Bonar, fearing for his life, took another stab at the vows. Pirate Doug seemed thrilled at having had his ass handed to him by my sister. They were a perfectly violent yet loving match. Take two of the wedding began.
I eyed Poseidon who was eyeing me as well. He was my dysfunctional father figure. When the choices for a dad were slim you went with what was available.
“So when do we dive to the bottom of the sea to repair the tear in the abyss so no more demons slip through?” I quietly asked Poseidon as Bonar tried again.
“We’re not,” Poseidon whispered in reply as he popped open another bottle of rum while watching Bonar do his best not to refer to Tallulah as a hooker. The God of the Sea was getting progressively drunker. Whatever. He was usually soused. Maybe he was too tipsy to remember we were supposed to dive down and fix the tear… or maybe not.
“Wait. What?” I asked, feeling deflated. Not that I was jonesing to spend time with my de facto father—he was every kind of insane—but I needed an adventure. Being around all the happiness of my sisters was depressing. A little something potentially deadly was necessary.
“It’s already done,” he informed me, offering me the rum. “Hades owed me for losing the karaoke contest on Mount Olympus last month so I made the evil bastard fix the problem.”
“That’s not fair,” I complained, taking the bottle and downing the rest of the contents. At least it wasn’t frozen. No brain freeze this time, just a slight gag. Straight rum wasn’t my thing, but this day was not turning out as planned… for anyone.
“Not to worry, my little pink haired Mermaid,” Poseidon said, pulling another bottle of rum from his diaper.
I immediately dropped the bottle I was clutching and gagged again. Note to self—wash my hands as soon as possible. How was I to know the God of the Sea carried his alcohol next to his junk? Gross.
“Can you cook?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied, wondering how soused he was.
“What do you think of Gnomes?” he went on.
“They suck.”
“Excellent. You’re hired,” Poseidon told me.
“For what?”
“A shit show of epic proportions.”
I stared at the dummy and tried to figure out what plan he had up his sleeve, or in his diaper, since that was all he was wearing. Honestly, I didn’t care. If it was dangerous and I could throw daggers at something, I was in.
“I’ll take the job.”
“Of course you will,” the God of the Sea replied with a grin. “What I command is law.”
With the smallest eye roll possible, I nodded my head in respect to him. “So what’s the mission?”
“The Gnomes are kidnapping lesser gods and torturing them. I need that shit to stop. It’s cutting into my golf time,” Poseidon explained.
“Mmmkay,” I said, glancing over askance at the large freak.
Did he play golf in a diaper? Wait. That wasn’t relevant at the moment. It was appalling, but not important. Lesser gods were being tortured by Gnomes. And what the hell did my cooking skills have to do with any of this?
“Not following,” I said, still picturing the God of the Sea wearing Pampers at the Mount Olympus Country Club.
Poseidon sighed and let his head fall back on his massive shoulders. “Do I have to explain everything?” he grumbled.
“Umm… yes,” I snapped.
“Fine,” Poseidon said with a belch and then took another swig off his bottle. “You will pose as a cooking show star. I’ve already set that up for you. You’re expected on the set of the show shortly. The fucking Gnomes are addicted to cooking shows. You will draw Stew, the Gnome King out of hiding with your beauty and kitchen skills. Once you have him, I’m cool if you’d like to castrate him and skin him alive.”
“Ooookay,” I said, holding back my bile and wondering if Poseidon had lost his debatably sane mind.
Poseidon went on, oblivious to the fact that I’d paled considerably at the horrifying proposal. “Of course, the de-balling and epidermis peeling is simply an added bonus. What I really want is to get my gods back and to send the Gnomes a very clear message that it’s not nice to fool with Poseidon.”
“Or Mother Nature,” I added.
“What the hell does she have to do with this?” he demanded with a shudder. “She’s insane.”
I really wanted to call pot, kettle, black, but decided it wasn’t in my best interest. He was correct. Mother Nature made Poseidon look normal.
“It was a joke,” I told him as he sagged in relief. “So I’m doing this cooking show alone?”
“Nope,” he said as his smile grew wider.
I didn’t like that one little bit. Poseidon was always up to no good. “One of my sisters is going with me?” I pressed.
“Nope.”
“Care to be less cryptic?” I snapped.
“Do you have a man friend at the moment?” he inquired, not making eye contact.
“What in the Seven Seas does that have to do with anything?” I demanded as my fingers began to spark with the need to zap the god sky high. It was bad enough that my sisters gave me crap. I didn’t need the perennially soused God of the Sea all up in my non-existent love life.
“Nothing,” Poseidon replied with a grin. “I’m nosy.”
With an eye roll that deserved an Academy Award, I lifted my middle finger to the dolt. His roar of laughter made a few guests glance back at us. Quickly retracting my finger, I narrowed my eyes at Poseidon and waited.
“The mission?” I hissed quietly, getting him back to the matter at hand. I didn’t need my sister getting pissed at Poseidon for making me angry. She had her hands full with Pirate Doug and Bonar. Thankfully Bonar had not uttered the word hooker once this time around.
“Fine,” Poseidon said, pouting a little. “There’s a Werewolf who owes me. At least I think he does.” My stomach began to churn. I had a teeny tiny bit of a weakness for hairy howling dudes and Poseidon knew it. “But most importantly, he has a death wish like you do.”
My eyes narrowed further and I truly considered zapping Poseidon, but I was smarter than that. “I don’t have a death wish.”
The huge god tilted his head to the side and stared at me with a raised bushy green brow.
“Fine,” I conceded with a drawn out sigh. “I kind of do, but it’s the type of death wish where I don’t really want to die. You feel me?”
“I do indeed,” he replied with a laugh. “This is why I have chosen you. What do you think of Tennessee?”
“Never thought about it,” I told him. “Is that where I’m going?”
“Aye. It is.”
“It’s landlocked,” I pointed out. As a Mermaid, I needed water to survive.
“They have tubs,” Poseidon countered. “Plus it’s where the Gnomes have their main palace.”
“They chose Tennessee?” I asked, confused. Of all the places in the world to live, why would Gnomes choose Tennessee? Of course, I was one to talk. My sisters and I had chosen the Mystical Isle—right smack dab in the heart of the Bermuda Triangle.
“Yessssss,” Poseidon replied, shaking his head. “Gnomes have no taste. Just get my gods back. You might not know this, but I’m in charge of DIC now. I was voted in—kind of—sort of,” he explained with a grimace, downing more of his rum.
I was aghast. It was one thing to carry your booze by your balls. It was entirely another to rule over all the dicks in the Universe. No wonder Poseidon drank so much.
“You’re in charge of all the dicks?” I choked out. I mean, the visual alone was enough to make me want to grab the bottle of rum and down the entire contents even though it had come out of his diaper. And why did I need to know he was in charge of all the dicks? That was TMI—father figure or not.
“Gods, no,” Poseidon said with a bellow of laughter. “DIC—Divine Immortal Circuit. All the gods have to take a turn at governing the other idiot gods, demigods and lesser gods. I lost at strip poker a few months back and hav
e to run the damned thing for the next hundred years. It doesn’t bode well to have the fucking Gnomes absconding with my gods.”
“So that’s it?” I asked, aware that it probably was. Poseidon was good at assigning tasks, but not so hot on the details.
“Yep. You leave tomorrow,” Poseidon said. “Go hug your sister. I’m going to congratulate my son for making it through his nuptials alive. Oh, and there is no need to let any of the humans you come into contact with know of your species. The Gnomes are fucking idiots. Let them think you’re human as well. Do me proud, little Mermaid.”
Bowing my head to the God of the Sea, I grinned. We lived openly in the human world—Mermaids, Werewolves, gods, Gnomes and even Vampires. The human realm was very aware that the Otherworld existed, but not all were happy about it. “I will. I promise. I’ll bring home your gods.”
And I would. I never broke my promises. Working with a Werewolf would be a piece of cake as long as he wasn’t seriously hot. However, it wouldn’t matter how hot he was. I never missed business and pleasure.
Never.
2
Rick
“Rick, my man,” Poseidon bellowed as he appeared in a blast of salty smelling green smoke.
The son of a bitch startled the hell out of me. This of course, caused my fangs to drop and my claws to burst through my fingertips. I’d almost made the deadly mistake of attacking my uninvited visitor. Instincts were difficult to tame. It would have been one hell of a mistake to assault a god no matter what the circumstances.
Falling off the twenty-foot pyramid of kitchen chairs I was balanced on while trying to shave with a machete, I landed with a thud at Poseidon’s feet. Chairs went flying and Poseidon expertly ducked one that came close to knocking his head right off his shoulders. He was lucky he hadn’t arrived an hour ago when I was throwing axes blindfolded.
“Holy shit,” I shouted as my fangs and claws retracted. Pretty sure I’d wrenched my shoulder out of the socket, I played it off and glared at my surprise intruder. Unfortunately, the machete was now embedded in my thigh. Yanking it out, I tossed it across the room. My leg would heal in a matter of minutes. I was not a pussy.
“Long time no see,” Poseidon went on as if he hadn’t just barely missed being decapitated.
“Can’t say that’s a bad thing,” I muttered, glancing around to make sure the certifiable God of the Sea was working solo. The last time he’d paid a visit, he’d brought his Clam Band—very disturbing. They were basically human-sized clams with arms and legs—no discernable faces and they played shitty elevator music.
“Don’t be rude, boy,” Poseidon chided, making himself comfortable on the couch in my rustic log cabin loft. “What exactly are you doing here?”
“Nothing,” I replied vaguely. Poseidon didn’t make social calls. My stomach tensed and I crossed my arms over my chest. It was my intimidating pose.
He wasn’t impressed.
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” the green-haired god pointed out, nodding at the far wall with ten axes sticking out of it. “Nice work. All bullseyes.”
“Thank you. Did it blindfolded.”
“Of course you did,” he shot back with a chuckle. “And why are you living in the middle of nowhere? Shouldn’t you be living at the compound with your pack?”
“I like my solitude,” I lied through my teeth.
Basically, I’d been banished. No one thought explosives in the toilet at the fight-training center was funny. I hadn’t even detonated them. I was hiding them for later to blow up the three-story dirt hill I’d built. Lupines had no fucking sense of humor. Although, the Alpha’s mate flirting with me hadn’t exactly helped my case either. And then there was the small issue that I’d wrecked all of the communal vehicles while driving off-road and attempting to jump the canyon in them. However, the topper was when I tried to convince the pack to go Vegan with me. Suffice it to say I was unpopular at the moment.
And I was lonely.
Even though I’d amassed quite the petting zoo of deer, rabbits and raccoons to keep them safe from my hungry pack, my pets didn’t talk. Chatting with myself was getting old and seriously dangerous. Two days ago, out of stupefying boredom, I’d made a wager with myself that I could fly. That ended badly.
The deer had seemed amused after I’d taken a running leap off the roof of my home and broke most of the bones in my body on the landing. It made me glad I’d saved them. We didn’t live in the dark ages anymore. Immortals could shop the organic produce section at the grocery stores just like the humans. We didn’t need to ingest Bambi and Thumper.
“I call bullshite on the solitude thing,” Poseidon said calmly as he watched my every move.
“You can call whatever kind of shite you want, old man,” I told him with a shrug of indifference. “I’m quite content being alone.”
“Hmm,” he replied, glancing around at the disaster that I called home.
It was a fucking mess, but that wasn’t unusual for me. I was an unmated, Vegan, Werewolf adrenaline junky. Plus, I’d given the raccoons free rein. What did he expect?
“Your pack doesn’t know how to use your talent,” Poseidon said, snapping his fingers and producing a bottle of rum.
That’s when I noticed he was only wearing a diaper. Immortals associated with the sea were insanity personified. Well, most of them were. Mermaids were hot. “And you know how to use my skills?” I snapped.
“I believe I do. It’s time to pay your debt.”
“I already did,” I told him with an eye roll.
“Shite,” he muttered and slapped himself in the head. “You did?”
“Yep. I took Apollo sky diving and rigged his chute not to open—just like you insisted. It was seriously unreal how fast that bastard’s limbs regenerated,” I remembered aloud and truly still impressed.
Apollo had been furious but quickly realized Poseidon had been behind it. Suffice it to say I now owed Apollo.
Eyeing the drunk old fart, I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. I had owed Poseidon, but as I reminded him, I’d already repaid my debt. The green haired bastard had parted the damned sea for my people to escape when we were being chased by our most hideous enemy—the fucking Gnomes.
My pack of Werewolves had been beaten to a bloody pulp by the Gnome bastards and if it hadn’t been for the certifiable God of the Sea, I wouldn’t even be standing here at the moment. However, I owed him nothing but gratitude now. He would have to live with that.
“Looks like you’re growling at the wrong wolf,” I said, straddling a more or less intact kitchen chair and bowing my head. I gave the god the respect he was due even if he was a hot mess in Huggies. The gods were indeed crazy.
“Yes, well, I drink a lot,” he replied.
“Understatement,” I muttered under my breath.
“My bad,” Poseidon said, standing up to leave. “I’ll just have to find another insane warrior Werewolf to attack the Gnomes along with the ridiculously gorgeous, unmated, violent Mermaid I’ve chosen for the job. Enjoy your solitude, Rick.”
Solitude sucked. My life sucked. My pets were delightful but kind of boring. Attacking Gnomes sounded like an excellent adventure. I hated those bastards with a passion. And Mermaids? Spending time with a swimming hottie while killing Gnomes was a no-brainer.
Plus, if I did something heroic my pack might let me live within twenty miles of the compound.
“Hang on there, old man,” I said quickly before he disappeared.
Poseidon’s smug grin grew wide and we both knew he had me.
“Tell me more,” I said eyeing him cautiously. The God of the Sea tended to leave important details out.
“Are you mated?” he asked.
“Umm… no. I’m not,” I growled. My love life was none of his business. I did just fine in the lady department until they figured out I was into hobbies that occasionally ended in decapitation.
“Can you cook?” Poseidon went on with his bizarre interrogation.
; “I can make a sandwich.”
The God of the Sea wrinkled his brow in thought. What the fuck was going on here? How was cooking involved with killing Gnomes and potentially shagging a violent Mermaid? Would I lose the gig if I was hopeless in the kitchen?
“I can boil water,” I offered. “And I can open bottles with my fangs. I can also use the microwave.” I casually moved to block his view of the three charred microwaves I’d blown up. How was I supposed to know you couldn’t put metal in the pieces of shit?
“Can you keep your dick in your pants?” Poseidon inquired as he reseated himself on the couch.
“Literally or figuratively?” I questioned, not sure what the right answer was.
“Answer the question.”
“Is it a trick question?” I pressed, really wanting to get it correct.
“No, boy,” Poseidon bellowed. “Answer it.”
Shit. Fine. The truth is supposed to set you free… “I seem to have a difficult time keeping it in my pants,” I told him.
“What are your thoughts on Mermaids?”
“Completely carnal.” Again, I replied truthfully as my pants got a little tighter.
“And what would you have to say about a pink haired Mermaid, armed to the teeth, and with a death wish stronger than yours?” Poseidon inquired with a grin.
“I’d have to say I’m already in love.”
“Excellent,” he shouted and tossed me his bottle of rum. “You’re hired. Pack a bag. You’re going to Tennessee.
“What’s in Tennessee?” I asked and then took a healthy swig.
“Your future, Rick. Your future awaits you in Tennessee.”
Well, shit. Tennessee wasn’t exactly an island paradise, but it sure beat where I was right now. The backwoods of Kentucky were getting depressing.
“I’m in,” I said and then froze. “Can you send someone over to take care of my pets?”
Madison's Mess Page 2
