by LJ Vickery
Anshar and Dagon had decided that George’s Island in Boston Harbor would be the best place for the group of six who had arrived earlier in the day. Although capable of staying on land, the Lauernley preferred to live in caves by the water. Dagon had made sure that salt water would accommodate them as well as the fresh water they were used to.
Since it was February, the tunnels of George’s Island would be empty of the tourists who flocked there during the summer months. The cold dank spaces beneath Fort Warren, vast and cave-like, would afford a comforting atmosphere for the blue crooners of the Rhine Valley.
The entourage had traveled their normal way, by water, and he’d heard that they were no more than streaks of blue light while swimming underwater. The entire thirty-six-hundred-mile trip had taken them only six hours. Unfortunately for them, travel on land was limited to human conveyance, and they were making the trip from Hull Gut to the Blue Hills by car.
Dorian Penmarch, after becoming reacquainted with Addie May and Angie, had retired to his cottage. There was no doubt he was here to help the gods find their Chosen. The future of Lenore and his line depended on it, but Absu had heard the scuttlebutt that the warlock’s main goal was to bring Addie May and Angela back into his life. Absu wasn’t sure how that would be accomplished yet, but it would be interesting to observe.
Due to the various time changes of the participants, Absu had determined that the meal would be served at four o’clock in the afternoon to suit everyone’s needs. For some, it would feel like an early lunch, while others would view it as a late dinner. But with a self-congratulatory pat on the back, he admitted he’d outdone himself on the menu.
He’d picked sea bass as the main course, because everyone, including the nonmeat eaters in the group, all enjoyed fish. He’d topped it with a lemon shallot-butter, and would serve it next to roasted baby red potatoes. Brussels-sprouts, drowned in balsamic vinegar, rounded out the color balance of the meal to be plated up in the kitchen. With the help of the goddesses, it would be misted into place in front of each diner, if all the diners showed up.
Absu took a quick pass through the dining room to have a peek. Gods, goddesses, witches, humans, and one warlock milled about, talking and making short work of the goat cheese dip and rice crackers, the Atlantic-caught shrimp, and the mango-chutney encrusted ribs he’d prepared as hors d’oeuvres. But they were still waiting on Nergal, Ereshkigal, and the Lauernley contingency. Absu ground his teeth. Didn’t they know how difficult it was trying to hold dinner at just the right amount of done?
Back in the kitchen, Enten contacted him by head. The king and queen have popped in with a “sorry we’re late.”
Absu would forgive them. Eresh, newly pregnant, never knew when she’d be nauseous or ravenous.
It’s a ravenous day, Enten continued the updates. She headed straight for the ribs, grabbed the entire platter, and has plunked down in a chair with them in front of her.
Absu popped in again to have a look.
“Absu. Ribs. Yummy.” She gave him a thumbs-up without relenting in her attack on the meat. Absu bowed his head, then stood off to the side, watching to see how everything else was going. He noticed Dorian sidling up behind Nergal.
“King Nergal,” the warlock purred, with an underlying bite to his words that Absu couldn’t mistake. “So happy to see you again.”
“The pleasure is mine, Penmarch. Not,” Absu heard the king mutter under his breath. “You and your confounded Council of Like Beings can go stick your welcomes up your collective asses.” Clearly, Nergal was not about to make nice with the man, but instead stalked away seeking the company of Marduk, while Dorian looked smug and sat down next to the queen.
“Don’t mind him.” She waved a bone airily around with one hand, while simultaneously picking up another. “You know how he hates to be thwarted.” She gave the warlock an impish grin. “Secretly, the kindred souls argument was one of my favorite of all time.”
Ereshkigal spoke of a long-standing quarrel over who should have jurisdiction over a cross-being crime. Nergal was of the mind that anything involving at least one god should be solved by a board of gods. Dorian felt that the Council of Like Beings should handle those affairs. The warlock’s argument had won the vote, and so been made into law.
“Thank you, lovely queen. I wish your husband had half your charm and diplomacy.”
“Scootch a little closer,” she smirked. “It will put a little twist in my king’s tail if he thinks we’re dining together. I adore him when he’s out of sorts.”
“I’d heard the good news that you were back together and expecting a new addition in the latter part of the year.” Dorian smiled.
“A Halloween due date, if we’re lucky,” Ereshkigal gushed. She pointed to the shrimp, clearly indicating she wanted one. Dorian obliged.
“Thanks.” She smacked her lips. “I should be as big as a house by that time.”
Absu found it amusing how everyone loved Ereshkigal, and how angry Nergal got when she was shown favor.
His thoughts were interrupted as the doors flew open with a flourish. Anshar stood to one side and Dagon to the other, while the Lauernley were announced.
“His Royal Highness King Waylon Blau, and entourage,” Anshar giddily declared. “Which, in case the implications haven’t hit your brains yet, makes my soon-to-be-son a prince, just like baby Girin.”
“Daughter. Princess,” Lenore automatically corrected Anshar, but her mouth hung open as she digested the royalty information. “Wait. When did this happen?” She hadn’t been privy to Marduk’s previous announcement.
Last they all knew, Lenore’s great-granddad had been high up in the Lauernley ranks as the right hand to the king of the Rhine.
King Waylon shrugged. “The previous king abdicated last month, citing fatigue and a wish to pursue his own interests. Because he was without progeny, he handed his crown to me.”
The handsome, muscular, and radiantly blue male looked a little bemused as he recounted his ascendancy, but found the wherewithal to wink at his daughter, Addie May.
Unlike with Dorian, Absu knew that Angie had shared pictures of his aging daughter with Waylon on the Internet, and knew what she looked like.
“Nothing to say to your father after all these years, Princess Addie?” he teased, holding out one hand in her direction.
Again, Absu had heard the story. The last time the pair had seen each other, Addie had been three.
She seemed unable to move toward her father, but Dorian had no such problems. He quickly left his position by Marduk, stood behind his wife, and placed a calming hand to her back. Her feet then skimmed forward with Dorian’s help. Addie remained mute.
“Father-in-law,” Dorian gave a slight bow of his head and filled in the silence. “It is good to see you after all these years.”
That was news to Absu. Perhaps they had met over council business.
“And you, Dorian. I understood you were to be here. It’s about time, don’t you think?”
“As if I had a choice.” Dorian’s mouth curled up on one side.
Waylon nodded in understanding, but it looked like he was the only one to comprehend Dorian’s cryptic words. “Just so,” he agreed. “But all will be well now,” the king of the Rhine assured. He next turned to his daughter, who had yet to speak. “No welcome yet for me, daughter?”
A torrent of tears tracked down both of Addie’s cheeks, as if she’d been holding the flood back for years. Absu’s heart broke for the lovely woman. If she wasn’t a witch, he would have worried. The twin shock of seeing her husband, and then her father again after so many decades, probably would have killed her. As it was, it looked like she was having trouble breathing.
“Father,” she bent to one knee in supplication, not meeting his eyes. “It makes an old woman glad to finally see you. You probably don’t know it, but from the time you left, you were always given a special place in my life. Mother showed me pictures, told me stories, and never let me forge
t who you were. And she loved you right up until the moment she died.”
Waylon looked shaken, but strode forward and raised Addie from the floor, placing his arms around her. The two shed new tears together.
The tension was broken when smiles finally appeared between them, and everyone breathed a sigh of contentment and returned to socializing.
Absu and the goddesses served the meal. It was cooked to perfection, although everyone continued to chide him on how he was able to present such a perfect blend of flavors while not being able to taste his own creations. It was a trade secret, but one he’d never have to worry about again, as soon as the Charlie situation was settled.
Absu had dessert on the table by five o’clock, a stunning steamed blueberry pudding with lemon glaze that complemented the meal perfectly. After second servings for many, the bowls were scraped clean. There would be no leftovers for late-night snacking.
Absu had just left his ghostly seat to clear the dishes when Marduk’s phone rang. Everyone exchanged glances. The room was as silent as a midnight woods. There were very few of their cohorts missing, so whoever was calling was a mystery. Marduk answered. “Hello?”
His face took on an ominous cast. “Give me the details,” he barked. “The timing.” Absu’s gut clenched. He’d run through the possibilities. It was either Jake with the Abelard’s mother, or it was Ken calling about Charlie. Please let it not be the latter.
“We’ll have people there in half an hour.”
Absu groaned. Virginia was ten minutes, LA was thirty. This was about Charlie. He waited for Marduk to hang up, standing perfectly still and steeling himself for the bad news.
“Charlie and Maity are missing,” the thunder god growled.
Absu unacquired the stack of dessert plates he was holding. He barely heard them smash on the floor before he bolted for the West Coast.
Chapter Twenty
Jake Marsthall. Anna’s mind couldn’t stop going back to the gorgeous agent. Ridiculously handsome and the first man she’d ever met who understood who and what she was. Was that why she found him so attractive? She’d been so careful since the children’s father. Dates had been few and far between, and sex had been nonexistent. Was she lowering her barriers due to circumstances or because of Jake himself?
He’d left her for the day to procure an ID for her that would allow her to board a plane, and so she could “tidy up” her own loose ends. Apparently, her idea of the things that needed tidying weren’t the same as his. Jake assumed she’d pack all of her belongings―meager though they were―and use the gods’ money to either store or ship everything north. She’d sever ties with her clients and then be free to fly out in the morning.
But Anna hadn’t spent her years being independent for nothing. She was not taking her welcome in the Blue Hills at face value. Her children and their immortal friends might be curious, but what if they resented her? Or Anna might not feel comfortable living in the world of gods. So many things could go very wrong with the hearts-and-flowers reunion she’d been assured of by Jake. Better to do things her own way, as she’d been doing for so long.
Anna hoofed it to the bank down the street. She didn’t have a car. She didn’t need one. All of her cleaning clients were in the large apartment complex where she lived. Most were as poor as she, but her rates were low, as long as they paid in cash. And like her, they all worked long hours. So to a person, they were exhausted by days end and thankful to come home to a clean apartment.
She’d been keeping her money in a safe deposit box, not wanting to open an actual bank account for fear of her name getting into the system. Ha-ha. Fat lot of good that had done her. Seems like she’d been pretty easy to find.
Anna emptied the box of the few thousand dollars she’d saved, and locked it back up. She wouldn’t turn in her key yet. You never know. She might need it again.
The next stop was her landlord’s office. She’d just paid February’s rent, but dug deep and gave him the cash for March so he’d hold it for her should she return. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He was strictly a collect-the-rent and keep-his-nose-out-of-other-people’s-business kind of guy. It suited him and her as well.
Anna’s only regret was leaving her clients. She had worked hard to build up her cleaning business and a reputation as someone who could be trusted. She would miss them, and they would probably miss her. Anna was good at what she did, and they all appreciated it.
She used her keys to enter each and every one of the apartments she took care of, where she penned a note explaining that a family emergency―which it sort of was―had taken her away. Anna assured them she’d be in touch within a few days to let them know if and when she’d be back. She placed their keys by the notes and hoped they would all understand.
Anna had made plans for the afternoon, and was actually looking forward to it. She was going shopping. She owned exactly two pairs of worn jeans, and three T-shirts. Her utilitarian underwear had seen better days, and her socks all had holes. She’d catch the bus to the mall in Manassas and hit the cheap, big box store for the small stuff. Then it wasn’t too much of a walk from there to the thrift shop, where she’d pick up some delicately used pants and shirts. Maybe she’d even find a nice pair of boots. Her mind wandered back to her time in Maine and Vermont. New England could be very snowy this time of year.
****
At the end of the day, she caught the bus home, her arms laden with used clothing that would need washing, and nice, new white―not yellowed with age―cotton undies, then walked the rest of the way to her apartment. She hadn’t shopped in so long, she’d forgotten how tiring it could be. Once inside her small living room, she gratefully removed her canvas sneakers with a relieved sigh.
Methodically, she removed all the tags from her purchases, and before she pooped out, made her way barefoot to the first-floor laundry. She took with her a small stack of new magazines―which over the years had become her only indulgence―to wait out the spin cycles.
It was late in the day, and one by one, clients of hers filtered in to take care of their own washing.
“I hope everything’s all right?” Her neighbor from two doors down filled his machines before coming over to sit opposite Anna. “If you need anything…”
Anna was touched. Jim was a single dad, working two jobs and trying to raise his son. Anna often did extra for him, like baking a batch of cookies. Or using her fix-it talents to put a new float in a running toilet. He was financially strapped with daycare costs and health insurance premiums. That he would offer her help was humbling.
“Thanks, Jim. I’ll be fine.” She chewed on her nail. She sensed he wanted the story, but there was no way she could tell him what was going on.
They were soon joined by three more of Anna’s patrons. One, a woman in her seventies―still cashiering at a local drugstore where she’d worked for twenty years―was still not making much more than minimum wage. She spent all day, every day on her feet, and had no energy left for chores when she got home. She could only afford the basics, but again, Anna often made sure the lady came home to freshly washed draperies or a loaf of homemade bread. The extras she provided, Anna now knew, were possible because of her god-like speed and endurance. She’d never before understood how she could accomplish so much in so little time, but now she did, and was happy it had made a small difference to the people who employed her.
A married couple came in while Anna was folding her clothes. They were hard working, never at home, mid-fifties empty-nesters. Having spent all their money putting two ungrateful children through college, they were financially strapped and currently trying to keep up with exorbitant nursing home bills for the woman’s aged mother. To make matters worse, the husband had obsessive compulsive disorder, and couldn’t stand to have a thing out of place in their apartment. Anna, with her infallible memory, had been the only one they’d ever trusted to clean. Every item, down to the smallest scrap of paper, was always put back exactly where it had been befor
e dusting or vacuuming.
These people would miss her, along with a dozen more with similar stories. It hurt to leave them, but she’d likely be back.
After hugs all around and promises to stay in touch, Anna bundled up her new clothes and walked back to her apartment. She fit her key in the lock, but the doorknob turned without it. Shit. Had someone broken in? She eased the door open slowly.
“Anna?”
The breath she held whooshed out of her lungs. It was Jake.
“Dammit. You scared the living crap out of me.” She dumped her laundry on the countertop, where she’d cut off tags earlier, and advanced a few steps into the living room.
“When you didn’t answer your phone, I figured maybe you’d taken off.” Jake shrugged. “So I broke in.”
If Anna didn’t know better, she’d say he looked a little shaken, but he quickly covered whatever small bit of emotion she’d seen with bluster. “And what about this place? You were supposed to be packing.” He swept an arm around the room that was exactly as he’d left it. “You had the whole day.”
“No. I didn’t,” she explained patiently. “I had to get up extra early and take care of three apartments before going to the bank. Then I had to leave notes for all my people.”
Was Jake aware that she didn’t say “give notice?”
“After that,” she turned her head as if it pained her to admit it, “I went shopping.”
She knew Jake had gone through her closets and drawers, and was aware of her lack of attire. He suddenly looked pissed off at himself.
“Dammit. I should have figured you might need to supplement your wardrobe. How much did the new clothes set you back?” he asked, delving into his pocket. “None of your kids would want you to break the bank for them. I’ve been given funds to take care of your expenses.”