Sin City Goddess

by Annino, Barbra

“You first,” he said.

  I pushed the door open. There, taking up the entire sectional sofa, was the largest black dog I had ever seen. He had pointy ears, a long tail, and a leather-spiked collar. He was sleeping. And snoring.

  “Where did it come from?” I asked.

  “How the hell should I know?”

  At the sound of Archer’s voice, the dog woke up. He lifted his watermelon-sized head, tilted it, and blinked his amber-colored eyes.

  “I don’t think they allow pets in the room,” Archer said.

  Something about the beast’s eyes were familiar.

  It wasn’t until he tackled me that I knew who he was.

  “Cerberus, get off!”

  He was nuzzling me, leaving trails of snot across my neck and chest.

  Archer stepped around me and set the duffel bag on the table.

  At his movement, Cerberus turned his head and growled at him.

  Archer backed up. “Yeah, see, that’s the thing. I don’t think he likes me.”

  “Cerberus, be kind.” I crawled out from beneath the beast.

  “He’s as big as a tiger. I’ve never seen a Great Dane that big.”

  “He isn’t a Great Dane. He’s Hades’s hound, cloaked to resemble a mortal dog.”

  “Why is he here?” Archer asked.

  Cerberus glared at Archer. The lawman took several more steps back.

  “Artemis sent him. For protection, I suppose.” I cocked my head and looked at Cerberus. “Maybe we’ve found our bird hunter.”

  Cerberus wagged his tale and shattered a vase.

  I asked, “Has he eaten?”

  “Sure, I had a midsized cow delivered about an hour ago.”

  I shot Archer a warning look. “Order him some food.” I stretched, suddenly drained of all energy. “I’m going to bed.”

  “What? You’re kidding, right? You’re going to…” He glanced at the hound. “You’re leaving me alone with him?”

  I headed up the stairs. “Just feed him, Archer. He’ll be your buddy for life. He adores elk.”

  “Elk? Where am I going to get an elk?”

  I turned and smiled at him. “You’re resourceful, Lawman. You’ll think of something.”

  “Wait, you never told me what happened tonight. Don’t you want to know what I did? I got you a sword and some stuff we’ll need.”

  I waved behind my head. “Tomorrow, Archer. It’ll wait until tomorrow.”

  The knock on my door came less than an hour later. “Tisi. Tisi, can I come in? Please?”

  “Go away.” I had been sleeping soundly, dreaming of flying high over the river Styx, dropping rocks on Charon’s head.

  The door creaked open. “Tisi, can I sleep in here tonight? Your friend crashed on my bed, and he doesn’t look like he’s moving anytime soon.”

  My eyes were still shut. “Kick him off.”

  “With what, a cattle prod? Tisi, please. I need a lock between him and me.”

  Oh, for the love of Zeus. “Fine.” I pulled back the covers. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

  “Thank you.”

  A ray of light shining in from the hallway glinted off his eyes. Archer was wearing striped boxer shorts and a white T-shirt. Before he climbed into the bed, he pulled the T-shirt up and over his head. His shoulders were sculpted, his abdominal muscles defined, his back strong. He had a smooth chest, with a thick scar above his heart. I couldn’t help but wonder where it had come from. Who had hurt him? Had he been a child when the wound was fresh? I watched as he turned to shut and lock the door.

  He smiled at me as he climbed into bed. “Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  He rolled away from me, and something inside me wished he hadn’t. There was a part of me that longed to lay my head on his chest, curl my fingers through his hair, trace the lines of his hips. I wanted him to touch me, hold me, kiss me.

  I didn’t know if it was the city itself, the adrenaline from the flight, or the need to feel that this mission would end well. All I knew at that moment was that I wanted us to get lost in each other.

  “Archer?” I whispered.

  But he didn’t answer.

  Chapter 25

  It’s amazing how a little threat goes a long way. She shut up, finally. The bitch was lucky she still had her eyes.

  He drove out to the desert late that night and buried the body. It was cool; there was a west wind coming in from California. He thought about the countless times he had disposed of his playmates. Wondered how many were ever found. He wasn’t the type to keep track of his victims or the families. He never took a souvenir, as some did. That was sloppy. Dangerous. The kind of rookie mistake that got you caught.

  He never got caught.

  Oh, he’d been in prison, true, but not for this. Not for killing. It was a trumped-up charge, if you asked him. He hadn’t raped that bitch—that was bullshit. It was her job, for crying out loud. And he had paid her well. Sure, maybe he had been a bit rough, but deep down, she wanted it—he knew she wanted it. He could hear her voice in his head, telling him to hit her. Telling him she was a bad girl who needed to be punished.

  Who was he to argue with her?

  But he didn’t have to worry about that anymore. He was much more careful now that he had his secret weapon.

  The shovel was in the trunk. He’d make sure to dispose of it later, then wash the car out pretty thoroughly—something else rookies never remembered. Cleaning was key. Science had made some remarkable advances since he’d been locked up. The tiniest thread could get you pinched. A wad of gum; a fucking straw, for Christ’s sake. Couldn’t leave that shit lying around. After he had cleaned up the mess of her on the floor, the walls, and the sheets, he had bagged all that shit and burned it. He had bleached the place down, with the help of one of the other girls, and burned the rags too.

  It was getting late, but he felt like a drink. Digging holes was hard work. He deserved some fun. He stopped over at his favorite spot, the Shadow Bar, and that’s when he saw her.

  He couldn’t believe his luck! She was perfect. She fit the look his partner insisted on to a tee. And that flying act. Wow. That was the shit, man. That was the coolest show he’d seen in a while.

  Too bad she had to die.

  That was the breaks, though. You’re born, you live, you die. If you’re lucky enough to have a little fun along the way, then you’re lucky enough.

  He was prepared to nab her after her shift, but she cut out early. He had everything with him too. It would have been so easy. He spotted her again, getting on the elevator, but he missed it. So he went back to the bar and waited for her. She didn’t show, but Sam gave him her name.

  Tisiphone.

  Sam said he didn’t know when she worked next, but he did say he thought she was a friend of Clyde’s. Said she had come in and auditioned on the spot. Said she liked her drink too.

  Good. That would make it easier.

  Chapter 26

  I woke up with Archer’s arm around me and something poking me in the back.

  “That better be my sword, Archer.”

  “Huh?” he grumbled. After a moment, he shifted. “Oh. Sorry about that.”

  He rolled over onto his back. The sheet was draped just above his waist. The scar on his chest was a vicious red slash in the morning light. I leaned over and touched it.

  “How did you get that?”

  He looked down at his chest, at my hand.

  I snapped my hand back. “Sorry.”

  He smiled lazily. “Don’t be. I like it when you touch me like that. Sure beats getting sucker-punched.”

  I pretended to punch him. He grabbed my hand playfully, and our eyes locked. I stopped breathing for a moment, stopped thinking. The world melted away, and it was just the two of us in that great big bed. I leaned forward.

  Cerberus barked, and the spell broke.

  Archer sat up. He touched his scar. “That was a parting gift from my ex-wife.”

  I was st
unned. “She stabbed you?”

  “Yep.” He got out of bed and put his shirt on. “Said I was always choosing my job over her. She was drunk. Things got ugly. I took her keys when she tried to drive home from the restaurant where we were having dinner. She grabbed a steak knife and ruined my best shirt. The next day, I told her I wanted a divorce.”

  He sounded melancholy.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “It was for the best. She was never going to stop drinking, and I was never going to stop being an agent. We were both miserable.”

  “And that’s when you took to drink?” I asked.

  He hesitated before he spoke again. “Actually, I never did that. I just said that because I didn’t want to tell you that Cheryl was an alcoholic.”

  “Why not?” Did he still love her? Did he still think about her?

  Archer sighed. “I guess it’s because I protected her for so long. Took care of her for so long. It’s a habit that’s hard to break. Even after that person dies.”

  “She died?” That meant she must have been somewhere in the Underworld.

  “Wrapped her car around a tree a year after our divorce was final. She told me she was trying to quit drinking the day before. Said she wanted to reconcile. I believed her. Until I got that phone call.”

  How awful. First she lost Archer, then her life. To not get a second chance to battle your demons, to rectify your mistakes, was the cruelest form of fate.

  “It was a long time ago, Tisi. And I’m dead, remember?” Archer said when I grew quiet.

  “You could find her. In the Underworld. I could help you.” I didn’t really want to, but if it eased his suffering, I would.

  Archer stared at me for a long while. His voice was softer when he said, “I buried those ghosts a long time ago, Tisiphone. I am not a man who looks back. I believe in starting with what’s right in front of me and moving forward.”

  I didn’t say anything. I was speechless.

  He pointed at the door. “Now, there’s a dog the size of a garbage truck behind this door who wants to sink his teeth into my ass. So are you going to escort me past Cujo so I can take a shower and get dressed?”

  I didn’t know who Cujo was, but I climbed out of bed anyway and padded over to the door.

  “Hey, your wings. I can’t see them anymore,” Archer said.

  I turned to check my reflection in the mirror.

  He was right. They were cloaked again. I didn’t know how Hecate’s potions worked, but I was relieved. Not only because they were hidden, but because I knew I could call on them if need be.

  When I opened the door, Cerberus was sitting there, still as a gargoyle, gently wagging his tail.

  I patted his head and pointed to Archer. “Good guy. He’s on our side, all right, Cerberus?”

  The dog swung his giant head toward my partner. He looked doubtful, even a bit disappointed, but he slunk off anyway.

  Archer thanked me and headed for his room. I had just opened the dresser drawer to gather clothing for the day, when I heard. “Aw, dammit! He peed on my bed!”

  I left Archer to bond with our new roommate while I showered and dressed.

  Twenty minutes later, wearing jeans, boots, and a black tank top, I joined the two of them in the common area.

  Cerberus had his head in Archer’s lap. The man was gently stroking the hound’s fur as he watched the morning newscast. A soft sigh slipped through the jowls of the beast.

  I eyed Archer suspiciously and parked my hands on my hips. “That was fast.”

  “I gave him a beer. Three, actually. He loves the stuff.”

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed the room-service menu. “Did you at least let him out to do his business first?”

  “He already did his business on my bed. Besides, I couldn’t find a leash.”

  “You don’t leash a hound of Hades. It’s undignified. You just let him out. He’ll find his way.”

  “I don’t think they allow pets. We could get ourselves kicked out of here. Not to mention there are leash laws in Las Vegas.”

  I peeked over the menu at Archer. “And who would stop him?”

  Archer looked at Cerberus. “Good point.” The dog shifted his head to the side, indicating he wanted his left ear scratched. Archer obliged.

  I picked up the telephone. “Would you like an omelet?”

  “Sure. Western.”

  I ordered two omelets, six orders of sausage, eight orders of bacon, and two dozen scrambled eggs. Plus coffee and Gatorade.

  Archer said, “I bought Gatorade.”

  I canceled the Gatorade and thanked the person on the other end of the phone.

  Archer told me the Gatorade was in the refrigerator. I opened it and discovered the juice in every color of the rainbow. I looked at Archer.

  It was so thoughtful. There weren’t many in my life who were that considerate of my wants and needs.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Check the duffel bag.”

  I unzipped the black-and-blue bag and saw two silver, electronic-looking devices with numbers on the top of them. I pulled them out and set them on the table.

  “Those are called cell phones. So we can stay connected. They’re prepaid phones, so you just buy them at the store, no need to sign a contract or anything. No bells and whistles, but they’ll do for our purposes.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about or how to use the device, but the concept appealed to me. Beneath the phones was a firearm, for Archer, I assumed, and a sword for me. I extracted the sword from the bag. It wasn’t a large sword, and not nearly as heavy as I was used to, but after I enchanted it, it would conform to my hand, surge with my flesh, and become a part of me.

  “Is it okay? I got it at Excalibur.”

  I smiled at Archer. He was wearing khaki shorts and a button-down shirt with blue waves running through it that brought out the green in his hazel eyes.

  “It’s perfect.”

  I ran my hand along the shiny blade of the sword. The hilt was a dragon’s tail, the pommel its head, and the guard its wing. The dragon’s head was punctuated with one purple eye.

  We had two traits in common, the sword and I. Making it my own should not be a problem.

  I had my sword and my wings. I was ready for battle.

  “So, Sassy, you want to tell me what happened last night?” Archer asked.

  I placed the sword on the table and grabbed a Gatorade just as our food arrived. Two carts full. I asked the delivery person to leave the food outside so he wouldn’t see the hound.

  After he left, I wheeled it in. Archer set the trays on the table while I fed Cerberus. He was a slow eater, and he took his food lying down.

  As we ate, I explained to Archer about Jessica and how she had known my sisters, and about the man who threw the beer bottle and how that had ignited my fury.

  Archer was slack-jawed when I finished. “You flew? Right through the screen?”

  “That’s not all.” I sprinkled pepper on my potatoes. Archer dug into his omelet.

  I took a few bites of potatoes. They were crisp on the outside and tender on the inside. I wiped my mouth with a cloth napkin before I told Archer about Clyde, Sam, and the loose juice.

  Archer got up to grab a pad of paper and a pen from the desk on the far wall. He jotted down a few notes, asked a few questions, then piled a forkful of potatoes into his mouth. He sat there, chewing and stewing.

  I cut into my omelet. The cheese oozed out, and I spooned it up with my toast and ate it. It was delicious.

  “That son of a bitch,” Archer said. “He’s got women disappearing from his bar, and he’s the one supplying the psycho who’s taking them with the drugs?”

  “It seems so. He isn’t the brightest man. Perhaps he didn’t make the connection.” I sipped my Gatorade.

  “Or maybe he’s the guy.”

  I thought about slamming Clyde’s head into his own desk and how he had begged me to stop. I didn’t think he had the st
omach for murder.

  I took a bite of my omelet.

  “What? You’ve got that look you get when you think you should tell me something but you don’t really want to tell me.”

  So I did. I told him about threatening Clyde and the nice lump I had given him.

  Archer smiled and shook his head.

  “You’re not mad?” I asked.

  “Hell no. That asshole deserved it.” He buttered a piece of toast. “I probably would have done the same thing.” He winked at me.

  At that moment, I truly felt like we were a team.

  The phone rang.

  Archer picked it up. “Hey, Clyde, you piece of shit, we were just talking about you.”

  I had almost forgotten—I had demanded a meeting with Sam this morning.

  I glanced at the television set, enjoying my breakfast, as Archer spoke with Clyde. There was a mousy-haired woman standing in front of what looked like an ancient ruin. She was talking about some archeological expedition and the “find of the century.” The woman motioned behind her, and the camera zoomed in on a cave surrounded by pillars and a stone doorway. The mouth of the opening was emitting steam in a steady stream.

  I turned up the volume.

  “Archeologists in Turkey have uncovered what they believe is the mythological Pluto’s Gate, or the Gate to Hell.” The woman glanced at a card in her hand. “The expedition unveiled ancient remains of a pool, a temple dedicated to the deities of the Underworld, and steps leading to the cave—which, it is important to note, still emits lethal gases.”

  I dropped my fork. It skipped across my plate and onto the floor.

  Oh. My. Gods.

  They found it.

  And—worse—they opened it.

  Chapter 27

  Archer hung up the phone, and I heard him go upstairs. The water ran for a few minutes; then he came back down. “Sam will be waiting for us downstairs in half an hour.”

  I turned around to face him. Something about the way I looked made him ask, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Remember that gate I told you about? The doorway to the Underworld?” I raised the volume on the television and pointed.

  The reporter was still talking as the graphic of a scroll appeared on the screen. It was populated with a curvy text. “The Greek geographer Strabo once wrote, ‘This space is full of a vapor so misty and dense that one can scarcely see the ground. Any animal that passes inside meets instant death. I threw in sparrows and they immediately breathed their last and fell.’”