I considered my possible replies and went for honesty. If Lady were a goddess, maybe she had access to some sort of Akashic Records or something, had checked up on me, and would know if I were lying. But I didn’t have to be specific about why I needed the money more today than yesterday.
“I had some reservations but I’ve decided to take the job.”
Lady sipped her tea and set her cup down. “And are committed to it.”
“Yes, unless you ask me to do something immoral. I have my standards.”
“And what if I asked you to do something illegal?”
“It would depend on what it was,” I said, lifting my teacup. “When you do rescue and recovery, sometimes a thing might not be quite legal, but it is moral and right and therefore okay in my book.”
“And if you had to hurt someone?”
“It would depend on who and why.” I took a sip of tea and set the cup down. “I’m not a thug. I try not to hurt people or get hurt myself.”
Lady smiled. “Good.”
“But I would like to know more about this job I’ve accepted.”
“The duties are varied,” Lady said. “For your first assignment, I want you to find and recover an aubergine pearl necklace that was stolen from the sea goddess, Calypso. Not that Calypso is her real name anymore than Lady Califia is mine, but Calypso will do for conversation between us.”
I filed that away, not knowing if the issue of names was important or not. But recovery of stolen property—that was right in my wheelhouse.
“Do you have any idea where it might be?” I asked.
Lady picked up her teacup again and held it in the air in front of her. “A suitor of mine, Michael Rawlings is his name, stole it from Calypso to make it a gift to me. It’s true I’d expressed admiration for the quality of the pearls, but I never meant for him to steal them.” She paused. “Calypso and I have history. I told you yesterday that she considered the Pride of Zubis to belong to her since it was sunk in her domain. But its cargo had been stolen from the land, from me, and was therefore mine to claim.”
I shrugged that off. Disputes between goddesses were their business. Mine was to recover whatever my employer sent me after.
“Is it just a matter of asking this Michael Rawlings to give it back?”
“If only it were that simple,” Lady said and sighed. “Michael has disappeared. His gift of the pearls was not enough for me to accept him as a potential lover—silly boy. When I turned him down—politely, mind you, but firmly—he stomped off with the necklace like a child and seemingly fell off the earth. He certainly isn’t in California or I’d feel him, unless he was under a hiding spell or a curse—which is possible. I’ve spoken with my sisters, Oregon, Washington, and Colorado, and he’s not there. Arizona has some bug up his nose and won’t speak to me. Let’s say that as far as I can ascertain, he’s not in the western states. Which is not to say he took the necklace with him wherever he went. It could be in a safe deposit box in Long Beach for all I know.”
“So, you have nothing for me to go on?”
“A deadline,” Lady said. “Calypso has sworn to flood me as far inland as the San Andreas Fault if her necklace isn’t returned by Saturday. With ocean water. Salt. Which will ruin the land.”
My eyes widened. “Can she do that?”
“Oh, yes. And I’ve no doubt she will. She can be quite vengeful. So, time is of the essence.”
I fiddled with my teacup. “Saturday is only four days off. With nothing to go on— Where would I start?”
“You might want to speak with Michael’s sister. I’ll give you her address. She won’t speak to me, witch that she is, but she might to talk you. Especially if you had an enticing story. Perhaps he’s come into a bit of money and you’ve been hired to find him.”
I’d caught something in Lady’s statement. “Did you say bitch or witch?”
Lady smiled thinly. “Most definitely a capital W Witch. Powerful. And a bitch, too.”
I was quiet a moment, thoughts racing in my head.
“I went by your house last night,” Lady said, startling me from my thoughts.
“Why?”
“I like to see where my employees live. A person’s home says much about them. You seem to have had a bit of trouble.”
“Some flooding. It should be fine in a week.” I said it casually, but the idea that she’d gone to my house annoyed me. Off the clock is off the clock and privacy isn’t something an employer has the right to invade. There was something weird and almost creepy about it.
Lady put down the cup she’d been holding and leaned toward me. “You must stay here, then, in the meantime. I won’t have you sleeping on friends’ couches or spending good money on bad motel rooms. I want you well-rested and as worry-free as possible when you come to work each morning.”
I didn’t like her assumption that I should jump at the chance to be under her roof. I lived alone for a reason. I liked my privacy and the freedom to come and go as I pleased without having to worry about someone else.
“I have a place to stay. Thank you for the offer, though.”
She peered at me. “I insist.”
A rush of lightheadedness swept through me, and I really, really wanted to accept her offer. Who wouldn’t want to stay in this beautiful house? I felt grateful that she’d be so kind.
I pulled my hands into fists and held my breath a moment until the feeling passed.
“You have power,” I said.
Lady lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t do magic tricks. That’s why I have you. But I do have certain capabilities.”
“Hmmm,” I noised, not happy with having an employer who thought she could control me. Who, in fact, very nearly had. “I think it’s healthy to have some. . . physical distance. . . between the work and home space.”
Lady regarded me. “There are advantages to you for staying here. Expense, for one.”
I did the math in my head—the cost of the hotel room vs. free at Lady’s. The cost of a hotel room deducted from the money available to buy all the things I’d need to replace.
She pursed her lips. “Shayna, it makes sense for you stay here. Agree, and I will give my word to not try to influence or compel you from the moment you say yes onward.”
I wondered why it seemed so important to her, and said so.
“Because time is short and I want you available for whatever I need, whenever I need it.”
I sat very still. I didn’t like ultimatums and I really didn’t like employers who thought their fee bought all of my time for whatever purpose they wanted.
“Saturday, Shayna,” Lady said. “Calypso must have the pearls in her hand by then or my land will be ruined. Your little house will be under much more water than it is now. Salt water. Your home. Your friends’ homes and businesses. Your lovely town—all will be ruined. Our beloved California will be devastated—unless we find and return those pearls. I need you here, available on short notice should there be cause.”
Put like that—
“If I have your word you won’t try to influence or compel me to do anything from this moment on,” I said, “I’ll stay.”
Lady inclined her head. “You have it.”
I believed her. If there was one thing that stood out in my reading about Lady Califia it was her strict adherence to keeping her promises.
“Now,” Lady said, “let’s discuss some other avenues you may want to explore to find the necklace.”
A thought struck me. I held up one finger in a wait sign. “Why don’t you talk to Miranda yourself? You said she won’t talk to you, but I’ve felt your persuasive power. Witch or not, you could get her to tell you what you want to know.”
Lady shot me an indulgent smile. “I am a goddess, Shayna, and I am Lady Califia. A brilliant business woman does not knock on someone’s door demanding information on an erstwhile lover, much less use her powers on said mortal who would be only too quick to tell the world about it. Not if she expects to re
tain respect from the human business and the godly communities.”
I could see her point.
6
Michael’s witchy sister lived in the north end of Redondo Beach, which was less beach town and more typical Los Angeles suburb with single-family homes built in the 50s, apartment complexes built in the 60s, townhouses built in the 70s and 80s on deep lots that used to hold single family homes, and a smattering of big property-line-to-property-line new homes for the aspirational.
The witch, whose given name was Miranda, seemed to be doing well, to judge by where she lived. The faux Victorian painted white with blue trim on the windows and gingerbread stood out as a bit of old-time elegance in the block of stuccoed mini mansions. It was foolish to think kindly toward a person simply because you liked their taste in architecture, but I found myself hoping she’d be open and easy to talk to, that I’d get the information I needed, compliment her on her house, and be on my way.
Miranda opened the door at my knock. I assumed it was her from the description Lady had given me: medium height, blue-black hair hanging to her waist, startling blue eyes. She wore a long, flowing blue tunic over a long flowing darker blue skirt, and brown, fabric ankle boots with flowers embroidered on the toes. Very boho.
“Yes?” she said politely. “Can I help you?”
Before I could speak, she sniffed once and her face hardened. It was pretty clear she’d caught a whiff of my magic. I smiled apologetically and shrugged one shoulder.
“Lady Califia sent me,” I said, since straightforward seemed the best tactic now. “I wondered if you might know and be willing to tell me where your brother, Michael, is. I need to speak to him.”
Her face screwed up and she started to slam the door in my face.
Well, that was rude.
I summoned up a bit of wind to help me push the door open, and stepped inside the house.
“You know who I am,” Miranda said between clenched teeth. “What I am. I will demonstrate my powers for you if you do not turn around and leave my home instantly.”
I gave her a placating smile. “I only know that you are sister to the man Lady Califia believes stole a pearl necklace. All I want to do is talk to him.”
“Ha!” she barked. “I dearly doubt that ‘talk’ is what you have in mind. Not if that prime bitch, Califia, sent you.”
I kept the placating smile plastered on my face and turned my hands palms outward in sign that I meant her no harm. “I’ve been hired to locate and return the necklace to its rightful owner. If your brother has it and gives it to me, no harm will come to him.”
Miranda drew her arms into her sides and clenched her fists. I was pretty sure she was readying a spell, but I didn’t want to attack her if she wasn’t. Magical pissing matches were way down on my list of how to get things done. I much prefer simple conversation.
Evidently Miranda preferred her method. I felt the spell a moment before she started the incantation. I try to give people the chance to change their mind and stand down, so I waited until she was almost committed to throwing her magic before I readied fire.
The spell hurtled toward me faster than I’d expected. I’d barely gotten a firewall up—which would look to her more like a heat mirage than what it truly was—before her spell hit my wall. Her magic sparked and sizzled as it burned away.
Miranda laughed. Which was not the reaction I’d expected.
“Okay then,” she said, a bright gleam lighting her eyes. “Game on.”
“It would be easier for both of us if you’d tell me where your brother is. Tell me, and I’ll be on my way.”
I felt her begin to ready another spell. Miranda wasn’t stupid. The next spell would almost certainly have an anti-fire component to it, maybe an anti-air one as well if she’d realized I’d used air to force her front door open. I can control the four elements—fire, water, earth, and wind—but a smart opponent will figure that out after watching my strikes and counterstrikes for a while. Once my opponent guards against all four elements, I’m pretty much shit out of luck. Not that I’m a one-trick pony. I can do loads of interesting combinations and expressions with my four elements. But I seriously was not in the mood for a fight today.
You know that scene in one of the Indiana Jones movies where Indy is facing off with the swordsman who’s doing all these fancy things with his scimitar and Indy just takes out his gun and shoots him? That was pretty much how I was feeling. Just get it done; fuck all the fancy spellwork shit.
I summoned up a minor earthquake, confined to the footprint of Miranda’s house.
The floor bucked and rolled. Miranda stumbled. She put out her hand to use my shoulder to catch her balance. I twisted away. Miranda stumbled another step and fell to one knee.
“Bitch!” she screamed as she tried to pull back up to her feet.
Another bout of the ground beneath her house shaking and she tumbled onto her back. I put my foot on her chest, holding her down.
She grabbed my leg around the calf and tried to pull me down with her. I summoned up a cocoon of air around me to keep me upright and a layer to keep her held down.
I kept the ground beneath us shaking. Photographs in frames and small pieces of pottery on a shelf rattled against each other. A mirror on the wall swung like a pendulum. I saw the look change in her eyes as she realized she couldn’t get up and that pretty quick all her bric-a-brac on shelves and books in her bookcase were going to start tumbling to the ground.
It seemed stupid to make her wait. I sent another shockwave under the foundation. Pottery danced to the edge of the shelf and crashed onto the hardwood floor. The large mirror followed, broken glass sliding across the room. The big flat screen TV on another wall began shimmying.
“All right,” she spat. “Stop. You win.”
“You swear on your honor and the honor of all who came before you that you will not try to harm me if I let you go?”
She gritted her teeth, but said, “I swear.”
With a flick of my wrist, I stopped the shaking.
I took my foot off her chest. She sat up and stared around her living room.
“Look what you’ve done!” she said. “What was the point?”
“All I want is some information. Tell me what I need to know and I’ll be on my way.”
She blew out a harsh breath. “At least the couch is still in place. You want to sit?”
I nodded and followed her to a long couch, maybe eight feet, covered in red brocade. She sat at one end and I sat at the other. The cushions were comfortable and the back supportive. Except for the red brocade, I wouldn’t have minded having this in my own home.
We sat in silence a moment, staring at each other. Taking each other’s measure, I thought. At least that’s what I was doing. I judged that I’d made my point with her and she wouldn’t try to bullshit me now.
“Do you know where your brother is?” I said.
She started to sneer, then caught herself and banished the urge. “As it happens, I don’t. I haven’t heard from him since,” she looked up at the ceiling as if the date were written there, “winter solstice.”
I tsked. “You could have told me that in the first place.”
She shrugged. “I could have. But since Lady Califia sent you, I assumed a fight would come sooner or later. I went for sooner.”
I filed that away, too. Did Lady usually send people to do her bidding who fought first and asked questions later? If so, she was going to be disappointed in me as an employee.
“Did your brother steal a pearl necklace?”
Miranda sighed. “Yes. He showed it to me. I told him that messing with Calypso was a fool’s game, but he was smitten with Lady Califia and thought his show of daring would sway her to his side. Maybe even make her love him.”
Her face grew dark. “You know she does that—makes men fall in love with her for amusement. She’s a fucking bitch.”
I smiled thinly. “She says the same about you.”
“Good,” Mir
anda said. “She makes a better enemy than friend. Something you might keep in mind.”
“We’re not friends or enemies,” I said. “I work for her, that’s all.”
Miranda leaned toward me. “With humans, even magical humans like us, we make a certain kind of sense to each other. But the gods and goddesses, they’re capricious and crazy. They live a long, long time and they get bored. Toying with humans makes a pleasant diversion for them. You might want to find other employment.”
So, Miranda knew Lady was a goddess. She probably knew Calypso was as well. Did most people in the magical community here know or did Miranda know a mostly well-kept secret?
I really needed to get out more.
I cleared my throat. “If you had to guess where your brother was, where would that be?”
She shook her head. “We were never that close.”
“No favorite place he liked to go? No friend he might turn to?”
Miranda sighed and closed her eyes a moment. “Michael had a girlfriend for a while. Maybe still, for all I know. A Japanese girl named Erin. I’ve been to her place. I think I can find the address for you.”
She got up and disappeared into another room. I looked around the living room. It was going to be a bit of a mess to clean up. I didn’t feel bad about the things that had broken. Just annoyed Miranda had made it necessary.
She returned with a piece of paper in her hand that she gave to me. I glanced at the address.
“Take it and go,” she said, forgetting that she’d been polite a couple of minutes earlier. “And don’t come back.”
I stood and smiled. “Not unless I have to, and I hope I don’t.”
The residence hotel where I had a room was only a little out of my way between Miranda’s and the girlfriend. I headed back to the hotel for a quick freshen up.
In my room with a lovely view of the parking lot, I showered, refreshed my lipstick, and wrapped my hair up into a bun—to keep it out of my way in case the girlfriend also wanted to fight. Having it up in a bun instead of flowing down my back also helped people not get distracted by its color. Sometimes that distraction served me, but I had the feeling that the fewer distractions with the girlfriend the better. I wanted her focused on one thing—telling me where Michael was. If I were lucky, he’d be with her.
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