Obsidian Son (The Temple Chronicles Book 1) by Shayne Silvers

Master Temple, not ‘old man.’ I found that next to your father before the police arrived. You haven’t been answering your phone, so I decided to meet you the old fashioned way. Didna’ want the Bobbies to find it. Awkward questions, and such, no doubt.” Bobbies was an English term for Policemen. Without preamble, the janitor rolled his shoulders, and my spell simply evaporated as if it had never existed. He continued tugging the cart through the heavy doors, and then disappeared outside, the door thudding closed behind him. I remained frozen, unable to even wonder how the senior citizen had so easily disarmed my magic. My gaze shifted from the door to the kerchief, and then to my parents’ tombstone.
    The message had been written in crimson ink.
    No, not ink. Blood.
    Then I was moving. I bolted outside, ready to interrogate Mallory further, but when I got there he was simply gone. His cart sat just outside the door, but of him, there was no sign. I saw the cab I had called earlier idling just outside, waiting patiently. After a few seconds of bewilderment, I decided to lock up the mausoleum via the electronic keypad, and angrily climbed inside the vehicle. “Did you see an old man leave the building a minute ago?” I growled in response to his jovial greeting.
    “Just you, sir.” He answered with a frown. I looked back. The cart was gone. What the hell ?
    “Never mind. Plato’s Cave in Soulard.” I calculated in my head. 7.5 miles. “Get me there in eight minutes.” He nodded eagerly as I flashed a fifty-dollar-bill at him. I leaned back into the worn leather seats, satisfied by the adrenaline-inducing formula-one driving abilities of the cabby. I closed my eyes with a sigh, thinking. I now knew the reason for the odd perimortem gash on his arm. What had been so important that my father had wanted to leave a message in his own blood? And what did that have to do with the upcoming solar eclipse in three days? Wait, two days now. I hadn’t even remembered the big event until the message on the kerchief. It just hadn’t seemed important. There was a big convention of astronomers in town awaiting that very spectacle, but I’d be damned if I knew how it was connected to my parents’ deaths. Something nagged at me, but I was too exhausted to worry about it.
    I began preparing a plan to acquire — or at least look into — the book that Raven had wanted me to find. Not knowing what it was about, or why it was so important, I figured that finding it might at least protect some of my fellow bookstore owners around town. Perhaps I could barter with one of the dragon sisters she mentioned. Either way, it was better to have it in my possession than remaining an unknown. I spoke a quick reminder into my iPhone, commanding the feminine intelligence queen to transfer it to my calendar in case I forgot later. I was meeting up with Gunnar in an hour to discuss the information he had dug up on Raven and her vague hints. He also had all the information on the latest bookstore attacks. Maybe if we kicked up enough dust we would find a trail.
    The taxi screeched to a halt in front of my bookstore. I glanced down at my phone. Seven minutes. I threw him the bill and climbed out. He tipped an imaginary hat at me, and — much more responsibly this time — pulled out into the street, adhering to the legal laws set-aside by the grand city of St. Louis.

Chapter 10

    M y phone vibrated before I had taken two steps. “Temple.” I answered.
    “Hey,” Gunnar replied, sounding grouchier than earlier. “My car died today.”
    That brought a brief grin to my face. “I know. I was there.”
    “No, it really died. It’s going to cost twice what it’s worth to fix it, so I will be a public transport kind of guy for a while.”
    “Well at least there’s tons of babes on the public bus.”
    “Not in this town. New York, maybe, but not St. Louis.”
    I tried not to laugh. “Still want me to swing by?” I answered