Obsidian Son (The Temple Chronicles Book 1) (24 page)

I shook my head. “Not necessary. Yet. But thank you.” I said quickly, very aware of the time ticking down. I asked her a few more questions, and she said she would include it all in the email within the hour. “You might need to expand your search to include myths. Anything might be helpful, even though it may not seem so to you. My… specialty finds useful tidbits where others would not.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. I know your… specialty very, very well.” She purred with a thick Russian accent. My already testosterone-laden body responded, memories of tangled sheets filling my mind. She laughed at my silence. “No need to be prude, Pharos. We shall chat soon. I may have need of your help in the future, but next time our conversation should be closer. I very much wish to witness your
specialty
firsthand once again. Check your email soon.” Then the line went dead, and the software shut down immediately. My computer rebooted of its own accord, running diagnostics that changed my IP address, and a slew of other safety precautions, basically erasing that my computer had even been running for the last twenty minutes. Pretty neat.

I leaned back in my chair, sighing. I hadn’t thought about our bedroom tussles in years, but she had been one of my best. That brought my thoughts back to Indie. Judging from my bath, I assumed she might even be able to top Othello’s skills. Sensing something was out of place on my desk, I scanned its surface, and was shocked to see a satin red thong hanging off my lamp. I flinched, quickly snatching them away as if trying to hide them from any witnesses. I felt a piece of parchment folded around the tiny triangular crotch, and grinned. I unfolded it, reading the hastily scrawled lipstick note. The color matched the thong perfectly.

“
I have read that Warriors were usually dressed by their lovers before battle, but I hope that what I did will suffice. I have also read that Heroes carry a trophy into duels for good luck. So I left you a trinket… Touch for touch, Nate. Your turn next…
”

A grin split my face as I stuffed the thong into my robe pocket. Good luck indeed, and also motivation to get my ass home as quickly and as intact as possible. Maybe I had found a dinner after all. No more dessert-dish women for me. If I survived the next few days.

I dialed a phone number and waited.

“Mallory.” He answered.

“Heya’, Mallory.” I said. “I was hoping you could pass on a message for Dean.” Mallory grunted affirmatively. I made my request, listening to him scribble the note down on a pad of paper. “Repeat the address, if you don’t mind.” I asked at the end.

“I don’t need to repeat the address, Master Temple. We both went there the other night. It should be there within the hour. I believe your father had already paid for this specific item, and I hear it has just recently come out of surgery, so it’s sitting there now. The trick would be how to list it. Only Dean will be able to complete the last request though, since he has Power of Attorney with your estate, and he won’t be happy about having to leave the Chateau.”

“It’s important. I’ll make it up to him.”

Mallory grunted. “It will be done, Master Temple.” Then he simply clicked off.

I nodded, wandering around the room for an appropriate change of clothes for the order of unusual events I would be facing tonight. I knew I would be back to meet with Peter this evening, so I could grab the last change of clothes then. If I was still in one piece after the Minotaur.

I realized I was thumbing the thong in my pocket and grinned to myself. They were still warm. Very warm.

Chapter 25

D
ressed, and prepared for battle in my Hugo Boss suit, I picked up my phone and dialed the number Officer Marlin had left me. She answered on the second ring. “Officer Marlin.”

“Master Temple.” I quipped, following her terse response. She chuckled.

“You mean, Archangel, I’m sure. One should hear the scuttlebutt around the water cooler after the event at the bridge.”

“I think I’ll stick with Master Temple. It’s catchier.”

“Still, Archangel has a nice ring to it.”

I made a disgusted sound. “You ready to entertain a less than deserving gentleman caller at an expo this evening?”

“Your… gift made my choices much easier than I was accustomed to. I found something rather flashy. I hope it won’t be too much.”

“No one would dare complain that a flower blooms.”

I heard a surprised, but definitely pleased, intake of breath. “Well,
that
wasn’t what I was fishing for, but thank you. How many times have you used that line?”

“Alas, just this once, but if you vouch for its effect, I might keep it up my sleeve.”

“It’s definitely a keeper.”

“Noted. I shall pick you up in an hour or so. Is that enough time?”

“More than enough. I’ve already been preparing, just in case.”

“I’m sure you didn’t have much difficulty. You were already more than halfway there when we met.”

She sighed on the other end of the line. “From a near death experience to a ball. Young girls imagine stories about this sort of thing.”

“But they imagine those stories with a gentleman or a prince. I am neither.”

“Debatable.” She answered with a demure chuckle.

“Gunnar has your address, so we’ll see you then.” I hung up.

My phone chirped back at me almost as soon as I set it down on my desk, Richard Wagner’s
Ride of the Valkyries
blaring loudly. I let it play for a few seconds, enjoying the jingle, than answered. It was Gunnar. “Nate. There is a man outside my office adamantly waving car keys at me, declaring that I left them at a restaurant that I have never visited before. Do you have any idea why he’s here?” I suppressed a grin.

“Not the foggiest.” I paused. “Why don’t you do one of your FBI things, like running the plates to see who the keys really belong to?”

“We’re not supposed to use government resources for personal reasons.” He answered, very textbook.

“Someone out there is looking for their keys, and someone happens to bring them to your attention, and you are not going to try to discover who they belong to?” I argued derisively. “And you wonder why bureaucracy doesn’t work, why citizens are so concerned.”

“Fine.” I heard him fiddle with his keyboard, rapidly typing in commands. His voice was distant, speaking to someone else in the room. “License plate number.” A shuffling of paper and then utter silence. “You’re kidding me.” He said in disbelief, voice full of disapproval to the agent in his office. I managed to tap the
mute
button on my phone before I burst out laughing into Gunnar’s earpiece. A muffled argument took place as the agent vehemently defended his information. “Fine.
Fenrir
it is then.” Gunnar snapped. I heard more keys tapping and then another deathly silence. It stretched on for a full minute. Then longer.

“Did you mean to hang up on me, Gunnar? You haven’t spoken for a while.” I said neutrally.

“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.” He growled.

“I take it you found the owner?” I asked.

I heard him dismiss the agent before speaking to me. “The report declares that a certain Gunnar Randulf and Nathin Temple have owned this 2012 Land Rover Defender Hard Top for the last three months. Funny, because I don’t remember ever using my home as collateral for a…” I heard a few more clicks. “$80,000 SUV.”

“I remember you having it, but you sent it off to Vilnar for customization, which added on close to $100,000 if I remember correctly.”

“Hmmm… It’s not as expensive as the Aston Martin.” He said disappointed.

“You destroyed the Aston Martin in less than 12 hours. This thing has bulletproof glass, and all sorts of other additions that would make it practically impossible to total. Unless you wanted to play chicken with an armored truck heading out of Fort Knox. That might be a different story. Then again, with as much as was spent on this guy, the armored truck might just die in shame.”

“Nate, this is definitely crossing the line.”

I argued back, ready. “It’s registered to me with you as a co-owner. Should be fine. Just take the keys. Public transportation would cramp our style tonight.”

“I will be fired for this. You ready for your chauffeur?” He asked, resigned.

“If you please.”

“I don’t.”

“Then I’m afraid I must insist.”

“Twenty minutes then, asshole.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

He hissed. “You do realize that this call is probably being recorded, right?”

“Of course. My company provided the tech, pro bono. See you soon.”

He sighed on the other line. “Nate?”

“Yes.” I answered carefully.

“Thanks.” It sounded like he had been tortured into saying that single word.

“Men don’t say ‘thanks.’ That’s gushy girl talk. Just drive the shit out of it when necessary. It’s really just an insurance policy for our survival. The way you drive anyway.” I knew I was supposed to be staying out of the investigation into my parents’ murder, as Turner Locke had informed me, but I couldn’t just leave this on Gunnar’s shoulders. It was my responsibility too, and I knew shit would hit the fan soon, and he would need my help.

“Asshole.” He muttered. “By the way, I’ve tried calling your dragon hunter a few times, but he hasn’t answered. I also can’t find a speck of dirt on him, let alone any hard facts. Think it’s an alias? Have you heard anything?”

I began to speak when my phone beeped. I looked down. “Huh. Speak of the devil. I think that’s him on the other line. Be here in twenty and I’ll tell you what I find out.” He grunted and I clicked over.

“The very magnificent Master Temple at your service. How can I assist you, you wicked dragon hunter, you?”

He growled back. “We haven’t had much luck hunting any dragons, where it seems you’ve been doing nothing but that.” He didn’t sound pleased.

“Need me to train you on my extensive skills? So far I count two, possibly three dead at my hand.” I fudged the number a bit, because technically, Peter had killed Raven, but Tomas didn’t need to know that. “And I haven’t even been
trying
.”

“Your survival skills are rather impressive, but I seem to remember a net launcher saving the city of St. Louis from having a wizard shaped smear on her sidewalk yesterday.” He said suggestively.

“So it wasn’t Spiderman. Damn.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Listen, I’m kind of busy. Need the lesson or not?”

He grunted. “We’re fine. But it seems they really have a hard-on for you. If we had simply been following you around, our job could have been over by now.”

“You mean your contract would be finished.”

He was silent for a minute. “Perhaps.”

“Who hired you? Because I’m sure that would give us one of those clue things that seem to help one understand complicated situations.”

“Not important.” He answered immediately.

“Okay, fine. Does the eclipse have any significance to you?”

A longer silence. “Perhaps. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know if it is related, but shortly after we had our pleasant introduction, I found a note my father had left me, warning me of the eclipse.”

“How cute. Your father left you a napkin note, and you think it’s relevant. Typical-”

“It was written in his own blood…”

I felt him stiffen through the phone. “I apologize. I know what it’s like to have a family like yours, and to suddenly lose the patriarch. My family is very old, tracing our lineage back to the crusades.”

“Uh-huh.” I answered, not hiding my boredom. My laptop chimed behind me.

“You don’t sound surprised…”

“Hold on a minute, if you would be so kind.” I answered, clicking the email open on my laptop. After a long password, I opened the encrypted file from Othello, and read quickly, catching the highlights. “Tomas Mullingsworth … Ex RN. I thought you said you were from Brooklyn?” I added curiously. Silence answered me. “Served in Afghanistan. Much redacting, but wait…” I made the false sounds of heavy typing and then came back. “Questionable operations: Three. Drunken bouts with superior officers: seven.” I paused. “Really? That’s quite impress-”

His voice was full of rage. “How dare you? That is personal information.”

I let the silence build, his furious huffing the only sound between us. “My
life
is quite personal to
me
. And when it has been close to taken a handful of times in a span of days shortly after meeting with your targets, I decided it wise to learn more about all the players involved. Was I wrong? Would you have done any different?”

The silence built, and then he let out a breath. “You are a very dangerous man, Master Temple. I see why some have declared this city ‘Poach-free.’ Your research seems quite extensive. No one has ever been able to redact that information, let alone find it. I made sure it was buried. Deep.”

“Never deep enough for me, Tomas, and you should remember that. This is my being polite.”

“Good to know. Now, what do you want?”

“The eclipse. Ring any bells?”

“Not directly, but I have heard stories. Legends, really. Some dark ritual the dragons have been searching for. But they have never found what they need to perform it. I don’t know exactly what they need, what they seem to be missing.”