I laughed. “Now who’s crazy?”
“What if he comes after me?” She sounded genuinely worried. Not that I cared.
“I don’t think he will. He seems to be collecting women who are dark haired, tall, thin.”
Rumour knitted her brow. “You mean those who look like you?”
“Yes.”
“So you inspired him.”
“What?” She really was trying my patience. I thought about shoving her head into the reflecting pool but decided that might drain even more of my power.
“Think about it. What you told us before. Pluto’s moons, which are really Hades’s moons, the dark daughters. He is probably trying to summon a Fury, if not all three.”
I considered this, then shook it out of my mind. “No. The moons, the ritual—I suspect that is all part of Lamia’s plan to overthrow Hades. The women—that is a mortal’s plan.”
“And who is to stop a mortal from taking Hades’s throne? What better way to do that than for the Furies to rise up and revolt?”
Had Jason Helm known when he abducted Alecto that she was a Fury? But then what of the portal? How would he have known about that? Lamia, perhaps?
“I suppose it’s possible. We know a mortal took the women, but we’ve suspected he was working with a god. Perhaps it wasn’t a god; perhaps it was only Lamia.”
Rumour tapped her lip and thought for a moment. “Or Charon.”
I snapped my gaze to her. Of course! Charon. That greedy, club-footed weasel would sell his own mother for coin.
“Did I help?” Rumour’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Actually, Cousin, you did.”
“Then may I stay with you?”
“No. But I would recommend you secure accommodations within the hotel.”
Rumour breathed a little easier.
Archer stepped up then. “Hello,” he said to Rumour.
He raised an eyebrow at me.
“It’s okay. What did you learn?”
“It was a homeless man. Said someone paid him to do it. They’re still questioning him.”
“Did he say who?”
“He didn’t know. But I flashed the picture of Jason Helm.”
“And?”
Archer nodded, and a smile spread across his face. “We’re getting closer, Sassy.”
I matched his grin. “Yes, we are.”
Rumour shifted her eyes from Archer to me. “For Hades’s sakes, Tisi, a mortal?”
I shot her a glare.
“Whatever rows your boat,” she said. She stuck out her hand. “Rumour.”
Archer shook it. “My pleasure.”
“So what now?” Rumour asked me.
I looked at Archer.
He said, “They’ve got some boys out looking for Helm. Told me I could question him when they found him. I tipped them off about the possible new address.”
“Well, then I guess now it’s shower time.” I started off toward the elevator, but Rumour grabbed my arm.
“Tisi, wait. Maybe I can help.”
“How?” I didn’t trust her one bit. Just because she had a mildly plausible theory didn’t mean she was any less sneaky.
Her tone was serious. “If this ritual is strong—if the eclipse will somehow change you, control your actions, your will—then you need to learn how to do something that only I can teach you.”
I smirked. This should be amusing. “And what is that, Cousin?”
“Lie.”
Rumour was convinced that the best offense was a good defense. She thought that if whatever ritual the abductor was planning was strong enough to crack the gate and pull Lamia through, then it might be strong enough to bespell me, weaken me, or somehow suck me into its vortex.
What was it Lamia had said? She wanted me to be by her side when she took over Hades’s throne? What had led her to believe that was even possible?
Perhaps Rumour was right. As good a poker player as I was, I wasn’t the best bluffer in the Underworld. Intimidator, yes, bluffer, no. I decided that she had a point. That maybe I would have to put aside my righteousness and “play along,” as she put it.
“If they think you’re on their side, you’ll have a better chance of defeating them,” she had said.
I wasn’t in the habit of pretending to be someone I was not. I was proud of my role as a Fury. Proud of all the sinners I had forced to repent. But maybe, just maybe, this was stronger than my will.
We had agreed to meet back in the casino in an hour. Right now, Archer and I were in the suite. Cerberus was sprawled across the sectional sofa, allowing no room for anyone else. Indigo was sleeping on a chair, still wrapped around the sword, and Archer was fiddling with the laptop.
I went upstairs to take a shower.
My hair was freshly rinsed of the muck of Lamia when I heard the door creak open. My wings ruffled.
Archer said, “Brought you some towels and a couple of aspirin for your head.”
He set a stack of fluffy white towels down on the marble counter, and two white tablets on top of them. I could see through the glass that he was about to step from the room. He stole a quick peek in the mirror at my silhouette through the glass, then turned away.
There was one other way to replenish my power, and I couldn’t think of a better man to assist me with the task.
“Archer,” I called. “Would you please wash my wings?”
He stopped and turned toward the shower door slowly.
“Um, sure, if you want me to.”
I poked my head out. “Oh, I want you to, Lawman.”
It didn’t take long for him to shrug out of his clothes. He grabbed a washcloth and joined me under the steamy water.
I danced my eyes up and down his body for a moment, enjoying the cut of him—the sculpted bone of his hips, his muscular legs, and, more importantly, what was between them. It was more than ample.
“I know. I’m not a god,” he said sheepishly.
“No, you’re not. You’re better.”
He flashed a cocky grin. “Good to know.”
I turned, and he gently soaped up my feathers, stroking them with his hands, caressing them with the washcloth. He asked if the pressure was okay, if he was hurting anything, and I assured him his touch was perfect. When he was done soaping up both of my wings right down to the last feather, he explored farther down my body, washing my back, my buttocks and thighs, all the way to my ankles. Achingly slow, he crawled his way back up to my neck, kissing it in a gentle figure-eight pattern. I could feel him hardening, could feel his hands becoming more adventurous, more daring, as he wove them up and down my thighs, my hips, and around to my stomach.
In a hoarse voice, he said, “All clean on this side. Time to do the front.”
The essence of me was throbbing, pulsating with heat. I was slick, through and through. I turned, pleased to see that Archer’s eyes had transformed into dark depths of desire. His hair was wet from the water, his skin deliciously moist, with beads of soap bubbles painted across his chest.
My nipples hardened instantly when he brushed the warm washcloth across my breasts. I leaned my head back, enjoying the sensation of his hands on my body, and stretched my arms overhead in an open invitation.
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got this,” he said, his voice rich, sensual.
I smiled. The water rained down on top of us as I gripped the edge of the shower door with both hands, resisting the urge to take charge, to lead the way, to be in control. Instead, I allowed the gratifying touch of his hands, his mouth, his tongue, to shimmy up and down my body, delving into its caverns.
He lingered between my thighs longer than I had anticipated, his hands on my hips, his mouth doing things I didn’t even think were possible. He pulled me closer to him, squeezing my backside while his tongue plunged inside me and back out again, until he finally succumbed to my squirming and satisfied the most delicate fold of my body.
I cried out, gripping the shower door harder, riding wa
ve after wave of pleasure until my force cracked the glass.
Archer kissed his way back up to my neck, glazing his hands along my sides, until he reached my face.
“I’m not done with you,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
I pushed him against the back wall of the shower and wrapped one leg around him, sliding him inside me. He moaned, softly at first, then louder the harder I thrust. We moved in sync, in tandem, and just when the rhythm was perfectly poised for me to explode again, he lifted me up, twirled me around, and pushed me against the wall.
He changed motion, slowing the beat down, and it felt so achingly good that I came again and bit him on the shoulder. He cried out, but it didn’t seem to hurt him; it seemed to excite him. He pumped harder, digging his hands into my waist as I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him tighter to me. We moved together even faster, our bodies slippery against each other, soapy and wet and fitting each other perfectly.
He brought me to ecstasy once more, and I let him know with an audible gasp before he burst into me, filling me, fortifying me, satisfying me like I had never been satisfied.
Chapter 45
He decided not to stick around for the show. As much as he relished the idea of watching her face turn to horror when she realized she was never going home, he worried that perhaps the hobo would give the cops a description, and since he was wearing Jason’s skin, he couldn’t have that.
He went back to the dump where Jason lived to prepare the girls for their roles. Lamia was likely growing impatient, and he didn’t want to risk her killing any of them before it was time. The last one—the one he really needed—would be captured tonight. He knew where to find her now.
The streets were buzzing. He watched a gaggle of girls cross the street, laughing and chatting about what fun they were having, the boys they would meet, and where to go next. They were dressed like hookers. It disturbed him.
This city never slept. There was always something to do, every hour of every day, and he enjoyed that. He enjoyed that the crowds were faceless, nameless, and completely oblivious to the dangers that lurked around every corner. Unaware that in a split second, their lives could be wiped out. Gone. Extinguished.
A shame how many people took life, freedom, for granted.
He walked for half an hour. He would have grabbed a cab but thought it best not to show his new face to too many people. He was kicking himself that he hadn’t worn a hat. Rookie mistake. He had been too eager to get the girl to think about it.
He crossed the street to a dimly lit corner where a group of young people was huddled around a burning trash can, drinking and smoking weed. That’s how he had lured many a victim. Kids loved getting high. Loved getting loaded. All he had to do was buy them beer or pot, and it was easy as pie.
The apartment wasn’t far from here. It had been a long walk, but the fresh air did him good. Cleared his head. The plan was in motion. He was prepared. Lamia was prepared. All he needed now was her.
“Hey, Jason! Where you been, man?”
A stringy-looking kid who walked like a duck approached him.
“Busy,” he said, and kept walking.
“Yo, wait up.”
He walked faster—he couldn’t risk being seen.
“Jason, man, I said wait. I have to tell you something.” The kid caught up to him. He was midtwenties, but he had the facial lines of someone much older.
“The cops came by looking for you.”
He stopped. Turned.
“For what?”
“I don’t know, man. They wouldn’t tell me.”
He looked the boy straight in the eye and growled. “Did you tell them where I live?”
The boy backed away, shaking his head. “No, man. I said I didn’t know you, but they knocked on a few doors. Don’t know if anyone else told them.”
They knew Jason’s identity. This complicated things. Had Jason been stupid enough to use his real address? Or had they tracked him here on a tip?
“What’s up with you? Haven’t seen you around lately.”
“Busy,” he snapped.
The boy raised his hands, backed away again. “All right, man, chill. Jesus. I was just trying to help.”
He watched as the boy went back to join his friends. They all took turns glancing at him.
He left. Perhaps he would have to begin sooner than he had planned. And perhaps he would need another disguise.
Chapter 46
I dressed in a halter top, jeans, and boots. My power felt like it was at full throttle, as Archer would say. I slipped the moonstone ring back on my finger and checked it for messages.
Still no word from home. Why hadn’t they contacted me? How would we return?
More disturbing than that was that I still didn’t know where Alecto was and didn’t know how to warn the gods about Charon’s possible involvement in the escape, nor was I certain that Thalia had been able to deliver the message of Lamia’s plans to replace Hades as ruler of the Underworld.
You’d think with all these modern conveniences that Athena would have designed a better way to keep in contact by now.
“Archer?” I said when I descended the stairs.
“Hey, Sassy.” He was sipping a red Gatorade and tossed me an orange one. His hair was still damp from the shower.
“Would you please check your laptop computer for a message from Athena?”
“I can try, but I’ve already checked my email. There’s nothing there.”
He pulled out a blue plastic package from the icebox and handed it to me. “For the lump on your head.”
I put the cold bag to my forehead while Archer tapped a few keys and waited for the screen to come alive. He poked around a bit, seemingly checking files. After a few minutes, he shook his head.
“Nothing here, Tisi. I’m sorry.” He looked at his watch. “We better get going if you want to play poker.”
I felt guilty about doing anything besides looking for my sister and the women. I felt like a failure. I felt helpless. There were no leads as to where Jason Helm lived, I had no idea what Lamia was doing or if she was still alive, and there was no portal to make contact with the gods. Or to get home.
My fury flushed through me, and before I could calm it, I punched a hole in the wall.
Archer said, “Hey, stop that before you break your hand.”
He came over to me. “Listen. It’s not just us looking for this guy anymore; it’s the boys in blue now. I’m going to knock on a few doors, see if I can’t get some answers about where Jason moved to, and then I’m going to visit Tommy. Now that I have a face to flash him, he’s bound to know something.”
“I’m going with you.”
“No,” Archer said. “You stay here, play poker with Rumour, learn whatever she needs to teach you, and try to keep an eye on the Shadow Bar. Maybe he’ll show up.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I nodded. “Okay, I’ll speak to Sam.”
He kissed me on the cheek. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this guy, we’ll get your sister back, and we can all go home.”
His confidence was inspiring. “You seem so certain.”
“Hey, why shouldn’t I be? I’ve got a hellhound sleeping on the couch, a dragon snug in a chair, and a goddess standing right in front of me. I couldn’t be more confident if Rambo was in the room.”
“Who is—”
Archer held his hand up. “Not now. I gotta go before Tommy hits the sack.” He opened the door. “But when we get back to your world, I plan on watching a lot of movies with you.” He winked. “In bed.”
I smiled at him, my heart tugging a bit, as the door closed behind him.
“That’s not possible, Archer,” I whispered.
For the first time in my life, a tear rolled down my cheek.
The lump had subsided some, so I refroze the cold pack. I decided to leave Indigo and Cerberus in the room to rest, leaving the door ajar. They’d both had a long day, and since I was only g
oing to play poker until Archer returned, I thought it best to give them time to refuel. Tomorrow would be a big day, after all.
Rumour was tapping her foot impatiently when I arrived. “It’s about time.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Did you have sex?”
“Yes.”
“Wrong answer. You just failed lesson number one.”
Oh.
“Where’s the mortal?”
“He left to do some investigating.”
She made a buzzer sound. “Wrong again.”
Dammit. “Stop that.”
Rumour darted her eyes around. In a hushed tone, she said, “The proper response is: He works as an acrobat in a nightly show. That’s why the sex is so good.”
I sighed. What had I gotten myself into? “Perhaps this was a mistake.”
“Lighten up, Tisiphone. I’m only having a laugh.” She grabbed my arm. “Come on, let’s hit the poker table. You’ll learn the true benefit of lying.”
She dragged me through a sea of cigarette smoke and gamblers to the Texas Hold’em table. It wasn’t far from the Shadow Bar.
“I’ll be right there. I just need to check on something,” I said.
I popped my head into the bar. Sam was there. I asked him if anyone had been in looking for me, hoping he got my meaning. He told me no, and that he’d been there all evening.
It was close to midnight when we handed our currency over to the dealer. He passed our chips to us, wished us luck, and put a sign on the table that read NEXT GAME IN FIFTEEN MINUTES.
Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to see Stacy Justice standing behind me. She was wearing dry shorts, running shoes, and a tank top. She pulled out the chair next to me and sat down.
The dealer said, “Fifty-dollar buy-in, miss.”
Stacy looked at him. “I’m not playing. I just need to speak with her.” She pointed to me.
The dealer shook his head. “Sorry, I need to leave the seats open for players.
Rumour walked over and whispered something in the man’s ear. The dealer’s eyes widened. He looked at Stacy, then at me.
“Five minutes,” he said.
Stacy thanked the dealer. I looked at Rumour, who was gleefully stacking her chips. How had she done that?
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