by Gary Jonas
“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” I said. “You’re a siren, and some record producer wants to sign you to his label, and knows enough to get Mako Clansmen to fetch you for him?”
“He knows I’m a siren.”
“Why the shark dudes?”
“We’re on an island,” she said. “They’re convenient.”
“How did he know about them?”
“He’s a god. He wants to regain his power in the world, and he thinks I can help him with that.”
“Hell, I’m a rock god myself,” I said.
“Apollo is a real god. You’re just a … I don’t know what you are.”
“Apollo? That’s the best you can come up with?”
“He’s the god of music, Brett.”
“He’s famous, of course. He had space missions named after him. You’re telling me he’s living in Nashville?”
“He works in Nashville.”
“So he’s a god, but he has a day job?”
“Gods get their power from people believing in them. He’s believed to be a myth now, and he wants to change that.”
“By recording a siren.”
“He has the muses, too.”
I grinned. “So he’s putting a band together. Think he needs a guitarist?”
“He plays a lyre.”
“He needs to get with the times. Nobody plays a lyre these days. Well, maybe Sting.”
“And now Apollo.”
A woman shrieked on the other side of the diner. I turned to see Kevin pulling her shirt down to try and expose her large breasts. She was wearing a bra, much to Kevin’s consternation, and she pulled her shirt back into position.
“I don’t know what happened,” the woman said, clutching her shirt and keeping her arms tight to her chest. “I’ve never had that kind of wardrobe malfunction!”
Kevin shrugged and trotted back to me. “She had boulder holders. I hate that.”
He hopped up on the table and nearly knocked my coffee cup over. Fortunately, it was empty.
“What’s going on?” Helen asked. “Did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“The cup. I don’t feel an earthquake, and you’re too far away to mess with that woman over there.”
“What you gonna tell her?” Kevin asked.
“Truth be told,” I said, “there’s a demon sitting on the table. He’s a horny little red-skinned bastard.”
“Don’t call me red-skinned,” Kevin said. “It’s racist.”
“Your skin is red, dumbass.”
Helen blinked a few times. “I hope you’re talking to your imaginary friend,” she said.
“You don’t see him?”
She shook her head. “Can’t say as I do.”
“Right.” I studied her, but she would make a good poker player. “He’s not imaginary. Unfortunately, it seems I’m the only one who can see him.”
“Where is he?” she asked.
“Sitting right between us.”
“Point to his head.”
I pointed.
Helen threw a punch at the air where I indicated.
Her fist connected and Kevin fell off the table into my lap.
“Okay,” Helen said. “I felt that. I believe you.”
Kevin crawled under the table. “I felt it too,” he said. “That hurts. Let’s see what she has under here.”
“And you say you can’t see him,” I said. “I’m not buying it.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Helen said.
“Me?” I asked.
“Mmmph!” Kevin said.
“Oh, him,” I said, getting it.
“He’s the one who lifted my dress earlier, right?”
I nodded.
“I thought it was the wind at the time, but it felt different.”
“Mmmph!” Kevin said again.
I leaned down to look under the table. Helen had her legs tightly crossed around Kevin’s head.
“He tried to get under my dress again.”
“You’ve got him by the head,” I said, sitting up.
Her lips tightened, and Kevin gave a muffled grunt.
She flinched.
“Ow!” she said. “The bastard zapped my ankle.”
Kevin pulled free and bolted to the center of the diner.
“She tried to break my neck!” he shouted.
“Serves you right,” I said, then realized that if Helen couldn’t see him, even though I wasn’t facing her, she might think I was talking to her. “Not you. Him.”
“Where is he?”
“Center of the room hiding under a table.”
She looked toward the center of the room, and I had a hard time believing that she couldn’t see him. She leaned back and directed her gaze my way. She winked. “If he comes near me again, tell me. I’ll smack him upside the head.”
“Cool.”
“Why do you have a demon?”
“It’s not like I asked for him to be here. My father sicced him on me. I’m not good enough with magic to send him away yet.”
“Your father’s an asshole.”
“I keep saying that.”
“Well, this has been interesting, but I think it’s time for me to head back to my hotel.”
“Wait,” I said and reached across the table to touch her hand.
She pulled her hand away. “For what?”
“I’m supposed to help people. It’s one of the things my father set up. I work with my cousin, Sabrina. She’s the lead singer of my band. And I have a witch on my father’s payroll, too. Her name is Lakesha. Oh, and I have a vampire friend. Maybe we can help you with your little god problem.”
“No offense, Brett, but if you can’t even get rid of a simple nuisance demon, what makes you think you can face a Greek god?”
“He’s clearly not at full strength.”
“The demon or Apollo? Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. Either way, you’re out of your league.”
“I helped you with the shark dudes.”
“Why do you want to help me?”
“I have to help people or my father will cut me off, and if I’m going to be helping someone, why not help a beautiful woman who thinks she’s a siren?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“You think I’m in this to get laid?”
“Are you?”
“Well, I wouldn’t turn you down, but no, that’s not it.”
“Then why?”
“I’ll give you an excellent reason,” I said raising my right forefinger. “You can hit the dumbass demon, and I like watching him take a beating.”
“You can’t hit him?”
“Not so far.” I realized I was losing because she could hit the demon and I couldn’t which proved she was better equipped to handle it on her own. Except that I had helpers. “Look, at least meet the team. We can protect you from the shark men while you’re in Galveston.”
“Apollo will be here Monday afternoon.”
“Then maybe we can kill him for you.”
“You can’t kill a god, Brett.”
“You don’t know that. Has anyone ever shot him with a machine gun?”
“I don’t need him killed. I just need him to stop trying to recruit me.”
“We can help.”
“Is the vampire male or female?”
“Michael is a dude.”
“But you work with two women?”
“Yeah.”
She considered that for a moment. “Fine. I’ll meet them. I don’t see how it can help, but it can’t hurt.”
“Awesome. Does one in the afternoon work for you?”
“Why so late? Are you going to church?”
“Hell no. I don’t like to get up before noon.”
She grinned. “One o’clock will be fine.”
I pulled a business card out of my pocket and handed it to her. “The address is on here.”
She slid out of the seat, tucked the card into her clutch purse
, then gave me a nod. “Until tomorrow,” she said, and walked out the door.
Kevin scrambled out from under the table. “She’s quite a bitch,” he said. “I like her. Think she’d be willing to give me a spanking?”
CHAPTER SIX
Michael sat on the sofa, but Sabrina sat in a chair across the room from him. A movie played on the TV, and they both looked away from the screen when I entered the house through the front door.
“Hey, guys,” I said.
Kevin darted around me, and slid to a stop in front of the carpet. He looked down at Mangani, and took a step back when she twitched toward him. He got down on his hands and knees.
“You didn’t notice me before,” he said.
Mangani twitched.
“Oh, you like that?” He patted Mangani and she did a little flutter. Kevin looked up at me. “She likes me, she really likes me.”
I ignored his pitiful attempt at Sally Field, and waved to Sabrina. She didn’t answer me. She folded her arms and stared at the TV, though the set was either muted or they were watching some shitty experimental minimalist French film where the director felt sound was overrated. There weren’t any lights on, so the flickering images from the screen threw soft colors over the room. Michael gave me a shrug.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Not in my view,” Michael said.
“Typical,” Sabrina said.
“Did I miss something?” I asked.
“She’s pissed,” Michael said.
“What about?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Sabrina asked, her voice accusatory.
“You keep saying it’s nothing.”
“When a woman says it’s nothing, it’s always something,” I said.
“I know that,” Michael said. “But I’m not making a big deal over that pop star she’s getting so wet about on the damn TV.”
“He’s dreamy.”
“Nobody’s ever heard one of his songs.”
“Don’t change the subject. You know what you did.”
I didn’t want to get involved here. “Well, in that case, I’ll just head upstairs to smoke a joint, and you two can have fun smoldering.”
Kevin moved to get up, but Mangani did a little roll as she reached for him, and he bent to lick her.
“Gross,” I said.
Kevin looked up at me. “What? She likes it. You should try it sometime.”
“Pass.”
“You talking to me or Sabrina?” Michael asked.
“Neither.”
I flipped the upstairs light on and went up to leave the heavy silence between Michael and Sabrina behind. What I wanted right then was to get high and to escape the demon for a bit. I’d cut back on the weed because Lakesha could always smell it on me, and I was tired of her giving me shit about it. But I liked it, so I didn’t want to let go completely.
The damn demon followed me up the stairs.
“What ya doing?” he asked.
“Go away,” I said. I went to the closet, took down a wooden box I kept on the shelf, and unlocked it. Inside, I still had rolling papers, a selection of roach clips, a lighter, and most of a dime bag. I rolled a quick joint, and went out on the upstairs deck to kick back and smoke my way into peace and tranquility. I set the box on the deck beneath my lawn chair, and lit up.
The demon followed me, grinning. He hopped up on the deck railing and swung his legs back and forth. The light from the house behind mine threw his shadow at me. They kept their backyard illuminated all night because they said their dog was afraid of the dark. I didn’t buy it, but it meant I didn’t have to use the lights on the deck.
“Go back inside, Kevin. I need some solo time.”
He grinned. “No,” he said. “I want to watch.”
I rolled my eyes and took a hit.
The taste of sour milk mixed with lima beans assaulted my taste buds. I worked up some saliva and spit over the railing. If I’d been thinking, I’d have spit in Kevin’s direction, but he was off to my right. I held the joint out in front of me and stared at it.
It looked fine.
I touched the rolled tip to my tongue. Sour milk.
“What the hell?”
Kevin chuckled.
“Did you mess with my pot?”
He shook his head.
“Liar.”
I sniffed the joint. It smelled normal. Maybe it was the papers. I started to flick it away, but Kevin held out his hand. I dropped it into his palm. He took a hit and grinned.
I rolled a fresh joint.
Lit up.
Tasted.
Sour milk and lima beans. I hate lima beans. Sour milk is nasty too.
Spit.
I took a fresh rolling paper out, licked it. Tasted like paper. I checked the herbs. Smelled and looked normal. I rolled a fresh joint in the paper I’d just tasted, lit it up, and as soon as it touched my lips, the nasty flavor struck me again.
Kevin laughed.
“Did you do this? Did you piss on my stash or something?”
He shook his head. “Good idea, but I didn’t think of it. I didn’t know where your stash was. Get past the flavor and keep smoking. I want to watch.”
“I can’t get past the flavor,” I said and flicked the joint at him.
It bounced off his forehead and landed on the deck. He hopped down, picked it up and stuck it in his mouth. He inhaled deeply and held it. “Tastes good to me,” he said trying not to exhale. “I like it. ‘Ere,” and he handed it to me.
I held up a hand. “What did you do?”
He blew a smoke ring at me. It smelled wonderful. He gave me a big grin, took another hit. “What makes you think I did anything.”
“My father put you up to it.”
He nodded. “Try it now,” he said. “It’s good shit.”
“It tastes like shit.”
“To you. Are you sure you don’t want to smoke some more? Maybe it’s an acquired taste.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “If I can get past the nasty taste, it won’t get me high.”
“Bingo.”
“Are you enjoying it?”
“Oh yeah.”
I reached under the chair and grabbed the box. When I stood, I shoved it into his midsection. He grabbed the railing so he didn’t go over. I was surprised the box and my hand didn’t go through him. He smiled at me, and I realized he wanted the box so he solidified to accept it. I tried to slap him upside the head, but my hand went through him now. Figures.
“It’s all yours,” I said, and went back inside.
He didn’t follow, so I closed and locked the door. That probably wouldn’t keep him out, but it made me feel better for the moment. It was time for my favorite activity. Sleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As soon as I walked in the door at Something’s Brewing, Lakesha’s metaphysical bookstore, I knew the day was going to blow chunks.
“Did you get the cat food?” Lakesha asked without even a hello. She stood behind the counter dusting the back shelves where she kept crystal balls and statuettes. She was a big woman, who seemed to like everyone but me. Her black cat, Isis, sat on the countertop, and swiveled her head toward me, narrowing her gaze in disapproval.
“What cat food?” I asked. Kevin entered the store behind me, but Lakesha couldn’t see him.
Isis looked down at Kevin and meowed.
Could the cat see him?
“Hey, pretty kitty,” Kevin said.
Isis meowed.
“Yeah, I’m supposed to mess with the stupid human,” Kevin said with a nod.
Lakesha tossed the duster on the shelf beneath the cash register. “I left you a message, Brett. Isis is down to only the salmon and beef flavor, and she won’t eat that two days in a row, so I need you to pick up some chicken and tuna or some of the turkey flavor.”
“I didn’t get your message.”
Isis thumped her tail on the counter.
“Well, get your ass in your ca
r and go get some. She’s hungry.”
“I have a client meeting us here in a few minutes.”
The cat growled. Lakesha scratched Isis behind the ears. “I know he’s worthless, but if you scratch out his eyes, he won’t be able to read the labels on the cans.”
“The cat isn’t a fan,” Kevin said. “Cool.”
“Shut up,” I said.
“Don’t tell me to shut up,” Lakesha said.
“I didn’t mean you.”
“Well, you sure as hell wouldn’t talk to Isis like that. You’d best apologize right this instant.”
“Sorry if you thought I meant you.”
“Apologize to Isis, too.”
“I’m not apologizing to a cat. I wasn’t talking to her either.”
“So you’re telling yourself to shut up? Good advice, but you clearly can’t follow it.”
I closed my eyes. “I give up.”
“You’re an idiot,” Kevin said, with a big grin. He reached up and scratched Isis under the chin. “I’ll make sure the loser gets you some food, Isis.”
The cat meowed.
“Yeah, I zapped him a few times yesterday.”
She meowed again.
“Sure, I can show you. I just went,” and he zapped my hand.
“Ow!” I said and shook my hand.
And I swear, Isis grinned.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lakesha asked.
I rubbed my hand. “I’m tired.”
“You’re always tired. And Isis is always hungry. Her needs are more important than yours.”
“I’m not going to the store right now.”
“In that case, go to the back, get down The Guide to Blood Magic by Jared Carpenter, and start reading where you left off.”
“I told you, we have a client coming.” I didn’t bother to mention that I hadn’t even started reading the book. Every time Lakesha gave me reading time, I just took a nap.
“You can either read until the client arrives, or you can go get Isis some food.”
“Fine. I’ll read.”
“Way to earn some respect. Isis won’t forget this.”
“Isis wouldn’t give me credit for getting the food anyway. She hates me.”
“You have to build rapport with her.”
“She’s a cruel cat.”