by S. E. Babin
“I think we need to bring a healer in.”
Marshall scoffed. “A healer? We have these handy things called hospitals scattered around Asheville.”
It was my turn to scoff. “A hospital? Really? I’m sure some local doctors would love to get their hands on a god.”
Anger filled me at the ridiculousness of the situation. Keto laid a halting arm on me, and I turned to him. His quiet strength calmed me. “Marshall, we can’t send him to a hospital. We’re different. It would be a huge mistake.”
Marshall said nothing for a long while but finally nodded. “So…a healer?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m sure this means more mumbo jumbo I don’t understand.”
Artie, who had followed us back and stood silently in a corner of the room, spoke up. “I think we should call Asclepius. He’s the person who has the best chance of healing him.”
I nodded, my thoughts grim. Hermes hadn’t spoken since they’d laid him on the bed. His wound was still oozing heavily and if possible, the pallor of his skin was increasing. “Call him,” I said and stepped away from the bed. Keto took Marshall by the arm and guided him away.
Asclepius was a strange man and it was difficult for me to be in his company. Although he was a god, he’d started out mortal. His healing abilities attracted the notice of Zeus – not always a good thing. Zeus ripped him away from his mortal life, instilling in him the gift of immortality. It had changed him. And not in a good way. Asclepius’ immortality had gifted him with greater curiosity because now he had the time to experiment. The last I’d heard about him was that he was experimenting with necromancy, something sure to earn him a death sentence if he was successful. I was wary around him, as were the other gods, but it was likely Asclepius’ gifts were needed this time.
Artie lifted her hands up toward the room’s small ceiling. Her eyes glowed white and a small wind picked up, swirling around her feet and long skirts. “Asclepius,” her voice rang out clear and strong. “Attend to us on Earth.” It was possible he wouldn’t come. Arrogance had replaced his former humility, garnering the disdain of most of Olympus. No one could deny his gifts, but it was difficult to be around him for any length of time.
We waited a few moments, the only sound that of the wind and snapping of Artie’s hair crackling with magic. A voice soon rang out through the room, startling us all.
“Who dares ask for my help on earth?” Asclepius may have been born here, but he no longer recognized it as his home.
Artie dropped her hands, her eyes becoming the brilliant purple I knew them to be. She bowed to Asclepius, merely a show to appease him rather than as an honor. That meant a lot to me because no one should have to bow to that wretch, but time was of the essence.
“I did, Asclepius. Hermes is gravely injured and we need your assistance. We thought only your gifts would be strong enough to save him.”
Artie was doing a fantastic job of bowing and scraping. I owed her big for this one. Violet eyes met mine and she gave me a tiny wink. The wench knew it too. I wondered what I’d have to give up for this one. The moment of levity was over almost as soon as it had begun because Asclepius scoffed and shuffled over to see Hermes.
Immortality had not been kind to him. Most of the children of Olympus were beautiful. Asclepius had not been attractive as a human, and he was most certainly not attractive as a god. He was a man of short stature, his robes dragging every step of the way. He looked much like a child would dressed in an oversized bed sheet. Of course this was something I would never say to him if I ever wanted to call on him for assistance again. A beaked nose protruded over thin lips and beady eyes rested under hooded eyelids. The sagging flesh of his arms was prominent as he bent down to examine Hermes.
He clucked a few times and peered closer at the chest wound. “Hmmm,” he said and straightened. “Now, tell me why I should help the lot of you.”
I bristled at his brusque demeanor. My time on earth had taught me some things about medicine, and one was that no doctor or nurse worth their salt turned away someone who needed help. I opened my mouth to say as much, but one look from Keto quelled my retort.
Artie, much the diplomat in this relationship, stepped forward toward Hermes and sat lightly down beside him. “You are aware Hermes is Zeus’ son?”
He nodded once, the arrogant look turning wary. Artie smiled slightly. “And you are also aware of Hermes’ role on Olympus as Messenger God? A powerful force of Zeus and one who holds a formidable role in his court? Are you also aware that this god lying grievously injured is one of the few favored sons of the King of the Gods?”
Asclepius paled, realizing he had overstepped his place. Artie bared her teeth at him, sending chills down my spine.
“Good,” she said. “I’d hate for you to be educated if word returned to Zeus you failed to help his son when you were given the chance.”
Asclepius swallowed audibly and clicked the lock on his briefcase, no doubt loaded with medical tools to assist him in his work.
“Aye, Artemis.” He bowed and said no more, instead turning toward Hermes. He gestured for one of the chairs in the corner of the room and I hastened to bring it to him. I shot a glance at Keto, who had stood up straighter and was wearing a look of pride mixed with what suspiciously looked like love. I stifled a grin. Artie had a spine of steel, and when she chose to show it, greater men than Asclepius backed down.
Hermes lay still as death and failed to move even when Asclepius prodded the wound in his chest. Mumbling under his breath, he rummaged through his case and pulled out a vial of glowing blue liquid. I knew close to nothing about medicine, so I had no idea what he was about to do. I did know that I probably didn’t want to watch too closely, though.
I stepped out of the room and made my way back toward Marshall’s living area. I felt more than saw him follow me, but I chose to ignore him. I needed to sit and gather my thoughts about everything. Hermes’ injury set us back some and we were still in the dark about the information he had gleaned while he’d been back in Olympus.
I sat down in his recliner, sensing it was his favorite seat. I sank into the deep leather and inhaled Marshall’s comforting scent. I needed all the comfort I could get right now. Once I settled in, I turned my gaze to him. He smiled at me, a hesitant gesture and one I wasn’t used to seeing on his face.
“You look human,” he remarked. I wasn’t sure quite how to take that comment. I felt human right now, the weight of thousands of years coming down on my shoulders. We might be immortal, but it didn’t mean there was no threat of mortality hanging over our heads. Although it was difficult to kill us, Hermes’ wound would have killed him if he hadn’t made it back to us in time.
I stared at him, unsure of what to say. The air crackled with tension and something else I couldn’t identify. I sank further into the seat, feeling some comfort which had been missing since I began this crazy venture. His smell hovered around me, teasing my senses.
“This is my fault,” I finally said, breaking the awkward silence. “I knew sending him back to Olympus was dangerous, but it was the only thing we could have done to make progress. As it is, I feel like we’re just running around with no clue about what’s going on.”
Marshall sat down on his couch, one leg crossed over his knee. His blue jeans were frayed and the loafers on his feet had seen better days. We’d interrupted him during one of his probably few days off. I tried not to feel guilty about it.
“I can’t tell you I understand the nuances of everything going on right now. What I do know is there’s a man in my guest bedroom fighting for his life, a man who would have died if you all had not stepped in to help. My guess is that Hermes didn’t have to return to you, but chose to do so, knowing you would be his best chance.”
“He came back to warn us,” I said. “By the way, sorry for popping in so unexpectedly.”
He chuckled. “It’s not every day you get three magical visitors teleporting into your house.”
I smiled, feelin
g a little better. “We’re not aliens. Aliens teleport. Gods and goddesses materialize.”
“Ah,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I’ll write that in my paranormal how-to booklet. So what was he there to warn you about?”
I wasn’t sure myself, but someone was onto us and knew what we were involved in, someone I couldn’t help but think was on Eris’ side. “I’m not sure, but he told us we needed to leave because we were found. Who found us, I have no idea, but his tone told us we needed to get the heck out of dodge and fast.”
Marshall’s brow furrowed. “So you came here? Why?”
It was a question I didn’t have an answer for. Three immortals flocking to a human police officer’s home didn’t seem normal, but it was the only place I could think of at the time. I told him as much, and shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with the look in his eyes.
“Hermes isn’t going to be happy when he wakes up, you know,” he commented.
I did know, but there was nothing else I could think of at the time other than fleeing. It was irrational – an immortal’s jealousy of a mortal. But Hermes was always observant, and the way Marshall was looking at me right now made me feel like he didn’t miss much, either.
“Well, we’re here and there’s nothing he can do about it.” The answer came out sharper than I intended. The lady doth protest too much. I felt safe around Marshall, a feeling that was crazy since I was the one possessed with superhuman powers. Marshall was just a man. A handsome, intelligent man but one with a mortal life span and nothing to protect him other than a metal handgun. I’d say instead of us being safer here, we had made a huge tactical error and placed Marshall in grave danger.
We both knew this, and yet I felt like I’d made the right decision at the time. A shuffling noise coming from the hallway made me turn my head. Artie and Keto entered the living room arm in arm and collapsed on the couch. Both looked exhausted. I couldn’t imagine what I looked like right now.
Artie flopped her head back and slung an arm across her face. “Hermes is resting now. Asclepius did what he could and wanted to make sure I told you not to disturb him until he wakes up on his own.”
“Did he say when he’d come to?” I asked. Hermes needed his rest, but we had to find Zeus as soon as possible.
Artie shook her head. “I’m not sure Asclepius knew. He wanted to know the origin of the wound, but Keto and I kept mum on everything. Of course, we don’t know how he was hurt, but we all know Eris probably had something to do with it.”
Keto said nothing. Tension etched his face and the look in his eyes bothered me. “Keto?” Something was on Bird Man’s mind and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.
“Don’t, Abby,” he ground out. “You don’t want to know what I’m thinking right now.”
I could feel his anger and see it in his tightly coiled body language, but I didn’t know why it was directed at me. Artie sat up straighter and stared at Keto, a frown on her face. She rested a hand on his arm. “It’s not her fault,” she said.
“My fault?” I echoed, unsure of what was going on.
“Yes, it is your fault, Abby.” Keto stood up abruptly, knocking Artie’s hand away. “Why must we always come to your rescue? Why can’t you ever follow the rules for once?”
Floored, I could say nothing. On one hand, he was right. Trouble seemed to follow me wherever I went, but nothing could have prepared me for the last few days. On the other hand, I had never been involved in a deadly game of cat and mouse like this. Keto knew this, but the only thing I could connect was that he was angry about Artie being involved. Endangering someone’s beloved is enough to send even the most stoic of men into a deep rage.
Artie took offense. “Keto, she didn’t ask me to help her. I volunteered. You were standing in the kitchen when we had this conversation. Artie is my best friend and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.”
Keto rounded on Artie, rage shaking his lean form. “Even die for her? Would you? Die for her?”
Her mouth rounded in an O of surprise and she turned startled eyes to me. I looked away.
Marshall stayed quiet, perhaps sensing it wasn’t his place to get involved. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know Artie’s answer. She was my best friend and I would never intentionally place her in harm’s way. But there were times when she threw herself on the knife for me. I felt guilty and humbled at the same time.
Artie’s shoulders slumped and she turned to face Keto. “Of course I would. I’ve no doubt Abby would do the same for me.”
Keto’s face shut down. “Would she?”
Tears pooled in my eyes. Keto’s judgment stung. I hadn’t known he felt this way about me. I was no coward, but maybe my actions or lack thereof over the last few years had made him see me in a different light.
“Enough,” Marshall barked. I gasped, shocked he would stand up for me. “This is not the time nor the place to have this conversation. I have three arguing gods in my living room and a wounded one in my guest bedroom. If anything, I should be the one having a nervous breakdown.” He stood up from his chair and raked a hand through his hair, leaving it mussed.
The tension in the room dropped several degrees. I let out a deep breath.
“Keto, I’m sorry. I wish I’d known you felt like that. But I don’t feel I need to defend myself to you. I love both you and Artie with all of my heart. I’d die for both of you. Maybe sometimes I’m self-absorbed. Maybe I don’t help out as much as I should. What I can do is assure both of you that there is no one else in the heavens or on earth I’d rather have by my side. You’ll have to take that at face value.”
Keto’s jaw tightened and he shook his head. Offering Artie one long look, he blinked out of the room. Artie trotted across the room and sat beside me. She laid her head against my shoulder and said, “Well that went well. Did we just break up?”
Marshall and I both laughed. “Keto loves you, Artie. No way did he just break up with you. I guarantee it. Bird Man will be back.”
She chuckled. “He hates it when you call him Bird Man.”
“Yeah, well, he apparently hates a lot of things I do. Once this is over, maybe we can hash them all out.”
“I hope it’s over soon,” she said.
“Me, too,” Marshall and I muttered at the same time.
11
Chapter Eleven
We spent a tense and awkward night at Marshall’s house. Keto didn’t return and I swore to myself I wouldn’t worry about where he was. Trouble was after us. There was no way to know if Eris knew Keto was now in our party, but it didn’t stop me from wondering if he were safe from her ire. Artie and I whipped up dinner in Marshall’s kitchen, and we piled around his kitchen table for a somber meal.
Marshall thanked us for cooking and stood up from the table to go into the kitchen. When he returned, he held a wine bottle, three glasses, and an opener. Artie and I grinned. Any time wine was involved we were in. He smiled back at us and opened the bottle at the table. We all pitched forward, eager to have our glasses filled. There was no missing Marshall’s lean fingers brushing mine as he bent forward to fill my glass.
My mouth went dry and when my eyes met his, my heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t mistake that gaze for anything other than what it was. I needed to get out of this house and back to normalcy as fast as I could. Marshall was spelling out nothing but trouble for my heart.
I felt a light kick on my ankle. Artie. She didn’t miss much, that was for sure. I dragged my eyes away from Marshall’s, offered a bright smile, and took a long fortifying gulp of wine.
“That’s no way to treat fine wine, sister.” Artie’s amused gaze lowered as she took a sip.
Marshall laughed aloud and I managed to relax a little bit. The dinner was still tense, but we managed to make small talk about things other than Eris and the apples. I hoped Hermes would wake up soon. I was anxious for answers, plus I wanted to make sure he was really okay.
Once dinner was over, Marshall volunteered to do the dishes –
another check in the positive department.
I tiptoed in to check on Hermes. Moonlight filtered through the open mini blinds, highlighting his golden hair. I sat in the chair closest to the bed and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. He looked vulnerable, a description not apt to suit most gods. In repose, his form was classically Greek. Black eyelashes clashed with the pallor of his skin and an aquiline nose met full lips, partially open. His breath was soft, a relief from the earlier panicked heaving breaths. A dull blue glow emitted from his bare chest and I leaned in closer to examine his wound.
Whatever Asclepius had done, he had done it well. As I watched, the edges of the wound pulsated with light and began to slowly close. I sobered as I thought how much worse everything could have been. Hermes might have died tonight. If I wasn’t on Zeus’ bad side now, I certainly would be if we had failed to convince Asclepius to help.
I closed my eyes for a second, my hand resting on Hermes’ shoulder. His skin was warm to the touch, something I wouldn’t have thought about before. After such a close call, it was a relief to know he was still here. It was difficult to see him so immobile, but I hoped tomorrow he would awaken and I could see those whiskey eyes again.
A soft rustle opened my eyes and I glanced at Hermes. A grimace of pain lit his features and those wonderful eyes fluttered open and alighted on me. A grin lit my face.
“Abby?” Hermes reached for my hand.
I grasped it, ecstatic he was awake. “Right here.”
He lifted his head from the bed and a groan of pain escaped him.
“Lie down,” I said. “You still have a long way to go before you get your strength back.”
“I need to tell you something.” He rested his head back on the pillow and licked his lips.
I reached over for the glass of water on the nightstand and offered him the straw. I lifted the back of his head so he wouldn’t have to use any muscles and he greedily slurped the water. Once he was satisfied he lay back against the pillow and sighed with frustration.
