Obsidian Son (The Temple Chronicles Book 1) (39 page)

“Peter, do not do this. I beg you. It is a line you cannot re-cross.”

“Oh, I know the lines, Nate. Perhaps it’s you who don’t. I have lived on the other side of your precious line, and it wasn’t favorable. Now I’m on the side of power, but I do not whine and cower like you. I embrace the gift, and will put it to good use under Alaric. I would be a god under a Titan.” His eyes danced with hungry greed.

“I am with
him
.” He whispered, pointing a finger towards the door. As if it were a cue, the heavy doors creaked open and Alaric strode into the room, three more dragons trailing him.

“Ah, our guests have arrived. Let the festivities commence!” Alaric’s voice boomed into the cavernous room.

Chapter 39

I
recognized Tatiana — fully nude in human form — with her fiery red hair and glacial blue eyes, but the other two were smaller red dragons in full dragon form, perhaps the size of two Great Dane’s mashed together. Misha tensed beside me, her hand rising as if to caress them. They shot her icy, hateful stares but remained beside Alaric.

I heard the faintest of whispers from Misha, raw with grief. “My babies…”

My heart broke. “You die first, Tatiana. I promised, and I meant it.”

She smirked back, eyes daring me.

Peter was staring at Alaric like a loyal dog. There was nothing left of the man I had grown up with. Power had corrupted him entirely. I risked a glance at Gunnar, and saw a hopeless fight in his eyes. He was still inside there, but had no way to overcome the leash Peter was holding. It was up to me. To us.

Tory was breathing heavily as she glared at Alaric. Another nude woman stepped closer to her master, and I smiled in recognition. Aria. Tory had broken her arm yesterday in Alaric’s suite at the Expo. Then my smile wavered. She lifted up a perfectly healed arm to inspect in the sunlight, twisting it back and forth with a grin. “I can do a better job of it today, if you’re unsatisfied.” Tory offered, smiling.

Aria hissed back, but Alaric raised a commanding hand, amusement on his face. “Oh, I really like her.”

“Do you
like
me, like me?” She teased seductively, taking an aggressive step forward. I managed to hold her back, but it was like grabbing onto a moving car.

Alaric laughed at that. “What spunk!” He turned to me. “Do you like the reference?” He motioned at the epitaph above the entrance to the room.

“
Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain… Abandon all hope ye who enter here.
” I quoted easily. “But I doubt Dante would think this room worthy of comparison to the nine circles of hell.” I said, disinterested.

Alaric blinked back. “That is quite a memory.”

I waggled a hand. “Eidetic. Kinda’ neat, I know.”

“Did you know that Dante encountered Wyvern’s — an arcane term for dragons — while traipsing with Virgil through hell?” I rolled my eyes, nodding. “So I would argue that the inscription is indeed
worthy of comparison
.”

“Tomatoes, toe-mah-toes.” I murmured.

He frowned. “I hope that you now see how beneficial our situation could be together, Master Temple. One mustn’t be foolish or make hasty decisions. Our coalition will benefit all.” Peter’s eyes tightened at the prospect of me joining them.

“But I just can’t
stand
the idea of my city being overrun by a reptile dysfunction. It’s just not right.” There was a long silence, and then Tory bent over laughing, but she was the only one, as the rest of the guests were all dragons, and had no taste for my wit.

Alaric shook his head in disapprovl and turned to Peter, appraising him thoughtfully. “I hear congratulations are in order…” Raego struggled hopelessly against the sharp manacles, still oddly silent as his mouth opened wide in a yell of soundless pain.

Peter beamed. “I captured the traitor, Master.”

“Only with our aid, human. Don’t overstep yourself.” Tatiana warned.

Peter shrugged. “Neither of us could have done it on our own, true, but it
is
done, thanks to my aid.”

She began to argue, but Alaric interrupted her. “Pride
can
be agreeable… at times.” Peter smiled wider. “Come to me,” Peter obliged. “Your pet will be fine where he is for now.” He dropped the leash obediently.

“You gave him a pet? He can barely take care of himself, and you give him responsibility over another person?” I blurted, laughing.

Peter scowled, but Alaric spoke. “The werewolf is quite securely under my command. Peter as his guardian is not as risky as you might think.” Gunnar’s eyes had lost their hopeful spark. I wondered what the leash had done to him. Was it permanent, like my control over Misha?

Alaric began talking to Peter in a low voice, and I leaned over to Tory and Misha.

“Be ready.” I whispered, feeding my words through the link with them so that no one else could hear what was said.

Tory gave a barely discernable shake of her head. “I hope you two can be extra scary today, or we are all fucked.” She breathed.

“Scary is my forte…” I breathed back hungrily. Misha smiled faintly, still glancing with concern at her dragon children. I turned back to Alaric, ready to lay my cards on the table. Part of me died at what I was about to do, a lifetime of memories flashing through my mind as I remembered all my childhood experiences with my two best friends: Peter and Gunnar. But that was all it was now. Memories. Peter was lost. He had chosen the wrong side. Still, I didn’t know if I would ever be able to sleep again after this. It would haunt me forever.

But it was right.

“It seems Peter has found a new home with you here.” Alaric glanced over. “That’s good. From what you say, loyalty is fairly important to your harem.” He watched me more intently now, and I saw Peter’s face turn stony, apprehensive. “I just find it interesting, curious really, that you’re buddy, buddy with a man who happened to kill one of your…” I frowned dramatically. “I honestly don’t know what to call her. Your daughter? Lover?” I waved a hand in dismissal. “But I digress. The yellow one. Oily fire dragon?” Alaric’s face went blank in recognition. “Yep. Her. She sure didn’t like a glacier bullet to the chest from your newest minion. But who would, right?” I laughed lightly, but the tension in the room spiked. Dragons hissed, and Peter opened his mouth to argue.

Alaric reached out and placed a suddenly clawed hand on Peter’s shoulder, the claws piercing the flesh hard enough for Peter to cry out. “It seems my congratulations are unnecessary, and punishment is in order. She was one of my favorites… You told me that Master Temple was responsible for her untimely death.”

Peter began to answer, but Alaric squeezed his shoulder tighter. Without a word spoken by Alaric, Tatiana grabbed Peter’s arm and led him over beside Raego, chaining him up. “For this information alone I would have given you anything you wished, but as this is something I already promised it seems I will be in your debt.” Alaric sighed to me.

I blinked, not understanding. Tatiana stepped away from Peter’s bound body with a satisfied smile, but not before licking his neck hungrily. “I give you your thief, Master Temple. This is the man who stole the curious music box from Temple Industries…Your best friend.” I stared, having momentarily forgotten about the odd box. I was dumbfounded, but suddenly even less concerned about what I was committing Peter to. Not only had he betrayed me, but he had also betrayed my parents.

Un-fucking-forgivable.

My vision pulsed with the blood behind my eyes as I stared into his soul, and I knew that even with his newfound power, part of him stilled in unbridled fear — a delicious fuel for my revenge.

It was a start.

“I see.” I managed to say as the room steadily darkened. I glanced up to see that the moon was slowly merging with the sun, blocking out a quarter of the natural light.

“So it seems we each have a traitor in our mist. Yours, a dear friend from childhood who would betray anything for power… even biting the hand that feeds him.” Alaric added the last with a growl. “And mine, my own son who chose to abandon his familial duties.” He turned away from the two traitors, and looked me in the eye. “So, who dies first?” He grinned; anxious at the pain the choice would cause me.

No one could ask for a better opening.

“Thought you would never ask.” I drew the pistol at the back of my waist, and shot Tatiana directly in the forehead, the explosive sound was deafening in the cavernous room. Remembering Raego’s warning about blood and the ritual, I quickly lashed out with a blinding bar of white-hot fire, decapitating her at the shoulders and burning her head to ashes in a single second. My fire even incinerated the gore from the blowback of the bullet wound before it had a chance to touch the ground, and then it scored a charred streak in the rock wall on the other side of the room before I released my power. Alaric leapt back at the first sight of the gun. Tatiana’s wound was instantly cauterized, so no blood stained the floor. Her body struck the ground a moment later, breasts wiggling on impact. The room was silent as a tomb as I casually re-holstered my weapon. Alaric finally turned to me, face utterly blank. “I already told you.
She
dies first.” I said with a cool smirk.

Tory looked sick to her stomach. “Scary is
definitely
your forte.” She whispered.

Chapter 40

A
laric’s fury was palpable. “Perhaps our coalition will not work after all. You will pay for that,
Archangel
. She was my… most precious.” His eyes glinted with rage and sadness as he avoided glancing at Tatiana’s corpse. “I shall have fun with you later.” His gaze almost made me shiver. “But back to business…” He pointed at the two bound men, the room slowly growing darker as the moon enveloped the sun by degrees. One of the dragon guards began lighting several torches around the room.

“Both shall be punished, of that I can assure you, but I only need one to fuel the ritual. Only one’s blood must flow to make me the Obsidian Son the dragons have needed for so long.” He brandished the book from a pocket, tossing back his robe so that he stood nude from the waist up, baggy pants covering his lower half with a wide silk sash. “Thanks for this, by the way.” He caressed the book. “I’ve had the morning to study her secrets, relishing in our long history of power. The passage you will experience is rather short, but quite… impacting. Now, decide who dies. I’ll even let you kill your dear friend yourself, if you wish.”

I stared at Peter, my rage even more powerful than when I had first heard of my parents’ murder. As agreeable as it sounded, I couldn’t do it. It would forever break me. Tory didn’t seem to know me well enough, anxiously shaking her head at me not to do it. My power began coursing down my skin almost as if preparing to form Stoneskin for protection, but it was slightly different. I couldn’t stop it from happening. Alaric pointed a finger at me, commanding me to stop, but I couldn’t.

The power washed out of me like a retreating tide, spilling over everyone in the room. Each of Alaric’s minions instantaneously exploded into dragon form as it hit them. I tried to hold it in, knowing that it had only made matters worse for us. With extreme effort I managed to regain control of it, fearing what would happen if I didn’t. I was sure I’d just made matters worse for the home team since the dragons were stronger in their true monstrous form. Shit. Misha purred beside me as the huge red dragon I had met above the courthouse, her tail swishing back and forth. I appreciated how large the room was now. With this many dragons inside, there was still plenty of room to run laps around the perimeter for a workout. Alaric had only shifted his arms, but he didn’t look pleased at even that lack of self-control.

I spoke before he could. “Why must I decide? You, who resorted to a level of violence I have never before seen in my city for a book that I obtained so easily, are not even man enough to condemn your own son? Do you value life so low that you would murder before all else? Yet now you cannot take even one life?” I laughed into the cavernous room, my voice full of scorn as it echoed off the walls. “You’re a crock.”