by Casey Wyatt
“How about we take a walk along the river?” Zephyr suggested, after insisting he pay for their meals. Cal let him. His ego wasn’t so weak that he would dicker over a dinner tab. Nix made a half-assed attempt to protest, but her heart wasn’t in it. She gave up way too easily. Yeah, something was wrong.
The boardwalk area and small grassy park were devoid of tourists. They were either long gone or elsewhere in the restaurants or shops. Dark water lapped along the thick pilings, the river traffic mostly dried up once the sun set.
Nix took a seat on a wooden bench. “So what gives, Zeph? Why were you in my place?”
Cal crossed his arms and tapped his foot, too antsy to sit down. A decision he regretted when Zephyr parked his elegant ass next to Nix. If he got any closer, he would be sitting on her. It had been a long time since Cal had to remind himself to be patient.
“I have information.”
“I thought you couldn’t help us.” Nix frowned.
“This isn’t help, direct or indirect. This is common knowledge. It’s about Uncle Memphis.”
Nix seemed to sit up straighter. Cal remembered Nix’s desire to learn about her elusive uncle’s past. Memphis, always tight-lipped, had an aura of mystery about him, carefully honed and calculated over the centuries. Even Cal, with his Delian League connections, could only find scraps of information about the immortal.
Nix punched Zephyr in the arm. “Don’t keep me in suspense. Start talking.”
“Easy, girl. That’s my massaging arm.” Zephyr mock rubbed his right arm. “Before you were born, there was a rumor floating around. More like a suggestion or hint. I paid it no attention at the time, but now in light of what has happened, I’ve started to give it more credence. So I dug out my old journals—”
“Wait. You keep a diary!” Cal blurted out. He laughed so hard, his gut hurt. Tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. “That is so girly.”
“Real men keep journals.” Zephyr popped off the bench and pointed at Cal. “It’s an ancient tradition. Not that I expect a young whelp like you, a cur of Ares, to understand.”
Flames erupted from Cal’s finger as he pointed back. “I’m no one’s dog.”
“Knock it off you two. Can we please get back to my uncle?” Nix placed her gentle fingers on Cal’s forearm. The flames quenched at her touch.
Chagrined, Cal stepped back and nodded. “Pardon my outburst. Please continue.”
Zephyr narrowed his eyes at Cal, but resumed. “As I was saying . . . after several hours of searching, I located the information. Turns out that Memphis and Hades had dealings.”
“What kind of dealings?” Nix asked.
“I have no idea. The rumor wasn’t that specific, but shortly thereafter, the Underworld Gate appeared and the shop opened.” Zephyr seemed quite pleased. Like he had discovered the secret of the universe.
Nix quieted, absorbed in thought. After a few more moments, she stood up. “Thank you. If you remember anything else, please let me know.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. Would you like me to walk you home?” Zephyr leaned toward Nix. Way too close.
“No need. I’ll be walking her home.” Cal moved behind her.
“Really. I don’t need an escort,” Nix said.
Cal glared at Zephyr over Nix’s head. He ignored her protests. Cal’s patience had vanished. “She’s my responsibility. She walks back with me.”
Zephyr smirked back. “It’s no contest between us. I’m older and stronger.”
“So you think. The only way you surpass me is in the size of your ego. It’s enormous.”
“Nix has been my friend longer. You’re a nobody. Just another of Nereus’ lackeys. You’ll be long gone, and Nix and I will still be friends.”
“It’s my job to protect her, not yours.” Cal silenced his tongue. He had almost let it slip that Nix had loved him first. Not the old windbag.
“Wind trumps flame.” Zephyr blasted him in the back of the head with a wind gust so hard his teeth rattled.
Cal stepped in front of Nix. His ears had stopped listening to her pleas for them to calm down. He was sure his eyes had flashed from brown to red. Fire and anger blended into one furious desire and danced from his fingertips. He welcomed the burn, ready to grant the fire its freedom. “We’ll see how triumphant you feel after I fry the hair off your head.”
Yes, the flames hissed in his mind. Their warmth sizzled under his skin. The release would be so sweet. It had been so long since he had let the fire rule him. He had forgotten the high of their power. Cal raised his palm, ready to let go—
Cold water dumped onto his head. He staggered under its force. The iciness bit into his skin, dousing the internal fury. When he blinked the water out of his eyes, Zephyr was equally drenched, his hair plastered down his face.
“If either of you tries to walk me home, I’ll sweep you both into Long Island Sound.” Nix stalked off, leaving them dripping wet.
“I guess we both deserved that,” Cal said, wiping the water out of his eyes.
“I agree.” Zephyr raised the wind and blew his clothes dry. “Would you allow me?”
Cal accepted. He hated having water in his shoes.
Once they were both dry, Zephyr offered Cal his hand. “No hard feelings?”
“No.” Cal shook Zephyr’s hand. The God’s natural power surged into his palm. It wasn’t threatening or even demanding. It just existed, like the elemental force that Zephyr was.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize before tonight that you . . .” Zephyr paused, as if unsure if he should continue. “. . . that you love her.”
Am I that obvious? A heavy weight settled on Cal’s chest. He swallowed hard, pushing the lump out of his throat. “You can never speak of this to Nix. Not ever.” Cal hoped Zephyr would heed the warning. “The information could jeopardize her mental health.”
“I understand, Cal. She will not hear of this from me.” Zephyr turned to go, then stopped and faced Cal. “What are your intentions toward her? Especially if you don’t get your soul back.”
That was easy. “I’ll fight to the end to stay with her. But if I lose, then I’ll find a way to the Elysian Fields. I won’t give her up again.”
Zephyr nodded. “I will help you both, however I can. Go with the Gods, Calder Quinne.”
Cal watched Zephyr walk away, aware that he had passed an important test. He had earned Zephyr’s respect. And he found that gratifying. Maybe the water had washed away some of his anger toward Zephyr. Or maybe it was the other male’s acknowledgement of his love for Nix. No matter the reason, he had gained a new ally and maybe even a friend.
Nix crept down the back stairs. The shop had been open for an hour and business was light. Basil was singing a horrid rendition of a pop song on the radio. In the background, Cal and Jason were egging the foolish bird along. She cracked open the back door, slipped outside, and walked down the garage side of her alley. If there was a body at the dumpster, she didn’t want to know. She headed for the coffee shop located behind the Whaler’s Inn on the next block. Chloe and Tabby had texted her, begging Nix to come meet them as soon as she could get away.
Mystic Ink was in a lull, between the morning rush and lunch crowd, so she could leave with no one the wiser. Cal thought she was upstairs doing paperwork.
“Nix. Over here.” Chloe waved her over to a small café table outside the shop. A box of pastries and a coffee were already waiting.
“Bless you, Sister. Hand over that box.” Nix polished off an apple Danish and half her coffee before giving in to Tabby’s pleading.
“Come on Nix, is it true?” Tabby whined again. “Is Cal really missing his soul?”
“Yes. How did you hear about it?” If Jason had blabbed, Nix was going to pierce his mouth shut.
“You know, through the grapevine.” Tabby shrugged.
“Seriously, Nix, the one guy in centuries who is truly interested in you and within two weeks, his soul is in peril?” Chloe teased. Of all her sisters,
Chloe had the gentlest spirit. Father had permanently retired her from service after Chloe refused to wear the Mantle. Nix suspected that Nereus was so surprised to be challenged by Chloe he relented. A decision Nix agreed with. Chloe wasn’t suited for a hard life of combat and intrigue. Nix admired her for standing up to their father.
“That’s not how it happened.” At least Nix hoped she was telling the truth.
“He is really into you.” Tabby chose a cruller out of the pastry box and dipped it into her coffee.
Nix shook her head, “No. He’s only interested in finding out if I’m crazy.”
“No. He wanted to know all about you. Your hobbies, where you liked to go on your free time,” Tabby insisted.
“All part of the job, I’m sure.” Nix didn’t have the heart to argue with Tabby. Cal probably collected the information so he could find her when she snuck off. “When did he have time to ask you all these probing questions?”
“The night at the beach house,” Chloe answered. “I think he genuinely cares for you, Nix. You should give him the benefit of the doubt. He said he wanted to see you again after the assignment ends.”
That gave Nix pause. She popped the bubble of hope before it absorbed her common sense. She couldn’t have a normal life. The Fates had a different plan for her. Not to mention, she was still hearing the voice. When she had woken that morning, it buzzed into her head. It politely suggested she stop ignoring it and accept the offer for help. Who had ever heard of a well-mannered figment of imagination? Cal could never learn the truth, so she would have to keep him at arm’s length. No way was she being locked up or reduced to a bucket of water or whatever the League did to punish crazy Destroyers.
“So what are you going to do?” Tabby nibbled on a glazed doughnut.
“Nothing. We have a much bigger problem than my lame love life.” Nix brought her sisters up to date on events. They gasped, asked questions, offered suggestions, but in the end they didn’t have any new ideas either.
“There’s got to be something you can do. What about Daddy?” Chloe had twisted her braid around her fingertip.
“He seems to be out on one of his extended fishing trips.” Nix hid her concern. She suspected Nereus was either lying low, so he wouldn’t have to turn her away when she asked for his help, or something else was detaining him. Probably something bad.
“Well, how inconvenient,” Tabby lamented.
Chloe stared at her sister like she sprouted a third eye. “Tabby—”
A foul odor caught Nix’s nose. She knew that smell—trouble. Nix stood up. “I’ve got to go.”
“Keep us posted!” Tabby shouted as Nix ran toward Mystic Ink.
Gods damn it. What did those bitches want? Nix skidded around the block and stopped dead at the sight in her shop’s front window. Scantily clad, well-endowed cheerleaders had Jason surrounded. The most buxom of the bunch was seated on Jason’s lap while they shared his tattoo chair. Freaking Harpies. They all seemed to have recovered from Cal’s inferno. Speaking of Cal, he was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Mary or Basil for that matter.
Nix didn’t wait to find out where everyone else was. She barged in through the front door. “What are you skanks doing in my shop?” Nix kept her hands behind her back, a ball of water balanced in her palms.
“Go away, Nereid. Your lovely hero had agreed to give us whatever we want.” Miss Chesty straddled Jason, her long legs hanging wide on each armrest. An impressive stretch, even if it was revolting at the same time. The cheerleader persona was a façade. If the glamour dropped, the sight wouldn’t be pretty. Nix had no desire to see gray, scaly chicken legs dappled with moldy feathers. Ick.
“Really? What do you want?” This time Nix would ask questions first, then blast them.
The Harpy wriggled around on Jason’s lap and shifted her hand down between his legs. “Tell her what we want, big boy.”
Jason’s eyes lolled in his head, a slow smile crept across his face. “Give them the seal,” he said, his voice faraway and dreamy. Not this again.
“Get off him, you heinous bitch.” Bullets of water exploded from her fingertips, targeting each of the Harpies’ eyes. Hard drops hit their marks. They screamed in shock and anger.
“Fool!” Miss Chesty leaped off of Jason’s lap, leaving him in a confused daze. She faced Nix, eyes white and dead like a corpse. “This is the second time you’ve interfered.”
“Excuse me? I’m not the issue here. Go back to whatever hellhole you crawled out from.” Nix eyed the other Harpies. They were regaining their sight. She needed a game plan. She was outnumbered four to one. More water, this time hardened into ice balls, blinded the downed cheerleaders again. They writhed on the floor, rubbing their eyes and cursing Nix. The Harpy leader, Miss Chesty, evaded the next blast and tackled Nix to the ground. Nix fell backwards in time to see the ice ball smack Jason’s head instead.
Nix rode the backward momentum and flung the Harpy overhead into the hard oak receptionist desk. The desk groaned, but held fast, securely bolted to the floor. The Harpy’s legs jackknifed and twisted, trying to stand. The force would have broken a mortal spine. It merely slowed the bitch down.
“Give us the seal!” another demented cheerleader wailed from the corner. She used Nix’s tattoo chair to pull herself upright.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Get out of my shop!” Nix summoned more water, ready to drown them out if necessary. So far the damage to the place was minimal and she wanted to keep it that way. Water was easy to clean up. Broken furniture and cracked walls, not so much.
Nix raised her palms upward. Liquid flowed, pulsing. A sharp stinging blow hit her neck, and her concentration snapped. The water gushed onto the floor. Miss Chesty had tossed a stapler at the back of Nix’s head.
“If you don’t want to cooperate, we can make you.” Miss Chesty’s gnarled hands gripped Jason’s throat. He smiled blissfully as the color drained from his face, their enchantment still in full force.
Nix’s temper exploded. “Get your hands off him.” Anger spilled from her pores. The water boiled on the floor. Enough was enough. She flung her power at them, full force.
The Harpies screamed a long, keening wail. The air reeked of wet, moldy feathers and baked road kill. Flames erupted. The evil bitches’ hair burned. Burned?
Nix dropped her hands. This wasn’t her doing. She turned around.
Calder Quinne stood in the front door. Wave after wave of pissed off rolled inside the shop like a steam train. “I warned you last time. Didn’t I?”
Cal pulled off his sunglasses, exposing his eyes. Nix tried not to gape. Blue—the hottest color of fire—glowed from his eye sockets. The Harpies were about to become toast, and they were too stupid to notice.
The Harpies lined up. Defiant, chins held high, despite singed hair and clothes. Miss Chesty used Jason as a human shield. “Go ahead, Son of Ares. Toast the Hero.”
Cal laughed. The cold kind that meant death was coming. “So limited in your thinking.”
Nix took a step back at the intense heat. Cal seemed to be lost in the moment. The flames danced in his eyes. He was close to the edge of losing control.
Nix gathered all the water she could find and hurled it against the Harpies’ backs. The force knocked them forward. The water rushed under their feet, sweeping them toward the door.
“Cal! Grab Jason!” Nix increased the speed of the water, sending the Harpies outside in a flood of tangled arms and legs. Curious bystanders watched as a group of soaked, bedraggled teenagers moaned in the middle of the street. Motorists swerved to avoid them. The Harpies took the hint and crossed the street.
“You haven’t won, Nymph!” Miss Chesty yelled. “The end times are coming and you can’t stop us—”
She squealed, the rest of her speech cut short by a well-timed fireball up the miniskirt. They ran down the road, leaving behind the stench of smoked road kill.
“Good riddance to them.” Jason staggered on the sidewal
k, holding his head. “I need a gallon of mouth wash and a long shower.”
Nix sniffed the air. “Yup, you do stink.”
“Thanks, boss.” Jason sat on the front step, rubbing his temples. “Man. I have a headache.”
“Do you remember what they wanted?” Cal asked.
“They kept babbling about a seal.” Jason lifted his head. “And they wanted me to dig out all the tattoo books. When I showed them what we had, they got angry and insisted I get Memphis’ older designs. Nix, you know which ones I mean, right?”
Nix nodded. She knew. Those books were locked in her safe.
Memphis had been specific in his directions that they be locked away. The designs, many of them ancient, were sacred and not to be inked on any old fool with coin to spare. Memphis’ exact words.
When she had asked her uncle, “Who could they be used on?” he had smiled and said, “You’ll know.”
Not very fucking helpful.
“Go clean up. I’ll take it from here.” Nix stopped him. “By the way, where are Mary and Basil?”
Jason pulled his sorry ass vertical. “She took him to the groomer. Remember? Today’s nail trimming day.” No one could trim Basil’s nails, except the local groomer. When anyone else tried it, he would bite and carry on. The bird was such a pain.
By the time Mary and Basil returned, the shop had been cleaned up in time for the next appointment. Cal spent his time in the backroom making phone calls. He resisted all of Nix’s attempts to find out where he had been prior to the Harpy attack.
The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, until closing time. Nix smelled the Satyr before he even entered the shop. She stopped disinfecting, cracked her knuckles, ready to kick ass. Cal swung out of the backroom like Tarzan on a vine, intercepting her before she could knock the cretin out the door.
“Ward, why are you in my shop?”