Grimm: A Novel In The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 3) (2 page)

My stomach made a little flip-flop motion at the thought. I shot her a discreet glance, but she was too busy fidgeting with her gear to notice. She was so god damned beautiful that I found myself simply staring at her at times. Like now. Her long golden hair fell past her shoulders to frame her perfectly shaped curvaceous upper body, but tonight it was tied up in a pony tail and sticking out the back of a Chicago Cubs baseball cap.

The St. Louis Cardinal in me growled territorially at that.

She was about my height, a hair under six-feet tall, with legs for days, and curves that most men would drool over. Her face was narrow with a thin nose and icy blue eyes like sun-kissed sapphires. I averted my eyes as she glanced up, seeming to notice my attention.

I pretended to scout our path as I mentally ran over my proposal plan. I had made reservations at
Vin de Set
, her favorite French restaurant. Two days from now. I had cleverly used the excuse that we were past due for our regular date night where we usually ‘recalibrated’ our relationship. We typically did this once or twice per month, but so far it had stretched into month two now without either of us bringing it up.

It might or might not have started as a result of Othello’s visit to town a few months back when Indie had been out of town caring for her injured mother. Injured because of my enemies, we later found out. Either way, several events from that visit had created a bit of friction between us. Not because I had been unfaithful – not by
choice
, anyway – but because Othello had openly admitted her ongoing infatuation with me. One that she had secretly harbored since our brief romantic relationship in college several years back.

She had admitted this to Indie. In front of me. Without giving me any warning at all.

Which had required some deft maneuvering on my part, let me tell you.

The two were amicable now, but boy oh boy had it been interesting for a time.

My thoughts drifted back to my dinner plans as Gunnar began sniffing down one of the halls, hoping to catch a whiff of fanger, AKA
eau de corpse
. Vampire. Indie was still fidgeting with her gear.

Before the dinner proposal, I wanted to see how she handled tonight, because, well, this was my
life
.

Hunting.

At least a big
part
of my life. And even though she had told me before that she could handle it, I needed to
know
that she could. There’s a difference, folks. The proposal details were all set. The venue picked. Dinner dishes and wine already ordered. Her favorite dessert, strawberry shortcake, ordered from a local bakery.

Everything was set.

Well,
almost
everything… Which led me back to my
third
reason for jumping on tonight’s opportunity.

Indie readjusted the contraption dominating her cranium, tightening one of the straps so that the headlamp mounted on top didn’t jiggle around so much with each movement. Despite me being chock full of power, able to cast a ball of light to float beside us and illuminate the darkness, and Gunnar’s near night vision thanks to his werewolf genes, a girl needed to accessorize to feel complete in this world. Practicality and logic be damned. And no man would ever get in the way of accessorizing.

Ever.

Indie looked grim at the unexplained dangers of tonight’s extermination – seeing as how I hadn’t yet explained it to either of them in depth – but was also conflictingly excited to be included in the boys club. Even if she was completely mundane – as without magic as a boiled egg – it really didn’t seem to bother her. Where Gunnar and I were at the opposite end of the spectrum. Dare I say that Gunnar and I were legen-

Wait for it…

Dary.

Indie and I had been binge-watching
How I Met Your Mother
lately. So sue me.

I smiled to myself, which only made Gunnar’s eyes tighten, as if it confirmed his sneaking suspicion that I was as mad as a hatter.

“We’re all mad here.” I whispered softly.

“What?” Indie asked, having successfully completed readjusting her straps.

I mumbled nothing in particular, putting my head back in the game. “Alright, gang. We’re hunting an Alucard named Dracula.” I answered distractedly, turning my ears towards the two tunnels that branched off ahead of us. One of them led to our target. The other led to more smelly things and my third reason for entering the sewers tonight.

“Are you drunk?” Gunnar asked very seriously. Indie blinked, having not been around me for the past few hours and realizing that it could very possibly be a valid question.

“What? No. I’m not… I had one drink with Achilles, but…”

“You just keep staring off into the distance as if distracted. And you’re not making any sense. It’s… unsettling.” He folded his arms.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Few other things on my mind.”

He waited. And I realized what else was bothering him as I replayed our conversation in my head. “Oh. I see what you’re getting at. I meant to say
a Dracula named Alucard
.” They stared at me, still not getting it. I rolled my eyes at Gunnar. “A vampire. The name
Alucard
is
Dracula
spelled backwards, you uneducated mutt,” I turned to Indie, “And beautiful, intelligent lady.”

Indie rolled her eyes. The silence grew before Gunnar finally let out a soft chuckle. “He seriously named himself
Alucard
? Does he have any idea how pretentious that is, or is it really his name?” He grinned hungrily. “I think I should ask him.” He added, flexing his muscles. Or maybe he
hadn’t
flexed. Regardless, his coat stretched along the seams of his arms and shoulders with a slight creaking sound.

“You’re right. We should ask him. Word from Achilles is that he’s kidnapped some girls. One of them was his. A bartender. I’m here to see if it’s true. You two are here as witnesses. Especially you, Indie. No heroics. I’m serious. If he really is a vampire, stand back. Gunnar and I will handle it.” She nodded her agreement, breath quickening slightly.

I consulted the mental map Achilles had shown me and took a left.

My posse followed me.

Which was good. Posses are supposed to do that sort of thing. It messed up the cool factor when they didn’t.

We continued on for fifteen minutes or so until I began to hear faint whimpers coming from what sounded like only a dozen feet away. Still, with echoes it could be a mile. Gunnar took a big whiff of the air and nodded at me one time, looking suddenly relieved. Apparently his sniffer was back on track. Or the vampire’s apparent concealment spell didn’t work this close up.

“Not far now. A few hundred feet at most.” He whispered. “Won’t they be able to sense us?”

I shook my head, mentally checking our map. “No. I masked our scent.” There were two bends before any kind of opening that could house what might be used as a living quarters.

I rolled my shoulders and patted my hip reassuringly.

Magic was suave and all, but I hadn’t really mastered my new abilities yet. A few months back during
Mardi Gras
when my friends had been out of town, Othello and I had had a run in with Heaven. And Hell. And my previous governing institution, the Academy – which ruled and dictated the laws of the wizard nation. They had thought I was working for the demons. Heaven thought so too. I hadn’t been, of course. But everyone and their mother wanted to get their grubby hands on the secret project my father had gifted to me prior to his death. An Armory of the deadliest supernatural weapons in recorded history.

During the struggle, my own people had taken away my magic, permanently, but my father had given me something else alongside the Armory. A new, strange power that had historically been placed higher on the food chain than even a wizard’s magic. To be honest, even months later I was still struggling to wrap my head around it.

So, having not mastered my new abilities as a Maker, I liked to be reassured by the hundred pound gun at my hip. Not really a hundred pounds, but the SIG Sauer X-Five Gunnar had given me a while back was definitely reassuring, and right now it really did feel like a hundred pounds of confidence.

“Alright, gang. It’s now or never.”

I lifted my foot to take a step, and a silver ball of light – I somehow had the presence of mind to notice that it resembled a stunningly attractive, anatomically correct, naked
Barbie
doll – struck me in the dome, knocking me clear on my ass and into a puddle of nastiness. I quickly scrambled to my feet, shivering, ready to obliterate the creature. She hovered where my head had been, staring directly at me. It
was
a naked Barbie.

And I recognized her.

“She looks familiar…” Gunnar murmured to Indie, who was staring wild-eyed at the silver sprite.

“What
is
she? She’s beautiful.” Indie said bluntly, cocking her head sideways as she assessed the creature.

“A sprite. A fairy. A very dangerous fairy. Looks can be deceiving,” I warned, shaking off the cold sewage from my coat.

The sprite smiled in approval at the warning, flashing needle-like teeth at Indie, who flinched back a step. “He’s back, and he’s coming to murder you and all your friends.” The glowing sprite hissed darkly to me. “It’s time.”

Like I said, a lot can happen between
now
and
never
.

Chapter 2

I
shook my coat off again with a growl, trying to detach at least the larger pieces of filth. Wet splashes marked my successes, adding to the fragrant stench filling my nose.

“Right before you suckerpunched me into that pile of defecation, we had been stealthily approaching the vermin in order to exterminate him. So
shoo
, Barbie.” I growled darkly. I didn’t know what name she went by in casual circles, but I knew her True Name, the one able to compel her to obey if used three times in conjunction, which I was very tempted to use at the moment just to make a point. But I didn’t. So in my mind she was now
Barbie
, whereas before I had called her Nympho Sprite.

Nympho
for nymphomaniac. Emphasis on
maniac
. I had met her once before when running into her on an impromptu case that led to me opening my arcane bookstore, Plato’s Cave – currently still under renovation from the gentle affections of a brawl involving a demon, an angel, and a Nephilim during
Mardi Gras
a few months back. This little light of mine had a thing for helping wizards in exchange for… well…
sexual favors
.

Look, I know, she looked all of twelve inches tall right
now
. But it’s not as weird as it sounds. She could become
bigger
when she wanted to by shape shifting to match her summoner’s size. She had even hinted that she could shape shift into other
creatures
, so being a werewolf for example wasn’t an impediment to her,
erm
, bargaining price. I had also gotten the distinct impression that many didn’t survive her affections, and that didn’t seem to bother her in the least. If anything, it
pleased
her.

Creepy.

“Bah,” she waved a hand at my comment. “Not the vampires, wiz-” She hesitated, eyes widening with sudden confusion. She stared at me more closely, assessing me on a deeper level than the mortal eye could, as if calculating a new equation in her mind. She must have realized I was no longer a wizard, but I didn’t know how. She continued on a few seconds later, shelving the topic of my abilities, and returning to her initial purpose. “Interesting development.” She murmured to herself before continuing. “The Grimm. Jacob is back. And he brought his brothers. To kill you and all your friends. I warned you of this when we first met.”

An icy fist seemed to suddenly clench my vertebrae. Indie gasped.

The Brothers Grimm. They were back. For me. And my friends. Because I had taken their book from them a few years ago, and rather than destroying it like the sprite had advised, I had hoarded it away. And now I was going to pay for it.

As were my friends, apparently.

“I
knew
I recognized her. She used to work for Alistair. The book guy.” Gunnar hissed. “Remember, Nate? Back in the old days.” He looked at me.

She turned suddenly arctic eyes onto the wolf. “If you ever refer to him again as
the book guy
I will feast on your sclera.” She licked her lips eagerly.

“No offense.” He offered genuinely, taking a step back as he held up his hands to idly touch his eyes, which she had casually mentioned eating.

“Too late, wolf pup.” She bared needle like fangs in a hungry snarl.

Indie chimed in before the sprite could do anything. “Did you say vampires? As in,
plural
?” Gunnar and I froze, turning to the sprite.

She merely stared back, shaking her head in disbelief at our obviously limited mental capacity. “Good thing you brought the Regular along. She actually has a brain.”