Blood Debts (The Temple Chronicles Book 2) (50 page)

Indie’s eyes were fire. “What about while I was in the hospital with my mother?” I blinked, and then Othello burst out laughing. I felt an icy shiver down my spine. Did she know about our makeout session? Me being a dirty cheater? I had completely forgotten about it, thinking I had been about to die.

Priorities.

“Um… what?” I answered politically instead.

“Don’t you
what
me, Nathin Laurent Temple! She answered the phone when I called, and led me to believe…” She rounded on Othello.

Othello finally stopped laughing and held out a hand. “Relax. I swear. I don’t poach. He wouldn’t stop talking about you and it made me… jealous. But I understand now. What we had was in the past… where it will stay. He loves
you
. Not
me
. In fact, it was quite disgusting to be around him, what with all the
Indie this,
and
Indie that
commentary. I acted like an adolescent schoolgirl. And for that I apologize.” Indie’s metaphorical territorial fur flattened a bit at that.

Bros.

Othello was a true
Bro
.

I would have held up a fist, allowing the glorious bro-light of the bro-universe to imbue my arm with a bro-ish salute if I hadn’t already been in enough hot water. But I knew Othello understood my glance and everything it entailed.

But then she ruined it. She began to babble on unnecessarily.

“Everything I told you on the phone was true. We were tired. We had just survived a big fight with things way out of
my
league. A Greater Demon. Girl Scouts. A pack of Werewolves. The Academy. We were sleeping in the same bed. I kept him safe while he was injured. That’s all. I swear. I owe him my life. Literally. You wouldn’t believe what he did while you were all gone. It was beyond impressive. Even to the Ange-” I interrupted quickly. This was getting out of control.

“Wait,
you
called? I thought that was Gunnar!” I practically shouted to overcome Othello’s diarrhea of the mouth.

Gunnar shook his head and Indie nodded. Othello blushed, admitting her white lie from when I had caught her answering my phone that night. Right before she had hidden my phone under the covers. My face began to heat up at that memory, but luckily no one saw it. Indie spoke up. “And what about the FBI, or that…
Demon
? You said you were going to work on your communication!”

Gunnar cleared his throat, approaching my casket as he held up a clawed hand. “I think we should give him a minute. Maybe he can tell us from the beginning.” I nodded gratefully, staring at his claw pointedly. He smiled slightly, allowing it to shift back to normal. He still looked wary, as if not sure exactly what to make of all of this. After all, I had risen from the dead. Gunnar then literally lifted me out of the casket and set me on my feet. After stumbling on weak legs, he supported me over to a group of couches in a nearby alcove. Where a toasty fire was roaring. I fell down into the couch. Indie jealously, and very obviously, sat as close to me as possible. Othello sat in a chair in front of me, understanding Indie’s territorial claim.

“It all began when a roaring drunk wizard,” I pointed a thumb at my chest, “An Angel, and a Horseman of the Apocalypse walked into a bar…”

Their eyes widened and their jaws dropped further with each word, shaking their heads in disbelief and amazement as Othello backed up and clarified several points. Her version seemed to paint me as much more of a badass than my version did. Not how I saw it. I had been running from fire to fire with a leaky water bucket, trying to put out a raging inferno as someone else poured gasoline onto the flames.

I told them about the Academy stealing my powers, my parole officer, Gavin, working as a double agent and setting all my friends up to leave town. That elicited a dark growl from Gunnar, which was gently calmed by Ashley placing a soft hand on his knee. I told them how Gavin had even hurt Indie’s mom when she wouldn’t break up with me. Indie stiffened at that, a single tear spilling down her cheeks as she realized just how close to death her mother had been. I explained the source of my night terrors. The FBI arresting me. Othello busting me out. Gunnar grunted at that. Death, the Angels, the Demons, and of course, the Werewolves. Gunnar seemed particularly amused at mention of the wolves. Tory nodded with a grin, “He wasn’t that tough. I slapped the shit out of him in the bar. Not even a challenge.”

“I’d like to meet him.” Gunnar said with a distant, menacing grin.

Indie was clutching my hand. “You make it sound so nonchalant, while Othello paints it as the scariest few days of her life.”

A new, familiar voice spoke up from behind the couch. “Nate is too humble. He literally battled agents of Heaven and Hell after his own people stole his magic and tried to extort him to give up the Armory. And he
still
won. He’s earned quite a reputation.”

Gunnar had jumped to his feet at the first word of the intruder, claws shifting entirely, and the threads on his clothes popping and snapping as his body began to mutate into partial wolf form. Everyone was glaring with murderous intent at the creature behind me. Misha sported red dragon claws and a hungry, eager smile. I held up a hand to calm everyone down, but was secretly proud of my friends. I didn’t turn to look at him, speaking over my shoulder instead. “Shut up, Death. You’re going to make me blush. Everyone, meet Death — the Horseman of the Apocalypse. A recent drinking buddy of mine, and general bad influence.”

I then turned slowly, gently applying pressure to Indie’s hand in reassurance. She looked terrified. Everyone seemed to calm down a few notches as Death politely approached our gathering. “Don’t worry. He’s not on my list. His death was a ruse. Othello and I had to make it look legitimate.” He waved a hand at our surroundings. Othello nodded guiltily, blushing slightly as Death smiled at her.

Hmm…
That
wasn’t weird.

“My apologies for the discomfort this may have caused anyone.” Indie grunted at the understatement. “This is merely a courtesy call. Checking up on my patient… and new friend.” Death added the last with almost a questioning tone. I nodded, giving him a respectful nod.

The tension in the room slowly dissipated. But no one spoke, as if fearing what he or she was supposed to say or not say to such a feared legend. Death, with all the charm I had first seen in him from the guy at the bar, soothed everyone’s concerns. Individually. He moved like a wraith from person to person, murmuring a private word or two to each of my friends. I don’t know what was said, but he left each person as white as a ghost, yet also smiling at something only they knew. It was as if he had told them something that eased a hidden dam of emotions they had bottled up for years. As if he had given them peace of mind. The skin on my arms shivered as he approached Indie. She was close enough that I could hear. He also spent longer at her side than any of my other friends.

“As soon as I heard about Gavin’s attack I rushed to your mother’s side in the hospital in Colorado. She had been attacked by a Demon that he had sent. After seeing to her immediate safety, I decided that I needed to meet Nate, here. To judge his worth. To see what kind of enemy would push Gavin to cross such a line as attacking a peaceful, defenseless old woman. So I went to the bar, Achilles Heel. I learned of his night terrors. His parents’ murder. His bravery against the dragons. And much more that I’m sure he didn’t realize he had shared. I have the gift of being able to draw out life stories from people. Then I was awed as I watched him stand up to a very,
very
powerful bully. All because he found it necessary to find justice for his parents’ murder. To fulfill a Blood Debt. He was a pillar of… righteousness, despite standing against a creature that hopelessly outmatched him. I wish I could have been half the man at his age… After that, I watched over your mother while she was in the hospital. Because Nate had impressed me… and
you
had impressed
him
. Be comforted in the fact that your mother will live to a ripe old age, dying of natural causes. In the distant future.”

Then he stepped a polite distance back from all of us. I was dumbfounded. Indie’s jaw was wide open. I touched her hand but she didn’t respond, so I leaned closer. “I guess I’m as awesome as I think I am.” Her eyes flashed towards me, as if just waking up. Then she leaned forward very aggressively and kissed me right on the mouth, wrapping her arms around me in a hug that hurt so bad it felt good. I patted her back as she rested her head on my shoulders, sobbing lightly, overwhelmed with joy at her mother’s guardian ang…
Horseman
.

Death cleared his throat. Everyone turned to face him, eyes filled with various flavors of appreciation and gratitude. “I hope that allayed any concerns you may have about me.” Everyone nodded, so he continued. “As I just said, this is only a courtesy call. I received a request from a mutual friend.” I squinted at Death, wondering what he was talking about. Then Charon appeared, nodding respectfully to me from his boat, drinking a beer. Luckily, he was keeping his face covered by his burlap hood. “He really thinks a lot of you.” Death added.

“Well, I’d rather not meet him on official business any time soon. Again. Or you.” I hoped Charon wasn’t about to speak, or else all of my friends would find out what it was like to soil their pants. That voice was going to haunt my dreams. I just knew it.

Death nodded with a grin. “Me neither. Me neither.”

“How’s Gruff?” I asked, curious about his horse.

“He’s fine. He was… intrigued by you, and your connection to Grimm.” Death arched a curious brow. “Is it merely a coincidence that…” he glanced to my friends, and then continued cryptically, “That you already have a horse to ride?” His emphasis on the last word made me shudder slightly, but I don’t think anyone else understood his meaning. Except Othello, but her face was blank, giving nothing away. I was not going to become the Horseman of Hope. First off, it sounded cheesy. Second, it seemed like a horrible job to take Hope from the world at the End of Days. They had only been kidding with me, right? I shrugged, ignoring my friends’ curious looks.

Death turned to my friends. “I have something to show all of you. Some people I would like to introduce you to.” My shoulders tightened.

“That’s probably not necessary-” I began nervously. My friends did
not
need to meet any of the other Horsemen.

Or Angels.

Or Demons.

“It was not a question.” Death answered coolly, reminding me of my place.

Wow.

My friends nodded as one, intrigued. We climbed into Charon’s boat, which seemed much larger than the first time I had ridden in it. I followed suit. “Just make sure you leave your hood up, Charon, and please don’t speak. Your breath is literally fatal.” He took another sip of his beer. I pointed at it frantically like a tattletale and looked at Death, who sat across from me. “You okay with our driver being drunk?” Death shrugged. Charon merely took another unconcerned drink as everyone climbed inside the boat. Then the world around us shifted between one blink of the eye and the next, and I found myself back on the River of Souls. My friends thought it really interesting. I merely felt tense.

Who wanted to meet my friends? Was this a trap of some kind? I mean, I really didn’t know Death all that well. Was this a trap? Kidnap me and my friends? My unease began to build at an alarming rate as I thought of all the horrible things that might await us. After an indeterminable amount of time, my friends realized it was actually quite boring to float down the River of Lost Souls. There were, after all, no sights. Just nothingness. Then a faint green haze abruptly appeared before our boat. I spotted towering statues on either side of the river, menacing creatures standing guard to what seemed like a large amphitheater.

They each depicted Cerberus, Hades’ pet guard dog. The beast that both protected his realm and prevented a spiritual prison break. As I watched one of them, I was suddenly ninety-nine percent sure that it blinked. I flinched as I noticed a giant drop of drool fall to the river without a splash. My friends didn’t notice, but Death shot me an amused smile.

As I turned back to strange sounds emanating from the amphitheater, I realized it was…
hopping
. Big band music blared from unseen speakers. And hundreds of people were dancing. I stared in curiosity as Charon rowed us up to an ornate pier. We came to a gentle stop and Death assisted the women out of the boat, but left Gunnar and I to fend for ourselves. He nodded respectfully at Othello, appraising her in a very hungry way. No way… She seemed to notice in a very appreciative way, blushing, but said nothing. I left
that
alone. It was none of my business.

Freak and let freak
, I guess.

We entered what seemed like a banquet or dance hall. And I realized that it wasn’t people dancing, but
souls
. And they were
everywhere
.

My mortal friends simply stared. The music quieted noticeably, but didn’t stop, and the crowd of souls turned as one to watch the master of their domain and his guests enter the party. Talk about Red Carpet attention. Death cleared his throat. “I believe you said something to Othello about
not going down without one hell of a fight.
That you were going to
cause such a ruckus dying that Death himself will shake my hand and send me back with a farewell party to get rid of me.
” I felt myself shrinking a bit in embarrassment as I stared into the Horseman’s eternal eyes.

Then he extended his hand. “Well, here’s your party, and here’s my handshake… my friend.” He said with a smile. I relaxed, and slowly reached out to shake it with a guilty smile, acknowledging the quote and his offer of friendship. Then the souls surrounding us bowed respectfully, some pointing at me with interest, before they began to step to the side to make room for us. They made an empty path across the length of the room between them, and at the end I saw two souls in particular facing the opposite direction. The crowd hushed and the two figures slowly turned.