Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  “It wasn't what it looked like,” I said. “I was just sparring with Ares.”

  “Yeah, I bet you were,” Plutus retorted.

  I stopped. “That's not fair,” I said, my voice wavering.

  Plutus paused this time, sighed, and turned back to me. “It doesn't matter anyways,” he said softly.

  That's what Ares said.

  “Stop this!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air. “I can't fucking take this.” And I turned on my heel to leave him there. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's not looking behind me when I was trying to make a point. And granted, Plutus didn't say anything to me as I walked off, but I wasn't about to turn around.

  Nothing would ever happen between us. It couldn't.

  “How was your father?”

  I jumped, mid-walk, and turned to see Hades. I had been in such turmoil I didn't see him fall into step next to me as I was storming off.

  “He was good,” I said cryptically. My throat closed at the thought of my dad on the fields alone. Man, today was trying to kill me emotionally.

  “Anything of interest?” he asked. I watched him raise a quizzical eyebrow. Somehow, he had heard that I was upset after meeting my father.

  Back to work. Even if I was trying to protect someone who thought I was a hussy. Screw Plutus and his stupid assumptions and jealousy.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice sounding thick, even to myself. “I might have some more people to interview.”

  Hades raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I need a favor. Can we go into your office?” Considering that I truly believed there was a mole in the palace, I didn't want prying ears to hear my theory.

  Hades caught the seriousness in my tone. “Of course.”

  A few minutes later, we stood in Hades’ office. He shut the door and closed the blinds to the large wall of windows. He knew the gravity of the situation, so I was able to let out a breath of relief.

  Hades clasped his hands on his desk. “What do you need from me?”

  “A list of the demigods. All of them. Children of the Olympians, children of minor gods, any that could be wanting to take their place as a god.” I looked intently at Hades. “Is that doable?”

  The color drained from Hades' face at my request. I hadn't expected that.

  “Why...” Hades’ voice was slightly strangled. He swallowed and spoke, this time stronger. “Why do you want that?”

  “It's a possibility I haven't investigated yet,” I said. “And it's the only path I can think of pursuing now.”

  Hades was silent for a moment, considering my request. He sat back, and let out a loud sigh. “All right,” he said at length. “I'll get you a list. Do you want all of them? The living and the dead?”

  I hadn't considered that. “Can a dead demigod threaten Plutus? You would know better than anyone.”

  The corners of Hades' mouth quirked up. “It's unlikely.”

  “Then I'll start with the living.” It seemed as good a start as any. From the way Hades made it sound, it was going to be a long list. “If I can't find anything from there, I'll go through the dead ones.”

  “I'll have my secretary email you a comprehensive list. It might take her some time. She'll have to contact Ilithiya to get all the details. The others won't be so forthcoming about their own children.”

  “Who's Ilithiya?”

  “The Goddess of Birth. She's usually around to relieve birthing pains, but like a good midwife, she keeps track of everyone born.”

  I made a mental note to look up Ilithiya later.

  “I warn you, Callie, it will be a long list. My siblings were never very, ah, monogamous.”

  “That's all right,” I said with a nod. “I have nothing better to do.” Truly, I didn't, other than working out or keeping an eye on Plutus. At least it would be something different.

  I stood up to leave. “Oh, and Callie,” Hades said quietly, refusing to meet my eyes, “the information in this list is confidential.”

  “All right.”

  “No, I mean, there's names on there of children who do not need to know who their godly parent is. There are children on there that the partners of those parents don't need to know about. In other words,” he looked at me with steely eyes “don't go telling gods and goddesses that their partner has slept around.”

  I swallowed nervously.

  “Especially,” Hades added, even more quietly, “especially Persephone.”

  I blinked. “You...have other children?” I asked, my voice squeaking.

  He nodded gravely. “Yes, and my wife does not need to know about them. Nor does Plutus.”

  I watched him, horrified. “You haven't told your wife yet?”

  He started massaging his temples. It was for show; I doubted gods could get headaches. “Yes,” he said. “Our marriage is already rocky. Please, Callie. Don't tell Persephone or my son.”

  I felt the flush hit my cheeks. I was getting angry and I shouldn't. I needed Hades to send me the list.

  “Think about all those children you've abandoned, Hades,” I said bitterly. “Just think about them.” I couldn't help thinking about myself, growing up without a father. I missed him like I missed a limb or a best friend. And I couldn't believe he'd knowingly left his children behind.

  “I think about them every day,” he said. “I know that they miss their father. But I can't do anything for them. Not with my duties.”

  I wanted to say more, to beat him into a pulp, to make him pay for abandoning his children. He had really shown his true colors since I'd been there. First blackmailing me, then this. He really was a prick.

  “I'll be waiting for the email.”

  And I left him there. I didn't care if I pissed him off. I couldn't stand to be in his office one minute more.

  12

  I was lying on my stomach in my bed when I heard a tentative knock at the door. I was facing away from it, so I closed my eyes and groaned. I didn't want to deal with anyone. I feared I had a migraine coming on and dealing with stuff was going to make it worse.

  “If you're not an email, go away,” I croaked. I stuffed a pillow around my head, trying to block out my intruder.

  “No,” a soft voice said. I fought the urge to groan again: it was one of the people I didn't want to talk to, especially since he had spurned me in our last conversation. Plutus.

  I turned and glared at him. “When someone says 'go away', that's usually because they want to be left alone.”

  He sighed and shifted his feet. “You should know me well enough to know that I try to respect your wishes. But I need help, and it's kind of your job to do that sort of thing.” There was an earnestness in his voice that wasn't there before.

  I narrowed my eyes. I wasn't about to give in so easily, especially after the way he treated me when Ares and I were sparring. “What sort of help?”

  “It's Cerberus. He's missing.”

  I sat up. “What?” I found it hard to believe that the gangly, awkward puppy would stray too far from Plutus. The dog loved him with all his goofy heart. And while the palace was large, as Plutus' constant companion, Cerberus just wouldn't run away. “When was the last time you saw him?”

  Plutus helplessly held up his hands. “After you left Tisiphone and me out there. I played with Cerberus a bit to give you your space, but then I decided to come in...to...apologize.” He mumbled those last two words and I raised an eyebrow. That part was news to me, especially with how he acted.

  Not a good apology, then.

  “So I tied Cerberus up outside. And then after I found you...with him, I went out to go find Cerberus and all I got was one of his collars. Undone.” He swallowed, clearly concerned. And to be honest, I would be too. He held up the lone dog collar. I frowned.

  “Surely one of the servants moved him,” I reasoned.

  “I hope so. I've checked the grounds. I need to go outside to check, and Mom would have my head if I went out without protection.”

&
nbsp; “Hence why you need my help.”

  “Hence why I need your help,” he repeated with a nod. “Please, Callista.”

  I stood. “Sure, on one condition.”

  He looked tired as he asked, “What?”

  “You call me Callie, like I've asked many times.”

  He gave me a mirthless grin. “Unlikely, but I'll try.”

  I guessed that was the best I was going to get. I pulled on my shoes and, as an afterthought, tucked my God Gun into the waist of my jeans. I really need to get a holster.

  I followed him out of my room. “I'm sure he's fine, Plutus,” I said. “I bet he's out terrorizing some poor nymph or something.” Although my words sounded hollow to my own ears, I offered a weak smile.

  We didn't say anything as we moved through the hallways. Plutus didn't offer up any apologies and I wasn't about to start talking about that or making excuses for myself.

  When we stepped outside he turned right, past the entrance and limped to a post with a chain link running from it. “This was where I left him. So he could pretend to guard the palace.”

  I knelt by the chain and picked it up, running each link through my hands. Cerberus was set free. By who or what, I didn't know. My blood pumped harder, the pulse of it in my ears once again; my senses heightened. My gut told me that something was wrong. Judging by Plutus' reticence, he felt it too.

  “Stay by me,” I commanded, getting to my feet.

  “Should I alert the servants?” he asked.

  “Not yet. If someone has Cerberus, scrambling the palace would alert them too.” I felt sick to my stomach, thinking about what could have happened to the lovable dog. “You've already searched the palace and the grounds?” At his nod, I chewed my bottom lip, a bad habit that reared its ugly head when I mentally flipped through different scenarios. “Let's see if we can find him.”

  Hopefully he's all right, I thought.

  The palace grounds were surrounded by a three-meter-high stone wall that wrapped around its perimeter. Daedalus still maintained his guard tower at the entrance, but there was a narrow bit of land between the walls and the Styx and Acheron rivers. We searched this area first, walking the outside bit of land. I couldn't help but wonder if someone had drowned the poor dog in one of the rivers. I didn't know what would happen then, but I didn't like that thought.

  Plutus kept up with me, so fought the urge to jog. If someone had stolen Cerberus, I didn't want to think of what they might do to Plutus. I was so worried about Cerberus, I had to keep reminding myself to look after Plutus.

  I learned a long time ago that in order to successfully track down a criminal, you have to think like one. Different things that could have happened to the pup filtered through my mind, each more horrible than the one before it. I crossed off the more preposterous ones like kidnap and ransom. If someone had stolen the dog, I feared they wanted to make a statement.

  As we were about to turn a corner to the back of the palace, Plutus held out an arm, blocking me. “Wait,” he said softly and even though he was already pale, I saw the remaining color drain from his face. The hand in front of me clenched into a fist. He must have been able to sense what was ahead. “Wait.”

  “Plutus, let me see.”

  I pushed through his arm and walked around the corner. I stopped cold.

  Someone had wanted to make a statement.

  “No,” I said in disbelief, walking towards the mess. “No.”

  Cerberus had been impaled through the chest with a steel rod driven directly into the stone wall that bordered the palace. All three heads hung limply, blood dripping from each muzzle. All four paws dangled above the ground. He was dead. Someone strong, someone powerful had to have stuck that rod through his chest, impaling him to the wall.

  Plutus wouldn't have come across him if he'd been searching on the interior of the wall.

  Gingerly, I reached out, and lifted the head closest to me by holding it by the jaw. While I could tell that Cerberus had been here for about an hour or two, I couldn't think who would have done this to the dog.

  “Damn,” Plutus said, anger rippling underneath his words. He pet Cerberus' heads, mumbling some words to him so low, I couldn't hear.

  “I'm...I'm sorry, Plutus,” I crooned. He shied away from my hand as I reached out to touch his shoulder.

  “Don't,” he warned.

  I retracted my hand.

  It was hard to believe that only a couple hours ago, Cerberus had tackled me as I headed back to the palace. He'd been a happy, healthy, alive puppy then. Not this.

  “Is there...any way of bringing him back?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

  “No,” he said, his voice sounding strangled. “That's against the rules.”

  Of course. As the son of the Lord of the Underworld, he knew the rules better than anyone. Cerberus was dead and gone. I'd never again be able to go for a jog with that puppy.

  “Plutus,” I said, my throat closing up. I was in danger of crying again, the second time today, when I hadn't cried in years. “Plutus, we have to let the palace know. If whoever did this is still around, we need to find him. Can you contact them with...I don't know...your powers?”

  At first I thought, he didn't hear me, because he made no indication he had. I reached out touched him. “Plutus—”

  “I heard you,” he snapped. “And yes. I already did that.”

  I bit my lip and grabbed the hand that was petting Cerberus. “I'll have to investigate this, Plutus. We're looking at a crime scene. Let me make sure that I have everything documented, all right?”

  He whipped around to me, blinking furiously. “I'll have Tisiphone bring your tablet,” he said softly. “You're going to need that.”

  And then he turned away from the mess.

  I gulped down some air and searched around the scene. The rod went right through the hellhound's heart. There was no telling if he had died instantly or a minute or two after he was stabbed. I hoped it was the former, otherwise he would have suffered greatly before he died.

  The rod was about an inch in diameter, made out of steel, and sticking about two meters out from the wall. I didn't know how far it had been shoved in, but it had to be enough for it to be able to hold up a fifty-pound puppy.

  I would have given anything for a pair of gloves and the usual kit I brought on investigations. Fingerprint powder, gloves, pliers, tweezers, plastic baggies—everything that made investigations sterile and scientific.

  I needed crime scene tape. Plutus had alerted the palace, so there was going to be a circus here soon and I had no way of blocking them off.

  My eyes scanned over everything, memorizing every detail, every little bit and piece I could manage.

  Whoever did this obviously had the strength of a god. They also knew what they were doing not to leave this massacre behind. Or they didn't leave behind traces anyway. Did monsters or gods or demigods leave any sort of trace? Otherwise, if they muddled in mortal affairs, they would have been found out a long time ago.

  I was way in over my head.

  I gently moved Cerberus' heads. His mouths were all slack, their tongues lolling about uselessly. “I'm so sorry, Cerberus,” I crooned softly.

  I noticed something tucked into the collar of his head furthest from me. I initially missed it because it was hidden from view. Protocol be damned, I reached out and plucked it from the collar.

  It was a folded up newspaper clipping. Gingerly, I unfolded it. When I saw what it was, I fought the urge to drop it. Adrenaline filled me.

  How? How had someone gotten this?

  It was cut from a newspaper article that featured picture of me dressed up in a gown for a police ball three months before I died, right before Ben and I separated. Even in black and white, I looked unhappy. In any other case, it would be because I hated dressing up for functions like this. In this case, I was especially unhappy because on my arm, looking as smug and as debonair as he always did, was billionaire Stephen Cross. Stephen Cross had
been the subject of an intense investigation when I was alive.

  Why had they put this onto Cerberus?

  “Oh my God,” I said in shock.

  Stephen Cross was a playboy who lived in a penthouse in San Francisco, sipping champagne from huge bottles and sleeping with every woman he came across. He was a handsome man in his mid-thirties who’d built an $8 billion fortune from nothing. He'd been raised by his mother, because his deadbeat father had disappeared before he was even born. He was considered San Francisco’s most eligible bachelor and was constantly doing things for charity. The ladies loved him, the men were jealous of him, and he seemed like the nicest man you’d ever want to meet.

  The thing was, his global, multi-billion-dollar business, Cross Inc., was linked to dirty money. Drugs, human trafficking, slave labor in other countries, blood diamonds—the works, really. If there was some way to get money illegally, Cross Inc. was involved. I shuddered at the memory.

  Cross Inc. came across my desk because there was something suspicious with their accounting. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t have gone to a homicide cop, except his investment banker was dead. After looking into it, I found that one of the smaller businesses bought by Cross Inc. was responsible for a human sex trade ring. I made some arrests from the company and shut it down. Stephen Cross made all the correct apologies, talked to the right people, and made a considerable donation to the city. He was untouchable.

  Except something else came up. There was drug money in another one of Cross Inc.’s corporations. And then another. And then another. As a homicide detective, you don’t believe in coincidences. Oh sure, the people who were arrested were directly responsible for the things that were happening were indeed guilty and responsible. Most of Cross Inc.’s little companies were involved in some bad stuff. I knew that Stephen Cross was behind all of this.

  After every arrest, every hiccup, Stephen Cross evaded jail. He was untouchable. I talked to the Police Commissioner, who had had it out for me for my entire police career. He even threatened to discipline me for stalking an innocent civilian. Everyone thought I was obsessed.