A Season of Gods and Witches

by Bloome, Alice

  So where, I asked myself in frustration, did I go from here?

  My phone suddenly rang as if to answer my question, and I almost lost my hold on it when I realized who was calling.

  “Is this Deputy Blair Vavrin?” Officer Peter Leeb’s voice was nervous and slightly high-pitched, and I immediately pictured in my mind a fresh-faced rookie still learning the ropes of law enforcement.

  All the better for my case, I thought, crossing my fingers.

  “Yes, this is Deputy Vavrin. Thanks for returning my call.” It took a lot to keep the flow of words steady. Lying about being a witch was easy, but pretending I was an honest-to-goodness deputy?

  Even though bureau magic ensured that my cover as a police officer in the human world would always check out, it still felt weird every time I had to pose as one.

  “You mentioned that this was about a previous case I handled?”

  “Umm, yes. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about the animal clinic theft you handled last month.”

  “I remember that,” Peter acknowledged after a pause. “What about it?”

  “I’ve read your report on it, but I was wondering if you could walk me through how things went down that night, your first impressions...”

  “I, ah, see.” The stilted pace of Peter’s words revealed his struggle to contain his confusion, and I knew I had to try harder to explain myself.

  “This is going to sound preposterous, but our town’s recently been struck by two burglary incidents back to back. Based on our investigation, it’s possible that your perp and ours is one and the same.”

  “So you’re saying there’s a burglar that’s only targeting animal clinics in this side of New England?”

  “I told you it’s going to sound preposterous, but you know how criminals are these days.”

  “That’s true.”

  Peter’s pensive tone was encouraging, and I didn’t hesitate to press my advantage, saying, “Your input could be the breakthrough we need to crack our case, Officer Leeb.”

  “Well, I’m not sure what else there is to say. Everything’s written in the report...”

  “And it was a thorough one, too,” I was quick to compliment, “but maybe you could just humor me on this one? Our consulting psychologist always likes to tell us that time has varying ways of affecting the memory. It can make certain parts vague, but it can also make other things pop out vividly.”

  “Making me see the woods for the trees you mean,” Peter remarked.

  “Exactly.” Or, more to the point, there were clues that Peter might have neglected to add to his report simply because they hinted of magic – but the hint would be lost on him since he was human.

  “Alright then,” Peter said finally. “You’ve convinced me. Hang on a sec, and I’ll get a copy of the report.”

  “Happy to wait.”

  Peter came back to the line half a minute later. “So the last timestamp shown for that day’s recording was 1:34 AM. I got there about 1:46. The perp didn’t bother picking the lock, just smashed the glass with something – maybe a hammer.”

  Something a human would definitely do, I thought, or a non-human wanting to deflect suspicion?

  “The whole clinic had been trashed. A lot of shelves overturned, bags of pet food torn open – senseless destruction, I remember thinking to myself, and normally I’d put that down to someone with a personal motive against the owner, but somehow, it didn’t feel like that. The whole thing, it almost felt...”

  “Staged?”

  “Yes,” Peter agreed, sounding surprised. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  And what I had been thinking, too, I recalled, the first time I saw Marlee’s room.

  “Did anything else about the crime scene strike you as odd?”

  “Well...” I could practically hear the gears in Peter’s brain working as he dug deeper into his memory banks. “There was one odd thing I didn’t mention in my report.”

  My heart skipped a beat. Could Peter have stumbled upon a magical clue without knowing it?

  “And when I think about it now, I can’t even be sure if I imagined it or if it has any bearing on the case.”

  “I’m definitely interested in hearing more,” I said eagerly. “Was it like a shadow you see in the corner of your eye?” A witch’s familiar could do that. “Or maybe the hairs behind your neck started to stand?” Being too close to werewolves and witches on a full moon could do that. “Or—-”

  “Now, hold on, Deputy Vavrin,” Peter interrupted in protest. “You seem to be thinking I saw a ghost, but it’s not that.”

  Oops. Thinking back, I realized that my words could only be misconstrued in that sense, and I quickly backtracked with an apology. “Sorry, I’m the superstitious type, but I can see I, umm, misread the situation. Anyway – you were saying about the odd thing you noticed?”

  “It’s actually not a big thing,” Peter shared awkwardly. “But, well, I just found it odd that the whole place didn’t reek, you know? If anything, it smelled like...valleys and mountains.”

  “I see.” That was it? That was the oddest thing he had noticed? Didn’t he know about aromatherapy? Didn’t he realize that the perp could have simply knocked down an air purifier, and that would have made the whole place smell like the Garden of Eden?

  “Crazy, right?”

  I swallowed my disappointment. “Yeah, it’s crazy.” And I was even crazier to think that I could have earned myself another clue with this call. It was just as Officer Peter Leeb said: everything pertinent was already on his report, and nothing about the report suggested any use of magic.

  Chapter Ten

  The sweet, sticky smell of cinnamon welcomed me as soon as I stepped inside Demi’s Eternal Sweets, but it was the almost sacred air of silence that made me release a little hum of pleasure. Panda’s would always be my first culinary love here in Silver Mist, but the diner was an impossible place for the working dinner I had in mind.

  Of course, Demi’s could get rather noisy and crowded, too. In the mornings, local housewives liked to band together over organic teas and salads like a tour de force of domestic bliss. But for the rest of the day, the town’s only bakery would settle into an air of tranquil bliss.

  Just like heaven, I thought with a silent sigh of contentment. Or at least it was the next best thing, considering the fact that the hearth goddess herself ran the place.

  “Evening, Blair.”

  Speak of the Olympian, I thought, seeing the attractive, dark-haired woman coming out of the kitchen bearing a tray of freshly baked brownies.

  “Hi, Demeter.” When I saw her peeking behind my back, I shook my head, saying somewhat ruefully, “It’s just me, I’m afraid.”

  Dismay shadowed her eyes. “Lover’s quarrel?”

  “What? No! Of course not,” I sputtered in surprise.

  The goddess’ tinkling laughter played out like a melody. “I was just joking, dear.”

  She was? I let out a laugh. “Umm, I knew that.”

  Merriment twinkled in her eyes. “Of course you did.” Lowering the tray on the counter, Demeter asked with a smile, “What can I get you, Agent Vavrin?”

  “Any chance you have something that might lend me a bit of Athena’s wisdom?” I quipped.

  “Ah.” She nodded knowingly. “The burglaries, isn’t it?”

  “It’s already made the rounds then?” I asked with a grimace.

  “It hasn’t made it to tonight’s headlines on Iris’ radio show yet, but you know how things are in small towns.”

  And Silver Mist was, of course, smaller than small, with 68% of its population sharing one big fat secret, and that was the fact that none of them were human.

  Demeter pointed to her jar of cookies. “How about this one? I added a bit of spice I ordered straight from Caerus’ garden to this.”

  Caerus was a minor deity, known for his ability to bless individuals with favorable opportunities and luck.

  “Can I have two o
f them, please?” I paused. “And maybe one of your pasta plates and coffee, too.”

  Thirty minutes later, my stomach was full, and my mind was brimming with energy. All thanks to Caerus, I honestly felt like I could do anything!

  I cracked my knuckles and rotated my shoulders.

  Let’s do this, Blair Vavrin.

  “We meet again, Paul’s beloved.”

  Err – wait – what was – who could be – oh.

  A pair of mischief-making mercury-colored eyes gleamed down at me, and I nearly fell out of my chair in my haste to stand. “T-Theo Hermes,” I stammered.

  “Such formality slays me, little sister. Are we not about to become family soon?”

  “Stop teasing her, you trickster.” Demeter suddenly appeared next to the fleet-footed god, exasperation written all over her features.

  “I’m actually playing nice,” Hermes protested, a look of injured innocence on his handsome face. Looking back at me, he asked curiously, “Are you waiting for A—-” Demeter interrupted him, throwing a furious flash of Ancient Greek at the god, and Hermes grimaced. “Ne, ne, I am sorry, I will not make the same mistake again.”

  “Make sure you do not, or I will make sure myself that Paul knows of your carelessness.” Demeter turned to me then. “You need not waste your time on this man, dear.”

  “So many hurtful words, Demeter.” Hermes’ tone was one of lament, but the mirth in his eyes easily belied it.

  “Oh, hush. You’re impossible to insult, and we both know it.”

  “I only wish to know Paul’s beloved better.” Hermes flashed a genial smile at my direction. “You can take a short break to spare me a few minutes of your company, yes?”

  “Umm...” I managed another weak smile. “Of course.”

  Demeter huffed in disapproval, but what else could I do? Books on Greek mythology were littered with stories of the gods’ creative and tortuous ways of showing their displeasure every time a human turned them down. I might be Paul’s so-called beloved, but I’d rather not take the risk of antagonizing his fellow Olympian as much as I could help it.

  After a few minutes, Hermes returned to take the seat across me with a cup of coffee in his hand. He took a sip, and his face immediately blanched. “Cast you, Demeter.”

  Since the hearth goddess’ laughter could be heard all the way from the kitchen, I wondered if there was just a bit of magic involved, for the sake of letting Hermes know of her dissatisfaction.

  “It’s not coffee then?” I asked tentatively.

  “Oh, it is.” Hermes eyed his cup with disgust. “But it’s the disgusting kind.” When he saw me blink, the mercury god elaborated, “It’s made from civet turd.”

  I almost spewed out my own coffee – oh no. I looked down at my own cup with horror.

  Hermes chuckled. “Relax, little witch. Your coffee’s safe.” His lips curved into a sly smile. “But I have to give it to Demi. Most gods aren’t able to live up to their names, but our hearth goddess never disappoints.”

  “Um – I’m afraid I’m not getting you.”

  “The coffee worked at breaking the ice between us, didn’t it?”

  Oh.

  Hermes’ revelation blew my mind, altering my thoughts of Demi, and I found myself regarding the Olympian with newfound respect. Hermes was right. Demeter never disappointed.

  And as for Hermes –

  My lips twitched when I saw the sly look in his eyes.

  He never disappointed either.

  “Are you thinking of stirring up some mischief?” I asked wryly.

  Hermes grinned. “Do you think anything I do will work?”

  Lips pursing, I considered the question seriously and thought back to the short time I had been able to observe how Paul and Hermes interacted with each other.

  And that was when it hit me.

  “You get a kick out of making him mad,” I realized.

  “Just like any younger brother would,” Hermes confirmed without an ounce of shame. “I can’t wait to see his face when I tell him I had dinner with you while he’s stuck at work.”

  I groaned.

  “I couldn’t have said it better,” Hermes deadpanned.

  “Hermes!”

  “No more theo,” Hermes observed. “That’s even better. I’ll tell him it took just one night for us to discover we’re more compatible—-”

  I couldn’t help bursting into laughter at that. “Stop it.”

  “I can’t.” And this time, it only seemed as if Hermes was half-joking. “You don’t know how long we’ve all been waiting to see Paul break out of his emotionless shell.”

  “Centuries?”

  “Millennia.”

  “Ha!” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You can’t be suggesting he’s been unavailable to women for at least a thousand years?”

  “Physically? Heck no. Emotionally? Absolutely.” And this time, Hermes appeared completely serious.

  Paul had hinted as much whenever we got around to talking about his past, but I also knew such things were the kind that men could have no qualms lying about – even if they ended up suffering internal bleeding for it.

  But now that Hermes was also suggesting the same thing?

  I reached for my second cookie and started chomping. “No comment.”

  Silver eyes flashed with good-natured humor. “When I first heard the rumors about the two of you, I had thought you were merely a passing fancy to him, a morsel to relieve the boredom—-”

  “A morsel?” I couldn’t help butting in. “Women aren’t food.”

  “How can they not be when they’re the tastiest things on earth?”

  I nearly threw my hands up in surrender. “I should edit your entry on Wikipedia,” I muttered, “and add god of chauvinism to your list of titles.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  This god was incorrigible, but somehow, it only ended up making me laugh even though I had a feeling the very same attribute was likely to annoy someone as serious as Paul.

  “Now, about Samhain,” Hermes drawled.

  My back shot ramrod straight. “Oh no, we are not going to talk about that.”

  “Of course we are,” the mercury god countered right away. “It’s just a small family affair, nothing to be nervous about.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Would a god lie about something so trivial?”

  My eyes bored through him. “You would.”

  Hermes grinned. “You know me so well, little sister.”

  I rolled my eyes, thinking that I could only pity any woman who’d be brave – or foolish – enough to fall for a trickster like the mercury god. I opened my mouth to tell Hermes I needed more time to think about his Samhain ball when I noticed him frowning at the printouts I had scattered on the table.

  “Why do you have a file on Caren?”

  “You know her?”

  “She’s not of my generation, too young, but most of the pantheon know of her. She is one of the few queens to have given up the throne and grant her kind freedom.”

  “Are you saying nymph queens are tyrants in general?” Books generally described nymphs as fickle and playful, sometimes cruelly so, but not one single story had ever described them as the type to enslave their own kind.

  “Some are, but of course you wouldn’t have read that in the human’s version. Caren, however, had been different, always been so. The moment she had the crown on her head, she abolished the royal house, thus granting freedom to the valley nymphs—-”

  “I thought she was Queen of Napaeae?”

  “She is,” Hermes agreed, “and Napaeae refers to the race of valley nymphs.”

  Something about his words nagged at me, but I was momentarily distracted by the sight of Hermes going through my other documents and singling out Lana’s background report on Graham Lewis.

  “Don’t tell me you know of him, too?”

  It was Hermes’ turn to have his eyes bore through me. “Have you forgotten what kind of
god I am?”

  I actually did, I realized with a grimace.

  Hermes sort of shared dominion with Iris over news and communication, being a trusted envoy of messages himself – something I should’ve remembered...but didn’t.

  “Sorry about that,” I said, chagrined. “Stress has finally gotten the better of me, I guess.”

  A wily light glinted in the god’s eyes. “Eirene can help you with that.”

  “I’m sure she would.” Eirene, another Horae, was sister to Dike, and there could no one more knowledgeable about stress antidotes than the goddess of peace herself.

  Hermes started to smile.

  “But I’m also equally sure that meeting with her will cost me.”

  “All you have to do is accompany Apollo to the ball, and I can easily arrange a consultation.”

  “I could just ask Dike for the same favor, you know.”

  “But will you?”

  I made a face. No, actually, I wouldn’t – and the god knew it.

  “I sincerely appreciate the offer, but—-” My phone vibrated against the desk, and I picked it up when I saw it was an email from the customer support department at Clio’s library.

  Dear Agent Vavrin,

  We have received your assistant’s booking request for a community chamber at the restricted section. It is with great regret, however, that we inform you that all such chambers have already been reserved.

  If we may offer a suggestion – perhaps one of your peers from the pantheon may lend access to their private chambers?

  Once again, we apologize for the inconvenience, and bid you good day.

  By the time I finished reading, my gaze immediately shot towards Hermes, and the god arched one inquiring brow.

  “Have you thought about my offer?”

  Mm.

  “That depends,” I answered cautiously. “Do you happen to have a private chamber at Clio’s library?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “You look a bit under the weather, Agent Vavrin,” Glenn remarked suspiciously the next day.

  No kidding, I thought gloomily. I had tossed and turned for most of the night, unable to stop worrying about how I was going to survive Hermes’ Samhain ball.