by Staci Hart
“Yeah. I don’t want to think about it.” Perry paused, clearly thinking about it before changing the subject. “Well, your plan sounds solid. I think you can make it work.”
“I can definitely make it work, but I’m still worried.” Dita put her forehead in her hands. “I am so tired, and I am beyond mad at Artemis. Look.” She held her trembling hand out flat to illustrate. “I mean, what if they can’t catch him?”
“Ugh. Poor Josie. This is so hard on her.”
Dita’s anger rolled around in her, and she felt herself scowling.
“Did you sleep?”
“Nope. After my meltdown yesterday, I was sure I’d pass out. After you guys left last night, I took a super long bubble bath and read, but when I lay down, I couldn’t sleep. I stared out the window until the sun came up.”
“Did you doze at all?”
Dita took a deep breath. “Yeah. Not okay.”
“Want to tell me?”
“Not the details, but last night was the Adonis show. He died over and over again in my arms, and I couldn’t stop it. Then I’d realize that I was holding the knife, and the dream would start over.”
“Gods, Dita.”
“I know. I’m sick, and I don’t know how to get better. No one can help me.”
Perry looked over her, uncertain. “I had a thought, but I don’t know if you want to hear it.”
Dita rolled her eyes. “I mean, how much worse could it get? Just tell me.”
“Never jinx yourself like that. I don’t think I should tell you now.”
“No, now you basically have to. Tell me,” Dita demanded.
“Well, I was just thinking about Echo bringing you the mirror. Why would she just up and do that?”
The corners of Dita’s lips dropped. “I was too focused on having it and losing it to wonder.”
“It just seems really strange to me that she would bring it to you unprompted. How did she even know you would be interested in it? Someone had to tell her. She never leaves her cave, like, ever.”
Dita’s thoughts fired in her head like Black Cats in a tin can. “Artemis.”
“Yeah,” Perry said flatly
“Mother fucker,” Dita breathed. “She did it to fuck with me, to mess with my head.” She shook her head with her eyes out of focus, not believing it. “If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t have fought. I wouldn’t have gone through the pain that the mirror caused. It’s her fault. It’s all her fault.”
“Hang on, you’re the one who went crazy when you got it,” Perry reminded her.
“I know that, but she instigated the whole thing. She set it all up to hurt me on purpose.”
“We don’t know that she wanted to hurt you. In fact, we don’t even know for sure if she did it.”
That was all Dita needed. She flipped her blanket off and stormed to the elevator. “Well, I’m going to fucking find out. Right now. Are you coming?”
Perry eyed her warily. “I don’t know if you can handle her in your current state of zombie brain, but is there really any way to stop you?”
“No.” Dita practically ran for the elevator, untethering her anger and letting it fly. “ I’m pretty much running strictly on adrenaline, which could go really badly for her if she crosses me.”
Perry trotted in behind her, and the doors closed. “Should we have a safe word in case you go ape-shit?”
“Good idea.” Dita thought for a second. “Purple rain.”
“Ooh. Done. Will you actually stop if I say it?”
“Probably.”
The elevator doors opened into Artemis’ domain, and Dita barreled down the path lit by moonlight to the boulder where they made camp. The Oceanids scrambled for weapons as she approached, moving around their small fires with their eyes on her, as several drew their bows.
Dita held her hand up and knocked two down with a blast. “Artemis,” she called.
Artemis pushed the flap of her tent open and stepped out with her lips in a flat line. “Aphrodite.”
Dita stopped across from her. “You sent Echo to me with the mirror, did you not?”
Artemis’ hands were loose at her side, and Dita made note of the dagger just visible in her boot and the other in her holster.
“I did. I believed that you would appreciate the opportunity to see him again.”
“Oh, I am so sure that you did this out of the kindness of your heart.” The sarcasm cut through the air. “You cruel, twisted creature. You toy with things that you do not understand. You are careless and vicious with the hearts of others. You have no concern for me or Josie or anyone. You’ve thrown your player into the fire, and on purpose. It’s irresponsible and foolhardy and cavalier and … and … I don’t know, just fucked the fuck up.”
Everything else grew dark as Artemis began to glow, as if she drew all of the moonlight into her skin. “I do not answer to you, especially when you come into my home in the middle of the night to pick a fight.”
Nymphs lined up around Aphrodite with their bows drawn.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Artemis. You can’t scare me. I’ve been into the depths of Hades and lived through more than you can even fathom.” Dita knew her eyes were glowing as the wind whipped around her. “Tell your bitches to back off. I don’t want any of them to get hurt.”
“Do not threaten me.”
“I didn’t threaten you,” she said, her voice deadly calm. “I threatened them.”
“Purple rain.” Perry was tentative, her eyes bouncing between the goddesses.
Aphrodite waved her off without even looking in her direction. “You are so out of touch. You have no idea how humans work, how love or emotions work. They’re like little playthings for you. Does it make you happy to cause them pain?”
Artemis’ eyes were dark as she dropped her chin, and her jaw set in a hard line. “I don’t want Josie hurt.”
“But if she does get hurt, it’s no skin off your nose, is it? Do you care about anything? Have you ever cared about ANYTHING?”
“I have cared more deeply than you and your loves.” Artemis took a step toward her, seething and accusing. “How can the goddess of love be so blind to her own relationships? You claim to love a hateful dog who would murder you if he could, and if it meant no other could have you. Your other ‘love’ is a vapid half-wit who has been dead for three thousand years. And then,” she scoffed, “there is your husband, who you have made a cuckold of for eternity. Could you truly be so empty? Really, I believe it is only proof that you have never loved anyone but yourself.”
The words swallowed her whole and spit her out hot. Her face twisted as she ran for Artemis, shrieking like a harpy. Artemis dodged her, and Perry ran flailing into the fray as the two women circled each other.
“Purple rain! PURPLE RAIN!” Persephone yelled as she chased Aphrodite.
When Perry caught her, she pulled Dita’s arms, dragging her toward the path away from camp. Dita’s eyes never left Artemis, though her rage and wrath ebbed by a degree. She shook Perry off.
“Don’t act like you have your shit together, Artemis. Orion is gone, and by no fault of mine. Deal with your own baggage.” She punctuated her words with the point of her finger. “Insult me all you want, but it’s not my problem that you can’t get over the fact that you loved and lost.”
Dita turned and stormed up the hill, and Perry gave an awkward wave and apologetic smile before she turned and trotted to catch up with her friend, leaving Artemis standing amongst her Oceanids. The nymphs lowered their bows and turned to stare at her.
She cleared her throat and held her chin high. “Back to work, and retire early, for we hunt at dawn.”
No one moved.
“That is an order,” she snapped, and the Oceanids dispersed with whispers and looks.
Her cheeks were hot as she blew back into her tent. She closed the flap with a snap and dropped onto her bed, cradling her head in shaky hands, finding truth in every word Aphrodite had spoken.
Day 8
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THE LATE MORNING SUN CUT through the chill as Jon walked up the sidewalk to the Gold Panda Pawn Shop. He’d spoken to Hank Campbell after he left the shooting range, wanting to let her father know she was safe and busy exerting her anger on a paper target. They talked for a while, and Hank brought him up to speed. The biggest takeaway was that Hank believed Rhodes had been planning on leaving since he killed Anne. If he’d been working on setting everything up for months, he wouldn’t have made many mistakes, and finding him wouldn’t be easy.
But that was where Jon could potentially help.
He walked under the yellow awning illustrated with a fat, cartoon panda eating bamboo, and when he pushed open the door, the bell dinged, announcing his entrance. Jimmy Li stuck his head out from the office behind the counter.
“Goddamn, if it isn’t Jon Landreaux.” Jimmy smiled as he walked out.
“Jimmy, what’s up, man?”
Jon approached the counter, and they clasped hands and pulled into a hug, clapping each other on the back.
“Damn, bro. Look at you.” Jimmy shook his head. “It’s been years, Jon. Where the hell did you go?”
Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, well, that’s a complicated story. Short answer is New Orleans.”
“How long have you been back?”
“Little over a month.” Jon glanced around the shop. “What’s been going on around here? You still in the business?”
Jimmy looked over his shoulder. “You’re lucky my old man’s not here, you asking me about that all out in the open like it’s no big deal.”
Jon chuckled. “Old Man Li speaks no English.”
“He may not speak it, but he understands every single word.” Jimmy rested his hands on the counter. “Yeah, I’m still in the business. You need some ID’s made? Security badge maybe? College ID? Gym membership?”
“No, nothing for me. I’m looking for info this time.” Jon pulled a photo of Corey Rhodes out of his pocket and pushed it across the counter. “Have you seen this guy around?”
Jimmy picked up the picture and took a hard look at it. “No. Who is he?”
“A good friend of mine’s partner was killed, and this guy did it.”
“Oh shit, man.”
“They brought him in but couldn’t charge him, and as soon as they let him out, he split town.” Jon shook his head. “This guy’s smart. He’s been killing girls for years, and the cops don’t have so much as a speeding ticket on him.”
Jimmy was stunned. “A serial killer? Whoa.”
“Yeah. I think he’s been planning leaving for a long time. It was too clean … this guy is meticulous. If he was gonna do it right, he would have gotten papers. Ghost papers.”
“It would be the best way to disappear,” Jimmy agreed. “If you’re right, he should be easy to track down. There’s a shitload of work involved in setting someone up with a ghost ID, and it’s risky. We’ve got to find someone near the same age, same general stats, height and weight. It’s getting harder and harder to pull it off, too. Everything’s gone digital, but none of these government agencies check their records against death records unless there’s a reason. Right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing. But now that government agencies are connecting their databases with search engines, ghosting will likely become a thing of the past.”
Jon laughed. “Wow, did you just nerd out on me about government agencies?”
Jimmy feigned hurt. “Hey, don’t joke. Forgers could be out of a job in the next fifteen years, the old school ones. It’s all about digital now, which I am so down with. The number one rule for all entrepreneurs is to adapt.” He tapped his temple for effect.
“Entrepreneur, huh?” Jon smirked.
“Don’t act all high and mighty. You’re in the same boat, Mr. Private Investigator. Anyway, let me ask around and see what I can dig up. I know a lot of other entrepreneurs in forgeries, so hopefully I can find something. I owe you, big time. You’ve gotten me out of more than a couple of fixes over the years.”
“Yes, I have. Thanks, man. The sooner the better because every day that passes means the slimmer the chance we’ll find him.”
“I’ll do whatever I can.”
They said their goodbyes, and Jon headed for the subway. He had Jimmy on his side, and was comforted by the notion that Rhodes might be easier to pin down than he’d thought. Jon only hoped something came of it, that there was some way to find Rhodes. He’d disappeared like vapor and mist, and a rush of uncertainty shot through Jon at the thought that Rhodes could be impossible to trace, that they may never find him, and what that would mean for Josie.
Josie pulled into a salvage lot just across the river, and the gravel crunched under her boots as she stepped out of her car and made her way to the office. She was somber and tired, and futility weighed on her, hanging over her like a thunder cloud.
She’d spent the morning at Rhodes’ workplace in an attempt to sniff out anyone who may have been connected with him, but she’d walked away with a fat zero. His coworkers were shocked that he was a murder suspect, said he was always such a nice guy, so normal. He occasionally went out for drinks with everyone but always kept a distance, never making any real friends at the office.
As Josie approached the trailer office, Pete walked out with a smile as he wiped his hands off on a red rag.
“Hey, Josie. What can I do for you, kid?”
“Hey Pete. I have a favor to ask.” She handed him a flyer she’d made on Rhodes with his picture, stats, and the police contact information. “Have you seen this man? He would have bought a car in cash some time in the last five months or so.”
He raised his gray eyebrows and pulled off his cap, scratching the back of his head with his full hand as he inspected the flyer. “Any idea what he bought? Know what he may have been in the market for?”
“I was hoping you could help with that. I’m not sure where he was headed, but it probably only needed to get him one way.”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” There was no denying that Pete thought it was a lost cause, which it probably was. “I haven’t seen him, but if you want I can ask around.”
“That would be great, Pete. I know it’s a needle in the hay.”
“It is, but I’ll see if I can’t dig something up.”
“Thanks. It’s important.”
“All right, kiddo. I’ll give you a call if I hear anything.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder, and she turned to go.
A thousand thoughts tumbled around her head as she drove home to stare at the crime shrine. It was her only connection to Rhodes, the tangible product of her work, her pain. The familiarity of it gave her comfort, something she desperately sought as she struggled with the realization that there was nothing else to be done. Every lead she’d found was either a dead end or hanging on help from someone else. It was out of her hands.
As she looked over the wall of facts and photos, the clock on the wall ticked on and on, louder and louder until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She stood and turned on music, drowning out the sound with her own noise, turning back to her torture to try to find a way out, a way to find him.
———— Olympus ————
Hooves thundered as Eleni and Helena charged each other with lances out, trailing clouds of dust behind them, their unicorns beneath them snorting as they rushed across the field. Eleni’s teeth were bared, her skin sparkling in the sun and her wings folded tight behind her. She braced her lance and shield, and her unicorn’s white coat gleamed under a sheen of sweat as he huffed down the track. Helena charged as well, and when lance met shield, the smack rang through the woods. Helena flew off the back of her steed, slamming to the ground in a poof of dust.
Artemis sipped wine from where she sat off the path as the Oceanids roared. Eleni cheered from the end of the track with her fist in the air, and her unicorn stamped his hooves with his head high. The joust was Eleni’s idea, an attempt to cheer the camp and Artemis. One of her two goals was achieved, whil
e the other eluded Eleni and Artemis both.
Helena stumbled as the Oceanids helped her up, but otherwise looked unharmed. Another Oceanid ran for the free unicorn and hopped onto its back with a whoop. She was handed Helena’s lance and shield, and the nymphs lined up at opposite ends of the track for another round.
Artemis paid little attention. Her mind was still on Aphrodite’s fit from the night before and the words that were exchanged.
You can’t get over the fact that you loved and lost.
She didn’t know how to stop missing Orion, how to stop wishing things could be different. He was stolen from her in a manner unfair and unjust, killed over a misunderstanding, trying to save her. It was a thing which she could never forget, and never forgive herself for.
He was her one chance, and losing that changed her, rearranged her into something harder, someone with less patience for things that they couldn’t control. Like love.
★★★
Orion and Artemis lay under the stars on a tall cliff, surrounded by swaying cypress trees that stretched like spears up to the sky, black on black. A road of stars trailed up and away from the horizon among clusters of blue and purple clouds of stardust, bright against the dark of night.
“It is so difficult to fathom immortality,” Orion said with his eyes on the constellations.
“I do not generally try to fathom it. Only live it one day at a time, one foot in front of the other.” She looked over at him where he lay next to her.
His hands were tucked behind his head, his face unreadable, illuminated by the stars. “Do you think that perhaps the reason you do not contemplate living forever is because you have not encountered loss?”
She bristled and trained her eyes on the sky. “I have lost much in my life. I have been through hardship.”
“But have you felt a loss so great that it causes you to measure time? A loss so deep that you count each day in the future, knowing the pain it will hold?”
Her brow furrowed “I do not understand.”