by R. J. Blain
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s not like I don’t want to get out of town.”
“Of course not.”
She spun the beaters in the air, and the wind outside heaved the whale sides, sucking the tenting in, and blowing it way out. Rain clattered again, driving hard.
“I have a lot on my plate,” I said, but even as the words were out of my mouth, I knew they were a lie. Or at least an avoidance.
I did want to leave town. Desperately. The idea of a vacation with my fiancé was… well, it was wonderful.
But a little part of me, just a tiny slice of my heart, was frozen, stuck here, worried what would happen to the town if I were gone.
When our father had died, just a few years ago, I’d stepped into his place as the Bridge and Chief of Police all in one go. A lot had happened since then. I’d been shot, lost my soul, regained it, been attacked by demons, killed by an ancient evil.
I’d fallen in love with the boy I’d adored growing up. The boy I’d had a crush on. The man who’d returned to his childhood town.
Ryder Bailey.
It was easy to want to go away with him.
It was impossible to find a break in the constant troubles in this town. Every time I thought I could grab a full twenty-four hours, or maybe stretch it to a three-day weekend, something blew up.
Literally.
“You know,” Jean said, “a new horizon would be really good for you. You’ve been through a lot in the last… well, years.”
“It hasn’t been—”
“—and so has Ryder.” She tossed the eggbeater back on a pile of kitchen utensils and small animal statues, then caught my gaze. “Both of you need time together.”
“We have lots of time together. We live together.”
“Time alone. Out of town. Away from your jobs.” She planted her hands on her hips and that Reed stubbornness set her stance.
“I see you have no opinion about this.”
She opened her mouth, probably to lecture me on my relationship, but my phone rang. I pulled it out and turned half away from her to answer it.
“Chief Reed.”
“Delaney,” said Frigg, who was the Norse goddess of the same name. “Aren’t you out of town yet?”
“You know I’m not.” I was pretty sure the gods and goddesses would know when I left. They’d feel the Bridge closing.
“Since you’re still here, I need to talk to you.”
“I’m listening.”
Jean tsked and shook her head. I scowled at her and pointed at the Chief part of Chief Reed on my coat.
“In person,” Frigg said. “How about the Blue Owl?”
I glanced around at Crow’s stuff, then at the scattering of new people coming in the tent mouth, shaking off the rain, and browsing through the treasures.
I could have sworn another flash of gold twinkled at the corner of my eye, but when I turned that way, all I saw was normal, everyday junk.
No gold sparkles on any of it.
My phone vibrated.
“Delaney?” Frigg asked.
“Hold on.”
I pulled my phone away from my ear so I could scan the screen. Text message from Ryder with an attachment.
I tapped the message.
All it said was: yes? above a photo of a gorgeous high mountain lake with a sweet cottage sitting like a storybook jewel above the curve of the shore.
My heartbeat sped up and I froze for a second. It looked idyllic. But we did not need one more cancellation fee. I hoped he hadn’t booked it yet.
I closed the text and held my phone back up. “I could eat,” I told the goddess. I cleared my throat. “See you there in about twenty?”
She chuckled. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I look forward to hearing about it. Oh, and bring the dragon. I have something for it.”
I hung up and spotted Jean. She’d wandered off during the call and was now standing in the checkout line.
“Jean?” I called.
“House hippo!” She held up a little statue and gave it a wiggle.
“Why?”
“Because it’s a house hippo.” She almost had to shout over the rain. Crow, dishing out her change, glanced over at me and wiggled his eyebrows.
“They’re good luck,” he said, while Jean made big eyes and nodded vigorously.
I sighed and made a wrap it up signal.
She took the hippo and a paper-wrapped something Crow handed her, then strode over. “Something go down?” she asked, as she fell into step with me.
“Frigg needs to talk over lunch.”
“Thank gods,” Jean said. “I’m starving. Here.” She offered me the paper-wrapped package. “It’s a cookie. You look grumpy.”
I thought about opening it, but we were at the lurid pink mouth of the lurid pink whale, and beyond that was a downpour so heavy, the rain was a wall of white.
Staying inside the whale was suddenly sounding like a better idea.
“So I heard about this great hotel up on the Olympic Peninsula,” Jean started. “They have this vacation deal…”
And just like that, I was out in the rain and running for the Jeep, my sister laughing and splashing right behind me.
Chapter Two
The Blue Owl was Ordinary’s only twenty-four-hour diner, and it was a favorite of truckers hauling up and down Highway 101. Even with a detour to pick up the dragon pig, we got there in under ten minutes.
The smell of onions and butter and fresh bread hit me as I clomped through the door, dragon pig tucked under my arm. Over the scratchy old speakers, the Big Bopper sang about big-eyed girls and Chantilly lace.
Outside, the stormy day grew darker even though it wasn’t even evening yet. The storm was gonna be a beast of a thing. I hung my coat on the rack by the door, scanned the room, and headed over to the booth by the window to meet with a goddess.
Frigg saw Jean and me coming, smiled, and waved at the table already loaded with three steaming mugs. We slid into the bench seat opposite her.
“Thanks,” I said, dropping the dragon pig beside me. Luckily, the dragon we’d found decided to take the form of a baby pig while it stayed in town. Maybe less luckily, it had decided to stay with me.
I mean, yes, having a dragon had come in handy. Back before the demon Bathin had been dating my other sister, he’d promised me he would save Ryder from a blizzard.
Only problem? He saved him by kidnapping him.
Demons.
On the upside, dragons have the unique ability to find demons no matter where they hide.
So all I’d had to do was tell my little dragon pig to fetch, and off it had popped.
Ryder appeared back home an instant later.
So had the demon.
It had been a weird Christmas.
But even though the dragon pig looked like a piggy, it was a dragon and it could eat.
“Mocha?” Jean asked.
“Of course.” Frigg had on a soft, wheat-colored sweater that made her long blonde hair shimmer like sunshine. The sweater was nice. I was used to seeing her in her tow company gear: button-down shop shirt with her name embroidered over the pocket.
“Day off?” I guessed.
“Just the morning. There’s a storm coming. That means tow jobs.” She leaned back against the booth, her arm resting across the top of it.
The dragon pig did a quick little circle before spotting the cutlery on the table. It oinked.
“Spoons later, if you behave,” I told it. “Home spoons.”
It grunted, a very piggy sound, but a thin tendril of smoke rose from its nostrils.
“Oh, which reminds me.” Frigg dug in the backpack next to her and pulled out a handkerchief tied around something that clattered. “Lug nuts,” she said. “Broken and rusted.”
The dragon pig squeaked. Happy. Very happy.
I untied the kerchief. “Thank you.” I plunked the lug nuts down next to the dragon pig, and it went to town, sucking up those h
unks of metal.
“So what did you need to see me about?”
“Since you’re not on vacation, I thought we might as well do this now. Why aren’t you on vacation, by the way?”
Jean snorted, then rubbed whipped cream off her nose. “So many things on her plate. Such a busy woman. Ordinary won’t survive if she doesn’t babysit.”
“I don’t babysit,” I groused. “I’m the Chief of Police. I protect.”
Jean rolled her eyes. “We’re fine, Delaney. I don’t know how many times I have to say that. We. Are. Fine.”
“Here we go!” Piper arrived at our table with a serving tray.
“Did you order for us?” I asked Frigg.
Frigg shook her head. “Why bother when Piper knows what we want anyway?”
Piper blushed, pleased with the compliment. She was a demigod, the only one in town, and her relationship with the gods was sometimes strained.
Her ability to know what someone was going to order was pretty cool, though. On the table, she placed clam chowder for Jean, a chicken salad for me, and a veggie burger for Frigg.
“How’d I do?” she asked. “Everyone happy?”
“This looks great.” Jean and Frigg looked just as satisfied.
Dragon pig stood on its back legs, that little pink curl of a tail wagging like mad. It grunted, a tiny piggy sound, and Piper chuckled. “Of course I didn’t forget you.”
She placed a folded towel on the table. I lifted the corner and found six broken forks.
“New hire has been a little hard on the cutlery,” she said.
A clash and shatter sounded from the kitchen. Everyone in the diner went silent. Heads turned as if they could see the disaster through the walls.
Piper just shook her head. “That’s my cue. Excuse me.” She spun and was across the room, pulling a bottle of ketchup out of her apron and plunking it down in front of a family of four before she powered into the kitchen.
“Good manners,” I told the dragon pig. “No feet on the table.”
The dragon pig instantly dropped back onto the seat. I smuggled it a fork, which it chomped down in one bite.
“You were saying?” I asked Frigg.
“I’ve been storing them for over a year now,” she said.
“The god powers?”
She nodded, her mouth full of burger.
Jean was taking selfies with a spoon of clam chowder. I stabbed chicken, spinach, and dried cranberry and chewed. “That’s long enough,” I said. “The hand off to a new keeper shouldn’t be hard. Who’s up next?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We’ve done the full rotation. Every god has covered a year of watching over the resting powers. I think we should give the new guy a crack at it.”
Jean stopped posing and tuned back into the conversation. “Really?”
“Than,” I said. “You want Death to look after all the gods’ powers.” It wasn’t a question, so Frigg didn’t answer it. She just stuck another fry in her mouth.
Oh, this could go wrong. So very wrong. “Okay. I’ll talk to him.”
“Is that hesitation I hear in your voice? Is there something about Than taking over the powers I should be worried about?”
“Just that this is the first time in his existence he’s vacationed.”
She did that “maybe” wobble with her hand.
“The first time he’s vacationed in Ordinary,” I amended.
“True. Don’t think he can handle being guardian of the powers?”
“I think he’ll do fine. But I want to go over the rules and expectations with him first.”
Which meant cancelling another vacation plan. Ryder was going to kill me.
“When did you want to hand them off?” I asked.
“Think he can get it all together by this weekend?”
Jean cleared her throat and coughed. It sounded like vacation.
“Actually,” Frigg said, “Than’s a go-getter. Tell him to step it up. Tomorrow morning would be better.”
Jean gave her a thumb’s up. I just rolled my eyes. “I’ll let you know if he’s ready by then.”
“Works for me. Where are you going on vacation, anyway?”
I stabbed at a piece of romaine, the tines crunching and snapping the spine of the leaf, as I imagined every person who had asked me that over the last month.
“Somewhere outside Oregon,” Jean said. “Right? That pretty bed and breakfast?”
“We haven’t decided yet. We have deposits on a couple places, and Ryder has a pile of backups if those fall through.” I stuffed salad in my mouth and wished the carrots and celery were loud enough to drown out the questions I knew they were about to ask.
Why haven’t you gone yet? Is it because of the upcoming wedding? Are you and Ryder okay? What’s wrong?
I didn’t want to answer any of those things. Not after months of it. Because nothing was wrong. It was just Ordinary being Ordinary, and me trying to keep it safe.
“You know,” Frigg said, picking up on my mood. “There are many beautiful and interesting places in the world. Sometimes letting fate take the reins will put you on the best path.”
“Road trip,” Jean said. “Hell yeah. Just flip a coin at every intersection. Heads, right, tails, left, show up wherever you arrive.”
“What if I want to go straight ahead?” I asked.
Frigg lifted her burger, tucking some of the onions back between the buns. “Then just commit to the decision. Stop worrying.” Her gaze met mine, her eyes sharp with something that made me feel like she was looking a lot deeper into me than I wanted. “And go.”
She took a huge bite of the burger, and I wondered if that was the solution. Just go.
Could it be that easy?
My phone pinged. Ryder again.
I’ll take that as a no.
I didn’t text back.
The phone pinged.
Let’s talk tonight at home. Ok?
Really, he’d been more than patient.
I texted: Have to see Than. Will be home later.
Did you feed the dragon pig?
It had a snack.
He sent a thumbs up and a heart.
I sent three hearts and a kissy face.
“I’ve got this one.” Jean’s fingers and thumb flew over her phone.
“Problem?”
“I don’t think so. Hatter just texted that there was a complaint at Mom’s Bar and Grill. Something about a stripper? Gonna make sure there isn’t a problem.”
More delays. I swallowed a groan. “Fine, let’s go.”
“No. You,” she stood and pointed at me, looking every inch an officer of the law, “go talk to Than. I’ll handle this. Hatter’s headed there. Kelby too.”
Hatter was a police officer we’d stolen from a town up north, and Kelby was a giantess, who was one of our reserve officers like Ryder and Than. She had a way about her that took the heat out of confrontations and left everyone laughing.
“That’s Kelby now.” Jean’s gaze moved from the widow beside me back to my face. “Look, I know you’re worried about stuff. And I know it’s been… well, nuts lately.”
I stabbed a carrot and shoved it in my mouth.
“But would you just go already?” She smiled to soften the words. “I promise you’ll have a lot of fun and you’ll be so happy you did it.”
“Who knows,” Frigg added. “You might even relax.”
“The horror,” Jean said with a grin. “Go. Wherever he picks, just say yes and go.”
She turned and jogged out the door before she’d even gotten her coat on and zipped.
Kelby flashed her headlights, Jean ducked into the vehicle, then they pulled a cookie and headed south into town.
I watched the car until I couldn’t see it anymore. There were little toys lined up along the windowsill, the plastic ones that ran on solar power. They all seemed to be waving good-bye.
“You want to talk to me about why you’re afraid of going on vaca
tion?” Frigg asked.
“When have I said I was afraid?”
She just took another bite of the burger and waited.
“I’m here because you,” I held up a fork of spinach and stabbed it toward her, “called me here.”
“You’ve been planning your vacation since November.”
“Ever tried to be Chief of Police in this town?”
She shook her head.
“Smart.” I chewed the spinach, she went after the burger again, and Willie sang on about being on the road.
“If you want to reschedule this handoff,” she said, “I could keep the powers a little longer.”
“No, that screws things up. There are rules in place for a reason, and one year is the rule for the powers. I knew it was coming up.”
We were quiet for a few more bites. “So Bertie’s calling a meeting tonight,” I said.
“About the festivals she’s planning to throw?”
“You coming?”
“No. Very no. What’s the most no?” she asked. “That much no. Doubled.”
I laughed. “It’s not that bad. She’ll listen to suggestions.”
“She’ll conscript volunteers.”
“I’m on the hook no matter what. Don’t you want to pitch in a little time for the good of the community?”
“Gee, what would that be like? Good of the community? Would that be like digging tourists’ vehicles out of sand banks and sand dunes and the ocean and the lake and the river and off the side of the cliffs and…”
I laughed again. “Point taken. But if you ever get tired of dragging people out of ditches, I’m sure Bertie would have a delightful concession stand or sweaty, costumed mascot position for you.”
“Nope. I’ll leave the festivals and events to the Valkyrie. I’m happy in the ditches.”
The dragon pig oinked, tired of being ignored, so I fed it a couple more forks while we finished our meal.
I picked up the tab, Frigg said she’d catch the next one, then she headed to the door. Before she opened it, she turned, hand on the bar.
“Oh, and Delaney?”
“Yes?” I left money on the table, scooped up the dragon pig, and headed for the coat rack.
“Take some time off. You, of all people, have earned it.” She pulled the hood of her coat over her head and sauntered out into the rain, slow and easy as a summer day.