I’d once heard that L.A. has a special quality of light like nowhere on earth, and that’s one of the reasons the movie studios located there. But there was also something sweet and delicious about the moon glow here, mixed with the streetlights and neon; it made my criminals look shinier, somehow.
Thor’s blonde hair gleamed like polished gold under his dark cap, and his skin was fairytale creamy, with faint pink on his cheeks, as though he’d spent his life herding reindeer in a tale of yore. Out in the glamorous night, he looked less sad, too. And Zeus seemed hotter and surlier, seemed to occupy more seething space, and when he glanced at me, it was as though his green eyes were backlit—that’s how much they shone. Odin had on those junky sunglasses and a white fishing hat; the disguise did not nix his hotness or the intense black-green hue of the bruise that popped against the dark skin of his cheekbone.
We stopped at a craft store, where I bought a needlepoint kit that had a pattern of a sheep standing in a patch of sunflowers. We continued on past a fancy spa. The sign outside advertised romantic couple’s massages.
“Wait.” Thor stopped in front of the blindingly white polished pillars that marked the entrance. “Let’s do a romantic couple’s massage,” he said. “We’re on a romantic date. Hell, the four of us are a couple just as much as anybody.”
“When they say couple, they mean two,” Odin said. “Like hell I’m getting a couple’s massage with Zeus while you get one with Ice.”
“I thought we were going to dinner,” I said. “At this rate we won’t get there until two in the morning.”
“That’s when Guvvey’s gets going,” Odin said.
“We’re a romantic unit,” Thor argued, seeming unwilling to leave the couples massage thing alone. “All of us, right?” He looked at Zeus. “We’re just as much of a couple as anyone.”
“Actually, we’re not,” Odin said.
“Says who?” Thor continued. “Fuck it. We’ve had our lives pulled out from under us. We’ve got ZOX on our ass. And now we can’t even go for a couple’s massage because we’re a foursome? Is there not one normal thing left we get to do?”
“Yeah,” Zeus growled, picking up the charge. “We should get to do this. The four of us are a fucking couple and that’s that. And I want rocks on my back like in the picture.” With that, Zeus headed in.
“You have got to be kidding,” I breathed.
Thor smiled slyly. Was this what he’d wanted? For Zeus to get riled up? For there to be trouble?
We followed Zeus across the mod art lobby which featured lush colors, waterfalls cascading down the walls, and alien-looking glass light fixtures. “We want a couple’s massage,” Zeus said, when we reached the counter.
The woman at the desk had black hair with pink accents, and her nametag said Carmella. She looked down at the schedule. “For two couples?”
“No, the four of us are a couple.”
She peered up. “Couple’s massages are for two.”
“But we want one for all of us together,” Zeus said.
Thor smiled excitedly. Yes, he’d wanted this, I realized. It seemed more and more clear that Thor wanted trouble. I wondered again if I should say something about the dangerous driving hijinks.
Zeus slapped a hundred dollar bill onto the counter. “Find a way to make it four. Because we, the four of us, are a romantic unit.”
Inwardly I cringed. Oh well, I’d never see her again, either.
“We can’t do four, because only two people fit on the large tables.”
“Push two tables together.”
“The practitioners wouldn’t be able to reach the center two as well.” Carmella shook her head. “They work from the side. I’m sorry.”
Odin tensed. If Odin was worried, that wasn’t good.
“It’s okay,” I said.
“No, it’s not okay,” Zeus said.
Odin pulled Zeus away from the counter. “You want them calling the five-oh?” he whispered angrily. “On our romantic date?” I stared at him in his purple glasses. Had he just called the cops the five-0?
“No, I want a massage on our romantic date,” Zeus said loudly.
“I’m sorry, that’s not how we’re set up.” Carmella went back to her computer.
I bit my lip. Would things get hot? Would guns come out? Zeus seemed so keen on the massage. Then Odin went back to the counter and slapped another hundred dollar bill on it, and then he leaned over and whispered something to her.
She stared at him, assessing him, it seemed. “One moment, please.” She turned and left.
“What did you say to her?” I asked.
“Trade secret,” Odin said.
“We don’t keep secrets from each other,” Zeus said.
Odin smiled. “There needs to be some mystery to keep a relationship alive, honey.”
Zeus grabbed Odin’s shirt front. “I’ll fucking get it out of you, my friend.”
“Not here, hopefully,” I said in a warning tone. “I’ve never been in a pretty place like this, and I don’t want us to wreck our romantic date.” Unlike Thor, I was not up for additional mayhem.
Zeus released Odin.
We ended up in a room with two large tables pushed together, and all of us lying side by side, touching, like kids at a sleepover during the scary story part, except we were a badass bank-robbing gang in a group sex relationship.
I lay between Zeus and Thor, and Odin was on the far side of Thor. Odin was in the doghouse, I guess, for not telling Zeus what he whispered. Still, he was getting a better massage because he was on the end. Four body workers rubbed our feet and backs while we drank champagne and talked about nothing. It was actually very romantic, and it was kind of like a date.
Later, the workers came and put smooth, warm rocks on our backs like Zeus demanded. The weight and the heat were sensual and relaxing.
Odin was the first to say it: “These rocks on my back make me want to fuck.”
“Me too,” Thor said.
“This a romantic date for Isis,” Zeus said. “We don’t fuck until we get back to the hotel. Or home, if it’s ready.”
Odin said, “I seem to recall her agreeing to our rules, and our rules are we fuck her when we want.”
“We said this was a romantic date,” Zeus said. “Don’t you think Isis deserves some romance?” He turned to me. “That’s what you want, right?”
I smiled. I sort of wanted to fuck, actually, but not here. “We’ve trashed on these people and this place enough,” I said. “I don’t think they want us fucking in here.”
The weight of his eyes on me felt more intense and more erotic than the weight of the stones. “But what do you want?” Odin asked.
“To have this nice date like we are.” The truth.
He groaned.
Just then, a man came back with a golden platter full of new rocks, replaced our old ones, and refilled our champagne glasses. Zeus was the first to get bored. He left, and Odin came and stretched out on my other side. Like old times, me and Thor and Odin.
“And then we can take you home after,” Thor said. “Just like a real date. We’ll be old fashioned.”
“I’ll be going for Medieval,” Odin said.
My insides warmed.
“There is a room in our hideout that has certain Medieval elements,” Thor said.
“Like what?” I imagined something dungeon-y.
I felt Odin’s hand slide under the sheet and onto my ass. “Some mystery is good to keep in a relationship. But there will be paddles. Very wicked ones. And maybe chains.”
The anticipation was killing me.
Later, we all took a steam bath together without having sex, which was hard with my guys all sweaty and naked. I wanted to have sex, but Zeus was fixated on this romantic date thing. Like he wanted to make it perfect for me.
On the way back to our black SUV, Zeus suddenly got it in his head to stop and buy four insanely expensive waters from a sidewalk vendor. We all followed him to the little booth
, where he took his time to choose one for each of us. My guys were quiet and deliberate. And usually they didn’t care about things like waters. Something was up.
Odin furrowed his brow after Zeus paid. “Where?” Odin asked.
“Three o-clock,” Zeus said. “Come on. Eyes forward.”
Something was definitely up. I followed my guys’ lead. After we got waters, we all stopped in front of a cell phone store to look in the window at the gadgets. Or more, I was looking in the window at the gadgets. I soon realized that my guys, ever the bandits, were looking at the reflection of the street behind us.
“We picked him up at the massage place,” Zeus added.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“A tail,” Thor said.
“Cops,” Odin said. “And there are two of them.”
“Let’s hope it’s just cops,” Thor said darkly.
CHAPTER THREE
We headed into a nightclub. Zeus pulled off his hat and sunglasses and handed the hostess a hundred, twinkling at her. “We’re looking for a friend,” he said, like it was secret between them.
She smiled and pocketed the hundred. “Go on, then.”
As we crossed the dark interior, Thor took off his hat and glasses. So did Odin. I followed suit. Apparently it was disguises off time. Deep in the dark club, Zeus handed a busboy a hundred. “We want to say hi to a friend.” Without waiting for an answer, he pushed through the kitchen door.
Thor grabbed my hand. “Just follow.”
There were protests in the kitchen until Zeus slapped a pile of hundreds on the stainless steel counter. The man was a regular Robin Hood tonight. “For your awesome work tonight, guys. Keep it up.” Then he turned and led us out the back. We burst out into the cool night air and walked fast down the alley and across another street and then slowed.
“Any excuse to give out our money,” Thor said.
“They were just plainclothes,” Odin said. “They weren’t going to do anything.”
Zeus said, “I didn’t like his shoes. They didn’t say cop to me.”
“He was a cop,” Odin said.
“What did you say at the massage place?” Zeus demanded.
“What does it matter?” Odin said. “You were about to go hot.”
“What if it’s ZOX?” I asked.
Zeus slung an arm around me. “If it’s ZOX then it’s ZOX. Is anybody following us now?”
“No,” I said.
“Are we safe right now? And together? And fucking awesome?”
“I guess,” I said.
“The answer is yes,” Zeus said. “Yes, we’re all of the above.”
Getting to Guvvey’s was no small task. We parked in a downtown parking garage in a cluster of business district high rises that looked totally dark for the night. We changed right there and took the elevator down to a basement level you needed a key for. Apparently Guvvey’s, being the illegal criminal nightclub it was, had to be weirdly shady about everything. We headed through a series of dark tunnels and finally to some other elevator banks. Out came the key. We went up to the 45th floor of a building.
We walked down to an unmarked door at the end of the hall. Zeus knocked. A woman with braids and tattoos opened it up and smiled. “Well, well, well, look who’s here.” She ushered us in to a dark foyer where we were forced to give up our phones and recording devices.
“Not our guns?” I asked.
She flicked her gaze to Zeus.
“She’s okay,” Zeus said. “First time.”
She gave me a dark look and let us in.
The dark, colorful place pulsed with low music.
“What?” I said.
Odin snorted. “Not our guns. You think people like us would dine at a place where we have to give up our guns?” Odin said like it was the most ridiculous thing ever.
“Yet we gave up our phones. But it’s okay to shoot up the place?”
“Oh no,” Zeus said. “They have a ‘you draw you die’ policy. Open season on anybody who draws.”
“The windows are Plexiglas,” Odin added. Like that would be my concern upon hearing about their you-draw-you-die-policy—that the windows might shatter from a free-for-all of gunplay.
Apparently the L.A. criminal element had just as much of a thing for interior design as the L.A. hotel element; the place was all posh and glam and arty in an ultra-mod way, with blue globe lights and red seating. People were gathered around low tables here and there and standing at the bar. And instead of wallpaper, the walls were plastered floor to ceiling with a photographic mural of lions and tigers killing antelopes and rabbits and other prey, images straight off the nature channel, except they were strangely colorized. In pastels, of all things.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Odin asked.
“This art,” I said. “That’s what’s funny.”
Zeus scowled. He didn’t think it was funny.
“Come on, it’s funny,” I said. “Baby boys like blue trains on their wallpaper, girls get Barbie princess stuff, and wow, the L.A. criminal element gets mammoth, surreal images of predators sinking their teeth into the necks of their helpless prey? That’s not funny?”
“I see it as more Darwinistic than funny,” Odin said.
“Darwinistic.” Thor spat out the word. It bothered him, I realized, this wallpaper. And this culture of survival of the fittest, of might making right. Thor was a doctor, after all. He would’ve taken that doctor’s oath to do no harm. Thor would be the one saving the antelope. And really, I would want to save the antelope, too.
“We’re a Darwinistic crowd, baby,” Zeus said, as a short, squat muscled man, also covered with tattoos, approached, us, laughing.
“No fucking way,” the man said, slapping hands with Zeus. “You boys better have taken the tunnels.”
Zeus grinned. “We took the tunnels, my friend.” The man tipped up his head by way of answer and led us across the place.
“What does he mean? Isn’t everyone supposed to take the tunnels?” I asked Odin.
“He’s razzing us because we have so much heat on us,” Odin answered.
As we moved across the room, I noticed how heads turned as we went. The people at the bar watched us. Groups at tables watched us. Even some of the people swaying in the corner to the strange techno music looked. And everyone was in suits and dresses. The place was a mix of America’s sexiest, heavily-armed men and women and lots of menacing and strangely photographic people, also heavily armed, with a little Fellini film thrown in.
I tried to act all cool, like I belonged, but I was an antelope—I couldn’t get that out my mind now. Sure, I was the antelope who liked to run up close to the lions and have some crazy fun, but like Thor, I was still in the antelope camp.
I realized that, even though they were lions, Zeus and Odin were kind of in the antelope camp, too. Or at least they had been when they were in their intelligence agency, fighting the good fight.
We were seated at a table for four, a semi-circle couch around a circular table that glowed faintly. Here everything was soft with light and color.
A squat woman in a tuxedo walked up with a bottle of scotch. “You fuckers. Still alive. Nice to see you.” Thor turned and struck up a conversation with her. I ignored them, still riveted by the troubling wallpaper. Zeus and Odin had once been lions protecting antelopes, but then the agency they had dedicated their lives to turned on them, betrayed them.
That’s why they were so into robbing banks. Their way of bringing it to the government agency that wanted them dead because of atrocities they’d witnessed.
They insisted nobody would believe their story. But really, there had to be a better way .
Thor interrupted my train of thought, introducing me to the woman and making me show her my tattoo.
I lifted my leg over the table to display it, and she gave me a strange look. Was it envy? Pity?
Drinks were served, more people came around, and I showed my tat
too some more. Thor ordered us the appetizer flight and the dinner flight.
You’ve got the menu memorized?” I asked.
“You just get whatever they’re serving. Like when you go to somebody’s house,” he explained.
“What if I don’t like it?” I asked.
Odin narrowed his eyes. “You have to eat it. Even if you don’t like it. Or else.”
Thor hit Odin on the arm. “Stop teasing her. You don’t have to eat it, Isis.”
A cheer went up from the dance floor where a tough-looking man in tux with a machine gun slung over his back danced…like a robot.
The whole thing was incongruous—the guy looked so strong and dangerous, even in the tux. The dyed blond ends of his hair shone like a bright, badass crown over his dark roots. Yet he was dancing so dorkily. “That’s something you don’t see every day,” I said.
“Matteo,” Zeus observed grimly. “There was exactly one other crew capable of taking down the Prime Royale bank, and that’s Matteo’s old crew, but the rest of them are locked up now. The Prime Royale is all ours.”
“Would you get off the Prime Royale?” Odin snapped, downing his scotch.
“I thought he joined the Giraffes after his crew went inside,” Thor said.
“They booted him,” Zeus said. “He’s back to having no gang.”
“Hold on, the Giraffes?” I said. “There’s a bank takeover robbery gang called the Giraffes?”
“They don’t do takeovers,” Zeus said. “They’re all about jewels.”
Odin sniffed. “Fucking-g Giraffes.”
“Seriously? The Giraffes?” I said. “Who would name their criminal gang after an animal whose only natural advantage is the ability to eat leaves off treetops and run really fast?” It seemed weird in light of the murals. And just…weird, period.
The waiter delivered our appetizers. Tapenade, bruchettas, fancy cheeses, crab puffs. A bread basket and mini bottle of olive oil with a spout, just like a normal Italian restaurant. Somehow, I’d expected less regular food.
“Do they threaten to munch potted palms if the people don’t give the jewels?”
The Wrong Turn Page 4
