Obsidian Son (The Temple Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Why the secrecy?” The words sounded hollow even to me. Books were not merely books, at least not always. I’ve cracked a deadly spine once or twice in my day.
    Like Twilight . Now that was deadly. The series had managed to turn normal adolescent girls into raving, hormone-filled psychopaths intent on dating vampires, and no one would ever knowingly do something that stupid.
    He ignored my question. “Good… It’s nice to know that some still honor their word.” He rubbed his shoulders, signaling the end of business. “So, I’ll meet you two nights from now? Where is our next cloak and dagger rendezvous?” He grinned. “I recommend somewhere not so near to your place of business, wizard.” He hadn’t known that appellation last time, or at least hadn’t revealed it.
    I told him a place off the top of my head, and he began laughing. “Interesting venue. Ever been there?” I shook my head, and he laughed even harder. “Okay.”
    “I don’t even know your name.” I said, ignoring whatever he found so funny.
    His nose crinkled as he scanned the street, muscles tensing slightly. “It’s better that way. My name is on too many lips already. It seems I have many…” he glanced around again, muscles growing tighter, “Fans. See you in two days, Temple.”
    Then he stepped back into the alley, and… disappeared, even to my senses. He was simply gone . “Whatever.” I muttered to the empty alley. I turned away, taking another puff from my cigarette, and my phone vibrated in my pocket. I glanced down, read the text, and then glanced across the street to my store. I saw my two friends, Gunnar and Peter, leaning against the door, staring at me. They were waiting for our monthly nightcap, as we had done for the last five years in order to maintain our friendship amidst diversifying careers, and, well, just life in general getting in the way. I stepped away from the wall and waved as I headed their way, eager for that drink.

Chapter 5

    G unnar glanced behind me towards the alley as I approached. “Nate.” I took another drag of the cigarette, and then stomped it out under a heel. Gunnar Randulf was built like a house, tall, strong, and skin as pale as fine alabaster. His face was hard, with a double-cleft chin, and a rough, but neat blonde beard covered his lower face. Blonde hair brushed his jaws, looking expensively well kept — he had been forced to use some bogus religious excuse so that the FBI wouldn’t make him cut it short. Gunnar Randulf was descended from the Norse Vikings, his last name meaning ‘Shield-wolf,’ and he left a trail of broken hearts wherever he walked. But despite all the attention his looks gained him from the fairer sex, he seemed immune to the casual chase, instead searching for that one true love. It was like trying to find the perfect steak without ever eating meat before.
    He was the worst wingman ever .
    Peter on the other hand, was a study in contrasts — handsome, but unremarkable. Tall and wiry, with bright blue eyes, he looked like every other Yuppie in town. They each wore slacks and a shirt, not having changed from their respective jobs before heading over to my digs. I had known them both since childhood, and we had been friends ever since. Peter, being a regular with no unique powers, was definitely the odd ball out, but it hadn’t affected our friendship at all. “Who were you talking to?” Gunnar’s face was curious, glancing into the alley.
    “Whom. Fucking whom ! Is everyone illiterate?” I grouched.
    Peter chuckled. We were alone on the street. “I sensed him… sensing me. Then he was gone. And he smells like shit.” Gunnar said.
    “Sorry, but the smell is all me. I had an accident.”
    Gunnar’s baby-blues weighed me, but ignored my hygiene. “ What was he?”
    If Gunnar couldn’t even place what the kid was, then I had no idea. I shrugged. “A client. That’s all I know. And they pay my bills. Sort of a don’t ask don’t tell policy. You two