“Doc,” Zach said, answering the phone with a smile. “Having a good spring break?”
“Having a terrible spring break,” Jason snapped over the phone. “Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you and June for days.”
“Woah now,” Zach said. “My phone’s been silent and June left her’s at home. Something happen?”
“The rest of The Pantheon got off a plane in Miami and hour ago.”
“Aren't they supposed to be there until Saturday?”
“Things change. There was a serial killer in their hotel. Celene thinks it was a Titan. It knew her name.”
Zach rubbed his jaw. He was taking June's advice and growing a beard. He hadn't shaved since the wedding-- which was only a few days ago-- but it looked like two weeks' growth for a normal man. “Which name?”
“The really old one.”
Zach set the canned drinks on the roof of his car. “Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah, they're all fine. Evan got the power back on in the hotel. We're having a meeting in two hours, once everyone can get away from their doting parents. Where are you? Are you even in town?”
“I'm forty minutes out. June and I are just coming back from Savannah. We eloped.”
“What?!? I'm not touching that with a ten foot pole right now,” Jason grumbled. “We've got a Titan looking for us and someone on the mortal side here trying to blackmail me.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Get in town and meet at Celene's at nine. I gotta go. Someone's calling.”
“Alright. I'll see you soon, Doc.”
Zach hung up the phone. June stepped out of the gas station, her red hair fanning out behind her in the wind. She hadn't put it up in its high ponytail for days. She looked genuinely relaxed as she smiled at him. Her smile faltered. “What's wrong?”
“We have a meeting in two hours. Something bad went down in Greece and someone here knows about us.”
Zach went around to the driver's side of the car. As he passed by the box truck, June saw someone step out and strike him on the back of the head. Zach went straight down and June screamed. The man who had attacked him just smiled. “Does that help? Screaming? Do people want to get involved?” he asked her.
June tried to focus on his face, but it was ever-shifting. His nose grew and shrank and hooked and flattened. His eyes flashed between blue and black and brown and green. There was no way that he was human.
“Come on, Hera,” the attacker said. “I haven't got all night. What is it, two hours until your friends realize you're missing?”
June put her fists up, but she glanced behind her. Could she make it back into the store fast enough? Could she leave Zach, her husband, behind?
He lunged. She swung her fist and struck him across the eye. His head jerked back from the blow. She had never hit anyone like that before, and June was surprised at how much it hurt. Her knuckles throbbed. She hesitated. He lunged forward and grabbed her, pinning her to the side of the green Roadster. With one hand pinching her nose and covering her mouth and his body holding her still, he waited. She struggled to breathe, watching the skin shift around the split skin on his cheek. Her lungs ached and she tried to kick her feet, but he held her down. The edges of her vision darkened and June Herald Jacobs lost consciousness.
“Have a good breakfast men, for tonight we dine in Hades!'”
-King Leonidas
xvi.
Patrocles went into battle wearing the
distinctive armor of the great Achilles.
In doing so he painted a target on
his very own back.
When the body of his cousin was returned,
the hero Achilles was filled with anger
and swore vengeance on Hector, who had slain him.
It was his duty.
But Odysseus, seeing the hero's rage,
went to him and advised Achilles to wait.
So he granted his men a full day of rest
to prepare to fight.
“A good decision is based on knowledge and not on numbers.”
-Plato
XVI.
Peter Hadley slid his key into his front door and entered the house. He dragged an old, beat-up, gray piece of rolling luggage behind him. The bag thunked as he dragged it up the carpeted stairs. He set it down in the hall and turned to look into the living room. His father was asleep in the arm chair, drops of beer clinging to his wild beard. Peter set his keys on the table. His father started up.
“What? Why are you home? It’s not Saturday.”
“We came home early,” Peter said.
“I paid for a week.”
“You didn’t pay for anything, remember?” Peter went into the kitchen and got a glass of water. He leaned on the door frame and watched his father rub his eyes and search the chair for the remote to the TV.
Was he going to ask why they came home early? Didn’t the school call him? Peter sipped his water and waited for his father to ask questions. No questions came.
“Why aren’t you at work?” Peter asked.
His father’s face darkened. “Son-of-a-bitch would rather hire illegals than pay me an honest wage.”
“You lost your job?”
“They say we should build a fence. Well the fence won’t stop ‘em from coming on rafts, will it?”
Peter sat down on the couch. He didn’t think that immigration had anything to do with his father’s firing. More like inebriation.
“But it’s okay. You have a job,” his father said.
Peter set down his glass of water. “I’m seventeen.”
“And? A job is a job. I was feeding myself when I was your age.”
“I have school. I don’t work full time.”
Peter watched his father’s fist tighten and swallowed. Surely he remembered the tape? He wouldn’t dare hit Peter now.
“You’ll need to sober up and look for another job,” Peter said. “I can’t pay the rent.”
“You ungrateful little asshole.”
“I make minimum wage.”
“Then ask for a raise.”
“You’re supposed to be the adult in this house!”
Mr. Hadley took a swing. He was too drunk and missed, hitting the wooden frame on the couch. He cursed and took another swing, but Peter had ducked under his arm. Peter turned invisible, slipping away while his father shouted and stomped around. He made it out the front door and closed it behind him just in time for his phone to ring.
“We’re having a meeting,” Penny said.
“Alright. Uh... I need a ride.”
“Alright. I’ll call Astin and Diana to get you on their way. They’ll be at your house--”
“No. Not my house. Have Astin come to the gas station.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Sure,” Peter said. “I just need an energy drink. You know, jet lag.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Thanks, Penny.”
Jason paced in front of the door at Celene Davis' house. Eleven kids had arrived and were sitting around, whispering about the serial killer in the hotel. Devon held her baby-- now with a buzz-cut-- and tried to keep him quiet. They were all still waiting for Zach and June. They should have been there twenty minutes ago.
Lewis checked traffic reports on his phone. He set it down a bit too hard on the coffee table and shook his head. “Traffic’s clear this leg of I-95 and he won’t pick up.”
“Maybe their car broke down in a dead zone,” Evan suggested, breaking away from the group and approaching Jason. “Like, no cell service. Back woods Georgia.”
“They weren't that far out,” Jason mumbled. He had the sinking feeling that something bad had happened.
“You said he didn't answer his cell all week,” Nick suggested from his spot on the couch. “Maybe he's just blowing you off.”
“We're not going to accomplish anything just waiting for Zach,” Minnie said. “There are thirteen of us here. That's enou
gh to start. We'll fill him and June in when they get here.”
Jason sat down in the grey, plaid arm chair. He took a deep breath. Everyone sat down. “We've got a whole handful of problems,” Jason said. “Including a Titan in Athens who knows who we are and a blackmailer here in Miami.”
“Blackmailer?” Diana asked. “Someone knows?”
“He knows a lot. And he called me when I got off the phone with Zach earlier. He wants to meet tonight.”
Celene shook her head. “Meeting with him just confirms that we have something to hide.”
“Celene, he says he has photos. I don't think he's bluffing.”
“There's a Titan trying to kill us and you want to go out to meet some stranger this late at night?” The sun had already set. Daylight was not on their side.
“Ten, to be exact,” Jason said. “And he wants me to bring our leader. That's why I need Zach.”
“I'll go,” Minnie said. “I mean, in Zach's stead. I know I'm no Zeus, but I am the strategist. I'll have to be good enough.”
“I'll go too,” Devon said.
“No way,” Frank said.
Devon shook her head. “Listen, if someone with ten-ton muscles shows up, the guy will get spooked. Let me go. I can put him in a haze if we need to, throw him off his game.”
“Are we sure we need to do this tonight?” Celene asked.
“He's talking about selling it to the press,” Jason said. “So yeah. We need to go tonight.”
“Then the rest of us stay here,” Celene said. “If there's a Titan out there, I don't want you all alone at home.”
“Our mom is going to freak. We just got back from Greece,” Astin said.
“I'm more worried about your lives than your mom,” Jason said. “Come up with an excuse.”
Jason stood up and pulled his keys out of his pocket. He had to be at the rendezvous with Spade in twenty minutes. He didn’t have time to argue. “Alright. Minnie, Devon, let's go. We're going to be late.”
“False words are not only evil in themselves, but they infect the soul with evil.”
-Socrates
xvii.
Hippolytus rejected the domain of
the prideful sea-foam goddess, Aphrodite.
As often happens when man rejects the gods,
she got her revenge.
His father had married a handsome woman,
and she, Phaedra, was struck with overwhelming
desire for the man she was to call son.
He rejected her.
Driven to madness by unnatural love,
most poisonous in its unrequited form,
Phaedra charged that the object of her desire
had claimed her by force.
The father, Theseus, was a great hero
who had won three wishes from Lord Poseidon.
Upon hearing these accusations of rape,
he cursed his own son.
Lord Dionysus carried out the sentence
and sent a wild bull to torment the son's horse.
Spooked, the horse fled in absolute terror and
dragged the boy to death.
“What it lies in our power to do, it lies in our power not to do.”
-Aristotle
XVII.
Jason stepped out of his old Buick. Julius Spade waited just inside the fence to the playground, his un-intimidating frame silhouetted by the buzzing yellow fixture that lit up the jungle gym. Moths flitted around the lamp, casting wide, soft, dancing shadows on the bark mulch spread below the playground equipment. Minnie and Devon ducked down in the car and watched from just over the edge of the window.
“Alright,” Jason said. “I'm here. Let's negotiate.”
“I'm gonna cut right to the chase, Livingstone. I know one of your kids is Senator Wexler's boy. So I'm not expecting chump change.”
“Money,” Jason said, with an edge of dark laughter in his voice. “So this all comes down to money. You've got the secret of a lifetime and you're willing to let it go for a little money.”
“It's not that little,” Spade said. He held out a folded piece of paper. Jason hesitated and took it. “But yeah,” he said. “It can all go away.”
Jason opened the paper. $25,000. It was a lot for Jason, but not much for such a big scoop. Couldn't he get more from The National Enquirer for the story? They paid millions for first photos of celebrity babies, and these were kids with superpowers. Something wasn’t right with the number. Maybe Spade didn't think they'd even look at his evidence. Maybe he didn't think he had a story.
“You're serious?” Jason said. “Senator Wexler is worth fifty-six million dollars and you only want twenty-five grand?”
“I don't need much. But you, you need this to go away.”
Jason looked back at the paper. It wasn't like Spade could retire on this amount, or even take a year off of work. Jason wondered if this was evidence that he should call his bluff. Maybe the photos weren't that great, or maybe... “This won't be the end of it, will it? You're only asking for twenty-five because you know Teddy can't get this much without going to his father. But you'll be back. You're not going to let it go away, are you?”
“Right now I'd like a new car,” Spade said, smiling. “We'll see what my tastes are further down the road. You've got that much, don't you? You've got a saving's account with some life insurance from Mrs. Livingstone. Heck, you can't even buy your daughter a semester at a private college for that.”
Jason's fist slammed into Spade's mouth. Spade staggered back, grabbing his lip as blood pooled in his palm. Jason advanced on him again, pushing him and swinging at him. Spade was a private investigator: he'd had his experience with fights. Once he recovered from the shock of realizing that he'd pegged Jason all wrong, he blocked Jason's swing and socked him in the gut.
Minnie saw Jason draw his fist back for the first strike and sprang from the Electra. She blew past the fence and threw her shoulder straight into Spade's side. Her roller-derby check sent him sprawling on the playground bark. Devon wasn't far behind.
“You brought kids?” Spade shouted from his position on the ground. Blood dripped down his chin and spotted his brown coat.
“Yeah,” Minnie scowled, “The same kids you're blackmailing. Stay down.”
“We're not kids,” Devon added. “We're eighteen.”
Jason coughed from the blow to the stomach and put his hand on Minnie's shoulder. “Thanks,” he said. “I kind of lost it.”
Spade spat at Jason, who stepped back and dodged the glob of saliva mixed with blood. “I've got video of your little blonde friend turning that body into sod this summer. I've got photos of the center beating that guy’s face in. You don't think I can get someone to pay for it? It might take me a year, but I'll do it. I’ll monetize it on YouTube if I have to. Then they'll come for you and your freaks. You'll wish you'd just paid me.”
Devon crouched down beside Spade. He stopped talking and stared at her with blank eyes.
“Mr. Spade, right?”
He nodded. “You can call me Julius.”
“That's sweet,” Devon said. She placed her hand on his cheek. “You know that I'm not a kid, right?”
“You certainly don't look like one.”
“No, I don't. And I've just had a baby, so my hormones are really not in balance right now.”
Spade nodded. Jason watched hesitantly, wondering if he should interrupt. Was it worth the risk to let Spade go? Would paying him off ever end this?
“Which is why,” Devon continued, “You'll have to forgive me.” She pressed forward and kissed him. It was brief and Jason could see the disgust on her face as she pulled away. “Go kill yourself.”
“Devon!” Jason shouted. “No!”
Devon stood up and spun around. “He's not just threatening me, he's not just threatening you. I have Xander to think of now, so if he insists on blackmail, he leaves me no choice.”
“We're not murderers.”
“Call it self-defense.”
“Devon, there's a better way to do this,” Minnie said. “You could order him to destroy the evidence.”
“So he can follow us around and find more? My power has a short time-frame: it's not that strong. If it wears off before he can get to the photos, it won't do us any good. This is the only way to be sure.”
“I thought you'd learned something this summer,” Jason barked.
“About what? About responsibility? I'm a mother now, Doc. I've got to worry about more than just being able to sleep at night. I thought you'd understand.”
“Take it back,” Jason said. Spade had gotten up and wandered off while they argued, and Jason looked around wildly for him. “Don't do--” Jason's phone rang. “What now?” he growled.
It was an unknown number. Devon planted her hands on her hips and watched Jason. He cursed and slid his finger across the screen to answer his phone.
“Hello?”
The line was quiet for a minute before someone with a voice like nails on a chalkboard spoke. “Is this the mortal speaking?”
“Who is this?”
Jason's question was met with cold laughter. “You know who this is. I'm the reason your masters are holed-up together, shaking in their boots, pet.”
“I'm nobody's pet.”
“Doesn't matter. You're going to do something for me.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I have your friends Zeus and Hera here. They're taking a little nap.”
The Blood of Athens Page 9
