Prissy blond boy with clipboard called the production meeting to order before I could be formally introduced, and I re-found Nick and Jesus and sat with them to listen to an hour about how we shouldn’t look right at the camera, interact with the stars, mug for shots, wear patterns that would strobe on film, drink too much, yada yada, etcetera so forth.
Even so, the room was buzzing with excitement when it was all over. The coffee, tea, fruit and cookies on the food service table at the back of the room gave people an excuse to linger and compare notes on what they’d wear and who might be willing to do who else’s hair or lend a hand on makeup.
Althea and Junessa were quick to offer miracle makeovers, though I had no idea when they’d find time to provide them between the rehearsal, dinner and eleven a.m. makeup call. I wondered if they could write off the wedding as an Eterné business expense. I’d bet they’d make a small fortune among the guests.
“I’ll catch up with you,” I told Nick as we left.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to check in on Apollo and see if he’s got a list for me yet of potential enemies. Plus, I want to see what he might know about the men in black.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said, putting a hand to my lower back to escort me.
I panicked. “No,” I said, and then thought furiously about what excuse to offer, since I couldn’t tell Nick about needing my ambrosia fix.
“I mean, yes, that would be great. But I have a better use for you.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked suggestively.
“Interviewing Serena.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t say ‘oh’ like it’s some hardship. I’m sure she’s recovered from her dead faint by now. But no seducing her secrets out of her.”
“What if she starts it?” he teased.
I hoped he was teasing, anyway.
“I’ll leave that up to you. Just know that while I’m currently unarmed, I’m still dangerous.”
“Aw, jealousy, the sincerest form of flattery. I’ll try not to be too irresistible.”
“Too late,” I told him. I stood on the balls of my feet to give him a kiss. Then I called Apollo to find out where he was and if he could tell us where Serena might be, but as soon as the call connected, I felt a zing of forewarning streak through my body and instead of “Hello,” I heard, “—answer that!” in a sharp female voice. I was pretty sure what had come before was the command, “Don’t.”
“I sent it to voicemail,” Apollo said on the other end of the phone line.
“Liar. Hand it over.”
I didn’t know the other voice, but she didn’t sound friendly, and my sixth sense sent me running for the stairs, once again ignoring the perfectly good elevator. Just recently, my precognition had developed its own GPS, and when I hit the top floor of the hotel, I looked left and right, and raced in the direction that made my heart pound. Nick pounded along behind me.
Just as we hit the door to Apollo’s room, we heard, “Well then, I’ll scream.” It was the same voice I’d heard on the phone. I had no idea what was going on, but I was going to find out.
“Hotel Security,” I called through the door. “Open up.”
“Your choice,” the woman inside said, too quietly to be intended for my ears, which meant whatever happened next would be up to Apollo.
“Mr. Demas, are you all right in there?” I called.
I reached for the door handle, even though I knew that it wouldn’t budge. I hated always being right.
“Help me!” the girl inside suddenly screamed. “He’s a beast!”
I planted one foot on the floor and lashed out with my other, like I’d learned in kickboxing class. The door didn’t give, but my leg did, pain arcing up like a lightning strike from my heel to my hip. I staggered back, into the far wall, using it to hold me up. Nick checked to see if I was okay and then took a running start at the door himself. As he struck, it seemed to buck on its hinges, splintering around them. He bounced back from the blow and took another shot at the door. This time it gave way, and Nick burst into the room. I pushed myself off the wall and staggered through behind him.
In the center of it, between a bed and a desk the size of an old mainframe computer stood a nearly naked girl, her dress torn and fire in her eyes. I thought she was aiming for fear, but what I saw there was triumph. She launched herself into Nick’s arms, sobbing and ranting about how Apollo had attacked her, while I looked from the girl to Nick to Apollo with shock written all over my face.
“Dare I ask what happened?” I said to Apollo, who watched the girl like she was a viper who might suddenly strike.
“Nothing, I swear to you! She did that to herself. Well, first she tried to seduce me for a part in the movie. When that didn’t work, she tore her dress and said she’d cry rape if I didn’t go along with her.”
The sobbing had quieted significantly, I noticed, while the girl listened for what Apollo would say.
“Liar,” she yelled, turning on him, but staying within the protection of Nick’s arms. She raised tearful eyes to me, squeezing out a drop of moisture. “He saw me in the hotel and said I’d be just perfect for a part in his film. I didn’t know I’d be auditioning in his bed. When I refused, he went crazy. He tore my dress and he…he…he would have…if you hadn’t come along…”
Disgust made me want to backhand her, but that would only give her a mark that might help with her story. With all the actual abuse that went on in the world, the thought of someone using a false accusation to get ahead made me more than sick. It made me mad. And I knew it was false. Apollo might not have the best reputation in the world, but if his condition didn’t make assault highly unlikely, what I’d overheard of their conversation certainly did.
“Get out,” I said to her.
She looked utterly dumbfounded. I was a woman. I should believe her. She turned watery eyes to Nick. I had to admit, she was quite the actress. “Please, you have to believe me. You have to help. What if he does it again and you’re not here to stop him?”
Nick took this one. “I don’t know the penalty here for filing a false police report, but in the States there’s jail time.”
Her eyes got really wide. “But, I’m telling the truth.”
“Uh huh.”
“Tell them,” she said, appealing to, of all people, Apollo himself. “I’ll drop the whole thing, if you’ll just—”
“No,” he said.
“Freeze,” I said, not prepared to take any more.
She froze, her mouth opened in mid-protest.
I looked from the girl in her ripped dress—sleek chestnut hair straightened to within an inch of its life falling in a shining curtain down to her waist, not at all mussed as if there’d been a struggle over her virtue—to Apollo—looking a lot less spooked now.
“I swear, I never touched her,” he said again.
I believed him. But still, she could cause trouble if she really wanted to. “I’m not sure the press will care. It’d be juicy enough to hurt you and the film Uncle Hector’s so invested in.”
Nick shook his head at me. “You can’t just go around freezing people.”
“What would you suggest?” I asked.
Because freezing her had been the most civil of my thoughts. The ease with which we could hide her body being the least. Not that I’d been serious about that idea.
“Sadly,” said Apollo, “this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. But last time was back in the States, and I was, uh, with someone already when the girl broke in.”
I rolled my eyes.
“We’re calling hotel security,” Nick cut in, offering that suggestion I’d asked for. “Or the police.”
Apollo and I exchanged a glance. That would be the by-the-book way to play it. It was also a likely path to accusations and tabloid headlines. We’d both been there and done that.
“Or I could switch clothes with the girl and we could put her out into the hallway,” I suggeste
d.
Nick’s eyes narrowed at me, and I didn’t think it was just because of the disparity in our sizes. My clothes would likely swim on the girl. “If you strip her down, that’s assault.”
I sighed. I could see his point, even if I didn’t like it.
“Serena could cover for you,” I told Apollo. “You’re trying to bulk up your ‘romance’ to promote your film, right? Would she say she was with you when crazy-girl broke in?”
Nick threw his hands into the air and paced to the phone over on the desk. “You will not suborn perjury,” he said, reaching for the receiver.
I turned on him. “Oh, like you told Internal Affairs that Detective Lau flew off on the back of a dragon? Or that Zeus and Poseidon were ancient Greek gods?”
His tension didn’t ease. “I left things out. I didn’t lie,” he said. “And you,” he accused Apollo, “are awfully blasé about this whole thing.”
Apollo looked as though he tried to grimace and couldn’t. “I feel like I’ve had Botox all over my body. I can barely move. My heart is struggling to beat. Look for me tomorrow and you may find me a grave man.”
My heart sank. It was a bad thing when an actor began quoting Shakespearean soliloquies. This one hadn’t turned out so well for Mercutio.
Crazy-girl twitched, and I demanded again that she freeze. One problem at a time.
“So what do we do?” I repeated.
“I’ll go have a talk with hotel security,” Nick announced, brooking no argument. “They need to know they have a breech in any case. I’ll tell them what we overheard and what we saw, and we’ll get this all worked out. You two…” He glared at each of us in turn. I felt like I was back in L.A., facing him across an interrogation table, back when we were more adversaries than anything. It hurt. “Try not to conspire while I’m gone.”
He about-faced and left, sucking much of the air out of the room with him.
Apollo and I looked at each other. He was…less than he had been without his typical glint and smirk to draw you in. His eyes had lost their sparkle. His mouth was set.
“I wish there was something I could do for you,” I said, meaning it wholeheartedly.
“I wish you could too. I guess this would be the time to mention you might have a point about Serena. Apparently, she’s already campaigning to have me replaced.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said, but if this petrification keeps up, I don’t see that they’ll have any choice but to find somebody new. It makes me wonder if she knows something we don’t about my chances of recovery.”
“So she knows your paralysis isn’t limited to…” My gaze dropped somewhere south of the border.
“It’s starting to become obvious.”
I hadn’t liked Serena from the start. It was probably terribly unprofessional of me to feel a little leap of joy at the idea of collaring her for the crimes against Apollo.
“I was planning to have Nick interview her. In the meantime—”
“Ambrosia?” he asked.
“How can you tell?”
“You’re shaking.”
I looked down at my hands. I hadn’t even noticed. Not good. Seriously not good. I wondered if Nick…of course he had. He was a detective. He noticed everything. Crud cakes.
“Do you have any with you, and would it help your situation?” I asked.
“No and no. Gods don’t need ambrosia to heal—not from anything natural. As for the unnatural, we can’t undo what another power has done…not unless it’s in our wheelhouse. In other words, Zeus could dispel a storm someone else raised, but he couldn’t return to water what Dionysus had made into wine. Make sense?”
“Sure, clear as mud. I think I need some kind of course in remedial mythology. You say ‘another power’. So it wouldn’t take a god to do this then?”
“Circe could have done it. Or some other enchantress. A few others. No, it wouldn’t take a god.”
“Gah, this just keeps getting better and better. Anything else I need to know? Any other potential players in this drama? Nymphs…banshees…Big Foot?”
“Nymphs, maybe. I’ve, uh, had run-ins with a few of them.” And by that, he meant liaisons, not all of which would have ended well. “Sirens are water divinities, so they’d be loyal to Poseidon. Can’t rule them out. Banshees are second cousins to the sirens, but they only predict the deaths others cause. As for Big Foot, you’ve got me. Maybe one of the giants still roaming the Earth?”
“Really?” I asked, momentarily sidetracked. “Whatever. I’ll talk to Serena, but in case we’re barking up the wrong tree—” Apollo gave me a dirty look, “—I need a list of every divinity you’ve pissed off in the last millennium. I can run them past Yiayia for last known whereabouts and find out who’s in the area.”
“Done,” he said.
“And the ambrosia—”
“Ask Hermes.”
“Hermes?”
He stared. “You haven’t figured it out? Tori, Hermes runs a worldwide messenger service. The only one as far as the ancients are concerned. Anything imported or exported he’s got a piece of the action.”
“So the Back to Earth movement—you think he knew about their secret ingredient?” We’d busted the Back to Earth cult just months ago. It had been run by Dionysus…the Dionysus. He’d not only resurrected his fertility cult, but was lacing the food of his adherents with a special additive, trying to turn his own followers into superhumans, essentially his own Latter-Day Olympians. The problem was, not all survived the transformation. He’d been getting ready to distribute Back to Earth produce on a national level.
“I can’t say what he knew about their end game, but their supplies…yeah, he’d have been involved.”
I seethed. I could feel the steam building in my gut, getting ready to burst forth and sear everything in its path. Hermes. That dirty, rotten, sleazy, conniving bastard.
“How much can she hear?” Apollo asked suddenly, nodding toward the frozen floozy in our midst.
“Huh?” It was so far off my train of thought that it took me a second to process. Then I knew fear.
“I’ve—uh—never tested it.” I knew there was disorientation after the freezing, but how much would she have heard and understood? “It’s not like anyone would believe what she had to say,” I told him, in a whisper now. “I mean, raving about gods and banshees.”
“They might. Some do believe that sort of thing. Otherwise we’d all have long since faded away.”
There was a knock at the broken door, which seemed to startle the girl out of her paralysis, which was a good thing, because hotel security didn’t wait to be invited before sauntering in.
The girl reeled and looked about frantically. She spotted the man in the suit coming through the doorway and launched herself at him. “These people are crazy!” She started. “Please, you have to listen!”
The whites shone all around her eyes, and she looked like a deer in headlights. The security man grabbed her hands as they reached for his shoulders, or maybe his neck, to cling to him. He took them gently but firmly in his hands and looked her in the eyes. “Why don’t you come to my office and tell me all about it?”
I sensed the steel under the suggestion, but she seemed to feel that she was getting somewhere and sagged with relief.
Security guy looked over her head at the rest of us. “I’ll want your statements as well. Later.”
We all nodded back solemnly. The girl didn’t have a leg to stand on, but the sick feeling inside my gut said that wouldn’t stop her. “You need a keeper,” I told Apollo when they left. Only as the words came out of my mouth did I realize I was echoing Jesus.
“Are you volunteering?” Apollo asked.
Nick growled.
“There’s not enough money in the world,” I told him. Ambrosia? Apparently that was another story.
“Nick, why don’t you talk to Serena, like we planned. Also ask her about trying to get Apollo replaced on the film. Apollo, you get work
ing on that list. I have to see a man about a—” drug habit “—suspect.” And so it began…the lies, the slipping out on my own. No, I didn’t have a problem. But apparently it had me.
“Who died and made you boss?” Nick asked.
“No one, yet. I’d like to keep it that way,” I answered.
“Oh the drama. I think you might have missed your calling,” Apollo said helpfully.
I gave him the stink-eye. “Hey, this is your drama. I’m just along for the ride. Everyone has their assignments. We’ll reconvene later.”
“It’ll have to be a lot later,” Apollo said. “Sounds like I’ll have to talk with security, and then I have to get into makeup. We’re doing some of the sunset shots tonight. The conditions are supposed to be perfect. With any luck, the half lighting will hide my…condition.”
“You get gorgeous,” Nick said. “Don’t worry, we’ll do all the heavy lifting.”
I rolled my eyes. The testosterone levels were starting to get cloying.
I pushed Nick out ahead of me, but thought of something just as we were leaving and turned back.
“Have you noticed any priestly types hanging around, all dressed in black, none-too-subtle?”
Apollo looked surprised. “You mean like Greek Orthodox priests?” Because they too wore the black cassocks.
“Not exactly. Kind of hermity looking, really, like they might only come to civilization now and then for supplies?”
He had his thinking face on, eyes up and to the left, as if he were visibly reviewing his mental files. “I don’t know about the various sects anymore. Back when our sanctuaries were held sacred, each god and goddess had their acolytes. Now…the men in black could be anybody.”
“Well, keep an eye out. Nick and I were followed today.”
“I will. And, Tori, thank you.”
I blinked. “Just evening the score.”
“Still.”
“You’re welcome,” Nick called from the doorway, a reminder that he hadn’t been thanked—for his help or the sidelining of his girlfriend.
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