by J. P. Rice
I explained, “She came after me. I was just defending myself.”
Zeus stepped down from my porch. “I already said I wasn’t angry. You’ve helped me. Now with her out of the way, I’m free to exercise my will. Look at me. I’m a swinging bachelor now,” he said, tugging at the collar of his black jacket.
“Yeah, you’re one wild and crazy guy all right. So wait. You aren’t here to kill me?” I wondered aloud.
He shook his head. “Quite the contrary. I’m here to reward you.”
This was getting stranger by the sentence. Keeping my guard up, I walked over to Zeus with Titania on my shoulder. “Reward me? How?”
Zeus smirked and inclined his head in thought. “That is up to you. Shall we head inside and finish this talk? I had some coffee brewing and some bread in the toaster.”
“I didn’t think you knew how to work a coffee maker,” I commented.
Zeus stared at me as if I were crazy. “I’m the fucking God of Thunder, I think I can work a simple machine.”
“I just meant that you normally have someone do it for you. Don’t get all worked up.”
Zeus responded in a calm tone, “Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I’m totally relaxed now. Shall we.” He wagged his finger toward my open front door.
“I suppose. After you,” I said, gesturing for him to lead the way since I still didn’t trust him.
“Who’s your little friend there?” he asked pointing at Titania.
“Zeus, this is my friend Titania,” I said.
Zeus waved. “Nice to meet you.”
Titania responded in a stern tone, “Likewise, I’m sure.”
He turned, and as he entered the house, he spoke over his shoulder, “What the hell happened to you, Junipher? You look like you saw a ghost, and that ghost appears to have beaten the hell out of you.”
We entered my kitchen, and Zeus took off his jacket.
I said, “Titania, why don’t you go check out your new place, so I can talk to Zeus.”
Titania flew in front of Zeus’s face. She deepened her voice and warned, “I’ll be right there. Like right there,” she stressed and pointed. “Just around that wall. I’ll be watching you, mister.” She turned to me. “If you need anything, just yell.” She flew backward, keeping her big eyes on Zeus the entire time.
As soon as she left, Zeus smirked. “Who is that?”
“It’s my new friend and nothing for you to worry about,” I said and massaged the back my neck.
“Friendship only creates problems. What happened to your face?” he asked as he opened the cabinet next to my sink.
He didn’t need to know about my beating in the Lair of Justice. I said snidely, “I got into a fight with a Goddess. Remember.” I also didn’t need to alert Zeus about my trip to Seattle or divulge any information I knew concerning the spear. “Wait a second. You sent her after me, didn’t you?”
Zeus pulled two mugs out of my cabinet and set them on the counter. He grabbed the pot of coffee and said, “I did nothing of the sort. I may or may not have assigned a less than stellar doctor to service her wound. And I may or may not have paid him to turn a blind eye to her issues.”
He handed me a steaming mug, and I said, “So it’s not my fault. She would have lived if it weren’t for you.”
Zeus put seven heaping spoons of sugar into his coffee and handed me the container. “And you will keep that to yourself.”
I grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and some milk from the fridge. “Why would I do that? All of your subjects will try to kill me to avenge Hera.”
“They will not. I’ve already told everyone it wasn’t your fault. Hera wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, so you have little to worry about. And I am prepared to make a hush payment.” He tasted his coffee and took the spoon directly from his drink and buried it back into the sugar, making me cringe.
I mixed milk into the coffee and offered it to Zeus who held up an open hand to decline. He licked his spoon and tossed it into the sink. The swinging bachelor didn’t even think about rinsing it off.
I asked, “I keep my mouth shut for what?”
“As I said, that is up to you. You could have me if you like,” he offered and flexed his forearm as he opened the fridge door.
I handed him the milk to put away. “Hard pass.”
“All right,” he said dejectedly, and I almost shit my pants. He never gave up that easy. “Do you have any margarine in here?” he asked, tapping the top of the door.
“Nope, just butter.”
“Oh, do you have any sitting out?” He pulled his head out of the fridge and looked around. “I hate when it’s so hard it tears right through the bread. I’ll take margarine if you have it.”
“Do you see any margarine in there?” I asked, annoyed. Had he not heard what I’d just said?
“No. Do you have a little hiding place for it?” He opened the drawers inside the refrigerator.
“No,” I snapped. “I don’t have any fooking margarine. Now tell me about this deal.”
Zeus grabbed a stick of butter and set it on top of the toaster. “You can have seven of my men to do as you will. Take them as lovers, warriors, engineers or whatever pleases you. You have your pick of anyone who serves at my pleasure.”
That was quite intriguing. “Do I have to pick now?”
The impatient God squeezed the stick of butter, apparently assuming it thawed immediately. “No. Take your time. But there are rules that go along with this venture.”
Rules, huh? Even more intriguing. “What are they?”
Zeus blew into his coffee cup as steam rose from the hot liquid and the corners of his mouth twisted up. “Simple really. You choose a man or woman. I can veto four of your choices, but only four. You will have their services for a one-month period, after which they will return to serve me.”
I’d already figured out a way I could trick him. “Fine.”
He continued, “And just so you don’t try to pull a fast maneuver, you cannot rename anyone that I veto.”
Damn. He’d closed that loophole. “Give me some time to think about it. Anyone who serves you, eh?”
Zeus couldn’t wait for the butter and jammed the wheat toast into his mouth, tearing off about half of it. He spoke through the crunching sounds as he chewed the food, “I will command that the seven carry out your wishes. You will only have their services for a month, remember. I can’t believe I’m being this generous.”
I didn’t need any help right now, but this was a nice card to have in the back pocket. “Yeah, I like the new you. The month of service starts after I name them, correct?”
“That is correct. How’s your spear hunting going?” he asked and pretended like he was shooting me with a spear gun. Then, he jammed a big piece of crust into his mouth.
“Slower than I’d hoped. I’m thinking about getting out of this town again.” I lied.
“Then you won’t want to hear about this juicy detail a little birdy whispered in my ear,” he stated, raising his eyebrows and lifting his coffee mug to his lips.
I turned away, acting like I didn’t care. “Well, I mean. You’re already here, so why don’t you just spill it.”
“Ha. Only out of convenience, I suppose. I heard Octavius has half of the spear. The other half is a mystery.” Zeus chugged the rest of his coffee and filled up another cup. The dirty God took another clean spoon out of my drawer to stir his second cup. Since he was helping me, I held back the urge to chew him out about his lack of manners.
I said, “Bullshit. You’re just saying that because you hate Octavius.”
Octavius and Zeus had a bit of a history. Octavius’s father, Lycaon, was the King of Arcadia. Lycaon had wanted to test Zeus’s omniscience by serving him the cooked flesh of his son. Zeus figured out the trick and cursed Lycaon by turning him into a werewolf, which meant man-wolf. Lycaon passed these traits down to his son, Octavius of the Tainted Blood. A nickname that still drove the alpha wolf bonkers.
Whe
n Lycaon died, Zeus turned his hatred on Octavius, eventually causing the werewolf to flee the area. Octavius roamed around aimlessly for centuries before he ended up in France, where he’d found his bride to start his own pack.
I had to be careful. Zeus could be setting up Octavius out of his pure hatred for the lycanthrope. To be fair, Octavius had never done anything to draw the ire of the ultimate God. It was guilt by association and Octavius was paying for his father’s sins.
Zeus licked his sugary spoon and tossed it into the sink again. I rolled my eyes in disgust, as he said, “I bullshit you not about Octavius. This isn’t borne from ill will. I’ve heard it from several sources. Forget I even said it.”
That would be impossible. I wouldn’t take Zeus’s word for it, but following up on it made perfect sense.
Zeus left, and I immediately went to the sink and rinsed off the sugary spoons. I tossed them in the dishwasher as Titania entered the room.
Turning to her, I said, “You heard everything, huh?”
Her giant eyes and ears rocked up and down. I told her, “That stays between us. Friends have to keep secrets with each other, right?”
“Of course, best friend. I would never betray you,” she promised.
I had a strong feeling she was loyal to the extreme. “Why don’t we get you settled in.”
“Okay. Let’s do it,” she said and followed me into the living room.
After setting up the guest room for Titania, I made a series of phone calls. I found out that three other people and the Not Normal Agency had heard the rumor about Octavius. I needed to investigate further, but I also had to prepare. I didn’t want a repeat of my last visit to the Wolf House and knew a few techniques that would help greatly.
Chapter 16
I took the enchanted dagger my father had given me five hundred years ago and drove to the outskirts of Pittsburgh. I traveled east toward the mountains in search of someone I’d run into last week. Unfortunately, I couldn’t call ahead, so I wasn’t sure if he would be in his cave.
Titania had stayed back at the house. She was already a handful to deal with. Her courage far outweighed her competency, and I feared for her safety. She had heightened senses, much stronger than mine, which could come in handy at some point. Even with all her annoying traits, I kind of liked having her around.
I stepped out of the car and the sole of my boot crunched into some snow. I held out an upturned palm. The light drizzle had stopped, but it had coated the top of the snow, turning it into a sheet of ice. If only I had brought my cleats. Taking careful baby steps, I navigated across the icy plain and into the woods.
My penguin march ended as I approached a small opening at the base of a hill. A giant moss-covered boulder covered the entrance. I crouched down and leaned my shoulder into the solid piece of granite. Using my legs, I shoved with all my might and the uneven boulder rolled a quarter turn to the left, settling back down immediately.
I took a step back and saw that the opening was now big enough for me to squeeze into. When I heard the echo of snoring and smelled a funky trail of body odor, I knew I was in the right place. I crawled through the subterranean tunnel for about fifteen seconds until it opened into a dark room. The snoring grew louder as I shoved myself into the cave.
I pulled the Zippo out of my pocket and lit it. There he was. Sleeping in a heap on the ground. I gently eased my hand onto my beltline, grabbing the handle of the dagger. I unsheathed it quietly, and moved closer to him. I found a torch sticking out of a wall sconce and lit it with my Zippo.
As I hovered over the man, I kicked him gently to wake him up. The fool slapped at my leg and went back to sawing logs. I toed him with the point of my boot in the side of his head, right behind the ear.
He yawned and exclaimed, “Who the hell is kicking me?”
I said, “Junipher, you drunken fool.”
“No, she’s not here. It’s me, Artoise.” He blinked, and his bloodshot eyes tried to fight through the heavy layers of inebriation. He peered around the room in a daze, as if he had been hibernating for the past six months.
He sat up quickly, adjusting his plaid button-down shirt and burgundy pants. He had a necktie wrapped around his bald head, which he ripped off and threw aside so he could rub the spot that I had just kicked.
He finally shook the cobwebs loose and a look of recognition came over his face. “What’s going on? You didn’t tell Mike you saw me, did you?”
“No. Your secret is still safe with me. Mike has no clue you’re still in Pittsburgh. I need your help with something.”
Artoise Saint Delacroix was Mike Merlino’s guardian angel. Too bad the Celtic Gods had never assigned me a guardian angel.
The Morrigan and I had bumped into Artoise last week and she’d told me all about him. He was a self-proclaimed Frenchman, although that was up for dispute. His thick beard and mustache hid his dark skin and he sported a little fro. He’d always been clean-shaven, head and face, when I’d bumped into him at Clara Spiritus.
“What do you need from me?” he asked, his eyelids straining to stay open.
“I need you to bless this for me.” I held up the knife.
Artoise cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Me? Why me?”
I explained, “Because you are an angel. I need an angel to bless my enchanted knife because I’m going into the Wolf House and I want proper protection.”
He tried to button up his shirt, grew frustrated and quickly gave up. “I can’t do that. You know I’m not a real angel, right?”
I sighed. “What is your title?”
He shrugged. “Well, it’s guardian angel, but I don’t think that makes me...”
I cut him off, “Luckily, I don’t care what you think. I know it’s a technicality, but I also know it should work. Now, unless you want me to talk to Mike, you better get up off your ass and help me.”
Using a hold in the cave wall to brace himself, he stood up and wobbled back and forth for a few seconds. A yeasty musk emanated from his body due to his constant drinking.
He opened his mouth to yawn, and I turned to the side to avoid the paint-peeling odor. Either he used dogshit-flavored toothpaste, or he hadn’t brushed his teeth in weeks.
I inquired, “So what the hell have you been doing? Just getting drunk?”
Artoise looked around the room and seemed unsure of what to say. “I’m having fun, all right? Doing the stuff I never get to do in Clara Spiritus. Leave me alone.”
“I’m not judging you. You may do as you please...for the most part. Here,” I said, handing the dagger to him.
Due to Artoise’s hangover, the procedure took three attempts because he could barely repeat the words I was feeding him to set the spell. When the blade took on a seraphic ivory glow, I knew we had achieved success. Now I could kill a werewolf with a single stroke of the blade. I could leave a little nick on a wolf’s baby toe and it would still be lethal. This knife had that much power.
It was time to see Octavius and his pack now that I had the proper weaponry. His half of the spear was as good as mine.
Chapter 17
I stepped out of Owen’s car and buttoned my leather peacoat-style jacket, tapping the left side to make sure my enchanted dagger was still there. Check. Titania flew out of the car and hovered near my face. I waved to Owen as he drove away.
“You lead the way this time,” the dragonfly said.
A maze of pine trees sat in front of us, acting like a fortress for the Wolf House, which sat at the top of a hill. If memory served me right, they only had guards stationed outside the house last time. I hadn’t spotted anyone on the way up the driveway.
This time, I was hoofing it, trying to stay away from the driveway to avoid detection. My plan was to use pure, brute force. After my lethal performance the last time I was here, they knew I wouldn’t hesitate to kill. With the knife in my possession, I planned to demand the spear and if anyone objected, bodies would start hitting the floor.
Consid
ering I was attempting to bring peace to the city, this brazen plan wouldn’t help in that matter. However, if Lugh’s Spear ended up in the wrong hands, the ramifications would be heard around the world. Not to mention the netherworlds. So, much like my deal for Merlin’s staff, I was committing a wrong to serve a noble goal.
We started up the steep incline, disappearing into the pine trees and staying to the right of the driveway. Unimpeded, we quickly ascended the snowy hill and arrived at a plateau where the house was located. Something behind the house caught my eye. I moved further to my right to check it out.
I saw a large group of wolves dancing around a bonfire. My eyes died in the flames and my feet became glued to the ground. My thoughts, frozen in time.
I pulled myself up out of my cave in the Red Cavern, liquid fire dripping from every inch of my body. Confused and throttled with pain, I searched frantically. My children. Where were my babies?
My arm acted of its own volition and dove back into the bubbling magma, fishing around for any sign of my babies. Nothing.
When the pain became unbearable, I kept my hand in the lava, praying that it would find them. Fearing my own death, I fled the cave and wondered how I was still alive. To call it agony would be a vast understatement. Was I dead?
I looked at my charred, smoking arms as I fled down a tunnel, hoping the monsters weren’t following me. The light faded sharply as I plunged further into the dark abyss. When I thought my legs couldn’t carry me any further, a gleaming ray of hope appeared in the near distance.
Energized by the prospect of safety, I forged on, the light growing brighter and bolder by the step. I came to an opening and dove through. My body hit a snowbank and my fiery skin reacted harshly with the temperature change, sizzling loudly and sending plumes of dark clouds into the air. Intense sunlight reflected off the snow-capped mountain and caused my eyes to water.
Where was I? My eyes searched the area, longing for a clue, and landed on the impossible. I stared at the impossible. A single rose. Its verdant stem embedded in the ice. The glowing scarlet bud captivated me. I marveled at it. It made me completely forget about my son and daughter.
