Hammer Time

by M J Marstens

  I smile, loving this moment. Dad doesn’t talk very much about her because I know it hurts him to bring her up. I wait to see if he’ll say anything else but, instead, he just claps. And out of freaking nowhere—a house falls from the sky to the ground.

  “Holy shit!” I cry. “Good thing I’m not the Wicked Witch of the East or I would be one dead witch.”

  Dev and Tupac laugh. Everyone else just gives me a blank look.

  “Nevermind,” I say. “Dad, where the heck did this come from?”

  I stare in wonder at the tiny house—and I do mean tiny. It’s like those single room kid’s playhouses that apparently are now all the rage to live in. I should know—I sold enough of them at the Home Depot.

  The house is brown planks with dark green shutters with tiny empty planter boxes under each window, and a red front door.

  “Er ...wow. Gee, thanks, Dad. That was super nice of you,” I’m half-lying, half-sincere.

  It was super nice of him. . . except, I can barely fit into his ‘house’. Dad gives me a quick peck on the forehead. He tosses a head nod to the guys and gives a disgusting number of cooing kisses to Tangy and Tanny before striding off again in the direction we came from—probably to collect the rest of his asshole family.

  I grimace. I felt sorrier for him than I did me. Poor guy has to take them back to his house and deal with them—me? I’ll just turn into a swan and fry their asses if they come near me again.

  “OK, everyone. You heard Dad … into the house!”

  Dev looks at me helplessly and I shrug in response before I march over and swing open the front door. I manage to squeeze my lanky body through the miniature frame and I fall into an expansive foyer. Holy shit-nuggets—this house is like the Weasley’s tent!

  “I love magic,” I quote Harry reverently as I stare inside the space that has now easily quadrupled in size. It looks like the foyer of some expensive ski lodge, still wood, but with eighty foot ceilings and the entire hull of a viking ship hung overhead and infused with twinkling lights like it’s some crazy chandelier. “Guys! Get in here! Quick—oh, and bring the goats, too!”

  “Val, there’s no way goats will—what are you guys doing?” I hear Dev question my instructions. But I also hear the stomp of hooves.

  One by one, the guys crouch to come in, wide smiles stretching their faces as they see the interior.

  They don’t call my Dad ‘mighty’ for nothing, but damn, he outdid himself this time. It’s hysterical to see Dev try and shove Tanny through the door while she tries to bite his nose off. I grab her by the collar, careful to twist my hand away from her mouth. Tangy follows and then Dev, who stares in open-mouthed wonder.

  “Wow,” he exhales. “This is fucking badass.”

  I wander up the stairs set back on the left side of the giant entryway and go down a hallway with a row of five doors—bedrooms. I grin when I see the first one decked out in Egyptian relics.

  “Oh, Khepri! Dad made you a room!” I call.

  The Egyptian god races up the stairs. He pauses for a second when he sees what's inside before he bounds into the room, hooting with joy.

  “It’s just like my old temple before Ra the Cunt-Faced Fucker destroyed it!” he yells in obvious delight and my heart constricts to hear his unabashed joy. He never says so, but I know from Ve2, my great uncle, that being a minor and mostly forgotten god can cut deeply.

  I open the next door. There are red columns, stone lanterns, and a wooden shrine. The feeling that emanates from the room is pure peace. I turn back to the guys.“Raiden, yours is next.”

  Raiden comes up with Lover and Dev trailing behind him. He steps into his room. At first, I’m a little worried that he might destroy something in his addled state. But he turns to me with reverence.

  “Your father made my room like my family temple. It was my favorite place to go when I was a child and I would pray to my ancestors to bring them honor.”

  “Awww!” I coo. “That’s so sweet, Mulan! I’ll leave you to it, then.”

  Raiden looks confused when I call him the name of Disney’s most badass heroine, but I move along and open the next door.

  A burst of light filters through, nearly blinding me. “Lover! You’re up!”

  Tupac chuckles and mutters, “I’m always up around you,” as he walks in—and falls to his knees. Oh shit! Is he having a heart attack? Can demigods have those? I’ve seen Asteio pass out drunk before so I know that some human frailties can be passed down to us. Quickly, Dev and I rush over.

  “Are you okay?” I demand in worry.

  “I’m. . . fine. More than fine.”

  He looks up at me and I swear that I see the sheen of tears in his eyes.

  “This is exactly what my homeland looks like—it’s been four hundred years, seventy six days, ten hours, and fourteen minutes since I’ve seen it.”

  Understanding now, I lean down and wrap him in a hug. He pulls me in tight against him and I can feel his joy. It’s a warm, radiant thing, just like the sun. It soaks into my skin.

  “I know it’s not exactly the same—but welcome home,” I whisper in his ear.

  Lover barely turns his head, but it’s enough to bring his mouth dangerously close to mine. The familiar electric charge that I feel in close proximity to any of the guys begins to hum between us. I hear Dev’s gasp and Tupac and I spring apart. Carefully, I clear my voice.

  “Alrighty. I’ll just leave you to it, then. I guess.” Wow, I’m awkward. “Later, Lover.”

  I practically run from the room with Dev hot on my heels. I know he wants to talk about what happened—but I don’t—so, I quickly open his door to his room and shove him in. I expect a protest, but silence greets me. I peek inside to see what could have rendered my friend speechless and see computer screens filling the space from floor to ceiling along all four walls.

  “Oh, wow,” I say in shock.

  I didn’t even know Dad knew much about human technology.

  “I love your dad,” Dev murmurs and I burst into laughter.

  “I’ll be back,” I tell him.

  I walk out and open the fifth door—but it’s a bathroom. Grumbling because I think Dad thought of everyone but me, I meander through the house. I go back downstairs. There’s an impressive living room and a fully equipped and stocked kitchen, but still no extra bedroom. It’s not until I come to a warded door on the complete opposite side of the house that I know I’ve finally found it. The instant my hand touches the handle, the door springs open to reveal my room from Dad’s house, complete with Animaniac figurines and pictures of my mom and Dot.

  “I love you, Dad,” I tell the room, walking to my closet full of all my favorites.

  I quickly change so that the guys and I can reconvene, but not before I collapse on my bed in a fit of giggles. Dad made my room warded and on the other side of the house not to protect me from outside threats—but to keep me separated from the others!

  I laugh some more until my sides hurt and I let out an embarrassing honk—whoops! I’ll have to watch out for that.

  Poor Dad.

  He had probably been hoping to keep at least one of his Valkyries pure—and thank Alfheim3 that he can’t read minds because my thoughts recently have been very impure. Raiden’s statement from earlier fills my mind as I get ready for bed. I fall asleep to dreams of four naughty concubines.

  16

  Tupac

  “We need a way to attack Ra,” Khepri says, shaking his head as we stand around the kitchen in Thor’s Habitat for Demi-Humanity house. It’s become our unofficial hideout since Thor promised we were safe—inside, at least. I’m a little skeptical, however, because Val’s stepmoms or sisters could possibly know about this place. And after that embarrassing defeat they just suffered, I’m pretty sure they’re going to spread the word like a mockingbird. (I’m totally the better rapper.)

  “No shit, Sherlock,” I tell him as I pull out a kitchen stool and sit. I’m not exactly sure what Sherlock is, but I’ve seen
that said online, so I know it’s some kind of insult. Doubled with the ‘no shit’ to a shit god, I’m feeling pretty clever, you know?

  “But if we attack Ra … won’t the sun fall from the sky?” Devin bites his lip and glances over at Val. They share this angsty glance.

  I’ve never been jealous of someone else’s angst before—but I am now—I want to play the angst game with that woman.

  Any game really. My eyes drift to her nipples for a second, which I recall are the perfect coral pink, before I listen to the conversation.

  “If another sun god doesn’t pick it up, yeah, the sun will fall and destroy the earth,” Khepri sighs.

  Raiden shakes his head. “But, that would be the end of everyone. No earth and no humans means no gods,” he says in a brief moment of lucidity, which disappears when he adds, “But, it would also mean the end of lima beans.”

  I scrunch my nose. “Yeah, let’s not go the way of the dino gods.”

  Dev raises a finger in the air, pausing mid-sip. “Wait. Timeout. Dinos had gods?”

  “They were way more intelligent than they were given credit for,” I tell him, using my serious eyes. “There are abandoned worship sites for dinos all over the place.”

  Dev looks over at Val for confirmation. He doesn’t quite believe me. Not as dumb as he looks.

  When she rolls her eyes he flips me off, but Raiden surprises me by taking my side.

  “The Japanese worship Godzilla, which is pretty much a dinosaur with the name god built right in. We have temples for him everywhere.”

  He beams a brilliant grin my way and I laugh at both his stupidity and since before his “accident,” I swear that he never smiled a day in his life. That god never had a happy day, and I bet when he jizzed he still frowned.

  This concussion might be the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him.

  Khepri chimes in, “If we’re done talking about fairy tales, and can continue with the Ra issue … we have a lot of problems with attacking him midday. Unfortunately, most of the other solar deities are less powerful than him.”

  “Even Apollo?” I ask. Those Greek assholes always get all the glory. Dev, who's now passing out coffee, hands me a steaming cup that may or may not have a loogie floating in it. I lick my lips and grin at him naughtily before I take a sip. If he thinks I have any sort of issues exchanging bodily fluids, he’s got another thing coming. (Although, I meant that in a sexy way—swapping spit and loads and shit—not snot.)

  Khepri’s face grows red when he hears my question and he clears his throat uncomfortably, staring down at his own mug, which says Jewels Cafe and has a little ruby on it. “I don’t know about Apollo. He and I … haven’t gotten along for nearly a millennium.”

  I roll my eyes. “What happened, you bang that tree nymph of his?”

  “No!” Khepri protests. “I just happened to think Pan was the better musician … and I ended up with donkey ears for a century because of it.”1

  I swallow a laugh, picturing the head guard with donkey ears. Damn, if we’d had the low down on that in the Back Hole, we would have made so many ass jokes to go along with the shit ones.

  Next to me, Devin squints at him. “But, wasn’t that a long time ago?”

  “Gods don’t forget,” Val sighs, running a hand through her long, luscious hair.

  Just watching her makes my heart pump faster. My eyes trace the line of her elegant neck and a bit of desperation seeps into my pores. She’s let me touch her, let me watch her, will she ever let me …

  My mouth is moving before I realize what I’m saying. “I could catch it.”

  All eyes turn to look skeptically at me.

  “You?” Khepri scoffs, the arrogant asshole. “You aren’t even a full god.”

  I narrow my eyes and grit my teeth. The urge to nut punch him is pretty damn strong, but he’s got a hot cup of coffee near Val, so I resist.

  Val sets her coffee down on the countertop and says, “I think that’s a great idea.”

  My dick and the rest of my body twitches in excitement. The near-certain-death I’m probably facing fades to a distant worry-about-it-tomorrow kind of problem as Val’s attention takes the forefront for today.

  I smile down at her and she returns my look, which feels like the softest sunlight at the end of the afternoon.

  Val steps over and grabs my hand. And suddenly, I can’t judge Dev anymore for how smitten he looked after a little hand holding yesterday. Because I’m wearing the exact same expression on my face. There’s something about Val. This electricity. And I’m not just talking about the lightning bolt she swallowed.

  “I used to train with my dad,” she tells me. “I might be able to help.”

  Khepri hurries to add his two cents. He stops right next to Val and peers down at her. “I should help, too. I’m better equipped to train him.”

  Raiden decides to chime in, too.

  “I can make rain,” he claims proudly.

  “That’s. . . awesome. And training is all well and good if we end up having a plan to attack against Ra, but we don’t have an idea of how we’re going to protect ourselves at all,” I point out.

  Val presses her lips together. “That’s true.”

  She turns to Khepri, “Why don’t you help Tupac, while the three of us stay here and work on a plan—”

  I interrupt. “I’d rather work with you,” I tell Val quickly.

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m far more qualified—” Khepri starts to argue.

  “You’re a god!” I tell him. “That makes you completely unqualified to understand any of the issues a demigod might have. Plus, you were my captor for oh, I dunno, four centuries, and I had to listen when you told me to piss, so no—I’m done taking orders from you. Talk to the hand!” My rant gets a little more heated than I intended, but I realize even as the words fly out of my mouth that I mean them. I don’t want to listen to an arrogant god spouting off shit like ‘this is so easy’ when it’s not.

  Val reaches out and squeezes my hand. She gives me an understanding smile. “Okay. I’m happy to practice with you.”

  Oh, how I wish practice was a metaphor for something else. There are so many things I want to “practice” on Val but the only one I get to do is the hand-holding as we leave the forest and walk until we have enough signal to call a rideshare car to take us to a local gym. Turns out, Thor’s shack-turned-mansion-magic-house is near where Val grew up with her mom and sister and is about twenty minutes from the city. So, Val says she knows the perfect place for us to train.

  When we walk in, I’m nearly blinded by the bright pink and purple paint. Every inch of the space is covered in mats that sink beneath your feet. And there’s a sparkly unicorn on the far wall underneath the clock that would offend any true unicorn.2

  “Where are we?” I wonder with a grimace.

  “This place teaches kids’ gymnastics, but it’s mostly just girls who join,” she tells me. “I went here for a little while when I was younger. My sister did gymnastics, so obviously, I had to try it. But I had to quit when … I went to live with my dad.”

  She is sharing her past with me. Among gods (and demigods) information is a weapon. Information lets others see your vulnerabilities—lets them know how to attack you. I know less about previous cellmates that I spent centuries with than I now do about this beautiful brunette at my side.

  The sadness in her voice tugs at me. I give her hand a squeeze and I trace a tender finger down her face.

  But the owner of the building, a middle-aged human woman who’s incredibly fit, comes out of an office to meet us, and totally ruins the moment. She shakes hands with Val as they talk about renting the place for a few hours.

  While they chit-chat, I roam and touch some bars covered in chalk, then stride over to a strange bench that seems too small for giants but too large for humans.

  Val rejoins me with a smile as the owner disappears out the front door to give us a bit of privacy. “So, I hope you’re fast.”


  “Only when I have to be,” I trace my hand up her arm, letting my innuendo settle over her.

  She rolls her eyes. “Well, you have to be for this.”

  “Okay. But I want to be slow later. Super slow. Glacier slow.”

  Val shakes her head but there’s a smile on her face. “I’m gonna start calling you One Track if you can’t focus on anything else.”

  “Lover is a far better name,” I tease.

  She just sighs and goes to pull out some large foam mats. I help. We set up an obstacle course around the room. Then she turns to me. “Your goal is to run the obstacle course with as big a ball of fire as you can, tossing it up and down. But, forewarning, if you burn this building down, you’re gonna have to pay for it, and little five-year-olds in pigtails will sob until it’s rebuilt.”

  My throat gets a little dry at that. But before I can respond, Val shifts into her swan. Her mouth opens and orange lightning zaps my ass.

  I run, yelling at the low trick. She’s playing dirty. She’ll pay for that later. I form a ball of fire and try to toss and catch it as I dodge Val and leap over piled mats.

  The first time, I trip and drop the fireball, I forget to put it out. I fall right through it, unharmed, incredibly glad I paid Stata Major3 to fireproof my hair and clothes centuries ago, because though my body is technically fireproof, the hair (for some ungodly reason) isn’t. And it’s my best fucking feature. Women go gaga for it.

  The smell of burnt plastic wafts over me—I’m going to be paying for that—and Val’s swan beak nips my ass, making me jump.

  “Hey! Ass play only in human form!” I scold her.

  I’ve tried it other ways and the human way is literally the only pleasurable one.