by Staci Hart
His words were soft when he spoke. “Artemis, you have never lost one dear to you. Not your mother, much to Hera’s dismay, or your brother. You have Eleni. You have me.”
She turned to find him looking down at her with his head propped on his hand.
“Yes, and I always will. I will never let harm fall on any of you,” she answered simply.
“Artemis, you cannot stop fate.” He reached for her cheek and pushed her hair behind her ear, his fingertips trailing fire across her skin.
“Do not speak of this, please. You are immortal as well, in a way.”
“In a way, yes, but I can be killed, and there are ways to kill you too, few though they may be. Death will find us as life did. It is a thing in which we have little choice.”
“Please,” she whispered. “You mustn’t leave me.”
“I will be with you as long as I am able.”
The tenderness and sadness in his words unraveled her as she looked into his eyes. The moonlight shone on his face, carving shadows and angles that her fingers ached to touch. She reached for him, winding her arm around his neck, drawing him close, and when her lips pressed against his, she was lost.
★★★
A tear fell as Artemis drained her goblet, her eyes seeing nothing as Eleni unseated another Oceanid, and the nymphs cheered in answer. Artemis set the empty chalice down and stood, banishing her sadness, and the din grew louder, her name echoing in her ears as she jogged to the unicorn of the fallen nymph. She pulled herself onto his back, wishing to erase her past, even if only for a moment.
Artemis was handed a lance and shield, and her nymphs ran back to the crowd. She turned for the track and braced herself with her mind on Orion and Aphrodite’s words ringing in her ears. Eleni charged, and Artemis kicked with a “H’ya,” but as they approached each other, she lost her resolve. Her thoughts skittered through her head, and her focus waned just as Eleni reached her.
The jolt from Eleni’s lance to her chest hit her like lightning. Artemis landed flat on her back in a cloud of dust, and her eyes snapped open, her lungs frozen and empty. She gasped, staring at the blue sky above. Eleni’s face appeared over her, and she held her hand out.
“How rare, goddess.” Eleni seemed alarmed, though smug enough at winning.
Artemis coughed, her voice rough. “Do not taunt me.”
“Whatever has gotten into you?”
She ignored Eleni’s hand and stood on her own. “Nothing. I’ve had too much wine is all.”
Eleni eyed her.
“I said I was fine. Please, let’s not be dramatic.” Artemis dusted off her robes with more force than was entirely necessary.
“As you say,” she said with a small bow before turning for her steed once again.
Artemis’ skin crawled as the noise from her nymphs grew all of a sudden too loud, the sun too bright. She made her way to Calix, hopping onto his back as the Oceanids turned their eyes to her.
“Carry on, friends. I am weary and wish for solitude.” They mostly looked concerned, so she added, “The first of you who dismounts Eleni will receive a weapon of their choice from my personal armory.”
Eleni scowled from the other end of the field, but the expression shifted into a suppressed smile as the nymphs laughed and whooped, the tension broken. Artemis took the opening and fled, her tears streaking her face at angles as she rode as hard and fast as Calix would take her.
Dita stretched out on her side in her library, running her hand down Bisoux’s back as she stared at the fire from the sheepskin rug. The flames danced and jumped, and she watched the glowing ash float up into the chimney. The logs burned bright orange, flaring when the air hit the hot wood, phasing bright to dark as she stared, hypnotized.
The next thing she knew, Heff called her name. She blinked and propped herself up with a start to find him in her doorway, his dark hair pushed back from his face, his eyes bright with concern. Two wooden boxes rested in his arms.
“Gods, Dita did I wake you? I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I don’t even know.” Dita rolled onto her back and stretched as he sat down on the couch.
His worry melted into excitement. “I made you something. Two somethings, actually.”
She sat, smiling when Bisoux trotted over to him and licked his hand. Heff passed her the wooden boxes and picked the little dog up, scratching at a spot on his side that always made his leg thump.
Dita laid the boxes down in front of her and ran her hand over the top of the larger one. It was a deep chestnut with mother-of-pearl triangles inlaid on the surface to form the image of a dove, like a tangram. There was always a trick to his boxes, and she felt for a switch across the inlays with the pads of her fingers. The shape over where the dove’s heart would be clicked, and the triangles sank and slid under each other until the lid was gone.
She reached into the box and pulled out the machine that sat inside. It was a triangular terrarium, a pyramid made of glass, joined at the seams with copper metal. Inside were shells in pinks and creams that were sliced to show the angles and shapes of the chambers, displayed on a bed of white sand.
Heff watched quietly, smiling as she inspected the device. She turned it around in her hands and ran her finger up the dark seams. There was a small button at the top point, and she pressed it.
She sound of the ocean filled her ears, the crash and hiss of the waves as they hit the shore. She closed her eyes, and she was in Greece.
“Press it again,” he said.
She did, and the triangle filled with black. Small, uneven stars floated inside, spinning slowly, shining silver. The sound that the machine made was binaural, two tones weaving in and out of each other, soft and soothing. She sighed, almost immediately relaxed.
“There’s one more.”
Dita pushed the button again, and the scene transformed to a miniature mossy landscape with small mountains and a waterfall that rushed out of the face of the stone, running into a pool at the bottom. The sound of rushing water filled the room, and she smiled up at him, amazed.
He smiled back. “It’s set to your biorhythms and will adjust to your body. It will speed up your REM too, so you should dream less, if at all.”
“Heff, it’s brilliant,” she whispered as she turned it around in her hands.
He flushed a little. “I just hope it helps.”
“I have a good feeling that it will. Thank you.” They locked eyes, and the silence hung for a stretched out moment between them.
“Open the other one,” he said.
Dita remembered herself and blinked, laying the sleep machine next to her. She reached for the smaller box. It matched the larger box in design but was a fraction of the size, about the width of her palm with a geometric inlay of a star on the top. She turned it over in her hands and gave it a shake, noticing that three of the points of the star were an almost imperceptibly different shade than the others. She pushed all three, and the points retracted, revealing a long chain with a rose gold pendant, and she pulled it out, trailing it across her palm. She touched the ‘D’ stamped into the disc’s face.
“I love it, Heff, but what’s the occasion?”
“Well,” he deposited the dog on the floor and moved down to the rug next to her, taking the chain, “it’s more than just a necklace, or bracelet if you want.” He held her hand tenderly as he wrapped the chain around and around her wrist. “If you’re ever in trouble, click the pendant. It’s a button, see?” He mashed it, and she heard a small click. “Pressing it once won’t do anything, just in case you hit it by accident, but if you click it three times, it will shoot a chemical from right here.” He showed her the hole at the base of the pendant, along the rim.
“You made me god mace.” She laughed.
His smile was bright, a flash of white in the dark of his beard. “Perry told me. Although, I couldn’t come up with any egocide.”
“I’m pretty sure his ego is unstoppable.” Dita twisted her wrist, and the firelight caugh
t the metal. “What will it do?”
“It will make whomever you shoot it at pass out for at least five minutes. Long enough for you to get away or for me to come to you.”
“How will you know?”
He held up his own charm, though his was silver and larger, engraved with flames, a hammer, and a solid ‘H.’ “If you press your pendant twice, it will call me.”
Relief ran through her, and she leaned over to wrap her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek and whispered, “Thank you,” into his ear.
He squeezed her tight and released her, looking down at her as he pulled away.
“I hope they help, Dita.” He touched her cheek and stood to walk around the couch, but stopped in the doorway.
“I can’t even tell you what this means to me.”
Heff’s burning eyes locked on hers. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
Dita nodded, her throat tight. “I know.”
“Sleep well, Wife,” he said in parting.
“I will, Husband.”
Dita watched him walk away with a large part of her wishing he’d stayed. When he was out of sight, she picked up her terrarium again and pressed the buttons to cycle through the settings, stopping on the shining stars that spun slowly to the strange tonal sound. She stood and made her way to her bedroom where she set the machine on her nightstand and reached for her window remote to close the curtains and dim the lights. The room was cool and quiet other than the odd and soothing sounds of the machine. When she climbed into bed, she wrapped herself in her duvet and fell into a deep, quiet sleep.
Day 9
JON LEANED BACK IN HIS chair at his desk that morning and ran a hand through his hair. He’d been working on his evidence spreadsheet on Rhodes all morning, even though it was irrelevant. He just wasn’t sure what else to do, what else he could do. He’d lined up everything he could think of to try to find Rhodes, called in every favor in his arsenal, and there was nothing left to do but wait. Rhodes’ picture and info were hanging in all the border stations, but Jon didn’t think he’d cross to Canada. Maybe to Mexico, but he hoped to God that wasn’t the case. If it was, they may never find him.
Really, he’d hung his hopes on Jimmy finding something on Rhodes. If he didn’t, they were all lost.
Jon buried himself in researching and logging the kills to occupy himself as he waited, which was the most menial task he could attend to. He had to keep his hands busy, needed something he could pour energy into. At least he felt productive.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and adrenaline flashed through him when he saw that it was Jimmy Li.
“What’s the good word?” Jon answered with his throat tight.
“You’re in luck. I know the forger who got your guy his papers, sent him the dude’s picture and he remembered, no problem. Better still … I’m pretty sure I know where he’s going.”
“Oh my God, Jimmy.” Jon couldn’t even move.
“Grab a pen, bro.”
Jon snapped to and picked up a pen, then flipped to a new page in his blue notebook. “Shoot.”
“The ID’s were for the name Gabriel Reilly, who died in a car accident about six months ago in Seattle, but no one informed the Department of Social Security. Smart ghosters stick to the state where the ID is from and get a new ghost every ten years, max. Even that’s pushing it. Anyway, if you’re going to take over someone’s life and you have fake papers, the best way to keep getting away with it is to not rock the boat. Don’t go to a new state and try to apply for a license, because that’s just asking for trouble.”
“So, you think he’s going to Washington?”
“If he’s smart, yeah. Let me give you all his numbers.”
“You guys keep all this information on file?”
“Hell yes. We don’t want to double book an ID. Plus, sometimes when we put in favors to guys like you, it can keep us safe from the long arm of the law. You ready for the rest of the info?”
“Yeah." Jon jotted down the information for the license and social security number with his mind on Josie. He had to get to her.
He stuffed his phone and the info on Rhodes into his pocket, grabbed his keys and jacket, and ran out the door.
Josie paced the length of her apartment that morning to offset her standstill with Rhodes. She’d barely slept, and through the long hours of the night, her thoughts had run away with her. Rhodes had disappeared without a single trace, and every minute that passed carried him farther away from her. She’d hit the end, scraped the bottom, and she didn’t know what else to do.
It was then that she realized that they would never find him. She stopped in the middle of the room and stared at the photos of all the women he had killed, and her chest ached with the knowing that they would never be redeemed. Her eyes lingered on Anne’s photo and welled with tears.
A pep talk was what she needed, so she called her dad, hoping he had something to recharge her hope.
Hank answered with a “Hey.”
“Hey, Dad.” She heard the defeat in her voice and bit her lip.
“That bad, huh?”
“Yeah. I’ve got nothing. Please tell me that you’ve got even a whiff of a lead.”
Hank sighed. “It’d be a lie. His accounts have all been dormant, and every lead we’ve found has ended up a dead end. It seems that not a single person called him a friend. In fact, I think you knew him better than anyone”
“That is so messed up,” she said as she sat down on her couch.
“That also means that if you don’t know where he is …”
She ran a hand across her forehead.
“Do you have any connections you can call in?” Hank asked.
Jon’s face flashed in her mind. “Not really. I’ve kind of been a loner lately, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Yeah, but surely there’s someone, right? You need a resource, someone fresh. Is there anyone you can trust? I think we’re all too close, honey, and a new perspective could be the thing that makes a difference.”
Her heart climbed into her throat, her hands numb and cold when she recognized that he was right. It seemed so clear, so stupid that she would resist calling Jon when all he wanted to do was help. But why would he help her after how horrible she’d been to him? In her heart, she already knew the answer.
“I could call Jon.”
“Landreaux?” Hank didn’t sound mad enough. “Smart kid. He could be a real asset to you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, what?”
“What do you mean, ‘what?’ You need help, and he can help you. I can’t be there for you on this like you need. Maybe Landreaux will have some insight.”
“What in the bloody hell?”
“Go call him. Let me know what you find out. Okay?”
As confused as she was by his consent, she knew he was right and agreed. She’d agreed even before he insisted. “Okay. I’ll call you later.”
“Good luck, Jo.”
“I’ll need it. Give me a day’s head start if he turns up missing.”
He laughed. “Deal.”
She hung up and stared at her screen for a moment, getting up the nerve to call him. What would he say? Would he turn her away? If he agreed, they’d be spending a lot of time together, and that thought made her stomach flip. Working together as a team was almost beyond her comprehension, and she wasn’t sure how she’d handle it. The last time they’d worked together, they were together.
Josie chewed her lip. She just had to try to remember that he was a dick, remember all of the things he’d done to hurt her, all the pain he’d caused. Just had to keep throwing those red-hot, pissed off logs on the fire.
More immediately, she had to eat crow. Her pride flared up in her chest, and she shook her head, trying to shove her hubris off a cliff. It wasn’t about her. It was about Anne and Hannah Mills and the dozens of girls Rhodes murdered. Her ego could sit down and shut up until it was over.
With that, she pulled up Jon’s name, hit
send, and swallowed hard.
Jon’s phone rang from his pocket, and he almost tripped when he saw Josie’s name on his screen.
“Hey,” he answered.
She took a deep breath in his ear. “I need your help.”
Jon felt a lazy smile crawl across his face and realized that he’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. The relief was instant. He had worried that even armed with the information that he had, she still wouldn’t accept his help. But he wouldn’t have to convince her.
It was also mildly amusing to think about her working up the nerve to call him.
“I thought you might come around.” He started walking again.
“Oh, did you?” The words were strained.
“Well, I was hoping.” Jon also hoped he sounded apologetic.
She paused for a split second before she took off rambling. “I’ve hit a dead end. I’ve done everything I know to do, but I can’t find a trace on him. He’s using cash, and he bought another car with cash, who knows how long ago. I canvassed salvage yards and came up empty. I searched his house, and he didn’t leave anything behind. He’s smart, Jon, and now … I don’t know what I’m doing.”
His smile fell away, and his heart ached, alarmed that she seemed almost frantic, at least for Josie. He kept up his front though, his armor. “Lucky for you, I’m a terrible listener. Did you think I wasn’t gonna dig around on my own?”
“No, I guess I didn’t really believe that.”
“Smart cookie. Listen, I’m right around the corner, so I can be there in just a couple of minutes. I’ve got something.”
“What?” The excitement in her voice fluffed his ego, and he smiled.
“I called in a favor. I have Rhodes’ new name and social, and I have a good idea where he’s going.”
“Oh my God, where?”
“Washington.”
She paused, then said with more relief than even he felt, “Thank you, Jon.”
“Don’t mention it.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be there in a few. Just sit tight.”
“All right.”