The Taming of Hermes (Gods of Olympus Book 1)

by S. E. Babin

  When I was little, I always thought magic would solve all my problems. Either that or being a princess. Well, I wasn't a princess, but I was magical. Sort of. And it wasn't solving any of my problems. It was only adding to them.

  I headed back to the house with my car full of goods, intent on sleeping for a few hours until dark slipped over the horizon. Weird things happened when night time hit the Big Easy. I was going to be one of those weird things. One thing I did need to do was call Mike and ask him for a huge favor.

  One I wasn't sure he would grant me.

  I made sure my car and trunk were locked up tight before I headed inside. I fumbled with my cell phone and punched the speed dial to Mike. He answered on the second ring.

  "Eve? Everything okay?"

  I tossed my keys in the bowl on the table beside the door. "Yes. I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor."

  Thirty minutes later, Mike was standing in my living room, handsome and strong in his uniform, staring at me like I'd grown a third eye. "Are you insane?" he hissed.

  I shook my head.

  "I can't, Eve. I could lose my job."

  I nodded. "I understand. I knew it was a long shot."

  He rubbed the side of his stubble-roughened chin. "Why can't you just call the police in?"

  I sighed. "Mike, I've told you."

  "I know." He waggled his fingers around. "Ancient magic."

  The look I speared him with was enough to cow him. "Sorry. Uncalled for. You can't just go in like the SWAT team, Eve. You're going to get yourself killed."

  "I'm going to get myself killed either way. This gives me my best shot."

  In a few short steps, Mike was in front of me holding me by my arms. "Give me one good reason this guy deserves this."

  "He saved my life."

  Mike shook his head and scoffed. "If what you say is true, it was pretty easy for him. Eve, you're human. You have no magic to fight with."

  "You aren't telling me anything I haven't already thought of."

  He released me and turned his back. "This is insane," he muttered.

  "You've already said that."

  He spun back to me. "Because it is!"

  "It's okay. I figured you'd say no."

  Mike's jaw clenched. "This is madness."

  I said nothing.

  "The items you want are cataloged. Someone will notice if they're gone."

  "If we get him out, he can fix it."

  "If," he emphasized. "If we can do that."

  "I know I'm basically walking into a viper pit. But if I don't, I'm going to lose someone I care about very much, and the world…" I paused and gathered myself. "The world will change. And not for the better."

  Mike put his hat back on and headed over to the door. "I can't be part of this, Eve. I wish you luck." He opened it and the door shut softly behind him.

  Crap. Where the hell else was I going to get flash bangs?

  I flipped through all the contacts in my phone, searching for someone who could get me what I needed. So far, there was no one until...

  Jack McGuire.

  A crazy old man who served time in Vietnam and thought every single person was a government spy. Despite his ramblings, I happened to like the old guy. We'd met when he came into the library looking for a book on homesteading. I didn't have too many to share, but I was able to order some new stock. Once I called Jack back and showed him, we ended up being fast friends. Well...that's what I thought at least. Maybe he just barely tolerated me. I wasn't sure. I could get him to crack a smile every once in a while, and with a guy like him, I always called that a big win.

  I hesitated before dialing him. Would he think I was crazy? I snorted. No. This was the same guy I was pretty sure kept tin foil in buckets at his house. I pressed the dial button and put the phone up to my ear.

  "What?" a man barked into the earpiece.

  "Jack? This is Eve."

  "Eve." A pause. "The woman from the library?"

  "Yes." I took a deep breath, nervous about asking him. "I need a favor."

  Jack harrumphed. "Of course. A pretty girl never calls a man like me unless she needs a favor."

  I grinned. "It has to do with flash bangs."

  Silence rang over the line for a moment.

  "I'm in."

  "I knew you would be. Where can I meet you?"

  Jack rattled off an address, and we agreed to meet in forty-five minutes. I clicked off the phone and exhaled. If anyone would be able to get me what I needed, it would be Jack. The means might have been a little bit sketchy, but so was what I was about to do.

  Jack was a tall, barrel-chested fellow with a head full of white hair and a beard that wouldn't quit. I pulled my vehicle up to the massive iron gate in front of his house, and it opened right away. I had no doubts this guy was on a government watch list somewhere. I'd dressed in a pair of old comfortable jeans, tennis shoes, a t-shirt, and a hat that partially concealed my face. I had to snicker at myself. Usually, Jack was the one who was paranoid. Now, it was me.

  Once I pulled up to the surprisingly well-kept white ranch with the wrap around porch, I shut off the vehicle and hopped out. Jogging up to the door, I was poised to knock, but it opened, and a hand pulled me in before clicking the door shut.

  I stumbled, but a strong arm steadied me.

  "Whoa, girl," Jack said.

  I was glad to say he hadn't changed a bit in the last few months since I'd seen him. He wore an old red flannel with a pair of beat up blue jeans and yellow work boots. Jack rarely wore caps, so his white hair was plain for all to see.

  Motioning me over to the kitchen, he shoved a hot cup of coffee at me, and I took a seat. His bright blue eyes burned with interest. "Tell me what you need flash bangs for, girl."

  Before I drove here, I thought about what I wanted to say, and as much as I didn't want to sound like a crazy person, I didn't want to lie to this man. I suspected he was the kind who saw right through you. I didn't want to anger Jack, but I also didn't want to sound like I was the one who needed the tin foil.

  "It all started with a message," I began.

  When I finished, Jack was sipping his coffee, a thoughtful expression on his face. The silence dragged.

  "I know I must sound insane," I added lamely.

  "On the contrary," Jack said. “This is Louisiana. Magic grows thick in these bayous. The very air is saturated with it. I'm not surprised by the voodoo, but I gotta admit, I'm a little surprised by the whole Greek angle. What the hell is a Greek doing down here in the gumbo pit?"

  I was unsuccessful at hiding my smile. "He was the one tasked to deliver the message."

  "This fountain. It's real?"

  I shrugged. "Guess so. Otherwise, I wouldn't be in this situation.”

  Jack grunted at that. "A few years ago, I wouldn't have minded taking a swim in a fountain like that. But these bones are old, and I like to think I've gotten wiser." He pierced me with those eyes that had seen more than I ever would. "Who's helping you?"

  I bit my lip.

  One of Jack's bushy white eyebrows lifted. "Eve?"

  "No one," I admitted.

  "Now, girl, I think you're great, but there's no damn way I'm loading up your vehicle with flash bangs and tear gas and letting you leave here by yourself."

  I blinked. "I didn't ask for tear gas."

  "I know you didn't," Jack growled, "but you just proved my damn point because you need it. A flash bang is going to scare them and briefly incapacitate them. Tear gas is going to make them pour out of the damn house and land them on the front lawn." He shook his head. "I threw in some gas masks too."

  I hid my smile behind my mug.

  "I have it under control, Jack, but I appreciate your concern."

  "I'm coming with you."

  "No!" I protested immediately. "If I'm unsuccessful, I'll be going to jail."

  "If I'm with you, you won't be unsuccessful."

  I snorted with amusement. "People might die."

  Jack
set his mug down on the table and pierced me with a look. "Girl, I've seen death more than the damn Grim Reaper. You think anything scares me anymore?" He waved a hand. "Don't answer that. The answer is no. I ain't afraid of going to jail, and I sure as hell ain't afraid of some little girls playing voodoo."

  And that was how I got stuck with not only Jack McGuire, but two of his other elderly Vietnam buddies. It was like carpooling with a bunch of badass senior citizens. We agreed to meet a half mile away from the house at approximately two a.m. Midnight, according to everything I’d read, was considered the witching hour, so it was possible there would still be some people awake. If we could catch most of them while sleeping, our odds of success would be better.

  Although, with the elderly men dressed in cargo pants with camo paint tagging along, maybe our odds would increase a little.

  I couldn't stop grinning the whole way home. Even though I knew what we were about to do was serious, I couldn't stop thinking about crabby ol' Jack and his death wish. If more people were like him, the world would be a much better place.

  A couple hours later, I finally slid under the sheets to get a few hours of shut-eye. What we were doing was tantamount to suicide, especially since magic use was likely to be cloaked, but we weren't using magic. We were going to wake up the entire damn neighborhood.

  But I didn't care. I was getting Hermes out of there—one way or the other.

  Hopefully, he was holding on to his secrets even through everything he’d been going through.

  I shut my eyes, but slept fitfully, tossing and turning until the alarm went off at 1:30 a.m. I groaned, but rolled out of bed and immediately started to get dressed. If I laid there for even a second, I knew I would fall back asleep. I was mentally and physically exhausted.

  If a young woman and three senior citizens dressed like the A-team didn't rouse any suspicion in New Orleans, I wasn't sure anything could. The men had loaded an old Ford Bronco full of supplies. I left my vehicle in a grocery store parking lot and jumped into the old Ford with them. We drove around the back of the house one street over. The street lights were broken out, which helped cover our tracks a little bit. Jack opened the bed of the truck quietly and pulled out a rolling hand truck. He loaded two large boxes on it, tried to pull it, and the racket was so loud, he cursed, took them off, put the hand truck back in the vehicle, and plopped the boxes in his friend’s arms. Both men were quiet. Big and quiet. The first one, a man named Robert Steele, had biceps like Mr. T and absolutely zero smile lines on his face. The other man, however, wore a smile like a second skin. Bright green eyes twinkled with amusement as he got a load of me.

  "No wonder Jack was excited about this. It isn't every day he gets to work with a beauty like you."

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing out loud.

  Jack, on the other hand, smacked him on the back of the head. "Ain't nobody got time for flirting. We're helping Eve with a problem. I owe her one."

  He didn't, but I didn't correct him.

  The man, aptly nicknamed Chuckles, didn't lose his grin. He took the box and winked at me.

  "Let's go," Jack whispered.

  We crept through the neighborhood and back through the alleys. We were lucky almost the entire time until we came upon a yard with dogs. They immediately sent up a chorus of barks. Without even blinking, Jack motioned to Robert. The big man pulled out something from the small backpack he wore and tossed it over the fence. Seconds later, the dogs quieted down.

  "What was that?" I hissed, concerned they killed the dog.

  Robert's slow blink didn't comfort me.

  "Besides American beef?" Jack whispered back, amusement in his voice. "Benadryl. One of the safest things on the market. The dogs will be asleep in minutes. Until then, they'll be occupied with the meat."

  "Oh."

  "Yep," Jack agreed. "One of the many reasons you aren't doing this alone."

  I didn't acknowledge that arrogance, but I couldn't help but agree with him.

  We finally made it to the back of the house from my vision. Jack motioned for us to duck down, then reached into one of the boxes Robert had set down and pulled out four canisters. "Take these, and make sure you keep it with you. If things go to hell, activate it, and you'll be able to get away." His gaze landed on me. "As long as you're fast."

  I took one and stared at it dubiously. "What is it?"

  Chuckles snorted. "Smoke bomb."

  "Ah." I'd seen them before. "Like magicians use?"

  Jack rolled his eyes. "Strike two."

  I clamped my lips shut.

  "Now, Robert is going to check the front door and jimmy the lock if he needs to."

  I held up a hand. "Wait. Let me check the house." Shutting my eyes, I opened my senses like Rainie had taught me. A faint pulsing of red power outlined the house. "If you touch the door, it's going to sound an alarm."

  Jack gave me a curious look. "How do you know that?"

  I waggled my fingers. "Magic."

  "So, we kick it in," said Chuckles. "Instead of trying to be all quiet about it."

  I nodded. "I agree. We're going to have to go in quick. Break the door down and throw the tear gas in through the windows, even if it means shattering them."

  Jack produced some duct tape and crept up the back stairs. But this wasn't the regular tape you saw on the rolls. He had strips of it with backing on the side. This kept the noise down. "Clever," I murmured.

  With deft hands, Jack taped the back of the door up so none of the women would be able to get out easily.

  "I'll leave Chuckles back here to keep watch. If anyone tries to get out, he'll catch them."

  I nodded to the man with the permanent smile. "Thank you."

  He winked at me. "I've done a lot worse for a pretty girl in my day."

  Robert, Jack, and I moved over to the front door. My heart pounded in my chest, and my mouth ran dry. This was absolutely insane.

  But I couldn't beat them with magic, and we all knew it.

  With a nod to Robert, the big man crept up the steps, stood to his immense height, and shoved a boot right through the door frame. It splintered with a loud crack.

  And all hell on Earth broke loose after that.

  With his teeth, Jack pulled the pin of the flash bang but kept his finger on the pressure trigger. It would be only moments before the women woke up, and we didn't want to waste any of our supplies.

  It was less than moments. The young girl, Eliza, was the first to come downstairs. Her face was alert but also ragged with lack of sleep. Robert stepped up to her, hit her once in the face, and the poor girl fell like a stone. Dragging her to the side of the room, he secured her with duct tape, and I told him to make sure he covered her mouth too. I didn't want her whispering any deadly mumbo jumbo.

  The older, larger woman came down next, more cautious, and called for Eliza a few times. Directly behind her was another woman we'd never seen before. We pressed our bodies against the side of the wall, and at Jack's thumbs up, we slid the gas masks over our faces. I glanced at Eliza with pity, but nothing we were doing would kill her. She'd be covered in snot and tears, but she'd be okay.

  Eliza quickly came to, and when she realized what had happened, her nostrils flared with rapid breaths, and she squeaked against the tape. Once the two women were downstairs, but before they saw us, Jack released his finger from the flash bang, and Robert threw a canister of tear gas. I shut my eyes and thanked Jack again for thinking of the ear plugs.

  Both women wailed in surprise, and their hands went over their ears as they screamed. Robert shot them both with a tranq gun.

  This was easy. We all knew it was going to be a lot worse when we got upstairs.

  I wondered when Marie and Isha had started working together, or if they'd been together the entire time. One would be much easier to handle. Two would make our lives a lot more interesting, and not in a good way unless we got lucky. I couldn't see anything over the smoke and gas, but Jack grabbed my hand and led me
up the stairs. Several steps in, the air cleared, but we kept our gas masks on for the moment.

  I didn't see Robert anywhere, and when I motioned to Jack, he gave me a sharp shake of his head. As in, don't worry about it.

  Okay then.

  Jack cleared a few rooms; then we came to the last one—the one where Hermes should have been. With a cautious hand, Jack twisted the doorknob and allowed the door to open.

  Nothing happened.

  He held up a hand for me to wait.

  Seconds ticked by.

  "You've made enough noise to wake the dead. You might as well come in." Marie's voice rang out through the room.

  Jack shook his head and took one step out. He peeked around the corner, and I stepped up, doing the same. We removed our masks at the same time and tossed them to the floor. Whatever magic she had happening in here, the air was clear and still.

  The women sat together at a small round table drinking tea, of all things. Hermes hung at the top of the ceiling, the soft splatter of blood the only sound he made.

  I gasped in horror. Isha shrugged. "He won't talk. I told him the pain would stop if he did."

  "You will pay for this," I bit out, heartsick at the sight.

  "Oh, child. No, I won't. Come sit over here and have some tea with us."

  "I'd rather die."

  "You're going to die anyway," Marie snapped. "You might as well die with tea in your belly."

  Jack stood behind me, one hand resting on my shoulder.

  "I see you've brought the geriatric A-team," Isha purred. "Good on you. We can't all have as many friends as we want, but it looks like you've been scraping the bottom of the barrel."

  I bristled at that, but at Jack's squeeze, I stayed silent and slowly allowed the magic to pour over my body, wrapping me in the defensive shield. I'd talked to Jack beforehand about my ability and told him to make sure he had a hand on me. As long as he did, I thought I'd be able to extend my shield. But if he stepped away, I wasn't powerful enough to maintain it for two people.