“I’ve been here since this place opened, and we’re one of the smaller ones in Dion’s empire. By the looks of her, I think she’s probably working for one of Dion’s flashier places—-”
“By the looks of her?” I couldn’t help echoing her words curiously.
“That low-neckline gown she’s wearing,” Monica explained patiently. “I know we’ve gotten a really bad rep over the centuries because of how those stupid Greek scholars made us seem like femme fatales, but the truth is – all of those stories are fake. There was this mortal scholar who fell for one of my ancestors, and when she couldn’t make herself love him back he decided to get back on her by spreading rumors about us.”
Monica waved her hand in a vague gesture to our surroundings, saying, “We’re an extremely conservative bunch actually, and we prefer to have more clothes on than less. Nothing against dressing sexy, but it’s not just our thing – despite what others may think about us. Dion understands this, and that’s why he’s opened smaller clubs like TVF where we’re only expected to sing and entertain guests and nothing else.”
“That woman, on the other hand—-” The siren tapped on the photo I was holding and gave me an apologetic smile. “She seems more human than siren to me, if you know what I mean?”
I did, unfortunately, and I found myself mulling over the siren’s words as I stepped out of The Voice Factor and pulled the hood of my jacket back up. I had never thought of comparing humans to supernaturals and immortals before, but if I did or if I had to, I knew my opinion wouldn’t be any different from Monica’s. My life itself before training as a witch in Silver Mist taught me that. Humans were all about the material trappings, and some of them were willing to go to appalling lengths for it. Could my Jane Doe be the same? Was all this for the money – even if it meant putting so many innocent lives at risk?
I knew I was being naïvely disappointed about all of this, but I couldn’t help it. Roseanne could get annoying at times, but it didn’t make her evil. All the other supernaturals and immortals I had met were nice or at least honorable, and none of the cases I had to handle for CSI involved anything more serious than petty theft.
I heaved a great sigh as I rounded the corner, miserable at the thought of having to capture a supernatural criminal motivated purely by something as basic as greed. It just wasn’t right –
A zigzag-shaped thunderbolt suddenly flashed in the sky, its razor sharp tip heading dangerously close to me.
Aaaah!
I jumped out of the way as the bolt struck the ground with a terrifyingly loud zap. A short distance away – no, above me – I heard several frantic voices yelling in the midst of more zapping thunderbolts and the unmistakable whizzing of brooms flying overhead.
Agents, I realized faintly. One of the last things I had heard from Iris’ broadcast was of CIA agents using spells to attract most of the thunderbolts towards our town. Silver Mist we had more homes that were magically protected and lower human populations. Our chances of surviving were a lot better compared to other places—-
The ground suddenly started to tremble, distracting me from my thoughts. An earthquake? I slowly turned around, and that was when my gaze fell on the thunderbolt that had nearly struck me. It was vibrating so hard it seemed about to burst into pieces – what on Gaea was happening?
The thunderbolt suddenly ripped itself free, and I could only watch in horrified silence as it froze mid-air before bending forward like a bull about to charge – towards me.
I broke into a run even as my mind struggled to regain its grasp on reality. Not once, in the hundred or so books I had read on Greek myths, had it been mentioned that Zeus’ thunderbolts could function as precision-guided missiles that seemed as bloodthirsty and unshakable as one of Ramsay Snow’s human-eating hounds.
My lungs felt fit to burst as the shouts overhead became more frantic. Lightning flashed, too close for comfort, and I looked over my shoulder just in time to see the thunderbolt gaining ground –
I jumped out of its way as the bolt made a frightening lunge towards me. A groan escaped my lips as my back hit the wet, hard ground, and I cried out when I saw my wand slip out of my pocket, leaving me completely defenseless.
My body started to roll down the sloping road – fast. I caught a blur of images as pain threatened to take over my consciousness: the thunderbolt once again trying to shake itself free from the earth, the battle-scarred skies, with agents on brooms swooping in all directions as they chased stray bolts. I started to close my eyes when my gaze accidentally clashed with another stray bolt.
It jerked to a stop, and my breath caught.
The thunderbolt bent towards me, and I thought sickly, Gaea help me.
So that was how it chose its target.
Everything happened so fast after that, and in the last few seconds I could only seem to absorb snatches of reality: the unstoppable slide of my body as the wet road continued its downward plunge towards the intersection, my hands and knees scraping against the rough asphalt as I tried to change course, my heart thudding against my chest as I realized that I was positioned dead center in the thunderbolt’s crosshairs – and finally, the heat.
Like a white-hot sun reaching towards you for an electrifying kiss, so hot that I felt it singe the tips of my hair. My lips parted in a scream as I wondered if this was truly the end.
And then – darkness, and I opened my eyes to see a shadow eclipsing my view. A moment later, the darkness glided back and I gasped just as the sound of screaming metal rang in my ears.
My blurred gaze helplessly followed his every movement: I watched him break the flaming bolt into half with his bare hands, watched the way the thunderbolt’s fiery glow died flickering to its last ember in its hold, and finally, just as my injured body stiffened in anticipation and an awful twinge pinched my heart, I watched the way he turned towards me, his own eyes blazing a bright hazel.
Paul.
Chapter Nine
“I made you tea.” They were not the first words that I had expected Paul to speak, but I was relieved all the same. It was so much better than ‘I told you so’, which I knew I deserved.
Less than an hour had passed since Paul had driven me back home. I was now ensconced in my own couch, a thick blanket around my shoulders, and feeling warm and cozy after my hot shower.
I watched him pour tea into two porcelain cups, every inch the consummate gentleman. He had changed into another suit after his shower, making me wonder just how many of those dark-colored ensembles he had stored in his car. As he turned towards me, I saw the way the slightly wet locks of his hair shone like golden rays under the fluorescent lighting. It was a dazzling sight, and my senses quivered.
Mr. Handsome. Home. Shower.
It was much too intimate a thought, and I hastily shoved it aside as Paul handed me a steaming cup of chamomile tea. “T-Thanks.” I tried to lift the cup to my lips, but it was impossible. My hands had suddenly started shaking, and I stared at them in consternation. I thought I was okay. I should be okay, so why –
I heard Paul sigh, and I stiffened when I saw him rise to his feet. “It’s fine,” I said immediately. “I can—-”
But Paul only ignored my protest as he scooped me off the couch and took my place – just before depositing me on his lap.
“P-Paul!” I had never sat on a man’s lap. Never. And that the first time would actually happen with Mr. Handsome, of all people –
“You’re still in shock,” he said gently.
No kidding, I thought dizzily, and my nerves were stretched taut at the feel of Paul’s hard warmth against my trembling limbs. This time, I couldn’t even try to protest as Paul lifted the cup to my lips. I started to take a sip, but then I saw the steam rising past the rim, and I hesitated.
“Blair?” In the corner of my eye, I saw his lips curve as I blew on my tea several times before letting myself take a tiny sip. It was the right kind of hot, and I sighed in relief as I took a longer sip.
When
I lifted my head, the first thing I saw was the gleam in his hazel eyes, and my face heated up. “What?” I couldn’t help sounding defensive.
He placed the cup back on the table with a shake of his head. “It’s disconcerting,” he admitted wryly, “the way you can appear like an innocent child one moment and a fully-blossomed woman the next.”
My cheeks turned a deeper shade of red at his words. “You’re reading it the wrong way,” I muttered even as I let Paul pull me back against him, my head against his chest. I knew I should be doing the opposite, but I was tired of going against what I truly wanted. Just this once, I would do what my heart craved – and that was to be in Paul’s arms.
“Are you saying you never act like a child?” Paul asked teasingly.
“I’m saying I’m human,” I grumbled. “You hold live thunderbolts in your hands, for Cronos’ sake. I won’t be surprised if I see you playing with them next time like a majorette twirling her batons—-”
“That’s a horrible analogy,” Paul interrupted with a slight wince.
I suddenly had a vision of him wearing a majorette’s costume, gold-tasseled shoulder padding and all, and I choked back a laugh.
Paul scowled down at me. “Get that image out of your mind, Blair.”
“But—-”
“But nothing,” he said firmly. “Or I’ll give you something else to think about.”
A strong arm went around my waist, and I gulped.
Not good.
“You win,” I said hastily. “I’m already thinking of something else.”
Paul shook his head in mock disappointment. “You give in too easily, agapoula mou.”
“It’s called self-preservation.”
“I see.” His voice was pleasant, too pleasant, and unease stirred inside of me.
“Paul—-” My voice broke off as I felt his arm tighten around my waist again.
“A pity you didn’t have the same concern when you left your house despite my warnings.”
“I knew you’d get around to that sooner or later.” I kept my voice light and teasing, hoping to defuse the sudden tension in the room, but Paul’s handsome face remained unsmiling.
“You almost died out there, Blair.” His voice was taut, and the way he was suddenly looking at me made my throat tighten. “If I hadn’t found you in time—-”
“But you did,” I whispered.
“But what if I didn’t?” he gritted out. “You can’t take such chances—-”
The look on his face was unbearable. It thrilled and confused me, and I could only shake my head, asking tremulously, “Why do you worry so much about me? You’ve only known me for days.”
“It’s been more than days, Blair,” he said quietly. “You and I both know you’ve been watching me a lot longer than that.”
Oh.
“And it was the same for me. I couldn’t stop watching you from the first day I saw you in Panda’s—-”
My fingers curled involuntarily against his chest, and Paul inhaled sharply.
“W-What exactly are you saying?”
“I don’t want to see you hurt,” he said flatly. “Isn’t that obvious enough?”
“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” I swallowed hard. “Why do you worry so much over me?”
“Does there have to be a reason?” His gaze became veiled. “Isn’t it enough that I just do?”
Was it? Should it be enough? All this was so new to me.
Paul tipped my chin up. “I know I can’t stop you from doing your job, but can we at least agree to some ground rules?”
I bit my lip, feeling torn between the desire to alleviate his worries and the need to assert my independence. “I’m not a kid, Paul—-”
“Then act like it,” he retorted. “I told you tonight would be a war zone, didn’t I?”
He had me there.
“I had no idea Zeus’ thunderbolts could do anything like that,” I confessed reluctantly. Even now, just remembering how close I was to having a thunderbolt stab me to death had me swallowing hard. I was definitely not taking my chances next time.
“Zeus has different kinds of thunderbolts in his arsenal,” Paul explained curtly. “The one you saw was the deadliest – it’s programmable, and a hundred percent accurate once it’s locked onto its target.”
“And you think Zeus programmed it to target witches?”
“We can’t say for sure, but most of us think it’s worse than that.”
I paled. “Are you saying it’s programmed to target humans, too?”
“I’m saying it’s programmed to target anything that lives and breathes—-” Paul’s tone was hard. “That’s why no place is safe for anyone of us, and that’s why I want us to work on those ground rules.”
One, two, three seconds passed.
More time lapsed, but I just couldn’t think of a way to get past those ground rules without making myself seem as dreadfully unreasonable as a kid.
“Fine,” I grumbled. “You win. Ground rules it is, but I swear, if you even think of mentioning detention—-”
Mr. Oh-So-Mature leaned back against his seat, drawling, “Now that you’ve mentioned it...”
I glared at him.
Paul threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “A joke, just a joke, Agent Vavrin.”
“Just so we’re clear,” I stressed, still suspicious.
“We are.” He tugged a lock of my hair, and his lips curved when I refused to relax even as the gesture had my spine tingling. “I meant what I said, Blair. I’m not going to interfere with your work.” He paused. “But I don’t want to see you risking life and limb for it either.”
“But if the situation calls for it—-”
“Let me rephrase that: I don’t want you taking unnecessary risks, and so here’s one simple ground rule. Just let me know where you are or where you’re heading at all times.”
I waited.
And waited.
And when I realized that was all he was going to ask –
“That’s it?” I asked dubiously.
He spread his hands out by way of waving the white flag. “That’s it.”
My gaze narrowed. “This isn’t some kind of trick, is it?”
“If you want more ground rules,” Paul drawled, “all you have to do is ask.”
Oops. I shook my head, saying quickly, “Err, no, actually, that one ground rule is perfect.”
He smirked. “I thought you’d say that.” He glanced at my teacup. “Do you want another?”
“I’m okay—-” My gaze drifted absently to my watch. Nine-thirty. I hadn’t had dinner yet and – oh.
“I forgot to tell you about what I discovered at The Voice Factor,” I gasped, and Paul listened attentively as I told him what I learned.
“That’s good work.” Paul’s voice had turned vague, and I could see that his mind was already on what next steps to take. “We’ll need tech support...”
I grabbed my phone. “On it.”
“Tell them this is Code P.”
I hesitated. “You’re sure?” P stood for Pandora, and Code P meant the situation had hit rock bottom, the equivalent of Pandora’s box unleashing an unholy horror on mankind. Among other things, it granted tech support permission to hack even into government-owned systems, something we tried our best to avoid because it risked exposure for non-humans if we were caught.
“We have no choice. I received word earlier from Olympus. The only reason we have a lull in the storm right now is because Hermes was able to use one of Hypnos’ sleeping spells to knock the thunder god out.”
“Doesn’t he have to be physically close to Zeus to make that kind of spell work?”
Paul nodded curtly. “He didn’t need to get inside the battle tower, but he did have to get close enough that it cost him a torn wing.”
“Poor Hermes.” The fleet-footed god may be an Olympian himself, but none of those things saved him from feeling pain the way we all did.
“He’ll live,”
Paul said gruffly.
I supposed he would, and that even with his injured wing, Hermes still had better chances of surviving the coming storm. “How long do you think the spell would last?”
“How soon before Zeus wakes up?”
“No one really knows, but when he wakes up—-” Paul’s voice turned harsh. “He’ll be fit to destroy the world.”
A PAIR OF GENTLEMEN showed up on my doorstep at exactly eight in the morning, both of them dressed in – naturally – dark suits. They gave me polite, friendly smiles as they introduced themselves (Troy with the blue eyes, and Philip with the days-old stubble), and told me I had only to ask if I needed anything.
“Do you know where Paul is or what he’s working on right now?”
The men exchanged looks. “Well, anything except that,” Troy amended.
Mary Lou was agog with curiosity and didn’t waste time asking questions as soon as I got past the double doors. “That wasn’t the INTERPOL detective, was it?”
“Err, no.”
The nymph rolled her eyes when I couldn’t be more forthcoming. “Come on, Blair,” she wheedled. “At least tell me who they are?”
“They’re also from INTERPOL?”
“And?”
“And I gotta go, I have a meeting with Dike.” Or so I did, but all I really wanted was to escape before Mary Lou pried out more information from me.
Our division director called for Lana and Agent Gries as soon as I entered her office, and at her cue, I provided them with the latest update. “Detective Paul emailed me early this morning. He says INTERPOL’s convinced Dion that it’s in his interest to work with them, but it will still take time. Dion doesn’t keep records on non-human employees so tech support has to comb through all the surveillance footage in hopes of finding a match.”
Dike turned to Lana. “Any news from tech support?”
“When Code P went into effect last night, we’ve tapped into surveillance cameras within a mile’s radius of every establishment Dion owns. We should’ve come up with results by now, but we don’t even have a single possible match.” Lana took a deep breath before saying reluctantly, “We think Jane Doe used a retroactive camouflage spell sometime in the past 24 hours to cover her trail.”
A Season of Gods and Witches Page 6
