Perhaps, when you’ve been dealt a wild card, it’s best to approach it with an equally wild plan of attack. “Okay. Tell me what to do.”
We had traveled deep into the desert. There were no buildings around, no lights except the sun. Aside from the mountains off in the distance and a few cacti, we were alone.
Archer led me to an area between two boulders. He explained how to load the weapon, how to hold it, where to position my eye to aim a shot, and the stance that he used.
He went first, calling each shot before he fired. A cactus leaf, a red rock several yards away, and an abandoned soda can someone had carelessly left behind.
He was right on target.
“Your turn.”
The weapon was heavier than it looked. I stood the way Archer had and aimed for the same soda can. The shot was loud, and my fingers tingled a bit from the impact, but it wasn’t as awkward as I’d thought it would be. It was quite exhilarating, in fact—although I completely missed the can.
“Try closing your right eye,” Archer suggested.
I did and came much closer to the can. I fired a few more rounds, hitting the soda can twice, before my ring glowed.
“There’s a message from the gods.” Finally!
Archer liberated the gun from my hand, and I tapped the moonstone.
Stand by for a message.
Archer reloaded the guns while I waited to hear from Olympus. It felt like it was at least a hundred degrees today, and my skin was already damp with perspiration.
A moment later, the message came.
The Norse god Thor has agreed to assist Zeus with your retrieval. At 5:55 an eclipse will blanket Las Vegas. You will have exactly five minutes to be in position. The gods will open the sky and pull you through the human realm and into ours. If your mission is not complete, you are to abandon it. I repeat, abandon mission and get to the location. The energy that will be expended for this rescue could rock both worlds, severing all portals across the globe. Any god left behind will become mortal, banished to the human realm forever. Godspeed, and good luck.
—Athena
The message was followed by the coordinates.
I relayed the information to Archer. He frowned. “That’s close to where we’re headed, but not as close as I would like.”
Athena hadn’t mentioned what would happen to Archer if we missed the window. Would he become mortal too? Or would he simply cease to be?
Archer looked at his watch. “We better go.”
When we got back to the car, Cerberus was missing.
I scanned the desert, called to him, and Archer whistled.
He didn’t respond.
Perhaps his time here was done. Perhaps Artemis had called him home.
“I don’t understand it. Where could he have gone?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but he can take care of himself, right? I mean, he got here all by himself.”
“Not quite. Artemis sent him. Animals can travel more freely between realms, it’s true. They often act as spirit guides for humans, and when they receive the call, they must go.” I shielded my eyes from the sun and did another search. “I just think it’s strange that he would leave when he was specifically sent to assist us.”
“What do you want to do?” Archer asked.
I called to the hound one last time. He didn’t come.
It was getting late.
“We have no choice. We have to go.”
We secured the various weapons Archer had purchased to our bodies and drove the rest of the bumpy way into the desert. I asked Archer about the orange sticks, and he said they were “just in case.”
I told Indigo to ready herself for battle. She snorted a puff of smoke at me and blinked.
The car bumped along the desert sand to the coordinates Gacy had given us.
Archer rolled to a stop. He turned the car off, turned to me, and squeezed my hand. “You ready?”
I looked at him. “Let’s end this.”
We got out of the car and walked toward the sun.
Lamia was leaning against a rock, looking as if she had been trampled by a pack of wild boars.
Past her were five women, all of them very close in height, all of them with black hair, all of them dressed alike in roomy, gauzy black dresses. They were facing away from us and seemed to be blindfolded, judging from the trailing ties that hung from the backs of their heads. Their hands were bound.
What was his plan?
Lamia hissed. “Soooooo, Fury, we meet again.” Her tongue was lolling from her mouth. It wasn’t taut like it had been, but stretched out and torn in places. Her eyes were paler, her skin scaly and dry. The mucus gone. Her midsection where Archer had shot her bubbled and gurgled, still filled with holes.
“Lamia, you look like a deflated elephant scrotum. You should see someone about that,” I said.
She tried to snap her tongue at me, but it just waved and fell.
“Ssssooooon,” she said tiredly.
“Whatever you say.”
I studied the women. They were ten feet away. Which was Alecto? Which was Rumour? More importantly, did Alecto have any power at all? Or had the sun and her captivity stripped it?
Gacy popped out from behind a rock, and I couldn’t help thinking how appropriate that was.
“You’re on time. Good. For now, at least.” He chuckled. He was wearing that damn clown suit.
“All right, Gacy, I’m here. Tell me what you want, and I’ll see what I can do about it so that no one gets hurt. So what is it? A warmer rock in Tartarus? A view of the fire pit?”
“Right down to business, eh? I see you’re even wearing your uniform.”
My wings had been exposed since we had left the shooting range.
Archer moved beside me, and Gacy flicked his eyes to him. “Uh-uh-uh.” He wagged a finger. “Don’t even think about it.” He pulled out a knife and put it to one of the women’s throat. She gasped.
I knew then she was not Alecto.
“Drop your weapons or she dies.”
Archer pulled a gun from the back of his shorts and dropped it.
“Now the other one,” Gacy said.
Archer swallowed hard. He bent down, lifted his pant leg, and removed a second gun. He dropped it on the ground.
“And I suspect there might be one more,” Gacy said.
Archer shook his head. “Nope. That’s it.”
Gacy looked at me, his black eyes gleaming. “Who is this joker? I thought you worked alone.”
When I didn’t respond, he said, “No matter—I’ll show him who I am.” He pressed the knife into the woman’s neck, and she cried out. A trickle of blood dripped down her dress. My fury flared, but I fought to steady my wings. I didn’t want them activated. Not yet. Not until I knew where all this was leading.
“Okay!” Archer said, and removed a third gun from his boot.
“Now kick them over here,” Gacy said, and Archer complied.
The voice of the woman he had cut did not belong to Rumour either. It belonged to one of the mortals.
Gacy looked at me. “Your turn, Fury.”
I removed the gun Archer had given me from my boot. The lawman winced.
Gacy locked his eyes on me. “A gun, Goddess? Really? Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to bring a gun to a knife fight?” He laughed. “That is so beneath you.”
His gaze was still on me, and I fanned the fire in my eyes. If I could get close to him, perhaps I could impose my will, as I had on the man in the bar, Clyde, and Archer.
Gacy squinted. “You don’t actually think that will work on me, do you? You should know better than that.”
He was probably right. His soul was too twisted to bend.
“Kick the weapon over to me.”
I did.
“Now lift your hands and turn around.”
I did, keeping my wings steady.
“You too,” he said to Archer.
He complied.
“Lift up your shirt.�
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He did and pivoted.
Gacy ordered Lamia to empty the ammunition from the weapons. She crept over to him. It took her some time, but she did it. She seemed to be exhausted. She didn’t return to her rock but hovered right where she was, near Gacy.
She was weak—that was obvious. I knew she wouldn’t be a problem. If I could separate Gacy from the girls, then I could kill him.
But how? And with what?
Something was niggling at the back of my brain. A lesson I had learned long ago from Hades about the souls of Tartarus. Something that I had never had to retain, because no soul had ever escaped, but that I could sure use right now.
What was it?
“Now the sword.”
Indigo. I had to keep her safe. He couldn’t know about her. Lamia knew, but she was losing consciousness.
I slowly slipped my hand into my thigh-high boot and quietly snapped my finger, hoping she had picked up the trick from Cerberus. It worked. Indigo stilled. I pulled out the sword.
“Go put it in the car.” He cocked his head.
I had to turn my back on him to walk to the car. He was smarter than I thought. He knew if he asked me to kick it, I might just sail it into his skull.
So that was one option down the drain.
I considered reanimating Indigo, but I knew Gacy would be watching me closely and I didn’t want to risk anyone’s life. I placed her in the backseat, tucking her in Archer’s bag, leaving room for her head to stick out.
When I returned, I said, “All right, Gacy, we’re unarmed. Now tell me what you want.”
He tilted his head, and that goofy, painted-on smile shifted. “Don’t you know? Why, you, of course.”
This was getting irritating. “Fine. You have me. Now release your captors and allow them safe passage.”
He acted as if he were considering it. “Hmm.” He shook his head. “No, no, I don’t think so. I think we’ll have a bit of fun first.”
He pulled out a deck of cards.
What in the world?
“I think we’ll play a little poker first.” He tossed me the deck, and I caught it. “As you can see, it’s never been opened, so you can’t accuse me of cheating.”
I tossed it back. He let it hit the sand. “I’m not playing poker with you. Enough is enough. Let them go, and battle me as you intended.”
Archer was stone silent. I knew he was itching to do something, but that knife at the woman’s neck was giving him pause. We were several feet away.
“Tell you what: I’ll make it interesting for you. We’ll play best out of three. If you win, you get to choose who lives and who dies.”
Lamia stirred at this. She hissed at Gacy, slapping him with her tongue. “No, mortal. That was not the arrangement. We need all five for Pluto’s moon rite.”
Gacy kept his blade to the woman’s throat and his stare on me. “I don’t give a shit about that anymore. I have the Fury right in front of me.”
Lamia lunged at Gacy. He whipped a machete out from behind him and sliced her in two.
She didn’t make another sound, but the odor was almost unbearable. I didn’t bat an eye, just kept staring at Gacy as if nothing had happened. Lamia evaporated into the sand in a whirl of gargling screams and bubbling innards.
One monster down, one to go.
“And if you win?” I asked.
He stared at me with those coal-colored eyes. “They all die. And I get your soul—and with it, immortality in this world.”
So that was his plan. He wanted to stay here. To keep killing.
But could he do that? Could he gain immortality by stealing my soul? I thought it was protected. That the reason my name was stricken from my mortal enemies’ vocabularies was so they couldn’t rob any of my power, including my immortality.
Only the Fates, and perhaps Charon, would know for certain if it was possible. And given all that I had seen in the last few days, it seemed anything was possible.
“Shall we begin?”
I thought of what Rumour had said. Play along. If you believe it, so will he.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t make a deal with evil, whether I intended to keep it or not. Wouldn’t give in to their sick games on any level. I would attack, I would battle, I would fight for justice.
But this was no ordinary circumstance. Sometimes when the chips are stacked against you, it’s best to bluff.
“I’m in.”
Chapter 56
Gacy pulled out a pair of metal handcuffs. He tossed them to Archer. “Put these on.”
Archer did as instructed.
Gacy looked at the spot where Lamia had disintegrated. The machete was still in his hand, dripping with her black blood.
“I guess she can’t deal, so it’ll have to be you, Stretch.”
“You want me to shuffle and deal cards with my hands cuffed?”
Gacy turned his stone-cold eyes on Archer. “Is that a problem?”
Archer set his mouth into a firm line. His jaw was tense, but he didn’t say anything.
“Good,” said Gacy. “Now, what shall we play?” He counted the females out loud. “One, two, three, four, five. Not enough for Texas Hold’em. I guess it’ll have to be Five-Card Draw or Five-Card Stud.”
Archer removed the jokers and shuffled the cards.
Best two out of three. I had better odds with Five-Card Draw because I could discard up to three cards and redraw. With Stud, each player received only five cards. No discards. No draws. I almost opted for the former, but then Gacy explained to Archer where he was supposed to deal the cards.
Each of the women had a pocket in the front and a pocket in the back of her dress, crudely sewn. Gacy wanted Archer to put a card in every pocket.
I asked, “If I were to choose Five-Card Draw, are there any house rules?”
Gacy smiled sinisterly. “My, but you are a worthy opponent, aren’t you?” He held up the machete. “The rule is, I get to kill any discards.”
He licked the blade of the machete, and I nearly vomited.
Alex, give me a signal. You must have some fight in you, even if your wings don’t work, I thought.
A cloud passed overhead then, and I looked up.
Only it wasn’t a cloud, it was the new moon approaching the sun.
Gacy was staring at me when I lowered my head. “Tick. Tock.”
I swallowed a lump. How was I going to do this? Archer was handcuffed, Indigo was stilled, and Cerberus was nowhere in sight.
I did have an ace up my sleeve—or, rather, my wing—but I wanted to wait for the right moment to use it. My eyes were stinging from the dry heat and the desert sun. I blinked a few times, to moisturize them.
And that’s when I remembered exactly how to annihilate an escaped mortal from Tartarus.
“Let’s make it even more interesting, Gacy. One hand, Five-Card Stud. Winner takes all.”
Archer made a funny sound and shot me a look like Are you nuts? as he dealt the cards.
Gacy rocked back on his big, red, flappy shoes. “I do like your style, Fury. Agreed.”
The eclipse was coming, which meant there was not a minute to spare. We needed to be at the exact spot where the gods would pick us up, all of us, by 6:00 p.m. I was leaving no one behind.
Gacy stepped forward to the first female and ordered me to do the same. I did.
He picked up the first card, eyes on me, still holding the smaller knife. He positioned the machete to curve toward the neck of the woman.
I picked up my card. Ace.
Gacy tucked the card back in the pocket, and I did the same. He moved to the next girl and put the machete at her throat. He picked up the card, and I did the same. Eight. Ace-8.
“I want to see both hands, Fury.”
I tucked the card back into the pocket of the dress and showed him my hands.
He moved to the next female, the machete poised, and I moved in tandem.
My card was a five.
That number again.
&nbs
p; But this time, something clicked.
I kept my eyes trained on Gacy, because he was watching me closely.
But there were other senses I could use that were undetectable.
He slid over to the next female, and I mimicked his movements.
The next card was also an eight. Ace-8-5-8.
We moved on to the last female.
The card I took out of that pocket was an ace.
Gacy leaned between the gap of the last two women and cackled. “You feeling lucky, Fury?”
I held my muscles steady, my face blank. “I think I may have you beat.”
Two pair. Aces and eights.
Be aware of dead man’s hand.
That’s what Hickok meant.
“Shall we look again before we place our bets?” Gacy asked, wiggling his painted eyebrows.
Right then and there, I decided to rally for a law to ban all clowns from Olympus.
I said, “If you insist.” It would give me a chance to be absolutely sure.
We went through backward this time, checking the cards. Gacy’s eyes were still trained on me, and mine on him over the females’ shoulders.
The sky was blackening; the eclipse was almost here.
When I got to the middle card, the five, the scent was unmistakable. Night-blooming jasmine.
Off in the distance, there was a deafening clap of thunder and the low growl of a giant hound.
The noise, or maybe the growl, broke Gacy’s concentration. His eyes flicked away, and he slackened the blade in his hand for a split second.
But that was all I needed.
I wailed, and Alecto shot straight up into the air, kicked Gacy in the head, and knocked him off balance. He dropped the smaller blade and swung the machete at her feet, roaring. But she was already in flight.
He advanced on me then, swinging, and I ducked, just as Cerberus sank his teeth into Gacy’s leg.
The clown swung the blade at the hound, grazing his right ear.
I didn’t give him a second chance. “Gacy!”
He twisted his face toward me and charged, even with the dog still attached to his leg.
Sin City Goddess Page 21