Homicide and Hot Tubs

by Annabel Chase

  Finally. Someone who sounded miffed about being here. I appreciated that hint of honesty. Everyone else was shaking their Divine Place pom poms, trying to make me believe that purgatory was every bit as good as the higher-level alternatives. I didn’t buy that for one second.

  “Did you have a pretty awesome life as a mountain god or something?” I asked.

  He tipped back his head and laughed. “Not quite. I’m a jinni, not a god. It’s the reason I can grant your wish for root beer.”

  Oh. Now it made sense. “So you’re like the genie in Aladdin? Someone rubbed you out of a lamp?” I cringed as the words left my mouth. “Sorry, that sounded dirtier than I expected.”

  Seth flinched. “I am nothing like the genie in Aladdin. He made a mockery of our species.”

  “Well, yeah. Will Smith certainly did, but Robin Williams was amazing.” I’d clearly touched on a sore subject. “You should come to my welcome party tonight,” I said, in an effort to smooth things over. “It sounds like Gia invited half the village anyway.”

  “I would be honored to join the festivities, but I’m afraid I’ll be otherwise engaged.”

  “Hope she’s worth it,” I said. “So if you’re magical, does that mean I can get waffle fries and curly fries?”

  He collected the menus from the table with a slight bow. “Your wish is my command.”

  Chapter Two

  “Gia, you outdid yourself,” I said. “This party is amazing.”

  We stood in a ‘free space’ between a Zone 1 neighborhood and the Gods Complex, one of the recreational centers. There were two makeshift bars, a deejay, and more food than I could eat in a month.

  “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” Gia said. The matronly goddess wore a flowy dress with a colorful abstract design. “I remember how hard it was to come to terms with the fact that I didn’t make it all the way to the Elysian Fields. It must be worse for you, knowing you don’t belong here.”

  I wagged a finger at her. “And one of these days, you’re going to tell me why you do.” I was dying to know how the goddess of good cheer ended up in the supernatural equivalent of purgatory when she should’ve been being hand-fed grapes by a gorgeous guy in a toga for the rest of eternity.

  Gia brought her glass to her lips and moved the umbrella aside before taking a long sip and walking away. She was pleading the Fifth, like all my favorite Bravolebrities on Watch What Happens Live.

  “There you are, Eloise.” Mitzi approached us with the caution of a gazelle approaching a crocodile-infested lake in Africa. I wanted to reassure her that we don’t bite. I couldn’t speak for the vampires at the party, though.

  “Hey, you wore a floral sundress,” I said. Shocking.

  The witch fidgeted with her glasses. “I tried on another outfit first, but I was too uncomfortable so I changed.”

  I slung an arm along her shoulders. “You know, sometimes we have to let ourselves feel discomfort in order to experience much-needed change.”

  “Really?”

  “So I’ve heard.” I released her and pointed to the bar. “Let’s get you hammered, witchy poo. Where should we start? Jell-O shots?”

  She brightened. “I love Jell-O.”

  “But do you like it with vodka? Because the blue ones are full of it.” I sauntered to the bar with Mitzi beside me. “If vodka isn’t your thing, then the red ones have Everclear, which I can’t quite believe Gia managed to find.” It had been a staple of my misbegotten youth.

  The bartender smiled. “She hired an excellent party planner.”

  “Gia didn’t plan all this herself?” I asked.

  “She planned it in the sense that she gave pertinent instructions and information about you so that the party was personalized for you.”

  “The only thing missing is the most sought-after band in Divine Place,” the bartender said. “You need more notice to snag them, but I saw a couple of them here tonight.”

  “What kind of music do they play?” I asked.

  The bartender gesticulated energetically, clearly a fan. “It’s a cool mix of jazz and rock.”

  I held up a hand. “You can stop right there. I hate jazz with the passion of a million Pokémon-Go players.”

  “You’re missing out,” the bartender said. “What can I get you?”

  I gestured to Mitzi. “Witches before bitches.”

  The witch studied the options, though I wasn’t convinced she recognized any of the bottles she was so studiously inspecting. “What’s the one with the kraken on the label?”

  “Rum,” I said. I knew that one without reading the label. “Good with soda if you want to keep it simple.” I eyed the Jell-O shots. “I really need to sample a few of these. The colors are too vibrant to ignore.”

  The bartender pushed the tray forward and I sucked down one of each color. They were as amazing as they were colorful.

  “Looks like someone’s having a good time.”

  I recognized the sultry voice of Jules. “It’s my welcome party,” I said, turning toward her. “Why wouldn’t I have a good time?”

  The vampire shrugged. “Some villagers cry at theirs and it’s a real downer. I’m glad to see you embracing it.”

  “I’ve got my cat with me and a bar full of my favorite beverages,” I said, and greedily accepted a fruity drink from the bartender. “Can’t get much better than this.” Across the lawn, I spotted Cole and my stomach plummeted to my feet. Okay, now it was better.

  The gorgeous demigod caught my eye and grinned. Jules seemed to notice the exchange. “Your deputy is here. How sweet.”

  She might’ve growled, but it could’ve been the alcohol distorting my hearing. I skipped over to Cole, feeling more like seventeen than forty-seven. It was hard to believe I’d be forty-seven for eternity. I’d never throw myself a fiftieth birthday party like a lot of people I knew. Middle age was my last stop on the Life Express. There’d be no wrinkles—no more than I had anyway. No hip replacements. No Medicare.

  “No Social Security,” I blurted, as I reached Cole.

  The demigod gave me a curious look. “Sorry. What?”

  “I’ve been paying into Social Security my whole life and now I never get to receive any payments. It isn’t fair.”

  “You want to go back to your old life just so you can reap the benefits of Social Security?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

  “I’d also like to see the last book in Game of Thrones get published, so there’s that.”

  His brow lifted. “I thought you told me you weren’t a big reader. Aren’t those books long?”

  “I said I’d like to see it published. I didn’t say I intended to read it.”

  He chuckled. “What are you drinking? Looks fancy.”

  My gaze dropped to my colorful glass brimming with fruit and alcohol. “No idea, but I hope it’ll make me feel like dancing.” I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “Just kidding. I always feel like dancing. No drink required.”

  “Are you enjoying your big party?” he asked.

  “What’s not to enjoy? Music. Booze. Plenty of strangers to embarrass myself in front of.” I beamed at him. “Feels like home.” Minus the horns, wings, and magic, of course.

  “Mischief stayed home?”

  “She’s not one for crowds. Her fight or flight tends to kick in and she starts hissing and swiping with abandon.” Kind of like me on Black Friday.

  “We have that in common,” he said. “The crowd part. I don’t hiss or swipe too often though.”

  “You haven’t lived until you’ve freaked out some uptight lady in the supermarket checkout by pretending to go feral when she starts loading her avocado too close to yours on the conveyer belt without putting down a divider.”

  “That’s oddly specific.”

  “I like to provide context.” I guzzled down the rest of my drink. “You should introduce me to the guests at my party. I only recognize like four of you.”

  “I found the sweets.” Mitzi approached
us with a vanilla cupcake in her hand.

  “Where did you get a cupcake?” I asked, practically salivating at the sight of the frosting. I was a chocolate girl, but any port in a dessert storm.

  “There’s a whole table dedicated to treats,” she said, and pointed past me. “All sorts of cookies and brownies.”

  I eyed her closely. “Did you say all sorts of brownies?”

  “Yes,” Mitzi began, but Cole cut her off.

  “No, not those kind,” he said.

  Mitzi frowned in confusion. “Yes, brownies. They look wonderful. Very fudgy.”

  I patted her arm. “Thanks, Mitzi. I can take it from here.” Before I could hunt down the dessert table, I noticed a small group huddled over by the deejay. I scanned the supernaturals for any familiar faces. There was an attractive woman with short golden hair and fast-moving wings that kept her feet slightly off the ground. Earrings seemed to cover every inch of space from her lobe to the top.

  “Why are her wings so tiny and quick?” I asked.

  “She’s a pixie,” Mitzi said. “Their wings are smaller than fairies’.”

  “I thought I had to believe in her or she dies,” I said, reaching deep into my well of knowledge that basically consisted of Peter Pan.

  Mitzi gave me a dark look. “Why do you think she’s here?”

  I clapped a hand over my mouth, feeling the effects of the alcohol. “We killed her?”

  Mitzi burst into laughter. “Sorry, that was cruel—and so unlike me. No, only the gods get put out to pasture that way when they stop being worshipped. Pixies die like other mortal supernaturals. No one has to believe in them for them to exist.”

  “Could you see if there are any rocky road brownies?” I asked. I wanted to see whether Cole had a present for me, which meant playing a brief game of ditch the witch.

  “Sure,” Mitzi said. She immediately darted across the lawn, practically tripping over her sandals. At least she’d left the socks at home tonight.

  “She’s sweet,” Cole said.

  “You smell sweet.” I inhaled so intensely that I started to cough.

  Cole laughed. “Are you okay?”

  “You smell like sandalwood and grapefruit,” I said. “You’re like a Yankee candle that never melts.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  I caught sight of a guy over his shoulder as he seemed to be addressing the blades of grass. “He reminds me of one my neighbors.” I narrowed my eyes. “What is he doing?” I watched in awe as one of the table legs next to him was transformed from a solid line to an intricate design.

  Cole turned to follow my gaze. “That’s Solang. God of canoe builders and carpenters.”

  A barking laugh escaped me. “That’s a godly skill?”

  “It’s an important job,” Cole said. “The world needs carpenters.”

  “True.” Still not convinced it warranted its own deity though. Then again, I was enjoying Solang’s party game of improving every piece of wood in sight. “Why does he talk to the grass before he conjures his carpentry magic?”

  “The ants help him,” Cole said.

  My eyes widened. “There are ants in the afterlife?” I wasn’t sure why that fact surprised me so much. There seemed to be everything else.

  “Ants can be annoying,” Cole said. “We’ve got a long list of irritants in Divine Place. It’s part of the package.”

  “Wasps?” Bees I could handle because they were important to the environment. Wasps, on the other hand, had no place other than Hell.

  “Only if you have a picnic,” he said. “They seem to pop up the second you unwrap a leg of fried chicken.”

  Great. Not that I liked picnics anyway. If I’m going to chow down on unhealthy food, it’s going to be slunk down in shame in the driver’s seat of my car like the Good Lord intended. I guess it would have to be in my golf cart now, although that provided more of an open-air environment. There was no hiding anything in a golf cart.

  “I saw you in the jewelry store today,” I said. Subtlety was not my forte.

  Cole appeared thoughtful. “Right. I was getting my watch fixed.”

  “Oh.” I felt a stab of disappointment and quickly brushed it off. I barely knew Cole. Why would he have bought me such a special gift? Then I thought of the marshal badge he’d had made for me and realized that I’d probably set unreasonable expectations.

  Jules popped her head between us. “Who wants another drink?”

  “Be careful or I might get used to a steady stream of alcohol delivered directly to my greedy little hands,” I said.

  Jules handed me another drink. “You should try the pool in Zone 2. The swim-up bar is amazing.”

  My mouth formed a small circle and I struggled to find words to express my excitement over this revelation. “That is a grave omission during orientation. How is this not the first thing mentioned? It should be printed at the top of each and every pamphlet.”

  “I’ll take you,” Jules said. “Your little witch friend is no good in pools.”

  I leaned forward and whispered, “She pees in them?” I wouldn’t hold it against her. The combination of alcohol and water was potent sometimes.

  Jules scowled. “Are you already drunk?”

  I held up my glass in each hand. “Drinking. The gerund form.”

  “Mixie can’t swim,” Jules said. “She’s that kind of witch.”

  “Mitzi,” I said. “Her name is mitts—like two baseball gloves—and the sound of the letter ‘e.’” I tapped my empty glass against my head, thinking. “Did I know there are different types for witches?”

  “There are twenty thousand species of bees,” Jules said. “Why wouldn’t there be multiple types of witches?”

  I shrugged. “Because they’re not bees.” I noticed a blonde with a surfer vibe playing the flute for a group of eager guests. “Who’s that guy and why did he bring a flute to my party?”

  “Stromkarl,” Cole said. “He’s also known as River Man.”

  I cut him a sideways glance. “Why do I detect a story in that name?”

  “Most of us call him Karl,” Jules said. “Back in the day, he was a sought-after musician.”

  “He knew eleven tunes and would teach them to those who wanted to learn,” Cole said.

  I blew a raspberry. “Eleven tunes? Big deal. Even I can play eleven tunes.” I lifted my glass to my lips and started to blow like I’d seen people do on those talent shows.

  Jules snatched the empty glass from me, so I started drinking the second one.

  “The rule used to be that if someone dared to play the eleventh tune, then everyone had to dance wildly,” Cole added. “That part went out of fashion a few centuries ago.”

  “Bummer.” I polished off my next drink and handed the empty glass to Jules. “Refill, bartender.”

  Cole laughed. “You’re a brave soul, Eloise.”

  “Or a stupid one,” Jules said. Despite her statement, she marched off with my empty glasses in hand.

  “Are you sure you don’t have magic?” Cole asked. “Because that was pretty impressive.”

  “I think she likes that I’m different,” I said. “She’s a rebel, so she’s naturally drawn to what doesn’t belong.”

  Cole nodded sagely. “That’s insightful considering you haven’t known her very long…and you’re a little drunk.”

  “Please. She’s textbook.” Textbook scary, but still textbook.

  Jules returned with two shot glasses. “They’re out of margarita mix, so I got us tequila shots.” She glared at Cole. “Ladies only.”

  I stared at the tequila, feeling deflated. “I guess this really is purgatory. Who runs out of margarita mix?” I paused. “I guess if it were Hell, they would’ve run out of the tequila.”

  Jules clinked her glass against mine. “Damn straight.” She tossed back her shot and smiled, flashing her fangs in the process.

  I tipped back my glass and let the liquid gold coat my tongue. “Thank you, serving wench.”
I shoved the empty shot glass into her hand and swayed to the side.

  Jules watched me, amused. “How long do you think you can stay standing? Let’s experiment. It’ll be fun.” She darted off to fetch me another drink.

  “Thanks for coming to my party. It looks like I have friends.” I punched Cole’s arm. Well, I attempted to punch Cole’s arm and missed.

  “You do have friends, Eloise. And, I never thought I’d say this, but it feels good to be part of a team.”

  I fell against his chest, and my face tipped up to gaze at his demigodly beauty. “We do make a good couple, don’t we?”

  His grin was infectious. “I said team.”

  I pressed a hand flat against his shirt and felt the powerful muscles lurking beneath the thin fabric. “How are you single in a place like this?”

  He curled his fingers around mine and gently removed my hand. “A place like this? You think Divine Place is romantic?”

  “I’m not suggesting this is like a Sandals Resort for supernaturals, but there are so many hotties strutting around the village…” I bent my neck a little further to see him clearly and nearly fell backward in the process. “I can see up your nostrils. Not a nose hair to be found. Good job with the tweezers.” I patted his chest.

  “Were you this forthright in your mortal life?” he asked.

  “Oh, definitely.” A half snort, half hiccup followed. “I didn’t even need to be drunk. I appreciate honesty and authenticity.”

  “I get that sense from you.”

  My lips parted in a flirtatious smile. “You want to kiss me, don’t you?”

  “Not after you’ve had this many drinks.”

  I wagged a finger in his face. “Aha! That means you do want to kiss me when I’m sober. Thought so. I have a pretty decent radar when it comes to guys being attracted to me.”

  “Eloise,” he said quietly.

  “You don’t have to whisper it. I’m not embarrassed by your hots for me. I totally get it. I’d be hot for me too. I’m a blonde for starters and we all know blondes are better.”

  He couldn’t resist a smirk. “Better than what?”

  “Brunettes, blue hair, whatever you got.” I waved a hand so high that I accidentally smacked his face. I stroked his cheeks with more emphasis than I probably intended. Drunk Eloise had a tendency to paw people.