“You’re sure about the gold dust?” Paul asked.
“It would be ideal if I could confirm this in person, but since I’m not allowed on Mt. Olympus, I’m just relying on my guts.” I held my breath then asked, “You know what it could mean, right?”
Paul’s lips twisted into a smile. “I can’t think of any self-respecting immortal who wouldn’t.”
Oh, thank Gaea! I did get it right then. My body relaxing in relief, I asked, “Which of Midas’ casinos do you think Zeus would have visited?”
ALTHOUGH MIDAS’ GOLDEN touch hadn’t disappeared throughout the centuries, it had certainly tarnished over the years. Unlike his palaces of old, his modern-day casinos could only boast of gold-plated scrolls adorning the ceiling’s plasterwork. Fake gold was all around us, and if the grapevine was to be believed, his reduced powers were the result of Apollo’s divine punishment.
I asked Paul if he knew what the Phrygian king could have done to earn the Olympian’s wrath, but before he could answer, the doors to The Golden Court had already opened, and a woman in a glittering gown was welcoming us inside. I could tell she was a naiad just by her scent alone; she smelled of freshwater the way Mary Lou at reception bore the scent of forests.
Like all nymphs working for Midas, Adriana earned her keep by luring men in and sweet-talking them into spending their fortune on the tables. Unfortunately for Adriana, Paul was no gullible mortal, and so the tables (pun intended) were turned, with all of the women in the casino falling under the immortal’s thrall.
I guessed that took care of the women, but what about—-
Oh.
Paul had chosen one of the roulette tables to play in and right away won his first bet. A small crowd of men immediately swarmed around him, cheering, and its size more than doubled when Paul declared he was sharing his winnings with his loudly supportive fans.
Riiiiight.
With all eyes on the handsome detective, I quietly slipped away and headed straight to the back of the VIP area, where the security room was. There were several armed men inside, but thankfully they were all mortals, and so all it took was a quick aerial illustration of a spell symbol using my CSI-issued wand and all five men fell to the floor, fast asleep and snoring.
Since witches in training like me couldn’t yet cast spells on our own, we had to rely on agency standard tools to perform magic on the job. These tools were pretty efficient and easy to use, but the downside was that they also came with a limited-time effect.
And right now I had just about fifteen minutes before the guards woke up. After connecting my phone to the casino’s security system, I quickly made a call to Lana Spears, my agency-assigned partner in tech support.
“I’m in.”
“Understood. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
CSI might be a supernatural agency, but it didn’t mean we couldn’t rely on human technology if we had to. Anything that could be useful would be used, and in this case I needed to have Lana hack into the casino’s system so she could do her own kind of magic.
And yes, we did have to hack it since Midas was notorious for being uncooperative when it came to any kind of supernatural investigation. This, too, supposedly had something to do with Apollo, but the rumors had always been pretty vague and inconsistent when it came to actual details about their row.
“I have confirmation,” Lana said ten minutes later. I heard a series of quick taps on her keyboard, and a video file showed up on my phone. I clicked on the file, and I saw Zeus seated on one of the casino’s baccarat tables and surrounded by cheering onlookers. As he leaned forward to reach for his winnings, I saw a pretty brunette edge her way to the front of the crowd—-
There.
She had slipped something in his drink, and when Zeus turned to her, she murmured something to him that made the thunder god laugh heartily. He kissed her full on the mouth just before reaching for his glass and taking a swig.
Cast it.
I had just seen a woman successfully attempt to poison or brainwash the head of the Olympian pantheon, and I could only shudder in fear as I thought of what that person hoped to achieve.
PAUL ALREADY HAD HIS car running by the time I snuck out of the casino. I hurried to it as fast as I could, but I still ended up wet and shivering like a drowned little mouse when I finally got into the passenger seat. Zeus’ so-called mood swings had gotten worse in the past hour, and the sound of every raindrop striking the ground reminded me of a ticking bomb.
“Sorry for getting your car wet.” I glanced down at my wet clothes and almost gasped – my blouse was completely soaked and see-through, revealing the cotton cups of my bra. My head shot up, and my embarrassed gaze flew to Paul.
I saw his hazel eyes dip down, and my throat tightened.
Oh, Gaea bewitched.
That look could only be interpreted in one way.
Paul Theodore...was interested in me.
Chapter Five
“What did you find out?”
Paul’s voice was gentle and calm, and his hold on the steering wheel was relaxed. Both went a long way in helping me pretend that the embarrassing little episode ten minutes ago didn’t actually happen. I was completely dry now, thanks to Paul’s magic, and although I had to clear my throat a few times, I was able to answer him in a voice almost as steady as his.
“Lana’s already running an ID check on the woman’s photo,” I told him. “She’s promised to call me as soon as she gets results, and I also forwarded you a copy of the video in case your agency finds something first.”
“Thank you, Blair.”
The warm, approving glow in his hazel eyes me made feel breathless excited strange, and I muttered awkwardly, “I’m sure any other detective at INTERPOL could have done the same thing.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Most other INTERPOL officers wouldn’t even have made it past the entrance.”
“I don’t think so.” I was genuinely skeptical. “I’m just a Level 1 agent –”
“Exactly,” Paul said simply. “All of Midas’ casinos are for humans, and his security’s trained to keep high-level sups out of his hair. He doesn’t want any non-human interfering in the way he runs his business.”
“But you managed to get in,” I pointed out.
“I’m better at disguising my powers than most are.” Paul turned the radio on after speaking and I mentally dissected his words while keeping one ear out for the news. Was he able to disguise his powers by using a shield (which was a terribly expensive spell) or had he simply drawn everyone under his thrall (a natural-born ability that only immortals possessed)?
“And now, for this hour’s breaking news...”
The familiar sound of the messenger goddess’ voice had me sitting up while Paul tapped on his radio’s digital display to increase the volume.
No definite timetable for how long the mood swings would last...
Heavy flooding has now struck certain parts of New England...
Hurricane level may be upgraded to Category 4 if this continues...
Paul and I exchanged somber looks at the last piece of news. Category 4 meant that the wind gods were nearing at the end of their tether. We had to find out who that woman was – before Zeus ended up commanding his immortal liegemen to tear the world apart.
PAUL PICKED ME UP AT my place at exactly eight the next morning, dressed impeccably in another dark suit, and with a black umbrella in hand. He had insisted on this last night, telling me with one of his rare wicked smiles that he wasn’t the type to take no for an answer.
A good number of curtains on neighboring properties twitched tellingly at his arrival, and I was pretty sure I caught sight of Mrs. Murray taking a quick photo of Paul’s SUV from her second-floor bedroom window.
“Good morning.” Paul’s lips curved into a smile of unabashed appreciation as his gaze took in my unbound hair, long wet strands curling against my back. “You look beautiful.”
“It’s the clothes,” I felt obliged to
emphasize even as my cheeks turned pink. I was secretly (and foolishly) glad that I had taken extra effort with today’s outfit: a sleeveless lilac sweater worn over a collared lace blouse, a plaid skirt that conservatively fell well below my knees, and black, low-heeled Mary Janes to complete the look.
Paul laid a hand at the small of my back as soon as I finished locking the door and pulled me close under his umbrella while walking us to his car.
A little too close if you ask me, and I nearly fell into the passenger seat in my haste to put a bit of distance between us.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” Paul inquired as soon as he settled behind the wheel.
“I was thinking—-”
“So that’s a no,” he interrupted with a grin. “We’ll make a quick stop at Panda’s before I drop you off.”
“I can’t be late,” I warned even as warmth flooded me at his thoughtfulness. “I have a very strict boss—-”
“That sounds like Dike.”
My eyes widened. “She is my superior. Do you know her?”
“Just enough to promise I won’t have you late.”
He was doing it again, I thought in exasperation. Telling me everything without saying a single thing.
Paul parked his SUV by the curb and reminded me to lock my doors before making a quick dash to Panda’s. I glanced outside my window, and my heart grew heavy at the still darkened skies overhead. I personally loved the rain, and I usually loved the pitter-patter sound it made against the windowpane. This storm, however, was different. I just found it impossible to delight in it, knowing that this was nothing but a result of Zeus’ condition tampering with nature.
Paul returned soon after, and as he handed me my coffee and donut, he noticed the way my brows were furrowed and asked, “What is it?”
“I’m just worried about the storm.” I knew CIA, INTERPOL, and all the other agencies were doing their best to mitigate the damage, but I also knew that they were only buying humans extra time at best. The only way to solve this was to find a way to cure Zeus out of his mood swings.
“Were you able to get anything from the CCTV footage?” I asked Paul as he steered his SUV back to the road.
“It was a big help. I meant to tell you first thing but it slipped my mind. Facial recognition couldn’t find any match, but my agents had a hit with voice recognition.”
“How’s that possible?” I wondered if he realized he had just let slip how high up he was in hierarchy. MY agents, he had said, like he had a whole squad of them working under him.
“Our software was able to detect unnatural qualities in the woman’s voice,” Paul elaborated.
I tried to understand what he was saying. “Is she a banshee?” Such creatures had a distinctly high-pitched scream, and listening to any sound they make for more than five seconds was enough to make human ears bleed.
“Her voice,” he said meaningfully, “was unnaturally perfect.”
Comprehension dawned.
Our poison-administering Jane Doe was a siren.
“Does Dike know?” I asked as he drove the SUV into one of the parking slots in front of my office.
“That’s what I’m here for.”
What?
But Paul had already stepped out of the vehicle, and I could only watch with a sinking feeling in my stomach as he went around to open the door for me. This was not good.
“Come on out, agapoula mou.” Paul was grinning as he took my hand, leaving me no choice but to let him pull me out of the car. “You don't have to sound so worried.” Paul’s tone was full of sham innocence. “I promise I won’t do anything you could lose your job for.”
That was good to know, but what I was more concerned about was losing face, and as soon Paul opened the doors to let me in first, I immediately knew I was right to worry.
“Oh no!” Roseanne was careening straight at me, tottering in her high heels like she was about to lose her balance.
Chapter Six
With only a split-second to spare, I could only brace for impact. Been there, done that, I thought unhappily while mentally preparing myself for the look of pity I was sure to see on Paul’s face. Roseanne did so love throwing her weight around (literally), and she loved apologizing to me even more just so she could add in the end that it wasn’t her fault I was so small and skinny.
“Oh no, no, no!” Even with a fake look of horror on her face, Roseanne still looked as lovely as ever.
I squeezed my eyes shut, prepared to once again fly across the lobby, but instead I felt one strong arm curving around my waist.
YANK!
My eyes flew open as Paul hauled me out of Roseanne’s way, and my lips parted in silent horror as I watched the other woman screech as she skidded straight into the wall head first like a crazed, raging she-bull.
Cronos save her.
Paul looked down at me, asking blandly, “Is she always that careless?”
“Umm...” I had no idea what to say. As much as it pained me to admit this, Paul wasn’t the first guy to see how Roseanne loved to bully me. He was, however, the first one to actually do something about it, and while I was pleased about it—-
I also felt stupid and disappointed, realizing too late that I shouldn’t have let Roseanne get away with so much in the first place.
“Blair? Are you hurt anywhere?”
Paul’s soft question made me belatedly realize I was still leaning against him like some weak damsel in distress. My self-disgust grew, and I quickly pulled away from him, muttering, “Sorry.”
His hazel eyes turned thoughtful, but in the end he only nodded, saying politely, “It was nothing.”
The sound of angry stomping had us both turning around, and we saw Roseanne angrily heading towards our direction, her face an ugly shade of red.
I prepared myself to confront her once and for all, but Paul beat me to speaking.
“I apologize for the accident.” Paul’s velvety smooth voice had my eyes widening. Was it just me or was he acting like he could charm Roseanne out of her bad temper? “I hope you weren’t terribly hurt?”
There was a second of silence—-
And then I heard Roseanne simper, “Oh, it’s fine.”
My head snapped back to him. It’s fine? I once saw an intern accidentally misspell her name in a report, and the CIA agent had ripped into her like the girl had committed murder. And now that very same woman was saying everything was fine even though Paul’s quick reflexes had caused her to sport a huge, swelling lump on her forehead?
I could only mentally shake my head as Roseanne batted her lashes like a coquettish Victorian throwback while introducing herself to Paul and afterwards gushing at how thrilled she was to meet a skilled detective like him.
By the time we headed up to CSI’s block of offices, leaving behind a certain CIA agent who was alternately ogling Paul and glaring at me, I was half-disbelieving, half-suspicious.
First, those people in the casino, and now Roseanne – could it be possible that he was...
Paul caught me looking at him frowningly as we reached the top of the stairs. “Is there anything wrong?”
I slowly turned to him with my hands unconsciously settling on my hips like I was a mother about to confront a son who might have done something naughty. “Be honest with me, please?”
“Of course.”
Paul’s swift assurance allowed me to relax slightly, and I asked in a rush, “Who are you, really? I’m certain you didn’t use any spell on Roseanne, but—-”
The sound of a door opening cut me off, followed by a familiar, icily pleasant voice. “Paul, what a surprise.”
Dike stepped into view, and I was startled to see an unusually disconcerted expression on her face. My gaze immediately flew to Paul’s but a bland mask of politeness had fallen over his handsome features.
Uneasiness skittered down my spine. Something’s not adding up, I thought again.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I heard our division director murmur.
“I hope you don’t mind me dropping by.” Paul’s voice was smooth. “I felt it proper to let you know in person I’ve been working with one of your agents.”
Dike’s glance slanted towards me. “I see.”
I bit my lip. It did seem like she saw something. But what?
A closed-door meeting was held at Paul’s request, with our division director taking a seat at the head of the table while Paul took the other end. Also present in the room were Lana, Agent Tamara Gries who was to represent the CIA, and...well, me.
A mistake must’ve been made, I thought nervously. Lana might be a Level 1 like me, but everyone knew she was a tech wiz. She had what it took to be in this room.
I didn’t.
Someone still learning the ropes shouldn’t be here, and if I wasn’t so scared of my boss, I would have been tempted to ask the Daughter of Justice if she was certain about having me in the room.
It should’ve been someone else – like Tristan or Maria or even Roseanne – anyone who could actually contribute something to the table.
The meeting commenced with Paul providing a succinct summary of the evidence we had uncovered, and as soon as he was done speaking, Dike asked the INTERPOL detective what his next step was.
“With your permission—-” Paul made a polite gesture towards my direction, murmuring, “I’d like to have Agent Vavrin—-”
Dike started in her seat, the sudden jerking motion drawing everyone’s eyes to her.
“Is something the matter, Director?” Paul asked politely.
“Apologies.” Her voice was curt. “You were saying about Agent Vavrin?”
“With your permission, I’d like to have her accompany me when I pay a visit to a siren I know.”
“Granted.”
I almost choked. Just like that? But before I could even figure out how I felt about the way things were progressing, the CIA agent with us was already shaking her head with a frown.
“No offense to Agent Vavrin—-” The statuesque brunette gave me an apologetic smile. “But wouldn’t it better if someone more experienced accompany Detective—-” Tamara raised a brow at Paul.
A Season of Gods and Witches Page 4
