Tamara's eyes locked with mine. “You should have minded your own business.”
Maybe. But even now, with just seconds left before I lost my life, I couldn’t make myself regret it. If I had to do it all over again, I knew I would have done the exact same thing.
But if I could ask for one miracle, though –
“I want to see Paul,” I heard myself whisper foolishly. It didn't seem right that the face of an insane murderer was the last thing I'd see before I died.
Then open your eyes, agapoula mou.
My chest heaved in a sigh at the familiar sound of Mr. Handsome’s voice. That was it, then. I had died, I was in heaven, and an imaginary Paul was my reward.
Strong arms caught me just as the sound of spell bolts violently clashing against each other had my eyes flying open. What in the lair—-
Oh!
Golden hair, chiseled features, and a powerful body sheathed in an immaculate dark suit –
"P-Paul?" I stammered.
"Hello, Blair." But his gaze remained straight ahead, and as I dizzily followed his line of sight, I saw a demented-looking Tamara balanced on her broomstick and her hands moving wildly about in a casting frenzy: one to keep her shield spell up, and another to hurl a barrage of spell bolts towards us.
She put up a heck of a fight, in other words, but it was just as clear that nothing she did would ever be enough to beat off the INTERPOL detective clasping me to his side with one arm around my waist.
“It’s over, Agent Gries.” He advanced towards her at a steady pace, his demeanor terrifyingly calm as he used his one free hand to deflect her spell bolts and fire his own at the same time.
“Never!” Tamara’s hysterical scream rose over the cacophony of blowing winds and rainstorm. “I’ll make him pay—-” A shudder of rage shook her form, and she screamed as she fired another torrent of spell bolts, all of which Paul deflected with a wave of his arm.
Seriously, how strong were these INTERPOL detectives? Were they secret descendants of Hercules? Achilles? Maybe even the biblical Samson?
“I won’t stop until I make him pay——”
Paul suddenly twisted to the side, and I barely managed to hold on to him as he flew – oh my Gaea, where was his broom – us away from Tamara. “What—-”
And then I saw it: a thunderbolt finding its mark as it raced down from the heavens, and even though I knew there was nothing I could do, and that if our positions had been reversed, she probably would have let Zeus’ murderous bolt spear its target –
I could never wish a person dead.
“Tamara, look out!”
But it was too late.
Tamara’s lips parted in a soundless scream of agony as the bolt tore through her body.
Fire claimed her in the next second, and I knew the exact moment she died.
We all knew.
Impossible not to, when the stormy skies vanished at her last breath, and the wind gods fell from the skies, released at last from Zeus’ orders of pillage and destruction.
Apparently, the antidote we were looking for was nothing more than Agent Tamara Gries’ death.
Chapter Thirteen
Why are you doing this? Did Zeus dump you? Is that it?
You bitch!
Uh, no, that would be you, I think?
I’ll kill you! I swear I’ll kill you!
And you’re psychotic, I swear, I absolutely swear you are.
Dike hit the Stop button, and the screen froze just as I fell out of the window. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how not to negotiate with a potentially psychotic opponent.”
I wanted to shrink in my seat as every CSI agent of the department turned to look at me.
“Then again, Agent Vavrin was a huge help in preventing the end of the world so all’s well that ends well. Let’s give her a round of applause.”
The other agents started to clap.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Our division director waved towards the doors, which again flew open under her command. “Dismissed.”
I stood up with the others, but I had only taken a few steps when I heard the Daughter of Justice say coolly, “Except you, Agent Vavrin.”
Brooms and sticks. Was I in trouble?
A week had passed since Agent Tamara Gries’ death, but the mood in headquarters remained somber. Many of us, myself included, remained shell-shocked at the deceased agent’s crimes, the full extent of which had been revealed by a memory post-mortem conducted on her remains.
Zeus’ refusal to make her immortal had been a serious bone of contention between the clandestine lovers, and the thunder god dumping her for another woman had been the last straw. The Craigslist posting had allowed Agent Gries to hire Amanda to poison Zeus, but when the siren had come to collect her money, Tamara had paid her off with a bullet to the temple and buried Amanda in her own backyard.
After that, she had pulled several strings to ensure she was the one Dike would approach to represent CIA in handling Zeus’ case. She had planned to provide misleading evidence from the start, which was why it had angered her greatly when Paul had pulled rank on her and insisted on working only with me.
Tamara had also been the one who shot at Paul, hoping to discourage his interest in the case, and when that didn’t work she had sought to befriend me instead.
As for Zeus, the dosage Tamara had Amanda administer wasn’t lethal or designed to permanently impair him, after all. It was only enough to last for a week, a period of time that Tamara believed was sufficient for the Olympian to lay wreck to most of New England. By the time the poison’s effects wore off, thousands would have long died in Zeus’ hands – the perfect revenge for the god who, despite his many weaknesses, had always loved mankind best.
“Now, Agent Vavrin...”
I automatically straightened in my seat as Dike’s coolly pleasant voice drew me out of my thoughts.
“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”
Tomorrow was a Saturday. We weren’t supposed to have work on Saturday. Or were we? “I, umm—-”
“Cancel it.”
“Absolutely.” I might be some hotshot neophyte in other agents’ eyes now, but Dike would always be Dike, and I’d never be stupid enough to stop being afraid of her.
“I’ll expect you to be here before 0800H,” Dike instructed, “and we’ll depart for Mt. Olympus at 0810H.”
My jaw dropped.
“Zeus wants to meet you.”
My jaw kept dropping.
Dike’s gaze narrowed. “Whatever happens, do not disappoint me.”
I couldn’t answer. My jaw was still doing its best to reach the floor.
“Agent Vavrin!”
Okay, that would work. The Daughter of Justice’s sharp tone had me recovering from my shock, and I said quickly, “Understood, Director.”
“Dismissed.”
I walked out of the conference room in a daze, wondering if I had dreamt the past five minutes. I would be visiting Mt. Olympus tomorrow. Mt. Olympus! It was an immortals-only zone, and it had been so for centuries. How in the world did I end up suddenly being invited to the mythical dwelling of Olympians?
Tristan and Maria were waiting for me by my cubicle, and Maria burst into speech as soon as I collapsed on my seat. “What did Dike tell you?” she asked eagerly. “Did you get a reward? A promotion?”
“I...got invited to Mt. Olympus?”
Maria squealed in delight, loud enough to have other agents glance at us in curiosity, but she paid them no heed. “Oh my Gaea, that’s completely unheard of, Blair,” she exclaimed. “That’s like being invited to the White House or Buckingham Palace! Only it’s a thousand times better!” She peppered me with questions – what did I intend to wear, what did I plan to say, could I take photos...
On and on it went that I had to raise a halting hand even as I couldn’t help laughing. “We still need to work, you know.”
“Let’s talk more about this over dinner tonight, promise?”
&nb
sp; It was impossible to resist Maria when she was smiling like that, and I tossed Tristan a look of shared commiseration. “Do you ever get your way with her?”
“I don’t even try,” was the droll reply.
Even so, Maria’s excitement was infectious, and come lunch break I was in a similarly giddy state and wondering about of all those things she mentioned. What did one wear to Mt. Olympus?
“You look happy,” Lana observed when I joined her at our usual cafeteria table. “Does it have something to do with the fact that Dike asked you to stay behind this morning after your meeting?”
I almost choked on my soda. “Where did you get that?”
Lana rolled her eyes. “Agents thrive on gossip, Blair. You should know that by now.”
“No, actually, I don’t,” I said with a grimace, “but I’ll keep it in mind from now on.”
She looked at me expectantly after feeding herself a forkful of pasta. “Well?”
I bit into my sandwich. “What?”
“Dike? Private conversation? Hello?”
Oh. Right. Lowering my sandwich back to my plate, I whispered the same thing I told Tristan and Maria, and Lana let out a loud gasp.
I let out a low groan as all the agents in the cafeteria turned to us. Not again.
“Sorry.” But Lana’s grin belied her apology, and like Maria’s, her excitement was contagious enough that I couldn’t help grinning back.
“This is just too exciting for words,” Lana said in a rush. “Have you told Paul yet?”
I shook my head.
“Well, you should! I bet he’d be one happy, proud boyfriend—-”
“Lana!” It was stupid, but I couldn’t help turning red at the mere thought of Paul being my boyfriend. “You know it’s not like that between us.”
“Do I?” Lana’s voice was thoughtful. “When I called him that night and told him you were in danger, he was totally frantic.”
“He likes to worry,” I hedged.
“It was more than that. He sounded the way I imagined Tristan would if he found out Maria was in trouble.”
My shoulders moved in an awkward shrug. “He’s my mentor of sorts.”
Lana snorted. “If he’s your mentor, then I’m your long-lost father.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Exactly,” she answered sweetly. “Paul could be a lot of things, but he’s definitely not just a mentor to you.”
“Probably. I don’t know.” Maybe I was being too stubborn, but I simply didn’t want to assume anything. “You know, you never told me why you decided to call him of all people. I mean, why not Dike?”
Lana grimaced. “This is going to sound bad, but I honestly didn’t even trust Dike once I realized that CIA was compromised. So...”
“You went with your gut instinct and called Paul?”
Lana smiled weakly. “When you think about it now...it was a crazy risk, wasn’t it?”
“Crazy or not, it turned out to be the right decision—-” I gave her hand a quick squeeze. “So if you ask me, I’ll keep trusting your instincts.”
“Luck was a factor, too,” Lana acknowledged ruefully. “When you plugged your phone to my computer, it automatically stored your contact list – without that, I wouldn’t have had a clue on how to contact him.” It was Lana’s turn to pause. “You know...he got to headquarters really quickly, don’t you think?”
I could only nod since I had wondered the same thing, too. Unless he had lied about having to go to Mt. Olympus – which I could see no reason why he should have – then the distance between the Olympians’ dwelling and our headquarters wasn’t exactly something you could cover in minutes.
And yet...
“Maybe it’s an INTERPOL thing?” Another memory occurred to me, something equally troubling, and I chewed on my lip. “I never mentioned this in my report, but when he saved me from falling...” I took a deep breath. “He was flying, Lana.”
Her eyes went wide with disbelief.
“And I do mean flying, on his own, without using any broomstick or what not.”
“Did you ask him how—-” The way Lana’s voice trailed off made it seem like she couldn’t even make herself say the words. It was simply that preposterous. Everyone knew that magic had its limits, and for humans to fly was one of them.
“I never got a chance to. I haven’t seen him since that time. He calls me several times a day, though, but I just can’t make myself ask. I don't think...it’s not something you can ask over the phone, you know?”
Several moments of silence passed before Lana shook her head. “Maybe we’re overthinking this.”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe it’s just an INTERPOL thing.”
“You’re right.” Or at least that was what I wanted to think. Because otherwise...I had no idea what these strange, inexplicable things made Paul.
Epilogue
Saturday dawned bright and sunny, and I arrived at SMHS half past seven, having decided that it was better to be extremely early rather than risk being a minute late and making our esteemed division director to wait for me.
Dike was a sight to behold when she arrived, with an intricately designed bronze helmet covering her hair and a resplendent centuries-old suit of armor worn over her tall, graceful figure.
One look at her, and I knew Mt. Olympus was strictly black-tie, Ancient Greece style – which also meant I had made the right choice.
Dike gave my outfit a cursory look, and I held my breath. I had donned a flowing white empire-cut dress with a belt of gold tassels that laid low on my hips and matched the woven pattern of my leather sandals.
“Good choice,” my superior said, and I silently breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Cronos for that.
Dike and I slid into the backseat of a black sedan, and as its engine roared into life, I looked about eagerly, wondering what it would shapeshift into. A winged stallion like Pegasus perhaps? Or maybe a sphinx or—-
The agent behind the wheel stepped on the gas, and the car sped out of the driveway.
Any minute now...
Any moment now...
Any time now...
“What are you looking like that for?” Dike asked blankly.
“I was, umm, trying to guess what this car would change into?”
“Aren’t you old enough to know that Transformers aren’t real?” The Daughter of Justice shook her head in disapproval. “You need to be more discerning between myth and fiction, Agent Vavrin.”
My mouth opened and closed. “I wasn’t – I never – so, this really is just a car?”
The older woman shot me an irritable look. “What else could it be?”
I tried to wrap my head around what she was saying. “Then...it’s possible to drive to Mt. Olympus?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
And so it seemed as ten minutes later the car had sped past a wall of fog and onto a paved road that meandered through woods made breathtaking by its stunningly colorful foliage and drovepast a sparkling brook in which mermaids swam alongside frolicking water nymphs. Finally, the car rolled to a stop in front of massive golden doors, and I knew with every excited beat of my heart that what I was staring at was none other than the doors of Mt. Olympus itself.
“Chin up, Agent Vavrin,” Dike commanded as we stepped out of the car.
“Yes, Director.”
“Also, stop shaking.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Dike glared at me.
“I meant, I’ll never shake again in my entire life.”
“That’s better.” The Daughter of Justice nodded at the guardsmen flanking the entrance, and they slowly pushed the doors open, their muscles straining with every inch that I could only imagine how heavy the doors were. Could it be made of real gold?
A young girl in braids introduced herself as a Muse’s apprentice with a deep curtsy. Dike gave her a nod, so I started to nod as well – until I saw my boss glaring at m
e.
Oops.
I curtsied back to the young girl, and only then did Dike stop looking murderous.
Mt. Olympus’ ballroom was amazing in its vastness, with towering marble pillars that went all the way up until it disappeared in a mass of fluffy clouds. It took me several moments to understand that I was literally looking at clouds, and that the sky actually served as the ballroom’s ceiling.
Very cool, I thought, but what if it rained?
The couple on the throne chuckled. Dike was glaring at me again. And I realized a second too late I had blurted my thought out loud.
I was so dead.
“Come forward, Blair Vavrin.” It was the man on the throne who spoke, tall and powerfully built, with a dramatically handsome face and a long dark beard.
Sad Keannu, I thought yet again, but of course he wasn’t just that. He was Zeus, the god who reigned in Mt. Olympus – and he knew my name.
Zeus! Knew! My! Name!
My knees knocked against each other as I moved forward, stopping only before the edge of the dais. Remembering Dike’s lesson earlier, I made sure to curtsy this time, so deep that I almost lost my balance and toppled over.
When I straightened, the couple on the throne was visibly amused, and Dike looked like she wanted to throttle me.
Okay, not only was I dead, but I was so going to be fired after this.
“We thank you for your aid.” It was the dark-haired woman on the throne who spoke this time, and cast it, but she looked so much like a dead ringer for Charlize Theron that I felt like I had stepped into a movie set, and that would be...what?
Sweet November? The Devil’s Advocate? Or John Wick meets Atomic Blonde?
Clearing my throat, I started to thank the Olympians when I realized one glaring hole in my vocabulary. How did one address Olympians?
“Thea,” I heard Dike cough from behind.
I nearly expired in relief, and smiling nervously at Zeus and Hera, I stammered, “It w-was my honor to serve, theo, thea.”
“How kind you are,” Hera murmured with a smile.
“Indeed,” Zeus agreed, “which is why my wife and I would like to offer you any reward you choose.”
A Season of Gods and Witches Page 9