by Devon Monk
“By getting information on the page of spells, not by following Ryder and the monster hunter around,” I amended.
“I see,” she said like she didn’t believe a word of it. “Well, if we find any information, we’ll bring it to you.”
“Good enough. Now get out of my house, I need to take a shower.”
She huffed, Avnas rolled his eyes. They both tromped out of the room, though not before Xtelle “accidentally” punched a trinket box off my dresser.
I followed them down the stairs, shut and locked the door behind them, and turned to assess the house.
Dragon pig was ruling over the top of his toy hoard, his eyes glinting with fire, smoke curling out of his nostrils.
“Spud still out with Ryder?” I asked.
He grumbled, and I knew it was a yes. I was getting pretty good at talking dragon pig.
I wandered into the kitchen and found a note by the full coffee pot.
* * *
Meeting Vivian for breakfast. Am showing her “around” town. Plan to make it so boring she packs and leaves. Call if you need anything. Love you. —R
* * *
I smiled as Xtelle’s words came back to me. “My man is not stepping out on me,” I said, as I tucked the note into a drawer and poured a huge travel mug of coffee. “He’s stepping up to protect Ordinary.”
I took one heavenly gulp of coffee before jogging back upstairs to shower and change. While I knew I could count on Ryder to do his part, I needed to do mine. Which meant checking in with our local Valkyrie.
Chapter Eighteen
Bertie shouldn’t be hard to track down. With the talent show being put on tomorrow, I knew she’d be at the stage, making sure every detail was attended to.
I finished off my coffee on the way to Dinghy Street. Myra left me a message that Crow’s amulet was stored away. Hatter and Shoe checked in to say they’d contacted all the citizens on their list, and Kelby asked me when Ryan and Than were going to be pulling shifts again.
I told her I’d get back to her on Ryder.
As for Than, it was time for his walkabout to be over. I needed all hands on deck in order to cover everything that was happening. That meant the god of death had to come back and pull his weight as one of our Reserve Officers.
Dinghy Street was busy with people coming and going. Pickup trucks and vans lined either side of the road, and a variety of supplies and building materials were being ported from the vehicles to the Grand Old Ordinary Show Off stage.
And it was grand. Just two days ago, this had been nothing but a dead end with a weedy piece of dirt behind it, and behind that, the chalk line snap of the Pacific edging the sky.
Now it looked like the Hollywood Bowl made out of a patchwork quilt of wood. The stage sat beneath an arched ceiling that stretched back like the inside of a cornucopia. Different shades and types of wood created each of those inner arcs, all sanded and polished to a rich glow.
Lights hadn’t been strung yet, nor curtains hung, but if the gorgeous green and purple and gold that I caught hints of among the supplies counted for anything, it was going to be a fabulous stage.
Much too pretty for even the best armpit farter.
The audience area was being prepared too. Since it was an outdoor event, there were places for blankets and chairs right up against the stage, and on the hilly rises on either side, which were two vacant grassy lots.
I knew Bertie would provide benches and chairs in neat rows for those who didn’t like sitting on the ground.
Another small structure was being built to the left of the stage. That would be for the contestants who were waiting their turn.
But even in a crowd of people—construction workers, designers, volunteers in purple and gold and green T-shirts with O, Show Off printed across the back and front—Bertie sparkled like a jewel.
She wore a hot pink pantsuit, complemented by an orange and purple scarf, and so many bangles on her wrists I was surprised she could lift her hands to point at people, or check things off the clipboard she had tucked under her arm.
I parked my Jeep at the far end of the block and got out. The air was fresh and breezy and full of voices, laughter, and construction tools really going at it.
It was just cool enough, I was glad I’d thrown on my windbreaker.
Bertie’s voice carried over all the rest of the noise. “No, I want the aisles wider. You are placing wheelchair access to the outside, correct? If not, I could assign you to something with fewer moving parts. How do you feel about sweeping the sidewalks?”
Tark, the man in front of her and currently the target of her scorn, was part troll. He just rolled his eyes at her. “How many years, Bertie? How many years have I done this?” He hefted six folding chairs in each hand.
“Correctly or without complaining?”
“Both.”
“Zero.”
He chuckled and puckered an air kiss her way. “You know you love me.”
“I do nothing of the kind.”
“That’s all right,” he said, already backing away with the chairs and a big old grin. “I love you enough to make up for it.”
And then I saw something I’d never see in my life. Bertie blushed.
She actually bit her bottom lip and her whole face went an adorable shade of pink, totally clashing with her pantsuit.
What in the hell? Bertie never clashed. Never.
Did she have a crush on Tark? Were they dating? With some effort, I pulled my gaze away from Bertie and stared after Tark.
He’d turned his back and was lumbering toward the stage, carrying those chairs like they were feathers. Half troll meant he was short—the top of his thick, black curls put him a few inches under five feet. It also gave him massive shoulders, a barrel body, and legs like steam train pistons.
He was funny, a little grumpy, and a total powerhouse. I could appreciate all those things about him.
When I turned back to Bertie, it looked like she was appreciating all those things about him too.
Don’t tease the Valkyrie, Delaney. No teasing, my sense of self-preservation warned.
“Looks like somebody’s got a boyfriend,” I sing-songed. What could I say? My sense of self-preservation wasn’t worth missing out on this chance.
All the heat in Bertie’s face washed away, and when she turned to me, she was ice cold, one eyebrow raised. “Delaney Reed. It’s so lovely to see you. I have sidewalks that need to be swept.”
“I’d love to help out—no, don’t give me that look, I really would—but I have to put out other fires today. Thank you for getting the word out last night.”
She glanced at her clipboard, then glared at the team of women sorting through drapery, as if that look alone could make them work faster. “I assume you reached the others who shy from modern technology?”
“We did.”
“And the other issue?” She checked something off her list, then tapped the pen, looking at me expectantly.
I lowered my voice. “We still don’t know where or who the ghoul is. We’re working on it. Might have a lead on the god weapon thing. Have you heard of the spell book of the gods?”
“That was lost years ago.”
“And found and lost again. I know. There’s a missing page.”
“I…” She narrowed her eyes, as if she were trying to decide if I was lying.
“That’s what Crow told me. He said his spell was on that page.”
She pursed her lips like she’d just chewed through the center of a rotten lemon. “Of course it was his spell.”
“You don’t know anything about the page, do you?”
She gave a short shake of her head.
“Crow thinks a person or demon used it to break into the gods’ realms.”
“While I rarely care to agree with gods, and that god in particular, it would explain how the seemingly impossible has been made possible.”
“If you could keep your eye out for any sign of it, that would be really help
ful.”
She nodded. “Yes, yes. If I see it, I’ll contact you. The ghoul is not what I was asking about.”
I rolled the current mess of problems through my mind and came up blank.
“Have you spoken with Ryder?” she asked.
Oh. Yikes. “Um…I haven’t had a chance. The, um, Vivian Dunn came into town. He’s been with her.”
“All this time?”
“Mostly?”
She sighed. “Delaney, it isn’t as if I ask you to do much…”
“Every festival, every fundraiser, every clean-up crew,” I counted on raised fingers. She ignored me just like she always did and kept talking.
“…but I am low on performers this year and his participation is vital.”
“…crowd control, lost and found, that rhubarb judging…”
“If this is any indication of the level of dedication you and others are willing to offer our town then I am concerned who I may have to draft into the theater production we will be putting on in August. Frankly, it’s becoming an embarrassment to think our people are so uninterested in the community around them.”
She was just complaining. Bertie did that a lot. But there was something more to it this time. Almost as if she were actually worried that one of her events would not turn out as awesome as they always did.
Well, except for that first rodeo. That had been a disaster.
It was a strange idea that maybe Bertie, flawless, unflagging, unflappable Bertie might be feeling a little insecure. It was a strange idea that maybe she needed a little encouragement.
“We’re not uninterested,” I said. “Look at all these people already having a good time and the event hasn’t even started. This is going to be amazing, because it’s always amazing. There is not a single being in the universe I can think of who puts on better events than you, Bertie. You have set the standard, and no one has come anywhere close to reaching it.”
She blinked a couple times, as surprised at what I’d said as I’d been surprised it needed saying.
“You think I’m worried about my standards?”
“No. Nope. That is not what I said.”
“I have no doubt of my ability to create the most magnificent events out of nothing but backwoods dust. I have been doing it for a lifetime. I have been doing it long before you were born, Not Little Delaney.”
Oh, man. She was really angry. I hadn’t heard that name since I was six and insisted going to school meant I was Not Little Delaney any more.
“I know.”
“And I would hope that you know I do not rely on you to tell me how good my standards may be.”
“I know.”
“The standard is where I set it, when I set it, and how I set it. Precisely. No more and no less.”
“Robyn is never gonna win this fight,” I noted.
She blinked again. Her anger shifting to something that looked a lot more like delight.
“No,” she said, as throaty and happy as I’d ever seen her. It was a little frightening, frankly. “She will not.”
I grinned at her, and wonder of wonders, she grinned back. “So,” she said, back to business, back to being Bertie. “You will speak to Ryder today. I need an answer immediately.”
“I will speak to Ryder today. I promise.”
“Now would be good, Not Little Delaney. Otherwise, I may be forced to put you on the stage, and we would all prefer to be spared that debacle if possible.”
I nodded. “Yep. Now is good. I’ll just head that way. To talk to him. I’m sure he’s gonna love this idea.” I was backing away, smiling for all I was worth, hoping she didn’t swoop down and draft me into the production out of spite.
Luckily, she was distracted by the clatter of several metal chairs falling into each other.
The two teens who had been fake sword fighting between the aisles must have felt Bertie’s gaze. They looked up from the tangle of chairs, and their faces froze in fear.
I waved my arms, and their eyes ticked to me. “Run!” I shouted through my cupped hands. The boys took off like jackrabbits.
“Delaney,” Bertie scolded.
“Can’t stay, gotta run. Important police business.” I took my own advice and sprinted to the Jeep. I got out of there as quickly as I could, doing a slightly illegal U-turn out onto the main road.
Finding Ryder wasn’t the most important thing on my plate, but I had promised Bertie, and if I didn’t follow through, she would.
So I drove through town and parked at the Blue Owl. There were several cars in the lot and a couple semi-trucks. The diner was the only twenty-four-hour place in town, and since it was on the north side of town near the highway, it was a favorite stop for truckers.
It didn’t hurt that the food was amazing, or that Piper, one of the main waitresses, was a demigod who had a knack for knowing little bits of the future. She always seemed to know what you were going to order and when you needed your coffee refilled.
The Blue Owl’s big windows had booths set in them. From where I parked, I could see some of the patrons. As a matter of fact, I could see Ryder sitting opposite Vivian.
To anyone else he probably seemed relaxed, happy even. But I knew he was very aware he was sitting with a person who would hunt, capture, and maybe torture or kill people who just wanted to live their lives peacefully.
People who just wanted to have a good home, good food, good work, and to spend time with family and friends.
I loved him for standing up for them. Standing up for all of us.
I just didn’t like that he was taking this burden on alone. I should walk right in there and invite myself to breakfast.
Or maybe there was a better way to give him a break from Vivian Dunn.
I pulled out my phone and typed: Hey, handsome. How’s that hot scramble?
I pressed send. He sat up a little straighter and pulled his phone out of his pocket, still listening to whatever Vivian was saying.
He glanced at the phone. I knew when he’d finished, because he looked up and squinted through the window. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t see my Jeep since it was mostly blocked by a delivery van, but just in case, I leaned back so he wouldn’t see me in it.
A message buzzed on my phone.
Morning, love
Ah. Heart officially melted.
Need a break? I texted.
From breakfast?
From boring her out of town
There was a pause while he typed, erased and typed. He pressed send and looked out the window again. I scooched down lower, peering over the dash through the steering wheel.
Vivian, of course noticed all this. She must have asked him a question, because he shook his head and took another drink of coffee, squinting over the top of it, still searching for me.
I ducked my head and checked his message.
Why? What would you do to bore her? Talk to her about your top ten running sock preferences?
I grinned.
That would be riveting after hours of your talking about scale rulers and mechanical pencils.
My mechanical pencils are prose worthy
So are my socks
Challenge accepted. Your sock limericks vs my pencil poems
Slam poetry? Bring it. Also, gonna call
He raised one finger when his phone rang, and answered it with his hand over it. I heard him say, “Hang on, this is a work thing,” and watched as he stood away from the booth toward the front door and restrooms.
Piper met him halfway, a pot of tea and fresh fruit in each hand. She was bee-lining to Vivian.
It was good to know someone would keep her busy while I checked in with my man.
“Hey,” he said. “Sleep well?”
“Until Xtelle and Avnas showed up in our room. You?”
“Like a rock until I realized Vivian’s always been an early riser.”
I let that go by, not wanting to know how he knew that. She’d said they’d shared a room before, and he’d told me nothing had
happened between them. I would believe him a hundred times over her.
“Any idea yet on why she came to town?”
“She said she wasn’t on an assignment. There wasn’t something about Ordinary that brought her here. But there’s a shakeup in the Organization, and she’s climbing the ladder. If she found something supernatural, she could wedge her way into a higher position. Oregon was convenient. I think knowing me brought her here. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize. You didn’t know you’d been living among the supers all your life.”
“Only because someone wouldn’t tell me.”
“Weird. I wonder who that was?”
“That was you, Delaney.”
“How was I to know you would really be into those kinds of things?”
“My love of fantasy, mythology, science fiction, and monster movies didn’t tip you off?”
“Maybe that was a phase.”
“I don’t do phases. I love what I love. Forever.”
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry, my chest warm. “Forever, huh?”
“Forever.” His voice had gone low and warm. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to marry him.
I wanted to marry him so much.
“Well,” I said, the word coming out too breathy. “Well, that’s…well.”
He chuckled, and it rolled through me like electricity. I was lit up, alive from just the sound of him. Just the nearness of a simple phone call. And it was this man, only this man who had ever made me feel that way.
“I want to marry you,” I blurted out.
There was a slight pause, the click of his breath taken too quickly. “I want to marry you too,” he said. I could hear the humor in his voice and also the confusion. “But let’s get rid of our monster hunter before she catches wind of it. I am not inviting her to our big day.”
“Who would we even seat her next to?”
“Bertie. Because I would trust her to dispose of her body quickly and silently.”
