Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

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Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels Page 411

by Jasmine Walt


  She raised an amused eyebrow. “What was he supposed to do?” she asked. She flashed me a wide grin. “He and Hades argued for hours over how it should have been handled differently.” She rolled her eyes with that. “Their voices shook the palace walls. I’m surprised that didn’t wake you out of your stupor.”

  I watched her, trying to gauge how serious she was. I got the feeling that she was usually a devious little thing, however, sincerity reflected in her eyes, which caused some of my anger to evaporate. I tried imagining the blind, younger god with a cane standing up to the Lord of the Underworld on my behalf. The thought was both humbling and bizarre.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, realizing that I hadn’t heard it yet.

  “Tisiphone,” the nymph said. She grinned wickedly. “I’m an Erinyes.” She said that as if that should ring a bell. I still looked at her blankly. She rolled her eyes. “You humans are so dense. Erinyes. The Furies. The Kindly Ones.”

  That still meant nothing to me.

  “Callie,” I introduced myself. “Although you already knew that.”

  She flashed her pointy teeth. “I did. I’m here to watch over you and be your partner in...” she waved her hands nonchalantly, “in your endeavors. So, Callie, what is it you want to do next?”

  The question actually caught me off guard. She was waiting for my answer, seeing if I was still accepting the case.

  I hesitated. Did I really want to through with this? Was there even a chance? I was going up against some impossible odds for a mortal, even if I had been dunked in the River Styx. And I was dealing with people who didn’t really care what happened to me. All they wanted was to maintain the balance that had been established for millennia.

  I was just a means to an end.

  My father’s words hung in the air in front of me.

  You are strong, Callie.

  On a table in a corner of the room, my tablet flared to life as I received a message. I regarded it for a moment, debating if I should answer it or if I should hurl it against the wall, smashing it into a million tiny pieces. My gut instinct told me to trash it. My logical brain cautioned me to use my head.

  Could I really do this?

  I thought back to Plutus. He could become a victim sooner rather than later. And it was my duty as a police detective to figure out who was trying to kill him.

  Not that I’d win a jurisdiction argument if it ever went to court.

  As much as I hated the idea of sorting out the gods’ problems, I really wanted to get home. I wanted to get back to my life, the one I’d carefully built.

  I wanted to live. And I wanted to show Hades that I was the best detective anywhere.

  My knees were weak as I swung them on the side of the bed. Tisiphone’s eyes glittered as she watched me, probably waiting to see if I could hold myself up. I got to my feet and stumbled over to the table. I thumbed in my password and an email from Hades popped up. It was the image of the warrant giving me carte blanche to interrogate everyone in the Underworld. He suggested I meet with his head of security first, Daedalus.

  The sooner I got started, the sooner I could be back on the sofa in my apartment. Above ground. Appealing wasn’t a big enough word to cover it.

  “I need to see the dining hall where the servant died and Plutus was attacked.”

  She looked momentarily confused before her grin settled back into place, although this time it was far icier. I wondered what had caused her expression to change so rapidly.

  I couldn’t interrogate people in the red nightgown, so I checked the wardrobe for some more suitable clothes. Beneath some weird ballroom dresses, bed sheets that might have been the material for togas, and some other stuff that looked like it would barely fit Tisiphone, I found my freshly washed jeans and loose white shirt. I pulled them on, ignoring the fact that Tisiphone was in the room as I changed clothes.

  I felt like I was putting on a mask of normalcy and it actually felt amazing. Even my fake leather boots were there. I pulled them on, grinning at the joke. I didn’t make a whole lot with my salary, so I couldn’t afford real leather. I still loved these boots, despite the fact that they were cheaply made. They were my hunting boots, as I liked to call them.

  I was so glad they had survived the River Styx.

  Tisiphone didn’t hide her distaste in my choice of clothing. “You look like a human,” she muttered.

  “Good,” I told her. “That’s the look I was going for.” My badge was also there. I debated on whether or not I should wear it, and decided that I should. The San Francisco PD might not have a whole bunch of weight here, but it was the best I could do. I should probably ask Hades for a badge or something, although Tisiphone was a part of the law enforcement presence here and she wasn't wearing one.

  I was starting to feel like my old self. I clipped the shiny gold star just above my jean pocket and bunched up my t-shirt on the side.

  The last thing I did was quietly tuck my new handgun into the back of my jeans. I’d have to ask for a holster later. My jeans would have to do for now. Tisiphone was looking out the window at that moment, so she didn’t see my new pistol. For some reason, I felt that it was a good thing to keep it secret. At least, until I knew more about her.

  As a cop, I’d learned that trust was something that had to be earned.

  I checked myself out in the mirror and fought the urge to gasp. I was radiating with an ethereal kind of light. I looked a million times hotter than I did when I was alive. I mean, I wasn’t that pretty when I was alive. I wasn’t ugly, but I was someone men would overlook to check out some other girl. I was tall, nearly six feet tall, with shoulder-length curly brown hair that was untamable so I always wore it in a ponytail.

  I was athletic, having not been blessed with that slender model physique that you find in fashion magazines. I was a lot curvier than I would have liked, especially with my too-large breasts that actually hurt when I went out for jogs. The muscles I had turned off a lot of guys too. I wasn’t ripped, necessarily, but I had definition to my body that a lot of women didn’t have. That part was okay for me though. I’d be damned if I was defenseless, so I worked out and made sure that I had enough strength to beat up the bad guys.

  A small, scripty tattoo ran down the length of the inside of my left bicep, with the words “The half-true rhyme is love” from Seamus Heaney. I found it engraved on a tombstone near my father's grave and the knowledge that it comforted someone else gave me a bit of comfort.

  I was never bitter about my looks, but it would have been nice to be prettier. I’d admitted that to myself more than a few times.

  Now, however, I looked...amazing. No amount of makeup or hair preparation would have made me look anywhere near this great. I was still curvy, still myself, yet there was something that made me look dazzling.

  “Wow,” I said, more for myself than for Tisiphone’s sake.

  “Yes, you wear Death very well,” Tisiphone replied, amused. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay dead?”

  “No,” I told her automatically. “I want to live.” There was no question about it.

  And even though I knew I’d lose that radiant look if I lived again, I was emboldened by my good looks. I turned on my heel and strode out of the room.

  And ran straight into Plutus with an oof. I didn't just bump into him: I barreled the god over.

  “Shit!” I cried out. I reached out and managed to pull him upright before he tumbled to the floor.

  He let out a small chuckle. My ears perked to that. I don’t think I heard a genuine chuckle from him when I first talked to him. “Kind of contrary to your objective if you kill me yourself, Callista,” he said softly.

  “Sorry,” I apologized, wincing. I fussed over him, made sure my charge was okay. Everything seemed to be in order, and he hadn't dropped anything. I realized how close I was standing to him and nearly jumped back to give him space. Personal bubble, I reminded myself.

  He peered at me through his sightless eyes, although I
got the feeling that he could see me through other mysterious senses. He was a little bit taller than me, so we were nearly at eye-level with each other.

  I swallowed, realizing my mouth was dry.

  “I trust you’re feeling better?” he asked. The cold, impassive facade slipped back into place, and I was once again looking at the perfectly still, stone face of a Greek god.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Better.” I debated on whether or not I should bring up the fact that I was pissed off at both him and his stupid father. Just because Tisiphone said that he was concerned didn’t mean that I believed her.

  I realized that while I was lost in my thoughts, the silence between us had stretched out to an uncomfortable length. Now, I didn’t know what to say.

  “You’ve been hovering around a lot, Plutus,” a voice said behind me. I turned to see Tisiphone smirking at the two of us.

  Plutus inclined his head slightly her way. “Tisiphone,” he said, his voice dangerously soft. “You know that my bedroom is next door.” I fought the urge to widen my eyes. I guess it made sense if I was supposed to act as a bodyguard for him, but the thought sizzled in my brain, an unexpected surge of attraction pulsed to the surface. “And I’m busy with my work,” he added. There was a note in his voice that was a warning cautioning her not to push it any further. I wondered what kind of powers the God of Wealth would have. If he did get really pissed off, would he turn her into a pile of gold?

  The image made me smile.

  She pretended to inspect a nail and let the silence fill the gap. “Uh huh.” Her eyes flashed up to me, and she grinned wickedly. “Sure.”

  He frowned in yet another awkward pause and I wished I was somewhere else. “Be seeing you, Callista,” he said coolly before he turned away and walked down the hallway.

  “Callie,” I called behind him, the habit as ingrained as a reflex. He must have not heard me, because he didn’t indicate otherwise. I shivered, watching him walk away with that slow uneven gait of his. I wondered what was exactly wrong with his foot but decided it would be rude to ask. I was here to save his ass not decipher his medical records.

  “Someone has a crush,” Tisiphone said. She was suddenly right next to me, and I jumped at her close proximity. She was watching him go, a bemused look on her face. “Join the club, Callie.”

  “What?” I asked, reeling on her angrily. “You think...? No. No, I don’t.” I shook my head. There might have been a little sizzle but it was nothing more.

  “You wouldn’t be the first,” she said, eying me suspiciously. “A lot of us here have had crushes on him. He’s slept with most of us. But the dude has such a complex about his blindness and limp, he won’t let anyone get close to him, so he’s still officially single.” She grinned looking like she was baring her teeth. “Be best to let it slide. Wouldn’t want to complicate a professional relationship, now would we?”

  I glared at her, thinking about the arrogant god. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing there.” He might be every bit as hot as Michelangelo’s David, but I was going to observe a strict hands-off policy. I looked down at my watch. “We need to get going if I’m going to get around to talking to some witnesses.”

  Tisiphone paused, visibly paling.

  “You really want to go to the dining hall first?” she asked, a worried note in her voice.

  “Why not?” I gestured for her to start walking with me, to which she sighed and started following me down the hallway.

  “It’s the very first place any of us looked,” she said a little too hastily. “You won’t find anything there that we haven’t.”

  I glared at her. “Well, I’m new to the case,” I reasoned. “I need to get all the facts before I can start piecing together the puzzle.”

  She frowned and I saw the muscle in her jaw working as she ground her teeth. There was a reason why she didn't want to return to the dining hall. I ignored her and took a different tack.

  “Why did you get stuck working with me?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I’m a Fury,” she said simply. “Basically a lowly Goddess of Vengeance. We’re the law enforcement around here. Hades thought that it would be good to pair us up.”

  I raised my eyebrows at that. “A cop and a Goddess of Vengeance?” She didn’t really look old enough or mature enough to have the experience to be in law enforcement but maybe Furies aged differently.

  “Yep.” She smacked her lips loudly on that single word, making me grimace. She didn’t seem to notice. “As someone who specializes in vengeance, I’m very good at finding the bad guys.” She gave me another wicked grin. “Simpatico and all that.”

  “So you’re an Afterlife cop?”

  “I suppose so,” she said doubtfully. “Look, I don’t want to be buddy-buddy cops with you. Furies work alone. I’m only doing this because the big guy ordered me to do it. I’m just here to follow you, offer some advice, and make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

  Ouch. She didn’t pull any punches. I wasn’t going to let that bother me though. I didn’t want to push my luck with gal who specialized in vengeance.

  I swallowed and said, “Understood.”

  “And as far as advice,” she added, “you’re going the exact opposite direction to the dining hall.”

  The dining hall was enormous. An entire block in San Francisco could fit inside with room left over for a bowling alley. Its ceiling stretched so high, I couldn’t see the top. Clouds floated by like we were looking up at open sky, and it was so high, it very well could have been. The long table and chairs were bathed in ripples of light.

  It was beautiful.

  I stood in the doorway of the hall, gaping at the spectacle, while Tisiphone pushed her way past me without regard for my personal space.

  “So as you know,” she said, gesturing around her, “the royal family was celebrating the Autumn Equinox on September 21st.” She didn't bother waiting for my stupid question. “It’s the changing of the seasons from Summer to Autumn. Lord Hades always hosts a large celebration to celebrate Persephone coming back from the surface.”

  “Sort of a welcome-back dinner,” I mused.

  Tisiphone gave me a mocking Cheshire-cat-sized smile. “A good way of putting it, yes.” She pointed to a table setting near the head of one end of the table. “Plutus was sitting there. When...a servant...” She grimaced, the words getting stuck in her throat. I looked at her questioningly. “When a...friend of mine named Barnabas tried the meal prior to serving it, as is procedure, he got sick and died. Almost immediately.” She pointed to a spot on the floor behind the chair. “He died right there. In my arms. Apparently, a poison meant to turn a god prince into a mortal kills lesser beings like us.”

  I watched her. Gone was the smile. Gone was her cockiness. She was mourning Barnabas. Judging by her desolate expression and the way she’d hesitated when she’d called him her friend, they might have been lovers. No wonder it was difficult for her to stand in this room.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  When she turned her gaze back to me, her eyes were steely blue, glistening with unshed tears. “I swore that I would take revenge on whoever killed Barnabas. And a promise of revenge from a Goddess of Vengeance...well, there's a reason why we're called that.” She brushed her eyes with the back of her hand. “So you see, Callie, that was why I was a good match for you. The Goddess of Vengeance, avenging her friend’s death. And you with whatever the hell you're doing.”

  A moment passed between us then. A moment of understanding. We weren’t that different. Perhaps we actually could be friends.

  “I'm really sorry, Tisiphone,” I mumbled. The pain between Ben and I still felt fresh, and he hadn't even died. It was only a breakup. Barnabas had died in her arms. I could only imagine the despair and the anger that must consume her.

  How long had they been lovers?

  She swallowed and straightened up, as if recovering her composure. She pointed to the table. “About ten minutes after Barnabas died, an assas
sin came and drove a sword through Plutus’ heart.”

  “What?” I asked, shocked. “Really?”

  She shrugged, and I felt the tension in the room ease a bit. Apparently, getting off the subject of her friend Barnabas buoyed her mood.

  “He’s immortal,” she said. As if I denser than a block of marble. “Of course a simple sword wouldn’t do the trick. After that, they killed the assassin and Hades tried to interrogate it. It was pretty twisted and was unable to answer the right questions.” I started to ask the next question, but she waved it off. “It was a Shadow Assassin, Callie, the result of a spell that can reanimate dead beings. They'll find a cursed, tortured soul and bring it back to life. And if we try to interrogate it, usually they have no idea who they are and what they're doing here. That’s why they’re used extensively. Stop asking questions, you’re getting annoying.”

  I frowned and didn’t pursue the matter, didn’t mention I hadn’t actually voiced a single question. Earlier, Hades had briefly mentioned the Shadow Assassins.

  Seeing where the attempt on Plutus’s life had happened brought home how much trouble he was in.

  I inspected the entire room. I looked at each chair, the table, the walls, and as far up as I could see into the ceiling. Nothing looked off. Despite what Tisiphone had requested, I was going to ask questions.

  “Are the doors on either side of the hall secure?”

  “Of course.”

  “Any broken or unlocked windows?””

  “Nope.”

  “Any idea who send the Shadow Assassin?”

  “That’s why you’re here.”

  Since I wasn’t finding anything useful, I input all of Tisiphone’s information into my tablet’s file and photographed every square inch of the dining hall, which took a long time. After six weeks, there was no use dusting for prints, especially if it was a Shadow Assassin that had tried to kill Plutus.

  It was an entirely different game we were playing.

  Cold cases were much harder to solve, on either side of the ground.

  “Wow,” I breathed, realizing the weight of this investigation.

 

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