Lucky Courage (9781370361410)

by Washington, Amanda

  “Isn’t there anywhere unpopulated you can take us?” Demarco asked.

  “The forest outside of Asclepieion is a neutral territory, so no fighting the gods there. I know of a few other enchanted lands, but chances are good we’d raise enough racket to attract a troll, ogre, harpy, or some other creature who’d insist on joining in on the fray. Probably not on our side either.”

  “We don’t need added complications,” Demarco replied.

  Since we didn’t know what else to do, we headed back to Demarco’s place and searched the Internet for tin-rich locations. According to our research, China and Indonesia were rich in tin. Of course, they were also both heavily populated. I’d been to Beijing before, but had stayed close to the city. I didn’t even know if China had rural areas, and if so, how we’d get to them.

  We had the same problem with Indonesia. I’d only ever been to Surabaya, and there was nothing but city and sea there.

  “We need a travel agent,” I said, staring at the computer.

  Demarco grunted in disgust.

  “I’m still having nightmares about the last one,” Tweety agreed.

  So was I, but unfortunately, we needed one. And no traditional travel agent would do. I’d have to find one who wasn’t fully human so a contract could bind them to their word. My last travel agent was Lorna Smith, who turned out to be a pheromone spewing, blood-drinking, flesh-eating nasty known as the Empusa.

  “This time we’ll find someone a little less deadly. Maybe even a vegetarian with nice normal teeth and hair that doesn’t catch on fire,” I assured the guys. “A travel agent’s a necessity if we want to hit some of these more remote places I’ve never been to. I need a picture no more than five days old in order to fix a clear image of our destination in my mind. If it’s not recent and I can’t recreate it, we could get stuck in the realm of Erebus again.”

  “No thanks,” Tweety said, shuddering. “Once was enough for me.”

  “You and me both.” Truthfully, I’d been stuck in my grandsire’s realm of darkness and shadows more times than I’d care to admit. Best to keep that little detail about my horrifying upbringing to myself.

  I went back to studying the list of countries producing the most tin. “Peru has potential. Check out this population density map. There’s this whole area in the northeastern part… looks unpopulated. If we find an area heavy in tin there, we could pull this off with no human casualties. Since I’ve never been to Peru before, a travel agent is a necessity.”

  Demarco’s e-mail pinged. I handed him the laptop and he opened his inbox. “We can pick up the bags of copper bullion scrap Monday through Friday, eight to five. They’re located in Harbeson, Delaware.”

  “Great, one problem solved. Except I’ve never been to Harbeson, Delaware either. Any ideas where I can find a not-completely-human travel agent?”

  “What about Auto?” Tweety asked. “He seems to know everyone of power. Bet he’d know of a travel agent we can trust.”

  I could have kissed the griffin. “Tweety, you’re a genius!” A few key strokes on Demarco’s laptop yielded the website for Auto’s nightclub.

  Demarco reached over my shoulder and clicked on the “contact us” page. Lots of names and faces populated, but none of them were Auto or Mike.

  “Why can’t anything be easy?” I complained.

  “I wouldn’t mind returning to the nightclub,” Tweety said, his eyes lighting up as he stood. “I still owe that one person a dance.”

  “Or… you can call the club tonight when they open,” Demarco offered.

  Tweety collapsed back on the loveseat.

  Right. Demarco had a phone in his house. Which had to be a special kind of cruel and unusual punishment to his mother who had people to call, but couldn’t. Not without them going crazy trying to find her.

  “Okay, I’ll reach out to Mike tonight,” I said. “But meanwhile, we have two more days until we have to meet with Eris and Talon, and we can’t really do anything until Auto’s club opens. Also, Tweety needs to get out of the house before he drives us all crazy. So, what do you say we go pick up some groceries?”

  And condoms. We needed condoms.

  The smile Demarco gave me told me he knew exactly what I was thinking.

  Tweety jumped up from the loveseat again, hurrying to put on his sandals before we took back the offer. “I’ve never been to a grocery store before. I want to get some of that cereal with the bird on it. Oh, and some of those elf cookies. Oh, oh, and the fruit snacks that explode in your mouth.”

  I sighed. No doubt we’d be buying everything Tweety had seen a commercial for over the past four years. “Bump those ideas, Tweety. I’m getting you birdseed.”

  He leveled a stare at me. “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

  Demarco chuckled as he laced up his boots.

  * * *

  Grocery shopping was every bit the adventure I feared it would be. I took the guys to a grocery store in one of the suburbs of Seattle, where Demarco and I spent hours trailing Tweety up and down the aisles as he hunted for every product he’d seen advertised on television, while singing product jingles and quoting taglines.

  “Well, at least he’s got a decent voice,” Demarco said about thirty minutes into the trip.

  “No, he’s goofing off now,” I replied. “When he really starts singing, you’ll be impressed. Kid’s super talented. Just do yourself a favor and don’t watch any of those singing talent shows with him. Big mistake. He critiques every note. It’s painful.”

  Demarco chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he leaned closer and whispered, “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go find condoms.”

  His breath tickled my neck and sent a shiver of excitement through my body. He brushed my hair back and kissed the sensitive spot beneath my ear before heading out on his task. As soon as Demarco rounded the corner Tweety gave me a goofy grin (which probably matched my own) and a wink. I shook my head at the griffin, but he only smiled wider and went back to singing about Mentos, the fresh-maker.

  We spent hours wandering around the store before we were finally able to herd Tweety toward the checkout lines. I stood with the cart as the guys prowled around the front of the store, making sure Tweety didn’t miss anything he wanted to try.

  “One-fifty-nine?!” exclaimed a silver-haired lady three people ahead of me. “Last week I paid seventy-three cents for that same can of tomatoes.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but food production costs have driven up the prices,” the clerk replied. “There’s nothing we can do. It’s a nation-wide issue.”

  “I’m on a fixed income. I can’t spend one-fifty-nine for a single can of tomatoes. There has to be something someone can do.”

  I tried to ignore their conversation, but guilt tugged at my conscience. It was partially my fault this elderly woman was in this predicament—that the entire country was experiencing a food shortage—and here we were buying everything our griffin fancied while little old ladies were having trouble justifying the cost of canned tomatoes.

  The scanner beeped again.

  “Two dollars?!” the old woman exclaimed. “Two dollars for a can of soup? And that’s the off-brand! I don’t know how long I’ll be able to afford to eat at these prices.”

  That did me in. I couldn’t help the entire country, but I could help her. I needed to. I palmed a hundred-dollar bill before squeezing past the man in front of me to get to the checkout stand. The old lady was so busy complaining about the prices scrolling across the screen, she didn’t even notice when I dropped the bill into the purse slung over her shoulder on my way past.

  I got to the end of the checkstand, grabbed an iced tea from the drink cooler, and headed back to my cart with nobody the wiser. It was silly, but I felt proud of myself. I’d never done such a thing before, and imagining the woman’s face when she found the money made me borderline giddy.

  “What are you smiling about?” Demarco asked as I approached the cart. “And where’d you go?” His gaze d
ropped to the tea in my hand and his eyebrow arched in question. A gallon of iced tea was one of the many items in our cart.

  Ignoring his first question, I focused on the latter. “I’m thirsty. Wanted a cold drink. You want one?”

  “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  He kept watching me, but I chewed on my lip and started reading the tabloid covers while half-listening to what was happening at the register.

  “What on earth?!” the silver-haired woman exclaimed. “How did this get out of my wal—” She gasped.

  Pretending to be completely absorbed in the tabloids, I leaned forward and sneaked a peek at the scene. The silver-haired woman had just unraveled the bill and was staring at it in shock. I fought the smile tugging at my lips and went back to perusing the headlines.

  “What’s so interesting?” Demarco asked, leaning over me to see what I was looking at.

  I felt stupid for being excited over such a little thing, and didn’t want to tell him. I’d given the woman a hundred dollars. It was nothing. Determined to force my emotions to chill the freak out, I grabbed the first magazine in front of me and studied the cover. The top headlines included “50 Ways to Please Your Man in Bed” and “How to Get the Beach Bod You Always Wanted.” I flashed him the cover and his eyebrows shot up his forehead.

  “Would you like to use this to pay?” the clerk asked.

  “I don’t know where it came from,” the silver-haired woman admitted. “It was sitting right on top. Like someone just up and put it there.”

  Demarco nudged me and nodded to the checkstand. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

  Careful not to look at him, I put the magazine back and selected another. “With what?”

  Before he could respond, Tweety joined us with a box of Frosted Pop-Tarts. The silver-haired woman paid and left, and the line lurched forward as he tossed them on top of the pile threatening to spill out of our cart.

  I could still feel Demarco watching me, and I needed a subject change, so I picked up the box of Frosted Pop-Tarts and read the ingredients. “Really, Tweety? Is this even food?”

  “Yes, of course it is.” Tweety snatched the box from my hand and pointed to the front. “It’s even vitamin fortified.”

  Demarco’s arms wrapped around me, and I was suddenly pulled against his hard chest. He dropped his head to hover just above my ear and whispered, “You’re a good person, Romi.”

  I doubted such a simple, silly act could make up for even a fraction of all the things I’d done in the past, but his words—paired with the silver-haired woman’s reaction when she’d found the bill—left me feeling warm and gooey inside.

  “She needed money and I’ve got plenty. Not a big deal,” I replied, shrugging him off so I could start loading the groceries onto the belt.

  Demarco kissed the top of my head before releasing me so he could help.

  AFTER BUYING ONE of almost everything the grocery store had to offer, we had more bags than we could ever hope to take in one trip through the shadows, and the parking lot was bustling with activity. No way people wouldn’t notice us popping in and out of existence to empty a cart.

  Thanks to my deal with Demarco, I couldn’t even steal the shopping cart, so we ended up mouth breathing, huddled between a stinky Dumpster and the side of the building as we loaded our arms and went back and forth to the beach.

  “I had no idea walking the straight and narrow would lead me here,” I said, gesturing at the Dumpster before I grabbed the guys’ hands for our last delivery trip.

  Once all the bags were on the beach, we carted everything into the house to put it away. Or we tried, but Tweety kept sampling the goods.

  “Romi, you’ve gotta try this,” the griffin said, waving something in front of my face.

  I eyed his offering before wrinkling my nose. “Peanut butter and jelly on a piece of bread. Already tried it. Not a novelty, Tweets.”

  “But the peanut butter and jelly were in the same jar. Makes it taste so much better, and imagine the time we’ll save just scooping out of one jar.”

  Seconds. We’d save seconds. “That “better” taste is probably from cancer-causing preservatives.”

  He gave me puppy dog eyes and I took a bite of the damn sandwich. “Grape jelly. My mind is officially blown. Now help me finish.” I handed him a box of cereal.

  After the groceries were put away, we packed food, supplies, and sleeping bags to prepare for our trip to Peru. Then we each grabbed a beverage and headed out to the shop.

  “Let’s never do that again,” Demarco said, collapsing onto the sofa.

  I dropped my backpack on the floor and removed my boots. “Unfortunately, we’re gonna have to keep buying groceries unless you want to starve. Especially with the way Tweety eats. Although… maybe next time we can leave him behind and make the experience less painful.”

  Tweety kicked off his sandals. “I heard that.”

  “I would hope so,” I shot back. No sense in wasting a good insult, after all.

  He stretched out across the loveseat, head resting on the non-broken armrest while his thighs were stretched over the broken one. His feet almost fully reached the floor, making him look comically over-sized for the small couch.

  The guys were settled and resting, but I couldn’t seem to do the same. My mind kept spinning in circles, going over the to-do list I couldn’t yet do anything about. We needed to pick up the copper, but needed the battle location first. No sense in dragging it here only to turn around and move it again. But we wouldn’t have a battle site until we had a travel agent. I needed to get a recommendation from Mike, but Auto’s club didn’t open for several hours and I had no way to contact him until it did.

  Which left me nothing to do now, except worry. Worrying wasn’t constructive, and I needed something that was. I sat beside Demarco and grabbed The Lowly Pawn’s Comprehensive Guide for Surviving Amongst Gods from the coffee table.

  “What are you looking for?” Demarco asked.

  “This is only the second essence,” I muttered. “Instead of sitting around here, we should be planning how to get back the next one. I’m going to do some research. Hermes, Hades, and Poseidon each have one of the essences and of the three, Hermes sounds the least frightening. I’ll just—”

  Demarco grabbed my hands. He gently closed the book and set it back on the table. Then he pulled me into his embrace and kissed my forehead. “We’ll get it done, I promise. Sit down and take a breather. Relax.”

  It felt so good to be tucked under his arm, and I really did try to relax, but I couldn’t do it. Within minutes I’d managed to wiggle free and was pacing the floor.

  “I know what we can do,” Tweety said, sitting up. “D, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the thing you did to that bouncer at the club. I’ve never fought in this form… never had a reason to. But with everything going on, it might be a good idea for me to learn how to use my fists. Think you can teach me how to hit a guy like you hit the bouncer?”

  I knew how to fight, but brushing up on techniques sounded much better than sitting around waiting. “I want in on this too. I haven’t sparred in almost a month and can use the practice.”

  “Spar as in fight?” Tweety asked.

  “Of course.”

  “When? Who do you spar with?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Tweety, I was gone a lot, which was why I needed you to help me with Doreán. Remember some of those days I didn’t even come home and you’d ask what I did while I was gone and I’d say “training” and you’d say “oh” and go back to building Legos or train tracks or playing video games, or whatever you and the kiddo were up to. What exactly did you think I was up to?”

  “I don’t know. You never said you were sparring with people.”

  “Sometimes I came home so sore and bruised I could barely walk. I’d spend hours in the bathtub. You were never curious about why I was limping around the flat?”

  “You said training. I thought you meant stealing stuff, a
nd maybe you were clumsy and fell sometimes. I didn’t realize you were fighting.” Tweety stood. “Why didn’t you ever offer to teach me some moves?”

  “I was sore and hurting when I get home from those trainings. I swear you don’t listen to a word I say.”

  “Not true, Romi. I listen to a solid ten percent of everything that comes out of your mouth.”

  I wanted to stomp on his foot, but settled for throwing my head back to stare at the ceiling and ask, “Why me?”

  “Because you said I needed to learn sarcasm,” Tweety quipped.

  Demarco chuckled and stood. “Perhaps some training videos and a little sparring would be good. I bet we could all work off some frustration.”

  “Yeah, and I want to kick Tweety’s ass,” I muttered.

  The griffin raised his hands into fighting position. “Bring it. I’ll go all crouching tiger on you.”

  I dropped down and swept his feet out from under him. He hopped twice, but his annoying bird-like reflexes kept him from hitting the ground.

  We watched fighting trainings and sparred until about a half hour before Auto’s club opened. I took the first shower, and then headed to the house to use the phone while Demarco and Tweety cleaned up.

  Mike, as it turned out, did know of a non-human travel agent who could help us out. He worked out of a firm in Los Angeles and his name was Steffan Gabor.

  “Stephen?” I asked.

  Mike sighed, sounding exasperated with me. “No, Romi, Steffan.” He put extra emphasis on the ‘a’ sound.

  I giggled. “Steffaaan. Got it. Be real with me, Mike. I’m your only non-gay friend in the world, aren’t I?”

  “Friend?” He snorted. “Hardly.”

  Ouch. “It’s okay, Mikey. I know you adore me. I feel the same way, and to prove it, I’m going to give you a little dating advice.”

  He groaned. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

  Ignoring him, I plowed ahead, thinking back to the picture I’d seen on his desk. “The guy in the sweater vest is all wrong for you. Ditch him.”