“You’re lucky I didn’t pound you flat,” I said, waving the shoe I still held in my hand.
“Well,” he said with a huff. “If I’m not wanted, I can simply scamper off.”
I thought again of the vanishing spider. I might never sleep again. What if Hermes decided to drop in on me while I slept…or hide under the blanket to tickle my toes. Or…
Apollo shot me a glance, apparently reading my stress level.
“You’re here for a reason,” Apollo said, neither chasing him off nor begging him to stay. “Out with it.”
Hermes looked put out. Not nearly as put out as I felt, but I did my best to hold it in. He was a trickster god. It was in his nature. He couldn’t help himself. And, well, he had helped us save the world a time or two, even against his self-interest. I just crossed my arms to keep from involuntary swattage.
“I’m bored,” he admitted, sounding like a five-year-old on a long car ride. “Titans rising, skeleton armies, plague demons, zombie hordes…there’s just no going back to the daily grind. It’s like…it’s like drinking Dom Perignon and then finding all you have left is water. It’s like Icarus soaring to the sun and then crashing to the ground. It’s like…”
“Okay, we get it,” Apollo said. “You could always pick up a phone.”
Hermes fixed him with a look. “Can I? Can I really? Think who you’re talking to.”
Apollo sighed heavily. I finally let my arms drop to my sides, anger ebbing. I let my boot drop as well and worked my foot back into it.
“Fine,” I said with bad grace. “Maybe you can help. Do you know how to find Ichnaea?”
“Yes and no.”
“Which is it?” I asked.
“I know her number, but she’s no longer tracking packages for me. Not even the really important ones.”
“What’s she doing?” Apollo asked.
“She’s moved on to bigger and better things. Right now she’s working for a group that helps track missing kids. Why do you need her?”
“Hermes,” Apollo said gravely. He paused a second, waiting for the tone of his voice and the look on his face to bring home to Hermes the seriousness of the situation. “Set is back.”
Hermes didn’t say anything for a full minute. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him speechless. I didn’t imagine it boded well.
“Not back, exactly,” I said, needing to cut the tension, “but possibly on his way.”
“I’m in,” Hermes said. “You tell me what you need me to do.”
Apollo and I exchanged a glance, and he shrugged.
“Right now, we need a tracker,” I answered. “Someone who can help us with this.”
I pushed Apollo’s pencil holder away and lifted the napkin carefully to show Hermes the coin inside.
He sucked a breath in through his teeth with a low whistle. “Where did you find it?”
“On the unconscious body of a man left behind by two brothers on a murder spree.”
“So this guy came into contact with it? Direct contact? And they left him alive?” Alarm sharpened his voice.
“Yeah, why?” I asked, his concern infectious.
“He might not be entirely safe.”
“In what way?” Apollo asked.
“Let’s just say that Freddy Krueger isn’t the only monster who can reach you in your dreams.”
Fear shot straight through me. Viktor had mentioned dreams. Horrible dreams, and a man with white skin and flaming red hair. I said as much.
“Then he’s been touched.”
“But what does that mean. Is he in danger?”
“He may be the danger.”
“What?” I asked, not at all excited over the concept of multiplying murderers.
“Have you ever heard the expression ‘touched in the head’?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not just a figure of speech.”
I groaned. “So how do we find out for sure?”
“Well, we can wait until he kills someone or we can take the coin to a specialist. Someone who’s good with spells might be able to figure it out.”
“Like who?” I asked.
“Before Hecate joined the dark side, I’d have recommended her, but since she’s not an option, I’d say Sigyn is the next best thing.”
“I thought her specialty was runes.”
“Many things in many cultures, remember?”
I wanted to hit my head against Apollo’s desk…repeatedly. Not so long ago, Sigyn had been part of a cabal bent on remaking the world. She seemed to have come to her senses, but what if it was all an act? What if she’d loved the trickster god for so many years, she’s adopted some of his antics? If that was the case, there was no way I could turn over to her a direct link to the god of chaos.
“Um, Apollo, can I speak with you privately for a minute?” I asked.
He looked dubiously at Hermes. “You could try,” he answered.
I looked at Hermes as well. He had on an innocent look and was pretending to study the ceiling.
“Oh, fine, whatever,” I said. “I’ll ask you right here. Do you think Sigyn is trustworthy?”
Hermes started to speak and I held up a hand. “Not you,” I said.
Apollo thought about it. I couldn’t hear the thoughts, but I could feel his mind whirring.
“As far as I know, she’s always been loyal. Even that thing in New York…she was doing the wrong thing, but for what she perceived to be the right reasons. Like fallowing a field or setting a controlled burn to save a forest.”
“Great. And if she perceives we could all use a little chaos in our lives?”
“Ffffttt,” Hermes said. Or something like that. It sounded a lot like air escaping a tire. “She won’t do it again. If you don’t believe me, you come along. Watch her the whole time. Hell, record the whole thing.” He paused for a split second. “Although, I’ve got to say, if you two are going to go at it in any appreciable way, I want to be the one holding the camera.”
I picked up Apollo’s pencil holder to lob at him and he held his hands up to protect himself.
“I give, I give!” he said, although we both knew it wouldn’t really do him any harm.
“Look, I have a couple of killers to track down. I need to know right away about this coin, before Neith comes after it or rats me out to the police…”
Hermes shot up and met Apollo’s gaze. “Is that true? She’s back?”
“That’s what I hear.”
“Well, holy hells, that woman knows how to hold a grudge. I’d better make myself scarce. More soon,” he said, and then vanished into thin air.
Neith must have him spooked. Usually he liked a little more pageantry.
I looked at Apollo. “Tell me I did the right thing.”
“You did the right thing.”
“You really believe that?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t sound so sure, but I chose to believe him.
Chapter Seven
I let myself into my car before calling Yiayia. It wasn’t that I couldn’t call her from Apollo’s office or even from the street, but there were bound to be awkward questions up to and including my sex life with a god, and I preferred to deal with them in private.
“Anipsi!” she answered on the first ring. The Rialto Bros. Circus was back in the States. I couldn’t remember just where they were at the moment, but at least we were close to the same time zone.
“Yiayia!” I answered, not having to work very hard to match her enthusiasm. Despite her special brand of crazy—or maybe because of it—she was one of my favorite people on earth. “How are you doing?”
“Wonderful! Lenny gave Fergus a job with the circus. He’s the new two-headed goat wrangler.”
I had to process that for a minute, since Fergus only had one head,
last I knew, but in my world the acquisition of another was not necessarily out of the question.
“Great,” I answered.
“The goat likes to head butt. Twice as much as the normal goat, if you get my shift.” It was drift, but I let it go. “They do a little thing where the goat chases him around the ring. The audience goes wild.”
“Can’t wait to see it.”
“The left head is very sweet. The right one bites.”
“Um, okay.”
“Fergus has a big old bite mark on his right buttock. It didn’t break the skin, but oh, the bruise…”
I did not want to think about how Yiayia knew what the bruise looked like. Fergus was her…boyfriend. Boyfriend! I knew it was silly of me to be so freaked out by the idea with Pappous two years dead, but somehow I’d anticipated her mourning him forever. Or that the prodigious beard that had earned her a place in the circus sideshow would make dating difficult. But she and Fergus had met at a beard competition and it had practically been love at first sight. For some reason, my over-curious brain kept trying to figure out how they kissed without the Velcro effect. It failed miserably. Probably just as well.
“But enough about me,” she said, saving me from my thoughts. “How are you and that great god of yours. Is he behaving himself? Do I have to come yet to kick his—”
“Yiayia! He’s fine. No kicking necessary. But—”
“Ah ha, I knew there would be a butt. I will come kick it.”
“Yiayia, the but has nothing to do with him.”
“There is another butt in your world? Tori, I’m shocked!”
She didn’t sound shocked. She sounded intrigued, but I let that go too.
“No! Listen, this isn’t about Apollo at all. Or romance. Definitely not romance. It’s about murder.”
There was a dead pause on the other end of the phone and then. “Oooh, tell me more.”
“Off the record.” It had to be said. When Yiayia wasn’t busy with her bearded-lady duties, she ran the Goddities website, which was basically a gossip blog on the Latter-Day Olympians. She was usually my one-stop shopping on current whereabouts, aliases and who might be consorting with who.
She answered with a heavy sigh. “Always ‘off the record’. I help you, but where is the tit for that?”
“Tit for tat, Yiayia. And anyway…” I sighed. “Just listen. As long as you leave the names out of it, maybe there is something you can use. I suppose the gods should be warned.”
“Well then, I’m your girl.”
At nearly seventy, she was a little more than a girl, but she was also eternally young. I loved her for it.
“There have been some murders here in L.A. that might be linked to Set. You know, the Egyptian god of chaos. As far as we know, he’s still all chained up and out of the picture—if you hear differently, please let me know right away—but before he was locked away, he left some talismans behind, and one found its way out here. I’m hoping you might know how to find Ichnaea. We could really use her help tracking the talisman back to the killers.”
Yiayia sucked in a breath. “Murders! Are they juicy? You will tell. Anyway, Ichnaea… I think she consults for the Center for Missing and Exploited Children or some kind of law enforcement. She was in the news just last year for the Annabel Jenkins case. You might have seen it. She goes by Naya Frain. Anyway, I’m not sure of current whereabouts, since her tracking takes her all over the country, but I can find out. Have you considered asking Hades?”
“For tracking?”
“For one of his hellhounds. He used them to track down the Titans who escaped during Rhea’s uprising. Surely they can help you.”
I let my head hit the back of my seat. It wouldn’t be fair to say that I hated hellhounds exactly, but we weren’t best buds. There had been times they’d been turned on me, and others when we’d fought side by side, but I was never comfortable with them. I’d also never considered them anything but extensions of Hades’s will.
“I’ll see,” I said with significantly less enthusiasm than when I’d begun the conversation.
“Meanwhile,” she said, “I will see if I can find Ichnaea and you will tell all.”
I rolled my eyes at Yiayia’s thirst for lurid details. Then again, given my chosen profession, I supposed I was hardly one to judge.
I left Neith out of it, but gave her everything else. I concluded with, “If you hear anything about Set…anything at all, please let me know. Not to sound cliché, but it’s a matter of life or death.”
“I will check in with his jailor. I don’t know her personally, but I hear that Sigyn spent some time with her. They had that in common, you know, both cooped up with their imprisoned husbands, although in Sigyn’s case it was voluntary. And in Tawaret’s case, at least she has help.”
“Help?”
“His other wives—Anat and Astarte.”
Great, an ever-expanding cast of characters.
“Yiayia, I’ve got to go. It’s been great talking with you. Talk again soon. And love to Fergus.”
That cost me to say, but I got it out. Probably only because I was completely preoccupied. I had to get back to Hermes. And Sigyn.
As soon as I hung up, I bellowed, “Hermes!” at the top of my lungs. The sound bounced around the car but had no other effect. Maybe three times was the charm. It always seemed to work in stories—Rumpelstiltskin, Beetlejuice…
I tried it twice more. Nothing.
Then I remembered I actually had his number on my phone. Sometimes the mystical messed with your mind.
Unlike Yiayia, he did not pick up on the first ring. Or even the fourth when it clicked over to voicemail.
“Hermes, this is Tori. Call me RIGHT NOW.” I made the caps perfectly clear. “We need to talk.”
There was a great pop of air, and suddenly he was right there in my passenger seat with a great Cheshire Cat grin on his face. His dark eyes lit from within by some kind of mischievous fire and his black hair rakishly disheveled.
“Uh oh,” he said. “‘We have to talk.’ You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you? Hold on, you can’t break up with me. We’ve never been together. But wait! That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve finally realized how desperately you love a bad boy and you’re throwing Apollo over to be with me. Oh, he won’t take it well. There may be fisticuffs. Do people say that anymore—fisticuffs? No matter, I will be fleet of foot and stout of heart. I will—”
“Hermes!” I cut in, trying desperately not to laugh. “Be serious. You’re with Sigyn. And that’s not why I called.”
He clutched a hand to his heart and one to his head. “You wound me. You wound me to my core.”
“I will wound you if you don’t cut out the dramatics.”
He dropped the hand held to his forehead so he could see me with both eyes. “See, that’s why we’d be perfect together. You call me on my bullshit.”
“Again, Sigyn. And if you hurt her again, you answer to me.” Wait, when had I joined the Sigyn fan club? I flip-flopped more than a politician.
“Oooh, will there be whips and chains?”
“Worse, Republicans. No, wait, Tea Partiers.”
He looked stricken. “The horror.”
“Exactly. Have you talked to Sigyn? I really do need to meet with her. It’s not just the coin now. Yiayia says she and Set’s wife are friends. Or maybe were friends, I’m not sure about the tense. You gods are impossible.”
“Oh, I promise you, we’re perfectly possible. More than possible. We’re highly probable, considering the fact that I’m right here. Unless you think you’re talking to yourself, which is also perfectly plausible.”
I gave him a look.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “So, Sigyn and Taweret. Lucky for you, I already have everything arranged. Drive.”
“Sigyn is here? In L.A.?” With Hermes, I as
sumed, but he usually made his home on the East Coast. I’d thought he was popping in from the other side of the country.
“Sure. There’s a big movie premiere tomorrow night, and as one of the backers, I’ve been invited to attend. Sigyn will be on my arm.”
“Wait, the Dark Reckoning premiere?” I asked.
“But of course!”
I didn’t know how to feel about that. It was the same red carpet event Apollo had inveigled me into. On the one hand, at least I’d see one friendly face in the throng. On the other hand, there was no telling what mischief Hermes might get up to.
“Great,” I said, trying to work up the enthusiasm. I was going to have to practice my game face in front of the mirror for hours. I’d take inspiration from the Penguins of Madagascar… Just smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave.
“So, where are you guiding me?” I asked.
“A special spa we know. Sigyn treats primping like it’s an Olympic event and she’s in training. Right about now, she’ll be getting paws and claws done. There might even be waxing and threading and…” He shuddered. “I don’t even like to think about that.”
I started the car and pulled out into traffic. “Sure, because the old days of sanding it all off with pumice were so much better.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it. Very exfoliating. Makes your skin feel like a baby’s bottom.”
“Just what I’ve always wanted.”
Chapter Eight
Something hit me when I walked into the Sulis Day Spa. It was a smell—strong, pungent and even…invigorating. I tried to place it, and the closest I could come was lemongrass and, maybe, ginger? Or cucumber? It seemed tart and awakening and soothing all at the same time. I distrusted it instantly.
It should be entirely up to me whether I felt happy or sad…or homicidal, for that matter. Still, I put on my best smile for the professionally perky girl behind the counter with the sleek blonde hair.
“I’m looking for Sigourney Skalda,” I told her, giving the name Hermes had provided.
“And?” she asked, her smile going hard.
“And what?”
“Exactly.”
Blood Hunt Page 8
