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Hear No Evil: Book 27 in the Godhunter Series

Page 5

by Amy Sumida


  Hades, Re, Hekate, and Thor had all been diligently watching their assigned death goddesses, but not a single one of them had done anything unusual. Meanwhile, we were continuing to search for other possibilities. But today, I was spending with Trevor and Vero; reveling in the triumph of having them both in my arms.

  Vero had grown significantly already. It amazed me every time; the rapid growth of supernatural children, especially the shapeshifters. Vero, like Lesya and Rian—Brevyn caught up after he received a dragon-sidhe essence from my fey mother—was influenced by his beast. My little wolf pup had put on five pounds in a week! For those of you who know nothing of babies; that's insane. A human baby usually gains 1-2 pounds a month. Vero also had a head full of dark curls and his eyes had settled into a golden-honey color, identical to his father's. Trevor couldn't be more proud.

  And he was sharing that joy with his wolf.

  “Our son is perfect, Mate,” the Wolf suddenly surfaced; Trevor's eyes shining with the gleam I'd come to recognize as an announcement of the Wolf's arrival. “We have begun to form our pack.”

  “Our pack was formed a long time ago,” I chided him before I leaned forward and kissed him hello above our giggling son.

  The Wolf growled low in his throat; an aroused sound. “Yes. But this is our son. He is our pack within a pack.”

  “That's a lot of packing,” I teased him.

  Then I leaned down and kissed Vero's belly. We had just bathed him so he was only in a diaper and his rounded belly was a hard target to resist.

  “And there shall be more,” the Wolf declared as he swept up Vero and moved back to sit against the glass wall. “Come here and sit with me.”

  The Wolf moved the gurgling baby to the crook of his left arm and motioned me forward with his right. I grinned and eased up to nestle against his side; propping a pillow on the cool glass that separated our bedroom from the Butterfly Garden. A few butterflies floated beyond the clear barrier but most of the garden was concealed by a thick growth of tropical trees and plants that grew just outside the window. It was a perfect backdrop for the Wolf and his son. My wild family.

  The Wolf's arm went around me and pulled me in against his chest, and I laid my right hand on Vero's head. The solid expanse of muscle beneath my cheek lifted and fell in a deep, satisfied breath before the Wolf bent his head to nuzzle Vero and me together. He let out a long rumble of satisfaction, and Vero rumbled back in a softer tone. This amused the Wolf to no end.

  “Ve have problem,” Kirill announced as he strode into the room.

  The Wolf started to growl, and Vero went still.

  “Easy now,” I said gently to the Wolf. “You have your son right there and I'm here; we're all safe.”

  As much as Vero's birth had deeply satisfied the Wolf's alpha instincts—the instincts that had been threatened by the way Trevor had let his dominance slide for years—Vero had also called forth the Wolf's protective nature. I'd thought he was possessive before, but with Vero in the mix, the Werewolf Prince had moments in which he threatened to go savage. I'd quickly learned to calm him as soon as he began to show signs of irritation.

  The Wolf angled his head into my hair and breathed in deeply; his body shuddering on the exhalation. Then he pulled back enough for me to look in his eyes. I stroked his silky hair soothingly.

  “I love you more than the Moon, Mate,” the Wolf whispered. “But I have to recede now.”

  “It's okay, honey; I know you're always here, even when Trevor is in control.”

  The Wolf smiled, kissed me, and then faded back into Trevor's subconscious. A blink and Trevor was in charge again. He kissed my cheek and then bounced Vero.

  “How's my little pup?” Trevor blew a raspberry on Vero's belly, and our son giggled in delight.

  “Are ve good now?” Kirill moved to the end of the bed warily.

  “Da,” Trevor mimicked Kirill's accent. “Ve good.”

  “You both need to come downstairs.” Kirill didn't even grin at Trevor's teasing. “Apollo is here vith his sister and Torrent.”

  “Apollo?” I asked as I sat up.

  “What's he want?” Trevor asked as he slipped out of bed with our son.

  We started heading for the elevator.

  “He has problem with missing muses,” Kirill's Russian accent and his serious expression made the silly sentence sound ominous.

  “Missing muses,” I murmured. We got in the elevator, and I leaned over to tickle Vero while I brightened my tone, “Lions, and Wolves, and missing Muses, oh my!”

  Vero squealed.

  That finally made Kirill smile. “He is happy baby; like Lesya.” Kirill stroked Vero's soft curls.

  “I didn't expect him to be,” I confessed. “So silly really; for me to expect Vero to be a somber child just because he was so quiet within the womb.”

  “You had that glimpse of him in the future,” Trevor pointed out. “That probably influenced you too.”

  “Yes, but a grown man's personality has nothing to do with what he was like as a baby,” I reasoned. “Things like stoicism and cynicism are learned; a child isn't born with them.”

  “Thank the Moon for that.” Trevor smiled down at our son. “I want him to be happy, Minn Elska. Carefree, even.”

  “He will be,” I vowed. “This time, he will be.”

  “You said Vero vas a lot like you in zat future,” Kirill reminded me as he opened the elevator door.

  We all stepped out and headed for the dining hall.

  “He was,” I agreed. “He was a hunter. I was very proud of him, but I still don't want him to live like that.”

  “Vero can be hunter and happy,” Kirill insisted. “You don't have to go in opposite direction and turn him into someone like”—Kirill stopped and stared into the dining hall as he whispered—“Apollo.”

  We all stared at Artemis' twin brother. Kirill didn't have to explain what he disapproved of. We all knew how annoyingly self-centered and recklessly carefree Apollo is. I glanced back at Vero and then up at Trevor with a heavy look. No; we didn't want that. Kirill was right; we couldn't coddle Vero either. That could go badly.

  Ugh; parenting is hard. Maybe I should buy a book.

  Apollo wasn't annoying or self-centered this time. He rushed forward when he spotted me; his expression one of pure panic. “Vervain, I need your help. You're an Olympian; you gotta help me. Call your Squad! Where are your other men? Get them all in here! I need the Lions, the Wolves, the Dragons, and any other magical creatures you can conjure up.”

  “Ease down, Brother.” Artemis put an arm around her brother and led him to a seat at the table. “V will help; you don't have to throw her Greek ties in her face. That's just gonna piss her off.”

  “Do I need to call in the Squad?” I asked Artemis. “And the rest of my family is outside at the pool. I can ask them to come in as well if this is that important.”

  “It is that important!” Apollo shouted.

  “Let's tell Vervain what's happened first,” Artemis said to her brother and then subtly shook her head at me.

  “What's this about missing Muses?” I asked as I sat beside Apollo.

  “I've been in Bora Bora for the past month,” Apollo started. “I just returned yesterday, and I can't find the Muses anywhere; even their connection to me is muted. I tried to follow it and just come up against a hazy wall.”

  “Tell her about the note,” Artemis prompted him.

  “They left me a note; they always do, even when I'm gone. You know; just in case I come home early. But I don't know how long the note has been sitting there.”

  “You live together?” Trevor asked.

  “They're my muses,” Apollo said in a duh tone.

  “What did the note say, Apollo?” I refocused him.

  “It said that they'd gone out clubbing and would be back in the morning.”

  “They went out clubbing?” I asked.

  “Yeah; dancing,” he clarified. “You know; in a nightclub.”
/>   “I know what clubbing is, Apollo,” I growled. “I just meant; what else do you have? Do you know what club they went to?”

  Apollo frowned. “Before I left, they were talking about someplace they'd heard advertised on the radio. Some Indie scene. Something about a new artist everyone was talking about.”

  “An Indie club.” I looked at Torrent. “Can you work with that? Any way you can search recent radio ads?”

  “Sure,” Torrent said as his eyes focused on something above our heads. “Most radio stations are online now too. Do you know what area of the world this club is in?” He asked Apollo.

  “America,” Apollo said.

  “Seriously?” I grumbled. “Do you pay attention to these women at all?”

  “They're supposed to adore me, not the other way around,” Apollo muttered.

  “You need therapy,” I said dryly.

  “I've been gone a month, Vervain,” Apollo growled. “I'm sorry if I can't remember everything they said to me a month ago.”

  “Fair enough,” I conceded.

  “Can't you just track them with your dragon sniffer?” Apollo pulled a pair of panties out of his pocket. “I brought you Calliope's scent.”

  “After a month?” I grimaced at the panties; leave it to Apollo to bring me panties to sniff. If I didn't know Blue, I'd conclude that all Sun Gods were perverts. “No; not even a dragon can follow a scent that's a month old.”

  “I see stuff on TV where they have Bloodhounds following scents that are months and sometimes years old,” he protested.

  “Lies.” I shook my head. “In the best conditions—we're talking damp areas with heavy vegetation and no wind—Bloodhounds can possibly follow a trail three to four weeks old but that's iffy. A dragon's ability is better than a bloodhound's but if I have to track your muses through the Aether, we can just forget about it. Aether trails last three days at the most.”

  Apollo looked crushed. “I'm pretty sure they've been gone for more than three days; there was a bowl of rotten fruit on the table.”

  “If we can find out where they went, I can try to track them from there, Apollo,” I reassured him. “My dragon husband is here too, and he can help as well. But we need a starting point.”

  “I think I might have something,” Torrent said in surprise.

  We all focused on him.

  “What is it?” Apollo asked urgently.

  “There's a new nightclub that's been getting a lot of social media coverage,” Torrent said. “An astounding amount of coverage considering where this club is and that it only has one artist who plays there.”

  “Moonshine only had the Dark Horses for awhile.” I shrugged.

  “No; you don't understand,” Torrent protested. “This club only plays one artist's music. When he isn't onstage, they play his recordings.”

  “Nothing else?” Trevor asked in surprise.

  “There's no way people will go for that,” I scoffed. “The mere idea is absurd.”

  “And yet, this club has grown from a tiny shack into a monumental building set on over an acre of land.” Torrent's vivid green eyes focused on me. “V, the things people are saying about this place are unbelievable. They swear that once you hear the music, you'll never want to listen to anything else.”

  “That sounds like a drug.” Trevor's gaze narrowed.

  “Where is this fucking club?!” Apollo shrieked.

  Vero started to cry, and Trevor and I shot Apollo furious glares as Trevor stood up and started to bounce the baby.

  “It's okay, Son,” Trevor comforted Vero. “Apollo is upset because he lost some friends.”

  My son slowly calmed, and so did Apollo.

  “I'm sorry,” Apollo murmured. “I'm distraught.”

  “Ve can see zat,” Kirill said dryly.

  “You're sure the Muses are still alive?” I asked Apollo.

  “Yes; I can feel them, it's just faint.”

  “That's good; at least we know they haven't fallen prey to whoever has been killing gods,” I said.

  “Someone has been killing Gods?!” Apollo shrieked again.

  Vero resumed his crying.

  “I think I'll take him outside,” Trevor muttered and left.

  “I told you about this,” Artemis said to her brother.

  “You did?” Apollo blinked. “Oh, right. But I didn't think that it would affect me.”

  “Of course, you didn't.” Artemis sighed.

  “Where is this new club, Torrent?” I asked. “It sounds like a good place to start. Even if it has nothing to do with the Muses, I think we should investigate it.”

  “It does sound suspicious,” Kirill agreed.

  “It's in Portland, Oregon.” Torrent blinked and focused on the real world.

  “Well, that's a good place for a weird Indie club,” I noted.

  Chapter Seven

  The nightclub wasn't in the metropolitan portion of Portland; it was on the outskirts, in a hilly, heavily wooded, residential area. I would have thought that would be against some city law or something—to have a nightclub near people's homes—but there was a good amount of land between the club and the nearest home so I suppose they were just on the edge of a business zone and the buffer land kept the neighbors from complaining.

  We traced to the location using a photograph taken from the club's website. Kirill stayed home with the children, but all of my other men came along as well as the entire God Squad. My grown sons, Vidar and Vali, were in Asgard, looking after things for their father while he was helping me with the potential God Apocalypse, or Godalypse as I was calling it. Anyway, we were a large group who walked into the parking lot from the woods that abutted it. You'd think at least one human might have noticed us, but everyone there was focused on one thing; getting into the nightclub.

  “Sampo?” I asked as we stepped up to the club. “What kind of name is that; Brazilian?”

  I hadn't bothered to ask Torrent for the name of the club before we left; I didn't think it was important. But now, staring up at the temple-like structure of soaring white stone nestled among the gigantic spears of pine trees, the name seemed significant. Humans strode into the building dressed in a wide variety of clothing; from hipster to hippy and goth to glamorous. Despite the differences in their appearances, none of the patrons seemed to notice. They spoke to each other in muted, peaceful tones; smiling radiantly as they made their way inside. Music softly pulsed out every time the door opened but it was a muted sound; serene, even.

  “Sampo?” Odin stopped and gaped up at the elegant sign done in backlit, cutout metal; very rustic.

  “There's a Finnish story about a magical device called the Sampo,” Torrent supplied helpfully.

  “Yes,” Odin murmured with wide eyes. “That's the one. The Sampo was made by Ilmarinen, the Eternal Hammerer.”

  “A hammerer, eh?” I glanced at Thor and then looked up at the forged sign. “What's this device supposed to do?”

  “It was similar to the Cornucopia.” Odin blinked as he came out of his shock. “Nothing nefarious. It was a mill that would grind out flour, salt, and gold.”

  “How does an abundant mill relate to a nightclub?” I muttered. “What do they grind out in there?” I blinked as my mind went to a naughty place. “Never mind.”

  “What happened to the Sampo?” Horus asked.

  “The Finnish Gods fought over it.” Odin made a face. “Some say it was destroyed, some say it was lost at sea during a battle between Ilmarinen and a sorceress goddess named Louhi, also known as Loviatar. The Hammerer had a couple of gods helping him, if I recall, but none of them ever confirmed what happened.”

  “Vainamoinen and Lemminkainen helped Ilmarinen attempt to retrieve the Sampo,” Torrent supplied again. “Lemminkainen is the Trickster God of Conjuring and Conjugality.”

  “Sounds like someone I could hang with,” Pan declared with a grin.

  Horus smacked Pan on the arm with a casual movement perfected from years of practice.


  “And Vainamoinen is the God of Chants, Poetry, and—”

  “Songs,” Odin finished with a tone of revelation.

  “How much you wanna bet that this Vai-guy is the up-and-coming artist?” I asked with a grimace.

  “Vai-guy is a good guess!” Torrent beamed at me. “Vai is the name of the musician.”

 

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