the room abruptly winked out.

I scanned the darkness as I lurched to my feet, fearing another Demon was about to appear and jump me. I found my way to the bars and tried to peer outside my cell. I was pretty sure that the power to the entire building had just gone out. Emergency lights flickered to life, bathing me in a faint red glow. I began to get real nervous as I heard feet pounding down the stairs. I backed up slowly, ready to unleash hell. I had no idea who was here, but I had no doubt they were coming for me, and the only people coming for me were the biggest of the big hitters. Angels. Demons. Academy Justices. If I was lucky, they might create a joint task force to take me out together, like a dark Justice League. My thoughts ran with that as I heard a door finally open and the footsteps quickly approach my cell.

I raised my hands, ready to vaporize the intruder. I spotted my foe across the room, slowly creeping closer and closer as if on all fours. A green glow emanated at its hip, which made me think of hell. Then a
face
from hell materialized as it crept closer. Horns, and war paint covering the upper half of its head. Then it sparkled in the green glow. I blinked. Glitter? Bedazzled Demons?

“Pharos?” I heard a familiar voice call out quietly.

My fear was instantly replaced by confusion and hope. I raced back to the bars. “Othello?” I hissed in disbelief.

“The one and only.” She smiled, stepping up the bars to touch my fingers. Pretty girls make graves, and Othello was breathtaking. Shorter than some, but stacked more than most, she sported a thick, wavy pony tail, and she had a small oval shaped face, with plump cheeks just perfect for squeezing. I saw that she was wearing a
Le Carnevale
mask for
Mardi Gras
. “Like my disguise? I have one for you also.” She cooed.

“What are you
doing
here?”

“You didn’t answer your phone.” I blinked. “I guess you could call me clingy.” She winked. I scowled back, shaking my head at her grin. “When you didn’t answer your phone, I traced the embedded GPS and saw, to my surprise, your phone was here in this government building. Of course, I decided a face-to-face was necessary upon this news. Nobody takes my Pharos. Especially the government.”

I smiled. Othello hated the government. Any of them. That was why she was one of the world’s most renowned cyber criminals. And they didn’t even know who she really was. She was good. For her to risk breaking into a federal building to save me had put her at great risk, and showed me how much she cared for me. Even after all this time. I wasn’t quite sure how she spent her time outside of cyber stuff, but I had reason to believe that it wasn’t
all
computer stuff. She had made several hints about having unsavory contacts in her debt.

Her glow stick illuminated my cell, and the carnage that was the Demon-shaped bench and the blood all over the floor. “Why is there… blood on the floor? Did they hurt you?” She looked murderous.

“I had a visitor. From my side of the park.” I added, emphasizing that it hadn’t been a human. “She wouldn’t leave when I asked her to.” Othello finally nodded after a moment.

“Stand back.” She commanded as she began fidgeting with key points on the barred door. I complied, wondering how the hell she was here, what the hell she was doing, and how the hell we were going to get out. This was the freaking police station. For St. Louis. Not really a Barney Fife type operation with a single cop napping outside. These police had military grade weapons and a SWAT team for crying out loud. It seemed I was going to need to tap into my magic pretty soon.

I was kind of pissed about this. Here I was, about to be broken out of jail, which would only put me further in the crosshairs of the police. When it was very likely they were going to release me tomorrow.

“Othello,” I warned. “This is crazy. They are going to release me tomorrow. I don’t have time to add
America’s Most Wanted
to my resume. Just wait. I’ll come to you as soon as they release me and we can talk then. Go. Please. They will be here any second.”

She halted, looking up at me curiously. “No, they won’t.” She replied coldly.

My skin pebbled at that. She said it with such finality, as if there was no way the cops were going to come down here. As if… they were no longer a danger. At all. Ever again.

“Othello… what do you mean? What did you do to them? They were only doing their jobs.”

She blinked at me then laughed. “I didn’t kill them. Jesus, Nate. They’re
cops
. I called in a threat to empty the majority of the precinct.” Her voice jumped an octave, sounding terrified as she mimicked a phone call. “Oh my gawd! There’s a bomb at Queenies, the gay bar downtown. They’re threatening to blow the place up to cleanse the way for God’s Children! I heard them say they would only surrender to a man named Kosage. I just came out here to dance, and now everyone’s running and screaming! I already see a news crew setting up a block away! I have to go!” Her malicious grin turned to me proudly.

“You’re telling me that you set up a bomb at a gay club to bust me out of jail. I assume it’s not going to explode in a shower of glitter and rainbows? You could hurt people!” I needed to get her out of here.

“There’s no bomb, Nate. Although that glitter idea would have been great. When the cops get there, they are going to see a poster-sized picture of your friend Kosage on a float wearing a pink unitard, with the song ‘I’m coming out, I want the world to know…’ blaring on three sets of independently wired speakers. I informed the patrons at the bar that a famous detective would be arriving tonight to come out of the closet and to support the gay community in St. Louis for
Mardi Gras
. His fellow officers were gathering to support him, with flashing lights for a celebration. The news was also in on it, so they needn’t be alarmed.” I blinked at her, my mouth opening wordlessly several times, and then I burst out laughing. “The float is titled
Napolean comes Out
.” She continued softly. Apparently, Othello had been working on this for some time. There was no way she could have arranged this since my call to her earlier this afternoon.

“This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, was it? How did you Photoshop a picture of Kosage in a unitard, and… why?” I asked in genuine amazement.

She began to laugh, doubling over as she placed the last gadget on the cell door. “That’s the best part.” She enunciated the next words concisely. “
It
.
Wasn’t
.
Photoshop
. I had intended to use the picture and float at the Parade, but with what he did to you, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. It serves him right.

“I used sleeping canisters to knock out the rest of the officers upstairs so me and my team could bust in. I didn’t
kill
anyone, Nate. But they are not planning to release you tomorrow. I hacked into their phones. You weren’t going anywhere. That’s why I’m here. To bust you out. Something big is going down in St. Louis. And I think it has to do with your investigation into your parents’ murder.” She watched my face. “Later. Now I need to get you out of here. Step back. I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen when I push this button.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t-”

She pressed something and the metal at the door disintegrated in seconds, amidst a whining, grinding, and electrical sound like a thousand termites in fast-forward. It stopped after two seconds. The door let out a final groan before it fell into my cell with a resounding crash, barely missing my toes.

“Wow.” She said in surprise.

I blinked in amazement, but hadn’t sensed any magic, didn’t smell any chemicals, and it had not been an explosive. I stepped closer to her, staying on my side of the door, careful not to touch the gate that had fallen into the cell. “What was that?”

“Nanobots.” She grinned at the look on my face. “Put this on.” She handed me a
Le Carnevale
mask and a flannel shirt. I put them on. She adjusted it so that it was crooked, as if forced on me. “Good. I already grabbed your stuff from lockup, since the things you carry are usually dangerous to the uninitiated Regular. Now come on.” She grabbed my hand. Her fingers were feverish with excitement as we rushed out of the holding area and hesitated at the door. She peered through the window. I could see several bodies slumbering on the floor, and several spent canisters lying here and there like discarded beer cans at a party. She nodded to herself, rearranging my mask again slightly. “Okay. I need you to follow me. Act like you’re being kidnapped and that you’re drugged from the gas. That way they can’t suspect you in what happened, and what happens next.” She grinned at that. “Don’t speak in case the building is wired. Just follow me like a victim.”

I began to protest when she suddenly kicked the door open and jerked me forward. I stumbled, playing the part she had requested, but inside I was fuming. What did she have planned that was any worse than what she had already done? The mask scratched at my face, and ruined my peripheral vision, but I continued on, following her lead obediently, sluggishly.

Instead of heading for the front doors or even a back door, we headed into the office area for the detectives. This couldn’t be good.

Othello reached into her backpack and tossed an official looking folder on a nearby table.

She tossed another, different looking folder on a separate desk, then she jabbed me in the stomach, pulling her punch at the last second. I had tensed up for the hit in surprise, but quickly realized she was acting for the camera in the corner ceiling. She was good. I doubled over before allowing her to yank me the opposite direction. I followed on her heels, shuffling my feet as she led me out to a back alley where I discovered a limo idling for us.

“Here’s our ride. Let’s go.” I followed her into the backseat and slammed into the leather as the driver floored the gas. With that, we were roaring through the city. Othello tore off her mask and hooted out the open sunroof.

I looked at her in amazement. “Wow. You’re kind of awesome.” I said after a few moments. She grinned back, grabbing my hand. “You have no idea.”

She continued to hold my hand for longer than necessary. I politely pulled my hand away, using the excuse to take off my mask.

She hissed. “Your face!”

I grumbled. “Not exactly one for bedside manner, are you.” I scowled. She smiled guiltily, shaking her head. “What exactly did you put on that desk?” I could see a calculating look in her eyes at both my black eyes and the fact that I hadn’t resumed our handholding. But now wasn’t the time to tell her about Indie.
Hey, thanks for risking your life to bust me out of jail, but I’ve got this kick-ass girlfriend. You two should meet. Maybe go shopping or something! It would be so much fun!

Yeah, right.

Her smile came back in an instant. “More pictures of our friend, Kosage.”

“What kind of pictures?” I asked carefully.

“BDSM.” She caught my gaze. “Again, not Photoshopped.”

I blinked at her. Then I hooted out the sunroof as well, finally laughing deeply. Despite what happened next, Kosage’s life had just gotten a whole lot shittier. Thanks to my little friend, Othello, cyber-criminal extraordinaire.

Life was good.

“I also included some photos of Kosage involved in some questionable extracurricular activities.” I shook my head, grinning.

“Oh?”

Her eyes twinkled. “I didn’t like how he treated you a few months back so I made a file for him. Currently, he’s known to frequent Craigslist for Dominiatrixes. The file has some pictures of him in some compromising gear. Pink gear. He will shortly be on the news for an altogether different reason.” She didn’t elaborate, but I could hardly wait. “I don’t like people causing my Pharos trouble.”

“Who’s driving us?” The divider was up, so I couldn’t tell.

“Someone who owed me a favor. He repaid it with the extraction and the sleeping canisters. I think I about used up all my favors with this job. He’s taking us to a safe-house since I assumed yours was not usable anymore.” She leaned forward eagerly, squeezing my hand. “The other file I left was a ransom note for one Nathin Temple, by the way. Perfect cover for you. You can’t be suspected in your own kidnapping!” She looked triumphant.

I shook my head, smiling at her. Oh well, I was technically broke now, so I could use the money. If anyone paid. It wasn’t like I could pay my own ransom. I mean, all my funds were frozen. Things were getting interesting. But she was right. At least I had managed to escape without being an accomplice. “I guess we are about to find out how much the city likes me.”

Othello grinned. “They can’t afford you. I set it at One Hundred Million.”

“Oh, well…” At least I was free for now. I would just have to make sure that the FBI didn’t spot me in the next few days. Maybe I could call Jeffries to help me out. I didn’t want to ruin his career though, so I would only do so as a last resort. I knew if I spoke with Jeffries, whether I told him the truth or not, he would know. It was his gift. He could sense lies. Talking to him at all would basically get him involved on a level that could ruin his career. I couldn’t do that to a friend. Like I had with Gunnar.