Brandywine Investigations

by Angel Martinez

  "She said she's the only one who can."

  "Okay, and I know Itz isn't big on lying, but have you tried?"

  Azeban glanced around the room. "No. I haven't. Do you think it could be that easy?"

  "You have been rattled," Loki drawled from the end of the hallway, where he leaned against the wall, rubbing his head. "If a possible lie wasn't the first thing to occur to you."

  Charon leaned over the back of the sofa. "Do you feel up to trying? We can take my young lord Zagreus with us, and I can have us back in a moment if anything goes wrong."

  Azeban stood, nodding absently. "Do you think I could borrow a shirt?"

  Not for the first time, lately, Azeban felt like an idiot. He been so focused on cutting off the ways into death and getting back to Kau that he hadn't even tried to see if he could remove the webbing again.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  He hadn't been thinking at all since Kau's kidnapping. Anxiety had eaten his brain. That stopped now. Though wearing an old sweater of Charon's made thinking harder. He'd had to roll up the sleeves, the bottom hem hung low enough for it to be a dress, and it smelled like Charon. Yeah. Way to focus. Stop it.

  Charon had zapped them back to the cave entrance to the Underworld where Cerberus had nearly eaten Azeban a few days before. It seemed an eternity ago.

  "Okay. So can you see it? Either of you?" Azeban looked from Charon to Zack.

  Charon shrugged. "I don't see anything. But I know something's there, and I certainly felt it when I tried to push my way through."

  "There's something." Zack cocked his head to one side. "A humming that shouldn't be there. But I don't see anything."

  "I don't really see it–see it, now it's in place. But I kinda see it. The golden mesh. I don't know if it's just 'cause I know it's there." Azeban pushed his sleeves up his forearms. Charon's sleeves. Nice, soft black sleeves. Stop it. "And I know where I hooked it on. So let's see what happens."

  He approached the mouth of the entrance cautiously, unsure if the mesh would do something horrible if he tried to remove it. With his face turned away, he hooked his claws under the top anchor point on the left side. Sharp cold knifed through him, enough to warn but not dissuade or disable. He pulled hard enough that his elbow joints creaked, his claws leaving score marks on the rock.

  Charon wrapped his arms around Azeban's waist and pulled with him, hard enough that Azeban's feet left the ground. "Anything?" Charon gasped out.

  "No. Ow, ow. Stop. Put me down. Ow." Azeban regained his feet and carefully disengaged his claws. "I can't. Damn it, I'm sorry. She was telling the truth. I can't take it down again."

  "It—"

  "Don't say it's all right." Azeban plopped onto a flat rock, his throat aching from being so close to tears for so long. "Zack's dad is fading, and everything's wrong, and it's going to get wronger, and it's not all right!"

  Charon's sigh was gusty and exasperated. This is where he tells me to get my troublesome ass out of his sight. He's got to be so done with me. "Wronger is definitely not a word. Come on."

  Azeban dared to glance sideways. Charon held a hand out, waggling his fingers.

  "Come up. We have to get back and tell them. No feeling sorry for yourself yet."

  All right. Saving the kicking to the curb for later. Azeban grasped the offered hand, both ashamed to cling to it and needing it to face the next minute and the next. Part of him had known it wouldn't be so simple, but damn it, he'd wanted to fix this. He was no hero, no world-saver. No. He just wanted to make things right for Char. Even if he never wanted anything to do with Azeban again, he still wanted that.

  Charon 'ported them back to the condo, where he kept hold of Azeban's hand as he told the gathered deities about the failure.

  "I suggest we all do what we can. Go to your own death portals and pathways. Try things. Experiment. Think as hard and fast as your various gray matters, or whatever color gods' brains are, will go. Call me if you have any questions for Az." Charon glanced from one deity to another. "Call me if you find anything useful."

  One by one, the gods vanished. Loki in a puff of flame, not as showy as usual, since he felt poorly. Set simply vanished. Hermes made a doorway and took Dio with him. Coyote faded out to leave his grin behind for a few seconds. Anansi left by the balcony in palm-sized spider form. Laverna followed after, climbing down the outside of the building. Zack simply left by the front door with Michael, Artemis, and Ing.

  Ti had gone back to the bedroom and had taken Cerberus with him, much to Azeban's relief. Cups and plates lay scattered around the living room—trickster gods weren't great about picking up after themselves—and Azeban made himself useful by gathering up discarded dishes, careful not to disturb the quiet.

  "Coffee?" Charon asked from the kitchen area where he was loading the dishwasher.

  Startled, Azeban nearly dropped his stack of plates. "Um. Sure?"

  Charon straightened after starting the coffee, claws drumming on the counter. "Pits and flames."

  "Sorry?"

  "I should have had Lord Hermes look at the spell on your knives while he was here. He might have been able to remove it." Charon drummed some more before he turned around. "But… I think I can do one better."

  Charon blinked out and popped his head back around the corner to the hallway a moment later with the bag that held Azeban's knives. "Do you mind if I put these somewhere safe?"

  "No, that's f—"

  Charon had popped out again before Azeban could finish. He stood there in a kitchen where he didn't belong, clutching a dish towel and feeling so terribly lost. Bursting into tears sounded like a perfect idea. Instead, he found the cabinet with mugs and got out two likely ones. He figured the one with the chibi grim reaper was probably Charon's.

  He was just about to pour a cup when Charon popped back in, right at his elbow. "Shit! Don't do that!" Azeban clutched the counter, waiting for his heart to crawl back down from his sinuses.

  The grin flashed across Charon's face so fast Azeban wondered if he'd imagined it. No question that the ferryman looked smug though.

  "I've left your knives in the care of the library assistants." Charon even managed pouring coffee smugly. "Now even if she manages to neutralize Laverna's spell and decides to listen in, she'll hear edifying discussions of bamboo shoots and book shelving in red panda-ese. Possibly intermittent bits of songs from my young lord Dionysus, if she's lucky."

  A sharp bark of laughter escaped Azeban before he could stop it. "You didn't. But you did. Ha. Perfect." The laugh caught on the edge of a sob. "Char…"

  Charon leaned against the counter, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling. "I was born from Chaos. But I'm a very organized Chaos demon."

  "Um. Okay?" Azeban chewed on a claw, afraid of where the conversation was going. Charon had been furious, but so frighteningly contained, and somehow still kind after that initial anger. Confusing and painful, all of it, from someone he'd thought he was connecting with.

  "My brain hasn't felt properly organized since you arrived, and all the…" Charon waved a hand as if swatting away flies. "Jumbledy-pumbledy thoughts are making me quite… somethinged. And now I sound like Ti."

  Azeban hunched in on himself, staring into his coffee mug. "I'm sorry."

  Charon turned and slid a claw under Azeban's chin to lift his face. "I won't say none of this is your fault. That would be polite and unhelpful fiction. It is your fault."

  "I hope you're not trying to make me feel better."

  "Let me finish." Charon slid his hand behind Azeban's neck and gave him a little shake. "I would've helped you, you know. Before it all went bad. We could've found a way to prevent it. Yes, you were coerced, and I can't blame you for trying to save Kau. But you could've told me before."

  Azeban stared up into those limitless black eyes, his soft words bitter and unhappy. "Sure. And you would've believed me. I'd just stolen your watch."

  "I think, my dear raccoon, that you stole my watch in the first place so you wo
uld have an excuse to come find me. You wanted help. You nearly asked for it."

  "Yeah. I guess." Tears threatened behind Azeban's eyes again. Stupid, stupid eyes. Crying all the time now. "There were a couple minutes there. But I thought—" He stopped for a heavy sniff. "Thought I had it under control then. I was so, so wrong."

  "I was very angry." Charon's voice barely broke a whisper as he wiped Azeban's tears away with his thumbs. "Like a knife in the heart to realize that you had hurt my dear lord. But I'm sorry I called you a trash panda."

  "I didn't want to. So fucking did not want. I had to trap people who'd never even said a mean word to me. Even friends like Mateguas. And Lord Hades was so nice to me. And I couldn't say anything…" Azeban couldn't hold the floodgates any longer. He burst into tears.

  With a soft sigh, Charon pulled him close, long arms wrapping him tight. "Done is done. I'd just wondered if you were trying to tell me something or just wanted my attention with the little thefts. When Lady Hestia comes back in a few hours, we'll talk all of this over with her. She might have thoughts. For now, I think we both need some rest before our brains ooze out our ears. The dogs would eat them, and then what would we do?"

  "I dunno. A lot of people have said I'm brainless already."

  Charon's chuckle warmed some of the deathly chill in Azeban's bones, which seemed all sorts of backwards. He combed his claws through Azeban's hair. "You're impetuous, stubborn, and too bloody independent for your own good. But not brainless."

  Azeban nuzzled against Charon's shirtfront, trying his best to get closer. "Char? Could I… I mean, would you mind if I rested with you?"

  The claws stilled, and Azeban held his breath, wondering if he'd just taken that step too far. But Charon's arms tightened around him. "Of course. It's a big bed." Charon kissed the top of his head, then leaned his cheek there. "I suppose we need to have the talk. Az, I'm not a sexual person. I haven't had long-term lovers—presuming anyone would've been interested over the centuries in a monstrous skeleton—because I'm not interested."

  "Oh, holy—" Azeban pushed back far enough to see Charon's face. "I've been so fucking clueless. No puns intended there. Damn it Char, I should've figured out you're ace."

  "No idea why you felt an obligation to read my mind." Charon shrugged. "Yes. I'm asexual. No matter what the rumors of me being his lordship's lover."

  "Okay. Um. I guess you know I think you're wonderful. And sexy."

  One corner of Charon's mouth twitched—a smile hammering to get out. "I'd gathered something of the sort."

  "So do you hate sex? Is it icky?"

  Charon snickered. "Icky? What are you, three?" His expression softened as he went back to combing his claws through Azeban's hair, one thing Azeban already knew seemed to please him. "No, it's not icky. Not something I seek out or have an active appetite for, but not icky."

  "Is it, um, a negotiable thing?" Azeban hated the way his voice was cracking, but his brain wouldn't let go until it was spelled out.

  "Only if you bring bribes." Charon kissed the top of his head. "Joking, since apparently people can't tell sometimes. Yes, it's negotiable. Sometimes it's no, of course, but sometimes not. And there's certainly joy in pleasing someone else too. Would that irritate you if it was no? Would you still want to pursue this between us if it was often no?"

  "Well, yeah." Azeban twisted his hands in the front of Charon's shirt. "You make it sound like there's something wrong with that."

  "Not… wrong, and forgive me if I offend, but you have something of a reputation as a horndog."

  The word was out of character enough that a cracked snicker escaped before Azeban caught it. "I've never been a one-person or one-deity or one-demigod raccoon." Before now. A thought that didn't freak Azeban out like he thought it should. "No secrets there. And sure, I like sex. A lot. Sex is great. But it's not everything."

  "Hmm. Good to know."

  Azeban nuzzled closer, shivering. Adrenaline crash, emotional overload, too many days of stress, several from each column, probably.

  "Shh. Bed." Charon stroke his back, then turned Azeban to get him moving out of the kitchen.

  Azeban kept hold of Charon's hand as they wandered back to his bedroom sanctum, and Azeban's face got a workout as he forced it to remain bland and free of shock. Kau hopped beside him with a puzzled head tilt. Azeban shook his head, and Kau flew back to the living room with throaty crow chuckles.

  For an avatar of death, not the bedroom Azeban had expected. The California king bed was a given. Charon needed something long enough for all seven feet of him. The rest? The medieval unicorn tapestry bedspread, the collection of plushies on the bureau, the burgundy-and-gold curtains, the overloaded bookshelves that took up every free inch of wall space…

  "You were anticipating all black, weren't you?" Charon said as he closed the door. "Just because I'm a proto-goth demigod, people think everything I own should be black."

  Azeban cleared his throat. "It's not like it's a crazy thing to assume. And, um, the little Pusheens are really not what I expected."

  "They're cute." Charon shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it in the closet. He stared pointedly at Azeban as he went on. "Sometimes I like cute things."

  Azeban pulled off the oversized, borrowed sweater, leaving him naked from the waist up. "I'll keep that in mind."

  Charon favored him with a little smile and kept undressing, placing each item in closet or hamper with efficient care before he moved to the next. He stopped when he got down to T-shirt and briefs—white and black respectively—then he pulled a pair of flannel pajamas, bright blue, from his bureau. Once he'd pulled those on, he climbed into bed, propped a few pillows against the headboard, took a book off his nightstand, and began to read.

  Azeban jerked his gaze away when he realized he was staring in disbelief—those pj's were really bright—and went back to his own undressing. Since he didn't have any underwear on, he stripped off as fast as he could and nearly dove under the covers, since now his shivering had reached teeth-clacking levels.

  The bed was heaven: soft, clean sheets, warm blankets, and a mattress that was probably made of clouds. Not that Azeban cared about thread counts and pillow tops and shit, but right now? His bruised and abused body was enjoying the luxury, thanks much.

  "Are you warm enough now? More blankets?" Charon murmured without taking his eyes off the page.

  "Mmmm. M'fine." Azeban rooted a little closer, only the top half of his face protruding from the covers. A little closer… a little closer… He managed to snuggle up against Charon's side without his bedmate raising any objections and put his head on Charon's thigh. "What're you reading?"

  "It's a mystery. Have you heard of those?" Charon repositioned his arm so Azeban could wriggle up underneath it.

  "I've watched some on TV, sure."

  "This one is The Woman in Cabin 10. Too early to say whether I like it or not. Promising though." Charon gave him a sideways glance. "I suppose you want to be read to?"

  "Yeah." I want the vibrations of your voice rumbling through my ear into my bones. Yes. Duh. "Please."

  Charon explained the plot up to the point where he'd stopped, then began to read. After a few deep breaths, Azeban forced himself to relax and pretend nothing existed outside Charon's bedroom. In here, under the covers, snuggled up to Charon's heat—this was safe and wonderfully comfortable. Nothing could harm him. Nothing hanging over his head. One by one, his muscles began to unknot, and the tightness in his throat eased.

  For a few minutes, he was content to listen, Charon's voice seeping in to take away the frigid hollows inside him. But nesting was in his nature, and he couldn't help himself. He snuggled closer and closer still until his naked body pressed tight against Charon's side and leg, which caused some necessary squirming. A few paragraphs later, he slid an arm over Charon's flat stomach to nestle even closer.

  So far, Charon hadn't even flubbed a word. Has to be fine, right? Though by now, Azeban had lost track of the story, di
stracted by Charon's clean mineral scent. He nuzzled at Charon's pajama buttons, slid his thumb under flannel and T-shirt to touch skin, and froze when Charon stopped reading mid-word.

  "Az. What are you doing?"

  "Um." Unsure if there was a right answer here, Azeban decided on honesty. "Foreplay?"

  Charon closed the book and set it on the nightstand. "I see. So you're not as exhausted and in need of comforting as I supposed?"

  "Well, yeah. I am. But that doesn't kill it for me automatically." Azeban shifted around so he was facing Charon, careful to keep his insistent erection under the blankets. "So is this a hard no? Cause if it is, I'll stop. The snuggling is great. I'll take snuggling with you any day. But if it's not a hard, simple no…"

  Charon's expression had completely shut down. He was either offended, unhappy, or thinking, and Azeban wished to various hells and back that he knew which.

  "Lemme start over." Azeban wriggled around a little farther to sit cross-legged, blankets still puddled over his lap. "You've liked the kisses, right?"

  One snow-white eyebrow shot up. "Yes, very much. Though the last one was a bit fraught, I have to admit."

  "Want to start with another? Without the whole going into a skirmish/might not come back alive vibe making it all weird?"

  Charon put a hand to the side of Azeban's face. "I wish things had happened differently."

  With a soft sigh, Charon leaned forward and pressed his lips to Azeban's without giving him a chance to ask what he meant. The contact sent a white-hot spike through Azeban's core, and if it had been anyone else in the bed with him, Azeban would've jumped their bones hard. But this was Charon, and the kiss was so thorough and tender that Azeban could've made a whole afternoon of just those. Shivering with the need to get closer, Azeban concentrated on the soft lips exploring his.

  "How was that?" Azeban asked when Charon sat back. He wanted more, but it would be wrong to expect more here. He could be a manipulative little bastard when he needed to be, but not about this, about sex. Willing and uncoerced participation or not at all.

  Charon cocked his head to the side, his gaze roaming over Azeban's naked chest and arms. "Quite nice. I do like the unhurried, no-imminent-death part." He hesitated before reaching out to run a claw along the top curve of Azeban's ear. "Would it horrify you if I undressed?"