Pursued by the Gods

by Rebekah Murdock

  We ordered drinks this time, and tipped the bartender well, hoping it might encourage her to be a bit more forthcoming. She gave us the same answer we’d heard from everyone else—yes, he sounded familiar, no, she couldn’t just give out customer information, no, he hadn’t given his name.

  “Besides,” this one had said exasperatedly, “this is Las Vegas. There’s dozens, if not hundreds, of attractive, dark-haired men who wear leather jackets.”

  “With extremely bright green eyes?” Isa had asked, pressing her.

  “Probably,” the bartender had said flatly, and turned away, leaving us with our drinks: a craft beer for Isa, and a glass of straight, spiced rum for me. Isa wrinkled his nose at my choice, but I enjoyed the bite of it. It reminded me of a fermented, spiced drink that Ravenna had made for me, not long after we had first been together, but stronger.

  Tonight, stronger was good.

  “This is the last place,” I said dispiritedly to Isa, taking a long sip of my drink. “If we strike out here, we’re back to square one.”

  “Maybe we should just back off,” Isa said again. “Let Ravenna handle it the way she wants to. Don’t you think this is going to get back to her, somehow? She’s going to feel that we don’t trust her.” He sighed. “I know I sound like a broken record, but I don’t feel right about this.”

  I laughed. “You, suggesting we leave something potentially dangerous in someone else’s hands? You’re getting soft.” I took another sip of my drink. “It’s not going to get back to her. If we don’t find him, no one will be the wiser, and if we do—well, then he’s going to be well warned away.”

  Isa shrugged. “I’m just saying, I’d rather be at home right now, getting a hot shower and crawling into bed. I smell like strippers, and I’ve been awake since far too early this morning.”

  I sighed. “We’ll stay a few more minutes, and then we’ll head out if nothing turns up. The bartender is probably right. Dark-haired, handsome men with green eyes in leather jackets are probably a dime a dozen here.” I grimaced. “If only you had gotten his name that first night, that could have saved us a hell of a lot of trouble.”

  “I should have just beaten him up,” Isa said grimly. “That would have saved us even more.”

  There was plenty of entertaining people-watching to be had at the bar, but nothing that would help us. We didn’t see any dark-haired men in leather, and as much as I wanted to find him, I wasn’t about to start pestering random strangers.

  We were preparing to finish our drinks and leave, when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned, my muscles tensing automatically as I did so. My eyes widened with surprise when I saw the beautiful singer who had been on stage when we walked in.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” she said sweetly, her voice lilting. It was an act, I could tell immediately, and I found it incredibly off-putting. “I heard you asking the bartender about someone. A green-eyed man, wears a leather jacket, very charming?” She smiled prettily.

  I felt Isa shift next to me, and I knew the woman was making him feel equally uncomfortable. “Yes?” I said lightly, raising an eyebrow. “You know someone like that?”

  “I might,” she said, her smile never faltering. “It’s a rough gig, lounge singing. Doesn’t pay as well as one might think it does.”

  Her red lipstick was smudged at one corner of her mouth. I resisted the urge to reach out and wipe it away. I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. Her eyes brightened, and I held it out of reach. “If you have something that’s helpful, I might feel inclined to tip you,” I said.

  “For your lovely singing, of course,” Isa added dryly.

  The woman eyed the twenty. “I met someone who fits that description. A couple of weeks ago. Tall, very charming, bright green eyes, handsome. Wore dark jeans and a leather jacket. I went back to his hotel with him.”

  “I’m sure you did,” I said dryly. Next to me, Isa cleared his throat. “Does that sound like the right man?” I asked him, glancing quickly sideways.

  “It sounds like what he was wearing that night,” Isa said casually. “But still, that description isn’t telling us anything we don’t already know.”

  “If you went back to his hotel, I’m assuming you know his name,” I said, the bill still between my fingers. “That would be very helpful.”

  “And worth more than twenty dollars, I think.” The woman’s eyes glinted.

  “Greed isn’t a virtue,” I cautioned her.

  “Neither is miserliness,” she shot back.

  Isa sighed next to me and produced another twenty, and a ten. “Would this be worth his name?”

  The woman eyed us both. “You know, my going rate might be a little high, but for both of you I might be willing to give you a discount. Especially if you tipped well.”

  Isa glanced at me. “Is she suggesting what I think she is?”

  “We’re well-satisfied at home,” I assured the woman. “The man’s name, if you please, or we’ll take our money elsewhere.”

  She narrowed her eyes at that, clearly insulted that we’d turned her offer down so flatly. “Toven,” she said sharply. “His name was Toven. I can’t think what you would want with him, he was a disappointing lay—if you’re into that—and didn’t seem good for much else besides drinking and talking.”

  At the mention of his name, my heart sank. I’d heard that name before.

  “He’s all the man I need,” I said dryly, nodding at Isa as I plucked the money from his fingers and handed the bills to her. She snatched them quickly, as if worried that I might change my mind. “Don’t you worry what we need from him. Thank you for your help, you’ve been most invaluable.”

  She sniffed, tucking the money into her cleavage in a way that I supposed was meant to be seductive, but had the opposite effect. From Isa’s expression, he seemed to feel much the same way.

  The moment she was gone, Isa turned to face me, his brow creased. “Who is he?” he asked rapidly, his voice low and filled with concern. “The minute she said his name, you turned as pale as I’ve ever seen you.”

  I tossed back the rest of my drink, the alcohol burning all the way down my throat, a welcome distraction. I licked my lips and looked Isa full in the face. “He’s a god,” I said, my voice tight. “And we’re fucked.”

  13

  Isa

  In all the long time that I’ve known Kavi, I’ve only ever seen him truly frightened a handful of times. The worst was when he came to me on the cold, dark night when he knew that he and Ravenna would have to flee—and he thought that he would be telling me goodbye.

  He and Ravenna had been together for three years at that point—keeping their affair a secret all that time. I, once Ravenna’s friend, had become Kavi’s too—his only friend, other than Ravenna. I had been in the cave where I often stayed, a mile or so from the tribe’s camp, curled on my woolen blanket by the fire. The moment I had heard his footsteps I had leapt up, knowing it was him. He always walked the same way, so lightly that only someone with very keen hearing—or a wolf—could hear him. I could remember the exchange as if it had happened the night before, so clear was it in my memory, even after all this time.

  ---

  “What are you doing here?” I pulled back into the shadows, suddenly ashamed. A half-eaten, raw rabbit carcass was in the corner, leftover from my recent hunt. I knew my face was gaunt, my fingernails broken, my feet dirty from my change two nights before. I had only just come back to myself, and I still had another day before I would dare to be near humans. I supposed Whcha’ri didn’t entirely count as a human—but nevertheless, I was inclined to be cautious. And somewhere deep down, I didn’t want him to see me like this. I wanted him to always see me as I was before the change—handsome, broad-shouldered, muscular, brave. Not the half-creature that I became, once a month, as I tried to find my way back to myself.

  “I’m sorry, Maiko,” he said, with the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. “I know this is not a t
ime that you wish to be disturbed. I would not have if it were not truly important.”

  I hesitated, moving slightly closer to the fire. The light flickered over Whcha’ri’s face, and I saw how drawn his expression was, how pale he looked. “You almost look like a white man,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Come, it can’t be that bad, can it? Have you and Taki fought? Surely she hasn’t left you?” I knew it couldn’t be that. If there were ever a couple who were bound for life, it was Taki and Whcha’ri. I was ashamed, sometimes, of the jealousy that it caused me. I had known Taki since she was a young girl, and watched her grow into a beautiful, brave, talented woman—a woman far too good for me. I had contented myself with her friendship, and was proud to have it, but that didn’t mean that at times I didn’t think of them together, and burn.

  Whcha’ri dropped to his knees by the fire, a sudden cry coming from his lips that was nearly a howl. It echoed in the cave, and I shrank back, eyeing him warily. The sound turned plaintive, a keening wail as he clenched his fists, and my blood ran cold. “Taki, she’s not...she can’t be…dead?”

  “No,” he said, turning to look at me with eyes that had gone dark and haunted. “And she never will be. Not now.”

  I swallowed hard, eyeing him. “You don’t mean…that can’t be, Cha’ri.” I slipped into my familiar nickname for him, trying to calm him. “How can that...?” I gritted my teeth. “What have you done?”

  “I am selfish,” he moaned, rocking back and forth. “I am no better than any man, no better than the beasts, who seek only their own happiness.”

  I reached out then, grabbing him by the shoulder and shaking him, hard. “What did you do?” I asked again, through gritted teeth. “Gods damn you, man! What did you do?”

  “She was sick,” he said, his voice low and choked. “I don’t think it was serious, truly, but it frightened me. Taki has never been really sick, not in the time I have known her. And the medicine she received was good…but mortals are frail, and their lives easily spent. She reassured me that she would be well soon, but I was frightened, so frightened.” He looked up at me with wide, dark eyes. “I cannot be without her, Maiko. You must understand that. I have never known love before. Now that I have it…I cannot know what it is to have it taken from me.”

  I grimaced. “Spoken like one very near to a god,” I said dryly. “Mortal men suffer that every day. Why not you?”

  I thought I had never seen anyone look so lost. “I am weak,” he whispered. “Weaker than any man. I could not lose her.”

  “I am growing tired of this,” I said softly, but I couldn’t help the growl that escaped as the words left. “What did you do, Cha’ri?”

  “I told her…” he hesitated. “I told her that there was a way that we could truly be together forever, to make it so that she would never age and die, as I will never age nor die. For as long as I exist, so will she, if she wishes it. Only her own hand, or that of another god, could end her life, if I did this.”

  I groaned. “And she wanted this?”

  Whcha’ri nodded, slowly. “She did. She was eager, brighter than I had seen her in days. Even when I told her…”

  “What?” I snapped, my patience gone. “What else is there, Whcha’ri?”

  “Our union is not against the laws of the gods and the spirits,” he said haltingly. “But to share immortality with one who is mortal, that is. It is a great sin among the gods, one of the three greatest violations.” He looked up at me again, and for a moment as the fire flickered over his face I thought I saw him as he perhaps truly was, a being made of water and air, masquerading in human form. “The punishment for it is death, Maiko. For both of us.”

  For one bright, burning second I thought that I would leap over the fire and try to kill him myself. If it had been before my change, I have no doubt that I would have, though it would have been a futile effort. “What will you do?” I asked tightly, and I knew from the way he shrank back that he could see the rage glimmering in my eyes.

  “We have to run,” he said simply. “Here, among her people, where the spirits are well-known and I have spent most of my existence, we are sure to be found out. We are in danger here—and a danger to the others around us, too. We will have to go into hiding.”

  “For how long?”

  He seemed to shrink at that. “Forever,” he said simply. “We will never be able to stop.”

  I was silent.

  “How long, Maiko?” he asked, his voice desperate. “How long before she regrets this choice that she made—and it was her choice, make no mistake. How long before she hates me for tearing her away from everything that she knows, to bind her even more strongly to me—and only to me?”

  I considered for a long moment. My anger fading, I felt suddenly only sorrow—for Whcha’ri, who loved Taki so blindly and desperately that he would risk death rather than ever be without her; for Taki, who loved him in kind, and would throw away all else to truly be with him for an eternity; and lastly, and most shamefully, myself, because I would now lose them both.

  Or would I? I looked up at him then. “She won’t,” I said slowly, realizing as I spoke that it was truer than even I had realized. “Taki is no rash woman, Cha’ri. She does not make her choices lightly. She did not do so when she chose you the first time, and she would not have done so now in choosing you a second time. And that is what she has done—chosen you, above all else.” I shrugged. “You have only to be worthy of it, Cha’ri. I hope you can be.”

  “I came to tell you goodbye,” he said quietly. “You have been a true friend to me, Maiko, the only one that I have ever known besides Taki.” His voice sounded choked. “I will miss you.”

  I hesitated only for a moment. “What if I came with you?”

  He started at that, looking at me with genuine surprise. “What do you mean?”

  I did come closer then, moving around the edge of the fire to crouch near him, my hands outstretched. “I have no one here, Cha’ri. No one in many years but Taki, and now you. The tribe fears and respects me with equal measure, but there is no one there who will have me at their fireside, no one who would be my wife or bear my children. I am cursed. To lie with me, they believe, is to invite that same curse on their children, and their children’s children.” I felt emotion well up in my throat, choking my own words as I spoke. “You will need someone to protect you, Cha’ri, you and Taki both.” I pressed one hand to my chest, my voice low and sure as I spoke. “I will protect you both, with my life if need be, for as long as I live, or you. I swear it.” I felt my heart pound in my chest as I spoke, and I realized how badly I wanted him to accept. I thought of my life here, in this cave, on the fringes of the tribe, and I felt a suddenly hollowness in my chest. I could not bear it, I thought, if he said no—if he abandoned me now.

  “A vow like that carries great weight,” Whcha’ri said softly. “I do not think you mean it lightly, Maiko, but think of it. To leave all that is familiar, to run forever, to die if we are caught? Are we worth so much to you?”

  “That much and more,” I said quietly, and I meant it. “I will follow you both wherever I must, Cha’ri. Only do not leave me here.” I reached out then, and grasped his hand. “Do not leave me.”

  ---

  Kavi’s face had the same haunted quality to it that I had seen on that night, a look of utter despair. “He’s a god,” he said, his voice low and tight. “And we’re fucked.”

  My blood ran cold. “He can’t be allowed to come near Ravenna again,” I said quietly. “If he finds out what we are…what we’ve done…”

  “What I’ve done,” Kavi said shortly. “The two of you will suffer for it, but the deed was mine.”

  “And we joined you willingly.” I rubbed a palm over my face. “What kind of god?”

  “Luck, and mischief. A god that can charm information from anyone, convince mortals to do his wishes. He is not evil, not as mortals think of evil, but he can be…chaotic, from what I have heard. He does not always toe the line of
morality, and he often bends the rules and laws of mortals.”

  I gritted my teeth. “So we have to keep our secrets more closely guarded than ever. If anything were to get out, he could easily find out.”

  “Or perhaps charm Ravenna into telling him, if they were to get close enough.”

  I frowned. “I don’t think Ravenna is so easily manipulated. Or so foolish as to trust someone she hardly knows with our lives.” I shook my head and took one last, long sip of my beer, savoring it. “For now, let’s go home. It’s late. There’s nothing else we can do tonight.”

  Kavi nodded, setting his own drink aside and leaving a few dollars on the bar as a tip. He said nothing more as we left, but I could see his face, shadowed in the darkness, and I could see the fear etched there.

  For the first time in a very long time, I too was truly afraid.

  14

  Ravenna

  All I can say about the days that followed is that I tried not to think about him. And for the most part, I succeeded. At work, I was too busy to spend much time wondering if he would come into the bar, and Isa seemed to work the Mine Shaft more and more in the following week. Deep down, I knew it had something to do with Toven and his interest in me, but I pushed that thought out of my mind, too. Ultimately, I told myself, we deserved a life with some peace. We had fought for it hard enough. And if Toven threatened that—then I needed to forget about him.

  But I didn’t throw away the card he’d given me. It stayed in my purse, tucked safely into a side pocket, crisp and white with his room number scrawled on the back in thick black script.

  Kavi was tense, but I tried to write it off as just the result of him adjusting to his new job, and his worries about the safety of the city. But I knew that wasn’t the case. No matter how many times we reassured him that we had freely chosen, he would always feel that in the end, it rested on his shoulders. He had felt that way since the beginning.