by Amy Sumida
Odin chuckled into his coffee.
“Did you remember to text Athena last night?” I asked Azrael.
“Yep; she knows we're coming.”
“Excellent.” I sat down, and Kirill put a plate of pancakes and bacon before me. “Even more excellent! Thank you, honey.”
“You're velcome.” Kirill kissed my cheek before he took the chair next to mine. “Lesya, vipe your face.”
Lesya dragged the back of her hand across her face, smearing even more syrup over it as well as spreading the stickiness to her hand.
“Vith napkin,” Kirill amended.
Lesya tried again and got pieces of napkin stuck to her cheek. Rian and Brevyn giggled and so did I. Lesya beamed at us as if she'd done it all for our amusement and then went back to eating.
Kirill sighed deeply and sipped his coffee; he knew a losing battle when he saw one.
“She's going to need a bath before she goes swimming,” I said to Kirill.
Vero started to cry. If it wasn't for the spell I'd discovered back when I had my twins—the one that basically stoppered my breasts like corking a bottle—I would have leaked milk all over myself. Yep; nursing mothers leak. Either when they got too full or their baby cried; it's an automatic response. Just another gross thing you have to put up with when you become a mother. And another gross thing I was able to circumvent with magic. I must once again quote Harry Potter here; I love magic.
“You feed our son, and I'll bathe Lesya,” Trevor offered as he came over and handed me Vero.
Yeah; just forget about finishing meals if you plan on having children.
I got up and headed to the bed with the baby. Trevor brought me a breast pump and some bottles to fill while I was at it; he'd need a supply while I was gone. While I did that, the men got the other children ready for their day and then Trevor hustled them downstairs; one strong hand holding the handle of Vero's carrier as the other shooed the older children. Why did that look so damn sexy?
I suppose the things I found arousing had changed with motherhood. Now, a man looking after children turned me on. Oh, how my younger self would have cringed and despaired.
I let go of my lamentations as the rest of us headed downstairs to trace to Mount Olympus; home of the Greek Gods.
Chapter Fourteen
Athena, Ruler of Olympus, met us outside the tracing temple on the main level of the mountain. We barely exchanged greetings before she waved us after her, into residential streets of Olympus. Arach sniffed the salty air as he stared around the famous Greek mountain with interest. He had been a child when the path between Faerie and the other realms had been closed; the only god territories he's seen are the ones I've taken him to. Usually, it was for battle so this was a nice change for him. He got to sightsee without killing. Then again, maybe he missed the killing.
“Hades and Persephone are here too,” Athena announced as she rounded a corner.
“Yes; there seem to be quite a lot of missing Greeks,” I noted.
“And that makes this Greek business.” She nodded decisively. “Whatever we can do to help you, just let me know, and I'll take care of it.”
“We're looking for a War Goddess who possibly has power over death as well,” Odin immediately said. “Most likely someone who hates Vervain.”
“Interesting,” Athena murmured. “I'll see what I can find.”
Athena led us off the street and up a cobbled path crowded by a thick growth of plants. She absently pushed hanging fronds out of her way as she went; letting them go to spring back at me. I held my hand up as a makeshift shield with a grimace. Our footsteps echoed on the wooden veranda and then Athena opened the grand, white door and went inside a tall and narrow, Grecian home.
“This is Atis' house,” Athena said. “I asked around this morning and was told that he was last seen a few days ago.”
“Did he tell anyone where he was going?” Azrael asked.
“No; Atis keeps to himself.” She shrugged. “He's a vegetation god; he likes plants more than people.”
“All right; keep your eyes peeled for anything that looks suspicious or may give us a clue as to where he went,” Odin advised.
“I don't think I want to peel my eyes,” Arach whispered to me.
I just shook my head at him and laughed.
“That shouldn't be hard to spot.” Athena followed us deeper into the house. “As I said; Atis likes plants. Anything not plant-related is suspect.”
We searched rooms overflowing with plants; several wilting without their owner's care. Athena sighed when she saw that and muttered something about having the plants moved outside. I carried on and eventually made it up to Atis' bedroom. Tidy and sparse except for all the foliage; Atis had a bed and a dresser as his only pieces of furniture. I was easily able to catch his scent, but I'd have to wait until we returned to the tracing temple before I could attempt to follow it through the Aether. On the dresser, however, I found a pamphlet for the Portland Japanese Gardens. Portland, Oregon, to be precise.
I frowned at the glossy paper showcasing cherry blossom trees in full bloom, koi ponds full of gleaming fish, delicate maple trees, a tea house with rice paper walls, and moss-covered stone pagodas; the garden décor kind, not actual buildings. I picked up the brochure and carried it downstairs with me to meet up with the others. They were already lamenting the lack of evidence when I joined them.
“I found this.” I held up the pamphlet.
“Gardens.” Athena shrugged. “Yes; that would be something Atis would enjoy. How is that suspicious?”
“In itself, it isn't,” I explained. “It's the location of these gardens that caught my attention.”
“The port land.” Arach narrowed his dragon glare at the brochure. “Isn't that where the Sampo club is?”
“Portland, yes,” I confirmed.
Odin scowled. “That could just be a coincidence.”
“A coincidence?” Kirill asked in surprise. “Atis visited same town vhere Sampo is, and you call it coincidence?”
“It could be,” I said diplomatically. “But it's still evidence of where Atis went. This is the perfect time of year to see those gardens; the cherry blossom trees are in bloom.” I pointed out the mention of it in the brochure then slapped the glossy paper against my thigh. “Let's move on to the next house.”
Next was Thallo, Goddess of Spring Buds and Shoots. Her home was similar to Atis' except heavier on the flowers. Again, I caught her scent and filed it away to track later. We searched through her feminine, airy rooms and on her dining table, we found another brochure for the Portland Japanese Gardens.
I grimaced at Odin as I picked it up. “Still a coincidence?”
“Yes,” Odin insisted. “Now, you have two gods going to the Gardens. The Gardens are likely where they disappeared, not Sampo.”
“Fair enough.” I shrugged, but I collected the second pamphlet anyway.
“At least we have somewhere to go from here,” Re said.
“We still have one more place to search on Olympus,” Arach reminded us.
Athena took the lead again; showing us the way across the mountaintop to another neighborhood. This house was also done in a Greek style—as all homes on Olympus were—but it wasn't hidden by plants. In fact, it abutted the street; brash and in your face. We climbed a short flight of steps to the front door and strode into the open house. Most of the gods didn't bother locking their doors on Olympus; it wasn't as if they were going to steal from each other.
The interior looked like a bachelor pad. Black leather furniture, high-tech devices, and modern art combined with ancient statuary and the Greek bones of the house. A disco ball hung in place of a chandelier in the living room.
“Is that a bean bag chair?” I asked in horror.
“Who is this guy?” Toby echoed my tone.
“Comus is the God of Revelry,” Athena explained.
“Of course he is,” I said as I wandered over to the kitchen where empty liquor bottles littered
the counter. “Hold on.”
I pulled a slip of paper out from beneath a half-empty bottle of gin. A ring of moisture had blurred part of the flier but it was an ad for a club in Portland. A club whose name ended in; PO. I didn't say anything, just passed it to Odin.
He sighed deeply.
“If you try to tell me that there are other clubs in Portland whose names end in PO, I'm going to smack you,” I declared.
“No; this is Sampo,” Odin conceded. “Further down it mentions the new artist, Vai. I just don't understand. We searched that place and there wasn't a single shred of evidence to prove violence of any kind, much less against a god.”
“Could the missing gods have ventured into the club and tried to put a stop to the worship?” Arach asked. “That might have inspired violence toward them.”
“There would be no reason for them to do that,” Re protested. “No god would begrudge another non-violent worship.”
“Zen zere's fact zat most missing gods are Greek,” Kirill added.
“Do you know of any reason why the Finnish Gods would be targeting the Greek Pantheon?” I asked Athena.
“The Finns?” She made a flabbergasted face. “No; there's no bad blood between us. I don't think we've had much interaction with them at all.”
“As if there is such as thing as bad blood,” Arach muttered.
“You got his scent?” I asked Arach, and he nodded. “All right, let's do a quick sweep here and then head back to the tracing temple and see if we can follow these three gods through the Aether.”
We searched the house but didn't find any other clues. So, we left to navigate the neat rows of luxurious god homes to the tracing temple we'd arrived in earlier. Arach and I both tried to track each of the three scents but neither of us could follow them through the Aether.
“They've been gone too long,” I finally announced.
“The Aether has wiped all traces of their trails away,” Arach confirmed.
“Well, we can take a look around the Japanese Gardens next, as we planned,” Azrael said. “When we get home, I think it would be a good idea if you sent some lions to keep watch on Sampo, Carus.”
“They're already there, Az,” I said smugly.
“Vervain,” Odin groaned.
“You guys may think that what the Finnish Gods are doing is admirable, but it gives me the willies,” I lifted my chin as I spoke. “I sent some Intare out as soon as we got home.”
“Smart thinking, A Thaisce.” Arach nodded in approval. “Trust your instincts; there are things our beasts can sense that we cannot.”
“Indeed.” I smirked at him.
“So, back to Portland?” Re asked.
I opened one of the Garden brochures and pointed at a picture of a secluded copse of trees. “Right there; that's where we're going.”
With the picture firmly in our minds, we traced the Aether to Portland.
Chapter Fifteen
My men and I wandered down shifting gravel and then sturdy cement paths along placid pools with lazy waterfalls trickling into them. Cherry blossom trees added cotton candy puffs of pink to the otherwise muted landscape of soft greens, browns, and cream. The weather was perfect for a garden stroll; warm but not roasting with a cool breeze to tease my skin. That breeze carried the green scent of growing things laden with moisture. I could see why even Gods were attracted to this place.
Humans gawked at us. Even with a couple of them under glamours, my husbands and boyfriend are stunning men. Literally stunning; some women stopped walking to stare in frozen wonder at the parade of male beauty that strode by. Arach had his crimson hair toned down to auburn, his yellow eyes darkened to brown, and his scales were gone completely, but his alien, exotic beauty was impossible to hide. The same went for that regal bearing and sleek, predator body. Azrael had his wings tucked away and his sigil hidden but those robin's egg blue eyes, set against the darkness of his hair, were on full display, as was his powerful build.
Re had even covered his metallic gold skin and eyes with a glamour. A woman had once asked him where he bought his cosmetics and then if he stripped for parties. That had left a sour taste in the Sun God's mouth and inspired him to tone down the radiance a bit when we went out among humans. But a toned-down Re is simply a gorgeous real man. He went from being a fantasy man who only existed in dreams to a mouthwatering morsel of masculinity that a woman might actually get to touch. My other men didn't have to hide anything, but I was thinking that maybe they should. With Toby's romance novel Native American perfection, Odin's lumberjack body and celebrity eyes, and Kirill's... well, Kirill's everything, we were attracting a lot of attention.
No one even glanced at me.
But that's okay. I'd accepted long ago that my men outclassed me in the hotness department, and I was good with it. More than good; I was damn proud and grateful. They were mine after all; what was there to complain about? So, I smugly strode along between Azrael and Odin, holding hands with them both, as the others walked before and behind us like an honor guard.
It was easier to search a human location as opposed to one in the God Realm. In the God Realm, there are loads of god scents and traces of magic but in the Human Realm, they're far more scarce and therefore easier to spot. I breathed in deeply as we wandered, searching for anything that smelled familiar. I was hoping that this goddess who hated me so much had made an appearance. Surely she was someone I'd met before. In which case, I'd know her scent... hopefully. I don't actually store the scent of every person I meet. But I had made sure to remember the scents of the Finnish Gods. If any of those who I'd met last night had come to the Japanese Gardens, I'd know it.
When the path split, we split up. Kirill went with Toby, Arach with Re, and I stayed with Az and Odin. That way, every group had someone with a good sniffer. Kirill's nose may not be as sensitive as Arach's or mine, but he'd be able to find a scent without a problem, he just wouldn't be able to track it through the Aether. But that wasn't a problem; if he did find something, Arach and I would return to track the trail further.
We decided to meet at the Umami Cafe when we were finished searching. Between the seven of us, we could cover every trail in the place in no time. With my angel and my raven watching over me, I could concentrate purely on my sense of smell. I let go of every concern I had—even that of finding the missing gods—and just sank into my dragon nature. No distractions or anxiety; just primal instinct.
And I caught a familiar scent.
“Thallo was here,” I declared as I stopped and sniffed deeper. “Her scent is very strong.” I followed it a few feet. “And it sours.”
“Sours?” Odin asked.
“Fear,” Azrael whispered as he looked around warily.
“Exactly,” I confirmed as I searched with him.
We split up to comb through the area, searching the layers of terraced plants; manicured impeccably and spotted with Asian statuary. On the outskirts, soaring trees shaded the area and cast suspicious shadows. Up ahead, the cement path swelled up and over a curved bridge, but Thallo's trail didn't make it that far. I easily followed her movements through the garden—from the place she traced in to where she traced out—and then uselessly tried to smell her through the Aether. The trail was too old for that, but I did smell someone else I recognized.
“Strawberry Shortcake!” I cursed vehemently.
A little girl giggled as she was led past by her grinning mother.
“I'm going to use that one,” the mother called out to me approvingly.
“Please do; it's one of my favorites.” I smiled warmly at them and then waited for them to get out of hearing range before I said, “I smell Qaus.”
“Qaus?” Az asked in surprise.
“He was at Sampo,” Odin pointed out. “Perhaps he's been targeting this area and used the club as a hunting spot.”
“Or perhaps he's working with the Finnish Gods,” I shot back.
“Vervain, prejudice has no place in an investigation,” Odin chid
ed me. “You need to view the evidence with neutrality.”
“No; I need to go with my gut,” I argued. “And you're hardly one to lecture me, Odin. You're heading the opposite way with this and looking for excuses to not investigate the Finns further.”
“No; I'm not.”
“You kind of are,” Azrael said gently. “Were you friends with one of them?”
Odin sighed deeply. “I traveled a lot when I first became a god; just like the Vikings did. One of the places I visited was Finland. While there, I stayed with Ilmarinen. He extended his hospitality to me, and we became close friends. I even learned how to forge from him.”
