by Devon Monk
My phone buzzed. I checked the messages. A text from Rossi said: you’re welcome and was followed by three bat emojis and a cow.
“What did Rossi do?” I asked Jean.
She shook her head. “Other than have a game night without inviting me?”
“You’re as bad as Crow.”
She grinned. “I heard you picked a date,” she said. “Good job.”
“Is Ryder texting you behind my back?”
“Maybe.”
“Jean.”
“He’s going to be my brother-in-law. A little friendly gossip session now and then only makes our relationship stronger.”
I pushed her knee hard enough, she had to plant her foot to keep from falling off my desk.
“Go sit in a chair,” I groused.
She laughed and got off the desk, choosing to stand instead.
The door opened. Bathin strode in, carrying a black-wrapped bundle about the size of an ax and sword.
“Is Myra here?”
“Yep. Those the weapons?”
“Yes. The cloaking cloth should make it easier to handle them.”
“Can I see?” Jean asked.
Bathin shot me a quick look.
“Please?” she begged. “C’mon, Delaney. Let me see the shinies.”
“Go ahead,” I said. “She’ll bug me forever if you don’t.”
Bathin placed the bundle on the counter and flipped back the cloth.
“Holy shit, those are gorgeous,” Jean said. “And look at you all Conan the Barbarian in those tight jeans and T-shirt. If I weren’t dating someone, I might chat you up.”
Bathin gave her a killer smile and shifted his stance. “You like?”
“Oh, gods. You’re posing,” I said.
He flexed his arms, making his biceps pop. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hey, handsome,” Myra said, leading Tish-me into the room. She’d left Tish in handcuffs, which was prudent. “Who are you posing for?”
“You, babe,” he said. “Only you.”
Jean cooed and fluttered her eyelashes at him and Myra. Myra guided Tish to sit in front of my desk. Tish’s eyes, well, mine, were wide and their face was slack with awe.
“My Prince?” Tish breathed. “I am not worthy?” Tish bent forward, gaze on the floor.
“Tish,” Bathin said, as he rewrapped the weapons. “I hear you’ve been working with my brother.”
“Yes, my Prince?”
I raised an eyebrow. That was more than I’d been able to get out of them.
“Lift your head, Tish.” Bathin tucked the weapons under his arm again. “You are going to answer the Reed sisters’ questions now.”
“Yes, my Prince?”
“You will tell them the truth.”
Tish hesitated.
“Tish. That was not a request,” Bathin said.
I knew Bathin. He rarely took this stance, this…command.
Bathin was a prince of hell: royalty. It was impossible to miss the power behind his words.
“I will gift you with a skin,” Bathin said.
Tish’s eyes flew up to meet Bathin’s gaze.
“Truly, my Prince?”
“If you answer the Reed sisters truthfully.”
Tish swallowed. “I will? Yes? I will?”
“Good.”
Bathin handed the bundle to Myra. “They’re heavy,” he noted before letting go of the full weight of the weapons.
She braced for it, and nodded. “No kidding. You okay?” she asked him quietly.
“Wholly.” He cupped the side of her face. She leaned into his palm, closing her eyes. It was just a moment, a second or two, then she eased away and carried the bundle to the big duffle by her desk.
“Now for your gift, Tish,” Bathin moved around the counter and stopped next to the ghoul. “Open your mouth.”
Tish did so. Bathin placed a small pebble on their tongue. “Swallow.”
Tish did that too. Bathin pressed his fingertips on Tish’s forehead. “Become,” he intoned.
Tish shivered and was no longer me. Tish was now a young person, maybe fifteen? Brown hair long enough they had to tuck it behind their ears but it still stuck up a little.
Tish’s eyes were soft brown, their skin several shades darker than my own fish-belly white complexion. Their chin cut a hard straight line and angled up to a killer jawline, their lips wide and rosy.
This Tish was of medium build, and if I were to think of them as an athlete, I would place them in wrestling or gymnastics.
“Is it comfortable?” Bathin asked.
Tish nodded and nodded, the glisten of unshed tears in their eyes.
“Good. Now do not disappoint me, or I will take what I have given.”
Tish swallowed, then turned their attention to me. “I will answer your questions now?”
“All right. Here’s the first one. Are you hungry?”
Tish’s short dark eyebrows ticked up.
“Truth,” Bathin reminded.
“Yes?”
Myra put a peanut butter and jam sandwich on the flattened brown paper bag in front of them.
They threw a quick look at Bathin, then lifted the sandwich and shoved half of it into their mouth in one go.
“Dang, dude,” Jean said, “That’s pretty impressive. Oh, and when I say “dude” I’m using it as a term of non-gender affection.”
Tish chewed twice, smiled, then shoved the other half sandwich after the first. Two more chews and that was that.
“Are you working for Goap?” I asked.
“I was?”
“Did you deliver the god weapons?”
Tish nodded. “I did?”
“Did you deliver the Queen’s ring?”
“Yes?” Here they glanced up at Bathin again. I could see the trepidation on their face.
“Did you steal the god weapons?” I asked.
“I…helped? I held? I put the boxes in the right places?”
Apparently ghouls were pretty round about in their speech patterns.
The door opened again. Odin, Frigg, and Crow strolled in. “How’s it going?” Crow asked. “Got any news to share?”
Tish bit their bottom lip and kept their eyes resolutely on me.
“Why did you all decide to drop by?” I asked.
Odin shrugged those massive shoulders of his. “Crow told us you found the ghoul. Tish, is that right?”
Tish held still, only the sweat that had broken out to cover their forehead indicating they had heard.
“That’s right,” I said. “Tish is being very helpful right now.”
“Sounds good,” Frigg said. “Carry on.”
They all stood in the small lobby, hands in pockets or on hips, waiting. It would be intimidating if you didn’t know they were gods. It certainly must have been intimidating to Tish who knew they were gods.
“Tell us how you helped.” Myra touched Tish’s shoulder to bring their focus back to us.
“Prince Goap called upon my service? To walk where he told me, stand where he told me, take what he told me?”
“Did that involve you walking into god realms?” I asked.
Tish nodded.
“And how did you do that?” I asked.
“Did Goap have a spell?” Jean asked. “A paper with a magic spell he used to get you into the god realms and get you out?” She wiggled her fingers like she was doing magic.
Tish’s shoulders drooped. They nodded again.
My heartbeat picked up the pace. Goap had lied. He had used the page to pick the godly locks.
“I am not alive? Dead?” Tish mumbled. “The spell allows no living or unliving to cross into their realm? Me? I am not dead or alive, am I?”
Crow swore, then chuckled.
“Smooth,” Frigg said.
“How did you miss that loophole?” Odin demanded, smacking Crow on the back of the head.
“It’s been awhile,” Crow protested. “I bet neither of you remember
the exact wording of your spells.”
I looked over at them. They were both frowning.
Terrific. But that wasn’t a problem we could tackle right now.
“Do you have the spell?” I asked.
Tish shook their head.
“Do you know where it is?” Myra asked.
A pause, then Tish nodded.
Jean exhaled, and her breath smelled like strawberry. “Wow, dude. That’s great. That’s really great. Do you have it with you?”
Again the head shake.
“Where is it?” I asked.
“Buried? In the flowers and birds?”
I looked over at Myra. “There’s a lot of flowers in town. A lot of birds.”
“Penguins?” Tish asked.
“You buried it in Mrs. Yate’s yard with her penguin?” I asked.
Tish tipped their head toward Crow. “Penguin and flowers maybe?”
Crow groaned. “You have got to be kidding me. You? You were the one who broke my penguin statue? You buried the spell I’ve been looking for for centuries in my flower box? Holy shit that is ballsy. And brilliant. Respect.”
Tish offered a very small smile.
“We need to put that in the vault, pronto,” Myra said.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Crow said, “I’m going to go dig up an old spell.”
“Not without me.” Myra tugged the duffle up and settled the strap on her shoulder.
Crow was already out the door, and Odin followed. Frigg tapped the counter with her knuckles. “I’ll keep an eye on them. Make sure Crow actually hands it over.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Good luck.”
She left with a quick wave over her shoulder.
“Okay, now what are we going to do with you?”
Tish gave me the same little smile. “Keep me?”
“That’s complicated. No, don’t get all mopey looking. You came here because a demon wanted you to deliver stolen items. That’s a lot to deal with. The gods could charge you with theft. They’d be legally in the right to do so.
“And I think you knew exactly what you were doing—no, wait for me to finish—but you were also doing what you were ordered to do by your prince.”
Tish bit their lip and nodded.
“You’ve let demons into town before,” Bathin noted mildly, leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in his back pockets. “Demons are a lot more conniving and dangerous than ghouls.”
“Demons sign a contract agreeing not to break the laws.”
“Tish can sign the contract.”
“Tish isn’t a demon. There’s a reason we make demons sign a contract. Demons are very contract motivated. I don’t think that’s the same for ghouls.”
Bathin hummed in agreement.
My phone buzzed, and I looked at the screen. A text from Ryder.
All good
I sent him a thumb’s up icon, even though I wasn’t sure exactly what good he was talking about.
“If someone hosted Tish, maybe,” Jean suggested. “Take them under their wing and show them the ropes.”
“It would have to be someone with strong boundaries and communication skills,” I said, thinking through all the people in town.
The thing I wasn’t saying is that it would also have to be someone who could deal with Tish’s natural quirks—mainly eating things and turning into them.
Tish had the potential of getting into a lot of trouble with a skill like that. They needed someone who could see through any shenanigans they might pull.
Bertie shoved her way into the building. “What was that hunter doing on my stage?” she demanded. “I thought you were keeping her away from my event. But there she was, with a gun. A gun on my stage. Do you know how much I have on my plate without dealing with an armed confrontation? Do you know how many details are falling to the wayside, Delaney? Do you know how difficult you have made my life?”
Wow, Bertie was furious.
Tish shrank down in their seat, trying to be as small as possible.
But I was used to Bertie. “Sorry,” I said. I meant it. “It was the best I could do under the circumstances.”
“Circumstances?”
“I was trying to make sure Tish here was brought to the station, which meant taking Vivian in the other direction.”
Bertie walked around the front counter and leaned to one side to get a look at Tish who was dodging her line of sight.
“The ghoul? I see. Sit up straight, Tish, posture is important for a first impression.”
Bathin snorted. Bertie ignored him, all her attention on Tish, who did as they were told and straightened up.
“Very good,” Bertie observed. “The weapons are vaulted?”
“Myra has them. They’re digging up the god spell which, if Tish is telling the truth, is buried in Crow’s flower beds.”
“I see. The hunter?”
“I haven’t solved that problem yet.”
“And why not?”
“Because we’re trying to decide what to do with Tish. They want to stay in Ordinary, but they can’t stay without someone taking on guardianship, at least for a few years.”
“Bertie, you should adopt them,” Jean said.
“What?” I asked.
“What?” Bertie echoed. “Why would I do that?”
“You need an assistant,” Jean said. “You were just saying how much work you have to do. Tish is really good at following directions and following through. Aren’t you, Tish?”
“Yes?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” I said. “You’d need to do more than employ them, though. They’d need a place to stay. Someone to show them what it means to live in Ordinary.”
“Of course, of course,” Bertie said, dismissively. “Tish, dear. Do you act? There are several parts in our upcoming play that I am still looking to cast.”
“No?”
“No matter.” Bertie held out her hand. “Come with me. We have much to do.”
Tish stood, looked at me. I nodded.
Tish looked at Bathin. He inclined his head.
Then Tish took Bertie’s hand and smiled.
“First, let’s get you proper shoes. We have a lot to do before the show tomorrow, and we will not be slowed down by blisters.”
They walked out of the building, Bertie’s expression stern, but not unkind, Tish smiling that small smile.
“I am a genius,” Jean said. “Did you see that? Bertie has an assistant. Finally! Do you know how many events we’re going to get out of?”
“None of them?” I leaned back in my chair. “You know how she is.”
Jean lifted her chin. “Nope. You can’t ruin my dreams. Tish will be such a good assistant we’ll get out of two, maybe three whole events this year.”
“Maybe this decade.”
“I’ll take it,” she said.
“Thanks for the assist, Bathin. With Tish just now, and with Goap.”
He was typing on his phone, pressed it one more time, then dropped it in his pocket. “Goap will be back.”
“I know.”
“My father will bring war to our borders.”
“Ooooo,” Jean said rubbing her arms. “Say that again. It was so fantasy-hero, I got chills.”
Bathin grinned. “He’s gonna want a fight.”
“I know. Do you think he has the book of god spells?”
“No. We would know. The entire world would know if my father had that power in his hands.”
“Well, there’s one plus on our side.”
“You’re doing the math wrong, Delaney.” Bathin pushed off the wall, and started toward out door.
“Oh?”
“We have all the pluses. And we always will.” He winked before the door closed behind him.
“Think he’s going to see that Myra gets the weapons stowed?” Jean asked.
“Yes. Where’s Hogan?”
“Waiting for my shift to be over. I’m making dinner tonight. Bibimbap.”
“
Sounds cozy.”
“Where’s your man, Delaney?”
“Walking the beach with a monster hunter.”
“Bummer.” Jean slurped the last of the milkshake out of the cup and tossed it in the trashcan. “But at least you know he’s coming home to you tonight, not her.”
The door swung open again. This time it was our other officers, Hatter and Shoe, who came in, laughing and wiping their faces.
“Hey boys,” Jean called out. “Nothing new except Bertie adopted our ghoul, Tish, Crow’s digging up an ancient god spell and handing it over to Myra so she can lock it away with the Hell weapons Bathin’s brother used to nearly take off Bathin’s head and stab Delaney.”
“So it’s just another run-of-the-mill Friday,” Shoe said in his low grumble.
“Ain’t that the truth?” Hatter drawled in his fake accent that was leaning a lot more Texas lately.
“Hey boss,” Shoe said. “Heard you put on quite the show today.”
“Demons,” I said. “Just a head’s up? Xtelle’s ring can stop time.”
“Well, ho-lee shit,” Hatter said. “I don’t suppose she’d loan that out? I have a three-day weekend coming up.”
“No,” I said.
Jean winked at Hatter, and kept winking. “No. Totally no. We aren’t allowed to commandeer demon weapons for private use.” She strolled over to him. “I totally wouldn’t bribe it off of Bathin and pass it around.”
Hatter gave her a low five.
I pointed at her. “You know better.” I pointed at Hatter next. “You should know better.”
He grinned. “Never hurts to ask. You okay? I mean besides the attempted fratricide.”
“Yeah, I’ll write the report. Basically Goap wanted to get Bathin’s attention so he swung Bunny Kisses at him, which didn’t leave a scratch because he’s not a king.”
“You hit your head, boss?” Shoe asked.
My hand went to the back of my head, and I winced. “Once, why?”
“That sounded like a concussion talking.”
“Ha-ha. Would you like a cup of fresh coffee?”
“Yes?” he asked with a frown, sensing a trap.
“Good. Get me one too.”
Hatter laughed. Shoe might have grumbled about it, but he strolled to the coffee station and poured two cups.
“Shouldn’t you go home?” Jean asked. “Your head? Your shoulder?”
I couldn’t bring myself to dealing with Vivian again. Not yet. “First I’m going to write up my report.”