by Nazri Noor
I watched her, carefully.
“No one said it was a dog, Artemis.”
She watched me back, frozen.
“I think it’s time for you to go,” she said icily. Somewhere in the distance behind her, just among the trees, I spotted Priscilla. Her demeanor was changed, her eyes hard and menacing. She cracked her knuckles.
“Okay,” I said. “Geez, sorry I said anything. We’ll get out of your hair. Come on, Sterling.”
He whined when I tugged on his jacket. “Just a few seconds more,” he said. “Come on, please.”
“You can come back any time you want, vampire,” Artemis called out, sticking her paper umbrella in her hair. “It’s Dustin the Convocation doesn’t want here. He’s nosy. Asks too many questions.”
“Oh my God, I get it,” I groaned, tugging Sterling harder. “Let’s go.”
Artemis gave us a lazy salute. “Thanks for the Snacky Yum-Yums, boys.”
It was as polite a dismissal as I’d ever gotten from the entities. Artemis could have threatened me with a hail of arrows, or she could have had Priscilla rip me from crotch to cranium, but nothing. I took that as a good omen, of this really just her being loyal to the Convocation, and not truly detesting me specifically. I filed that away for future use.
A shimmering emerald portal made of vines and shrubbery waited for us in the jungle, very similar to the one we used to enter the domicile. The air back in Valero was so much colder, slamming into my body with such a chilly burst that I yelped out loud. Oddly, it also made me miss Herald a little bit. Man, he would know what to do, who to ask about Banjo.
But no sign of Banjo, or of Gil, for that matter. Sterling’s pocket made a little beep as soon as we stepped back into the arboretum. He pulled out his phone, and I peered over his shoulder to read.
“Rude,” he grunted.
“What?” I said. “It’s from Gil. Has to be.”
And it was. He’d taken Banjo back to the Boneyard, something he explained in a text that began with a very colorful string of expletives kindly asking where in the fuck we’d gone to. Sterling called him back as we snuck – sorry, ambled our way out of the Nicola Arboretum, just to assuage him.
“Artemis won’t help,” Sterling said into his phone in a bored monotone. “The Convocation hates Dustin. She didn’t want Banjo in her domicile – said he’d be trouble, whatever that means – so she blocked the two of you out.”
I couldn’t exactly make out what Gil was saying, but I definitely caught one or two obscenities in his reply.
Sterling rolled his eyes at me and chuckled. “Gil says he had to go dog and rush Banjo out of here, didn’t want to risk running into demons again. He thinks he’s developing a taste for corgi.”
My mouth dropped, horrified. “That’s not what I said!” Gil’s voice roared from the cellphone.
“Whatever, man, shut up, this is more interesting,” Sterling said. “Artemis’s domicile? Not dark and set at night like you’d expect. It was bright and sunshine-y. The sun appeared right in front of us, Gil. I didn’t burn.”
I had to smile at the wonder in Sterling’s voice, never having heard him be quite so, well, vulnerable. It was definitely something I hadn’t considered, ever. What would it be like to never see the world in daylight again, to start burning on contact with something as innocent as sunshine?
But Sterling stopped talking just as soon as a golden glow appeared a couple of dozen feet away from us. It was approaching, too, and considering our experiences of the past few days, I was starting to distrust anything that pulsed with an even remotely golden color. Fucking Mammon, again, and so soon? Or did Donovan break out of the Prism and come to attack us with another hit of bottled sunlight?
Donovan, I realized in horror, as Sterling grunted, then screamed, covering his face with his arms.
“Crouch down behind me,” I shouted, shielding him as best as I could with my body, wishing more than ever that I could shadowstep again, to save Sterling by taking him into the Dark Room. “Get down or you’ll burn.”
But it wasn’t just a random splash of sunlight, a quick burst from a shattered crystal phial. The glowing, moving orb was unmistakably a burning star. I watched, my mouth dry, as the sun itself approached us. Sterling screamed.
Chapter 25
My reflexes took over, and I hurled a fireball at the oncoming sphere of light before I even really had a chance to think. What the hell was that going to accomplish? I was literally fighting fire with fire. But then the golden light wavered, and an annoyed and very obnoxious voice called out from it.
“Hey, watch the paint job!”
It wasn’t anyone I recognized. The light faltered, leaving in its place the gaudiest car I’d ever seen in my life. It was metallic gold, from the body down to the rims. Even its headlights burned with gold light, which I was positive would be illegal, like, everywhere, but something told me that the car’s occupant didn’t care much for human laws.
The rear passenger door swung open, and out stepped a man, fuming so hard that I had to check that steam wasn’t coming out of his ears. The only way I could describe him, really, was sun-kissed. He was deeply tanned, his hair the kind of blond that almost passed for spun gold, his pearly teeth bared in anger. A surfer, essentially, judging by his build, dressed in a lot of white linen, his shirt opened nearly down to his navel.
“Watch where you throw those fireballs,” he said, patting the hood of his car, making babyish cooing sounds. “There, there. The bad man didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I threw my hands up. “You almost killed my friend.” I turned to check on Sterling. Poor thing was still huddling. I pulled him up gently by the elbows. “You’re good, buddy. You’re all good.”
“N-not exactly,” Sterling said. “I know this guy.”
The surfer with the campy car went wide eyed at the sight of Sterling. “Hey, I know you, too. Listen, sorry about that one time. Misunderstanding.”
Sterling pushed his hair out of his face, his whole body leaning forward as he shouted. “You burned a hole in my torso, you bastard.”
The man blinked. “Okay, so it was an accident.”
I put the pieces together. Sunlight, golden god, and a car – well, a chariot, once upon a time, that burned like the sun.
“Apollo?”
The god adjusted his shirt, the way that only a man who showed so much damn skin in a button-down would, and he flashed a smile somehow even cockier than anything Bastion could deliver.
“The one and only,” Apollo announced, his chest thrust out.
“And you two have history?” I said.
“We needed something from a sun god,” Sterling said, sulking. “In retrospect, I shouldn’t have come along for the communion, but I was younger then. Dumber.”
“It happened last year,” Apollo said.
Sterling hissed.
“I said I was sorry.” Apollo shrugged. “It’s kind of a reflex, you know? Vampire walks into my domicile, I blast it with sunlight.”
“I’m not an ‘it,’ you piece of – ”
I held my arm out against Sterling’s chest, pushing him back with all my might, which is harder than it sounds considering his brute vampire strength. He relented, though.
“How did you not burn the moment you walked into his domicile?” I said, trying to keep Sterling distracted. I had to acknowledge that fire magic wasn’t going to do much against a sun god, and even at his angriest, my favorite vampire would pretty much be useless in this particular fight.
“His domicile,” Sterling said, the fight in him wavering. “It’s in perpetual night.” His forehead furrowed. “Kind of the way that Artemis’s is set during the day.”
“And mine is by the beach,” Apollo said, gesturing at his clothes in explanation. “There are beautiful cabanas. We do seaside barbecues, night swimming. It’s all very Saint-Tropez.”
Sterling folded his arms and huffed. “Hardly.”
“Okay, that hurt,” Apollo said.
“But I deserved that. Please. Let bygones be bygones.”
I mirrored Sterling’s pose, folding my arms as well. “You hardly seem surprised that we know what the inside of your sister’s realm looks like. You know, it almost feels like you tracked us down deliberately.”
Apollo shrugged and held out his hands. “Well, you caught me. I didn’t realize Sterling here was tagging along, though, so I didn’t bother turning off the high beams.”
I shook my head. “What was the point of blaring all that sunlight at night, anyway?”
Apollo scratched his forearm, his lower lip turned up. “I thought it’d be more impressive.”
Sterling scoffed and stomped his foot.
“I don’t know how many more times I can say that I’m sorry. Listen. I’m only here to help.”
“I find it hard to take advice seriously from people who wear sandals,” Sterling growled. “Outdoors. At night.”
I clapped Sterling on the back. “Okay, buddy, that’s enough.”
“Oh, fine. I was only trying to help.” Apollo turned one shoulder, looking convincingly wounded as he headed back to his car. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
I sighed, hating to be stuck juggling two big old egos, but realizing that I genuinely wanted to hear Apollo out. “Come back. Sterling promises he’ll stop.”
Apollo batted his lashes hopefully.
“I said no such thing,” Sterling muttered.
“See?” I said. “All good. Now, what was it you wanted to talk about?”
“Right,” Apollo said, looking pleased to be of use. I was getting the impression that he didn’t get around much, that he was desperate for a chat. Was he just weird at night? Maybe his network was down after dark. What were they called again? The Conclave of the Sun. Right.
“So, I see a lot of things during the day,” Apollo said. “And sometimes, when it’s, you know, not-day. And I see that you’ve been having some troubles with this strange little magical dog you’ve picked up.”
“Can you tell us anything about it?” I said, suddenly hopeful.
Apollo shrugged. “Nada. It’s just not my area of expertise, you know? And I know that you tried to see my sister about it. Now, normally, I’d recommend you dig your nose into the arcane phonebook, poke around for an alternative solution, but she really is one of the best when it comes to identifying bizarro beasts. And she’s got a way with animals, too. Did you meet Priscilla?”
I nodded enthusiastically.
“Then you see my point,” Apollo said. “And this dirty business with the Midnight Convocation blocking contact, well, there’s really no way around it. Unless you somehow attract Artemis’s attention with an offering that’s big enough, and bold enough. Something more, shall we say, traditional, at least more than a bag of Snacky Yum-Yums.”
Somewhere behind me, Sterling growled.
“A feast. A big and proper feast. I’m talking entire roasted animals here. Great wine. The best stuff, too, all served on the best silverware you can find.”
“Silverware is just cutlery, right?” I said, rubbing my chin. “Unless you mean – ”
“That’s right. Silver plates, silver cups, at a minimum. Even better if you can spring for gold, but hey, moon goddess, she’ll probably be cool with silver. Probably.”
“This sounds expensive,” I said. “And difficult.”
Apollo shrugged. “It is. Hey, you’re looking for loopholes, this is it.”
Sterling threw an arm over my shoulder, an oddly possessive gesture, but at least it seemed like he was warming up to the conversation, if not to Apollo himself.
“So what, you’re saying we need to lug all of that over to her tether? Sneaking ourselves in is one thing, but how do you expect us to smuggle a whole roasted pig into the Nicola Arboretum? Among other things.”
“Ah,” Apollo said, sticking his hands on his hips, somehow even prouder than before. “That’s why you need me. Call on me when you perform the summoning – consecrate the circle, and present the offering, just like you would at any communion – and I’ll be there. If she senses my essence, she’ll come running.”
Apollo stood there with this goofy-ass grin on his face. He was so damn happy with himself, positively radiant. No, I mean literally. He needed to stop glowing or someone was going to notice.
Sterling nudged me. “So we can do it from inside the Boneyard? Have Banjo ready and everything. That way no one has to be in danger.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “Why are you helping us? Hell, why are you talking to us out in the open like this? Seems brutally dangerous for an entity.”
Apollo laughed, his chest heaving. “Where my chariot goes, a portion of my domicile follows.” He backed up a couple of feet, resting one hand firmly over the car’s roof, the way Sterling had his arm around my shoulder. “There. Unkillable. Mostly. As for why I’m helping?” He shrugged, his grin positively twinkling. “Maybe I’m just a really great guy, is all.”
I frowned. “So basically, you’ll be wanting us to return the favor.”
“Just you, Dustin Graves,” Apollo said, fishing something out of his shirt pocket. A business card, it looked like, held between two fingers. “If you take my bargain – oh, who am I kidding, when you take my bargain? Give me a call.”
I reached over, taking the cream-colored card. It was embossed with a symbol of the sun, its rays angular like bolts of lightning. Along the bottom was Apollo’s phone number. He was one of those entities, then, unafraid of a little technology. I tucked the card away in one of my pockets.
“We’ll give you a call,” I said. “Maybe.”
When Apollo laughed again, the night lit up with a sudden flare of sunlight. Sterling cringed.
“I’ll be waiting, Dustin. Can’t wait to meet the rest of your friends.” The night brightened just a little bit more when he grinned. “And your little dog, too.”
I grimaced. “I give up. How the hell does everyone know about the dog?”
Apollo chuckled. “How indeed. There are eyes and ears everywhere, Dustin. I’m personally more curious about the nephilim.”
My heart clenched, but before I could say anything, Apollo and his chariot vanished.
Chapter 26
Hot water poured down my back, washing some of the grime of the evening away, sending it swirling down the drain. I soaped myself off, careful to hit all the important spots – under each arm, behind the ears, between the legs, back and front, thanks very much – because let me tell you, routine can go all to hell when you’ve got a lot on your mind. I had to stop myself from putting facial wash in my hair, twice.
What was on my mind, you wonder? Oh, not much. An exploding dog. A half human, half angel hybrid. Twin deities of the sun and moon, one playing hot, the other cold. Plus a demon prince of hell, and somewhere, lurking in the darkness, a rogue Hound of the Lorica.
How did this all connect? And whatever happened to Delilah Ramsey and her Society of Robes? I needed to check with Bastion on that. I rinsed myself off, muttering Bastion’s name to myself, over and over, just so I wouldn’t forget about asking.
I reached for my phone by the sink as soon as I got out of the shower, the towel barely clinging to my hips, my thumbs hovering over the screen. I hesitated. See, I didn’t think sending a text message at three in the morning was the nicest thing to do. Sounded like a booty call, you know? Not that I’d ever thought of Bastion that way. Not until that weird staring thing he did by the pool.
No. Hush, stop that.
And some questions just led to even more questions. Apollo, for example. What did he really want? Was he working with Amaterasu? The less contact I had with the Japanese pantheon, frankly, the better. I still wasn’t over Izanami’s betrayal, and Apollo’s membership in the Conclave of the Sun suggested very unpleasant possibilities.
But he was offering a direct line to Artemis. What choice did we have? I’d have to talk things out with the boys, check with Carver on what kind of budget we could af
ford for figuring out what the hell Banjo was, and why everybody wanted him. And Mason, for that matter.
I’d just barely shrugged on a pair of boxers, about to text Bastion anyway, when I heard someone in my bedroom clearing their throat. The hell? I was pretty sure I locked the door, plus that voice came from outside my head. Definitely not Vanitas. I probed the ethers for a connection, but V wasn’t responding. Either he was asleep, or something was stopping us from communicating properly.
I grabbed the straight razor Herald gave me as a present, the one I never used. Just – just in case. I opened the bathroom door just a crack, one hand gripped tightly around the razor, the other ready to shoot a barrage of fireballs, when I saw the source of the coughing noise sitting on my bedside table.
“Scrimshaw? Is that you?”
The imp glanced over his shoulder, caught my eyes, and smiled. “Dust!” he said, looking genuinely pleased to see me. “It’s been a while.”
I waved a hand under my nose, trying to waft away the odor of brimstone. “I should have known it was you by the smell.”
He put one hand to his waist and shook his head. “Well, that’s no way to greet a friend.”
“Sorry, sorry,” I said. “It’s been a long night, my manners must have gone down the drain when I took that shower. How have you been? Also, your presence is making me super anxious. Why are you here? Is something wrong?”
“Well, first, I’ve been great. My boss lets me on a longer leash these days. The freelance writing is going well, thanks for asking. And second, yeah, I get that. I’m not exactly good news when I show up, am I?”
“To be fair, that’s not entirely accurate,” I said. “You bring good news, um, sometimes, I suppose. But something’s up. It’s in the air. And not just the brimstone smell, either.”
“God, I get it,” Scrimshaw said, his little face screwed into a tight frown. “Also, uh, you have to trust me on this, but I was coerced. Someone wants to see you.” Scrimshaw’s eyes went blank, the copper hue of his skin suddenly tinged with a golden sheen, his eyeballs like brilliant emeralds. “This imp is here as a messenger, to herald the coming of one greater than itself.”
