Obsidian Son (The Temple Chronicles Book 1) (25 page)

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Authors: Shayne Silvers

Tags: #Urban Fantasy, #Paranormal, #comedy, #St. Louis, #Werewolves, #were-dragon, #romance, #weredragon, #weredragons, #Funny, #Magic, #Adventure, #bestseller, #Fantasy, #were-wolf, #werewolf, #Wizard, #dragon hunters, #Action, #Dragons, #Supernatural, #new, #Suspense, #mystery, #Romantic, #were-dragons, #Dragon, #were-wolves, #thriller, #best-seller, #wizards

BOOK: Obsidian Son (The Temple Chronicles Book 1)
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“I think it’s safe to say that they have discovered it somewhere near my city.”

He grunted. “But I don’t know what this has to do with my mark. I have heard neither hide nor hair of him since we arrived. Just a trail leading here, and then nothing.”

“Tell me about him.” I said carefully. “If you trust me. Perhaps we can help each other. I just want this all to stop, I don’t care who gets credit for it.”

“I was hired to take out a rogue black dragon. Sometimes he goes by the name Raego. Ever heard of him? Seen him?”

I shook my head, and realized he couldn’t see me. “No.” I searched Othello’s documents for the name, but came up with nothing. “Why would your client want him dead? Or whatever it is you do.”

“Questions aren’t part of the job. Just the money for a head. I have never met a good dragon, so it is pretty cut and dry. But this one is dangerous. Comes from an old family. Have you ever heard of a black dragon?” He asked me very slowly.

I could sense the seriousness, so I kept my answer formal. “No, but I’ve recently seen a rainbow of others. Even silver.”

“Yes, I heard about that one on the news. Also very dangerous. But nothing compared to the black.”

“I was on the news?” I asked, surprised.

“Yep.” He let the silence build, but I knew Gunnar was on the way.

“I’ve seen a red one spit fire.” I added.

He growled, a familiar sound from Tomas, I was beginning to realize. “We almost had that one on the courthouse until that crazy old man harpooned her with a lightning stick. He one of yours?”

“Yes.” I answered carefully.

“Damn. Maybe we
should
have you teach us a thing or two. You’re mighty resourceful for a Noob dragon slayer.”

“I’m
mighty resourceful
with anyone who tries to kill me. Whether I know dick about them or not.” He laughed deeply. “I saw the yellow one create oily fire. And the silver one could spit bullets in all sorts of shapes and sizes.” I thought back. “And they all had some kind of mind control power. Is that common?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, and I realized he was taking a drink, obviously something stiff because his voice came back raspy. “Not common at all.”

“So you’re saying that the first dragons I have ever encountered are uber-dangerous? Cream of the crop murderers?”

“Seems that way.”

Of course they were. “Okay, so what’s so special about the black one?”

He took another drink, and then he spilled his words in a rush. “It is said, because I have never met someone who has survived one, that they can bend shadows, appearing and disappearing at whim. Their mind magic is so subtle and powerful that their victims won’t realize until days later that they have acted any different than normal. They can melt fire, petrify with a look, shape-shift into different people entirely, mind-fuck other dragons, et cetera, et cetera. Point being, the most dangerous of the bastards. Do you have any idea what kind of reputation a kill like that could make?”

“If he is guilty, of course.”

“Right, I show up in town hunting rumors of the most badass dragon in centuries, and all of a sudden you have a reptile dysfunction in your city.”

I began laughing. “Nice. I will have to remember that.”

Tomas grunted in pride before continuing. “A flock of lady dragons murdering and pillaging for no reason. Probably just a coincidence.”

“Harem.” I corrected.

“What?”

“I like to think of them as a harem. A bunch of females at your beck and call? Harem, definitely a harem.”

“Fine, a harem.” He chided, sounding upset he hadn’t come up with it himself.

“But why would a book be so important to them?” I pondered aloud.

Tomas was quiet. “A book? Is that what this is all about? Why they’ve been killing all you nerds?”

“See? Information trading is beneficial. And I am one rich, motherfucking nerd, thank you very much.”

“Spill it, Temple.”

“Each one I have encountered, or scene the aftermath of, was searching for a book.
The Sons of the Dying Sun
. Does that mean anything to your extensive knowledge on dragons?” I mocked.

“Can’t say that it does. Do you think it’s what they have been searching for all this time? For their ritual?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.” I admitted. “But it seems awfully important to them. Enough to risk losing a few of his flock to the local wizard billionaire.”

“Billionaire?” He gasped. “Why in the hell aren’t you in Bora Bora, fucking, drinking, and fucking your problems away?”

“Already done as much of both as I could before becoming a local nuisance.”

“Damn. You do this for fun then?”

“To be honest, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. The first dragon just kinda stumbled into my lap.” I remembered that first encounter and grew angrier. “She pissed me off by destroying a treasured tome. One of a kind type of book.”

“Did you just say the word
tome
?” He asked, barely containing his laughter.

“It is what an educated man calls those flippy, heavy things with pieces of paper and strange symbols inside. They also have some with pictures, but those are usually not called tomes.”

“Alright, Merlin.” He chuckled.

I scanned the email from Othello, catching Hermes name a few times. Interesting. “I haven’t been able to find much on this book. Barely that it even exists. Just mentions and vague references, but no hard facts. I didn’t think I would be even that successful, or they would have undoubtedly found it by now.”

“True.”

I heard Indie shout my name from downstairs. “I gotta run, Tomas. I’ll be visiting
Artemis’ Garter
tonight, a club in the Central West End. Judging from my track record, no doubt I’ll run into some interesting people there. You should have men there just in case, that way you aren’t bitching at me tomorrow about stealing your glory and all that.”

He laughed for a long time. “No way. You’re picking
there
to hang out in the middle of all
this
? You really are a reckless bastard.”

I frowned. “Never been there, but it has an open roof, which is good for quick escapes. And Artemis is the moon goddess, so it fits.” I offered.

“Whatever. See you there.” He laughed again as he hung up.

Why did everyone laugh at my choice of locale? Guess I would find out later. I gathered up my things, pocketed my phone, and raced down the stairs. Indie was watching me curiously. I fingered her thong in my pocket and shot her a smile, revealing a bit of the thin satin so that only she could see. “I will return them to you as soon as I am able, my lady.”

“Such a gentleman,” she cooed. “Like the note?”

I simply stared back, undressing her with my eyes. My look must have worked because her cheeks tinted the slightest red. I used a bit of magic to pinch her behind, and she squeaked. “I shall see you soon.” I laughed.

“Quite literally.” She winked back seductively so that only I could see.

Alex looked back and forth between us, apparently not understanding. “You two are acting kind of weird.” He said, but appeared aloof to our true conversation. Indie intended for me to
see
quite a bit more of her soon. It sounded like a good idea to me.

“There’s a monstrosity of a vehicle parked diagonally in front of our store. Just because he has a badge doesn’t mean that he gets to block your customers from the entrance.” Indie grumped, very manager-like.

“Agreed. I’ll file a complaint with the FBI.” I bolted out the door and saw Gunnar pressing buttons on the dash, a look of pure joy on his face. He was early. The silver SUV gleamed in the sun, shiny rims, and military-grade tires lifting the body up high. I slid inside with aid of the ‘oh-shit’ bar just above the inside of the passenger door and smiled back at him.

“This is so cool!” He grinned.

“Glad you like it. The manager of
Plato’s Cave
would like to file a complaint against the FBI for a terrible parking job that is blocking my front door from customers.”

He smiled back. “Call Captain Kosage, I’ll just run his little ass over with my shiny new tank.” I laughed, nodding. “Temple Industries?” He asked loudly, pressing a button.

I began to answer when the Navigation unit spoke back. “Estimated trip duration, twenty minutes. Please buckle your seatbelts.” Gunnar pounded the wheel like a child with his new favorite Christmas toy and took off.

Chapter 26

M
y dress shoes clacked against the floors as I strode down the marble hallway of my new palace, Temple Industries. Receptionists, scientists, engineers, mail clerks, and lower peasants all, gawked openly as their new CEO meandered through the halls, hopelessly lost. I had been too stubborn to ask for help, and my minions had been too terrified to hurt my pride. So we walked, Gunnar behind me, glancing here and there at different labs and offices.

I had no fucking idea where we were.

“So, is this the tour?” Gunnar mocked.

I sighed, finally pointing a commanding finger at one of my new minions carrying a bundle of papers. “I need to speak with Ashley Belmont. Would you be so kind as to guide me to her office?”

He bumped into a copier, almost dropping his stack of papers. “Me?”

“No, the woman behind you.” Bless his heart; he actually turned around to look. When he turned back he was blushing furiously.

“Um, follow me?” He said nervously, voice rising higher on the last word.

“Sure thing. But let me offer a word of advice. Don’t incline your voice at the end of your sentences. Apologizing is a sign of weakness.”

“Sorr-” He hesitated. “Right. This way then, Master Temple?” His face turned even darker as he did it again.

“Just think on it.” I sighed reluctantly, motioning him onward.

He led us through the labyrinth of offices and labs, zigzagging this way and that until he finally came to a set of thick black doors and a desk. An aged receptionist glared at him, and then us. “Appointment?”

“No.” I answered, feigning frustration.

“Miss Belmont is rather busy, what with that rapscallion Temple son doing nothing around here. I swear. If he walked in right now, I would give him a piece of my mind. It just isn’t right to run a company like this.” I nodded back. The tour-guide looked about ready to swallow his tongue, but remained silent out of corporate fear. “Be that as it may, you need an appointment. Honestly, I don’t know how you got in here without beeping somebody.” She arched her neck to study Gunnar. “He looks like a cop. Is that why you’re here? A couple upstart detectives looking for a case-breaker? Well, you can just leave like all the others. Appointments are like the Ten Commandments around here. Followed to a T.” She leaned back, face smug with satisfaction.

I smiled, unable to help myself. “I hear all sorts of things about this Temple son. Is he as bad as all that? Have you never seen him before?” Gunnar and the tour guide stiffened as one, not wanting to be a part of the conversation.

“Off the record?” She asked, squinting her eyes. I nodded. “I hear he’s into all sorts of depraved acts. Why, I hear he even…” She glanced around to be sure we were alone. She lowered her voice, leaning forward. “Has premarital sex. Frequently. With all types of women. It isn’t right. It just isn’t. He needs a strong role model. He needs to be here running his company. I hear he even smokes and drinks. Bah. If he were my son, I’d grab him by the ear and teach him a thing or two. That’s what I’d do. But who listens to old Greta? Nobody, that’s who.” She composed herself, patting her coffered hair. “Now, names and identification, please. I will schedule an appointment at Miss Belmont’s earliest convenience.”

I strode forward, grinning like an idiot. The tour guide looked apoplectic, searching for an immediate escape. I handed over my driver’s license with Gunnar’s on top. She scanned his and opened her planner, flipping pages a few weeks ahead knowingly, speaking aloud. “There is an opening in three weeks on Wednesday. Shall that work, Agent Randulf, and…” Her eyes widened, looking up at me, horrified. “Master Temple!”

“The one and only.” I grinned.

“Oh, bother! An old lady does have a loose tongue!”

“It’s quite alrig-” I began.

“Oh, it certainly is
not
! Foolish, foolish,
foolish
! I’m terribly sorry. I’ll just page Miss Belmont, and be packing up my box then.” She was flustered, rearranging papers back and forth, utterly lost. I spotted a tear at the corner of one eye.

I opened my mouth to speak, and she leveled a gnarled finger at me. “Oh, no you don’t. If I’m to be fired, I’ll do it with all the dignity an old lady can muster.”

“But-” She slapped her hand down onto her desk like a clap of thunder.


No
! You should be ashamed of yourself, letting me ratter on like that, digging my own grave. You are everything I heard about if you would do such a thing to an old woman. You don’t need a
role
model. You need
Jesus
!” The last was a shriek.

The door to Ashley’s office flew open then. Gunnar was pathetically trying to suppress a laugh, doubled over with his hands clasped around his knees. “What in the
hell
is going on out here?” She saw me, and blinked. “Master Temple. Is everything quite alright?”

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