Gods, that made him feel powerful.
"This is how it's going to go, Amelia." He kept his voice low, his tone firm. "You're going to go upstairs and warm my dinner. You'll undo whatever effigy you've made of me in the mashed potatoes and heat up a fresh roll for me. Then I'll eat, and we'll have a normal conversation like man and wife. I need to make sure you don't talk about Saturday's party to anyone."
Her quick intake of breath interrupted him. He put a not-too-gentle finger under her chin, his thumb on the dimple he used to find so adorable.
"Have you talked to someone about the party?"
"No, Lyle."
"Good. Because horrible things will happen to you if you do. Mr. Zeus will be most displeased, and he has some rather unsavory connections that even I can't protect you from. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Lyle."
"So be a good little wife and do what you need to do. I'll be in my office. Call me when dinner is ready."
She walked out of the room on unsteady legs, and he admired the rear view.
That's how to put her in her place.
So now that he had control of his wife and his dinner again, why this crushing weight in his chest? He sank down on the sofa and put his head in his hands. He may have regained control of his household, but everything else, including his self-respect, teetered on the brink of ruin and chaos.
Damien closed his eyes and held hands with Charlie and Madame Lucia. They sat in a circle in Maggie's living room, but he couldn't concentrate on what they were supposed to do. Every one of Audrey's labored breaths tightened the invisible band across his chest. He must be the worst sort of coward—and a terrible police officer—that he couldn’t make himself try to save her.
"The circle has been broken." Maggie breathed into the phrase. "Damien, picture Arthur Rizzo for us."
Damien imagined Arthur as he wanted to remember him, standing in the E.R. the night he'd brought Persephone in. The darkness behind his eyelids resolved to a vision of the old man sitting in a clearing, his head in his hands and his shoulders slumped.
"Arthur, if that's who you are, answer us. "
Arthur looked around. He sat on a log in a beautiful grove of trees with a clear pool at his feet.
"Who's there?" he asked.
"The circle has been broken."
"What circle?" he asked and gazed into the pool. The water swirled, and rather than looking at him from above, Damien felt like they peered at him from his feet like they sat in the pool.
"The one that needs your help, " Maggie said, still telepathically, but they were all joined in her mind, so Damien flowed along with her intention. She showed Rizzo what she could, how a single candle illuminated the four people seated on the floor and a fifth on the sofa behind them. The fifth lay still and quiet, as in death. The four held hands, and with Lucia's help, Maggie amplified the concern and fear for their fallen comrade. And burning love, this from Damien.
"Who is that on the couch?" Arthur asked, his voice choked.
"Her name is Audrey Aurora Sonoma. She is gravely ill, her conscious trapped in the Collective Unconscious."
"I have failed," the doctor said and hung his head. For a moment, he looked like the young man Damien had seen with Audrey in the coffee shop, but then he returned to his normal appearance.
A small silver dragon landed on his arm. It ruffled its wings and tasted the air with its tongue.
"If that is her spirit guide, it needs to be brought to her so she will survive."
Arthur looked up. "There is still hope?"
"There is, but not for long. Find her. Bring the dragon to her."
"Do you know where she is?" He closed his eyes as if trying to focus on the message.
"Corinth Plaza, main office tower, converted government chambers. No time to lose. She fades quickly."
"Corinth?" Arthur opened his eyes and looked at the dragon.
This time the voice that spoke from the vision belonged only to Lucia, whom Maggie mentally sidestepped so as to get out of her way. "You may go wherever you wish, Guardian. It is the city of the Pandemos. You must keep your focus and not delay further."
A force that felt like spiritual whiplash broke the connection, and Maggie opened her eyes to see the others in her apartment blinking in confusion.
"What was that?" Damien asked and rubbed his neck. "Where was he? How does he know Audrey?"
"I wish I knew. All I can say is that your friend isn't human." Maggie stood.
"She is correct," Lucia agreed. "There are links binding us all together, some stronger than others, and the ones tying you to Audrey may have been forged even before you, ah, rescued her."
Maggie inclined her head toward the psychic.
"Then what is he?" Damien insisted. If Arthur wasn't human, that meant he wasn't going to die. Didn't it?
"Well," Maggie said, "you grew up Catholic, right?"
Damien sighed. "Yet another thing you know without my telling you. Don't you Truth-whatevers have any respect for privacy?"
"Sorry, caught it earlier. You've heard of guardian angels, right?"
"Yes, but I never believed in them literally." Although if anyone had been one for him, it was Arthur Rizzo.
"Well, that might have to change."
"C'mon, a game or something. I've been stuck in here for forever."
Audrey put her hands over her ears to block the child-god's whining. "No. Leave me alone."
"We can play 'I Spy.' I spy, with my little eye—oooh!"
The door opened, and an older gentleman walked in. Audrey was sure she'd never seen him before, but he looked very familiar.
"Your Mischievousness," the man said and bowed. The creature bowed back.
"I'm glad you're here," Cupid said and clapped his hands. "She's no fun."
Although the man stood on the other side of the cage, there was something reassuring about him.
"Audrey," he said.
She looked up at him with tearstained cheeks. "Who are you?"
He put his hand through the bars, and she took it. When she touched him, his appearance changed, and she found herself looking not at an old man, but J.J. her brother.
She closed her eyes. "This place is playing tricks on me."
"No, it's me," he said and knelt on the floor. "I've not been honest with you, but this is neither the time nor place for my story. What happened?"
"I'm trapped, and if I don't get back to the waking world soon, I'll die. And then Zeus will turn me into his concubine, and I'll be condemned to an eternity of having to put up with his arrogance, and I'll never see Damien again." Her voice cracked on the last word, and she sobbed into her hands.
A little dragon zipped into the cage and crawled into her lap, warm and reassuring like Athena the cat, but less dense. "Who is this?"
"Your spirit guide. Your friends sent me to bring her to you. She was waiting outside until I could determine it was really you."
"You found me." This time she smiled at him through her tears. "You brought her to me. Thank you."
"Lucia, Damien, and the others thought that she might help you keep your strength up here, to help you last longer."
"Are they going to rescue me?" She held the dragon in her hands, and it preened. "Can you?"
He shook his head. "I wish I could, but I'm weak in this form with my physical body still trapped in the hospital. Your friends are making plans now. I saw them."
"Who are you, really?"
"I can't tell you, I'm afraid, but I'll keep you company until they arrive if you like."
"That would be nice." A memory from before their father died surfaced. "Does this have something to do with the angel at the swimming pool?"
"The what? I don't know what you're talking about." But he wouldn't meet her eyes.
"The angel." She closed her eyes, and the memory surfaced—the smell of chlorine over the jasmine in their neighbor's yard, screaming when J.J. had dived into the shallow end of the pool and hadn't come back up. And
the form of pure light that had lain over him and been absorbed into him, and he'd made a miraculous recovery even though they'd thought his neck was broken and he was gone.
"I got a second chance I never should have." He squeezed her hand. "You and Mom couldn't be left completely alone when Dad died."
She opened her eyes, her vision blurred with tears. "So what are you?"
He shrugged. "Just keep believing in guardian angels."
She recognized that tone—that's all she’d get out of him. Was it possible? Sure, he’d become extra protective of her after that summer. When he’d been home. But why hadn't he been there when she'd gone back to school and had been shunned because no one knew how to be around her? She thought he'd gone back to college, but had he really? Or was he living a different life?
"Please tell me. Are you or aren’t you my brother?" She couldn’t lose him twice.
He reached over and squeezed her hand through the bars again. "We’ll talk about it later, I promise."
She acquiesced, but only because she needed time to sift through her memories and find the evidence that would give her the truth even if he wouldn’t tell her. Meanwhile, the dragon in her lap comforted her somewhat. She sighed and looked out the window. "I've never been afraid of the dark, but I don't know what's going to come out of the shadows here."
He snorted. "I don't blame you."
His response didn't help her feel any better, especially with her new knowledge about him. "How are the others? You know, I only met them a couple of days ago. Or was it yesterday?" She squinted into the dark like the days would be illuminated there.
"Time passes differently here," J.J. said. He lowered himself to the floor with his back against the wall. The owl settled on a perch where it could see out of the windows.
"I met Maggie here. And Zinfandel, the vegetarian dragon."
"The what?" J.J. smiled at her. "Tell me, did it have something to do with your dreams? Oh, and what happened with Kyle?"
Audrey surprised herself by not wanting to cry about her ex, who, if she were to be honest, had been more of an idea than a relationship. "You were right. He was a lying, cheating jerk. But let me tell you about Damien." She glared at Eros.
J.J. grinned, and as always, his smile reassured her. "Oh, this is going to be good."
"Never mind," Audrey said. "I don’t date cops. I’ve seen firsthand how painful loving one can be."
"But if you were to make an exception," J.J. said, "Damien would be worth it. He’s a good guy, Audrey."
She didn’t say anything. If he wasn’t her brother, he’d lost the right to give her advice. And if he was… His approval of Damien made her too happy and made her too inclined to consider giving the relationship a shot.
23
Damien woke from a sound slumber, all of his senses alert. He'd gone home and collapsed after the séance, or whatever it had been, at Maggie's. He didn't know whether to believe her theories about Arthur.
Each revelation from that woman makes my world stranger and stranger. But at least someone's there with Audrey.
He rolled to one side, but his guilt didn't sit well in his chest. He should have gone to Audrey no matter what the psychic had said. And he would now, but he didn't know how. He wasn't a—what did they call it?—dream weaver.
The glow from the streetlight outside his window projected bars on the dingy carpet in his 'cheap' Virginia Highlands apartment that would be ridiculously overpriced anywhere else. He'd wanted to be there for the night life, but he hadn't counted on never being home to enjoy it.
Not that he'd wanted to after his grandmother died. Now he had a different kind of 'night life' to deal with.
A chill breeze ruffled the dry leaves of the scrawny trees beside his first-floor patio, and he shivered. Cursing the lack of insulation and weather-stripping around his windows and door, he pulled on a sweatshirt over the T-shirt and shorts he slept in and made a quick recon around his place, gun in hand. Nothing was amiss inside, but a gust of wind whipped the poor little saplings into a frenzy, their remaining leaves struggling to hold on to the branches. Damien watched, mesmerized by the rhythm and sway. That's when he heard a small sound, like someone dropping from a height to land like a martial artist on his carpet.
He wheeled around, gun aimed at the direction the noise had come from. Quiet laughter mocked him.
"A man who has been touched by the gods should not be so quick to shoot one." A man dressed all in black, his light hair and beard coiffed and trimmed like a country-western singer on Country Music Awards night, stepped out of the shadows, and the lights in the room flickered on. The man took a seat on Damien's shabby second-hand sofa that he'd recovered himself and had felt proud of until this moment. But the stranger made all his surroundings darker like he cast a pall on them.
"Who—or what—are you?" asked Damien. "And stop saying that I've been touched. That's absurd."
The intruder gestured to the easy chair. "Have a seat. Trust me, you know who I am. You watch for me every time you go out on patrol."
"You're…" Damien sank into his armchair.
"I'm Hades, King of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead, and all that rot." The god spoke patiently, as to a child. Then he looked around, a mischievous grin lifting his mustache. "And I'm not supposed to be here."
Damien tried to wrap his mind around the fact that a god sat on his sofa and endeavored to overcome his resentment at the intrusion. They won't even allow me a good night's sleep.
"Okay, look, I know this is hard for you." Now the god spoke in television therapist tones. "But I have something very important to tell you, and as I said, I don't have much time."
"Why not? And why are you helping me?"
"Someone—I suspect either Zeus or Hera—has set up wards on the boundaries between here and the C.U. to monitor supernatural comings and goings. Probably Hera. She knows her husband is up to something. I got through a hole, but the longer I'm gone, the higher the risk of getting caught. As for why I am helping you, if Zeus gets away with this little fiasco, none of the rest of us Twelve are safe. We all have power that can be harnessed in the modern world, and it's only a matter of time before someone tries to trap us. Sometimes they can succeed."
Damien nodded. "That's what we've figured, too, that Zeus is involved. And he's trapped Audrey." He choked around the lump in his throat. "Have you seen her?"
Hades gave him a pitying smile. "Trust me, her coming to me would be much better than what Zeus has planned for her. But no, I haven't seen her."
"Do you know where Aphrodite is?"
"I have a suspicion. Did you read the book Arthur Rizzo gave you?"
Damien looked around and saw it on the coffee table. How did that get there? The last time he'd seen it was in the back seat of his car. He picked it up, and it opened to a folded piece of paper. Six lines held up a triangle. Great, Rizzo's drawing is as bad as his handwriting.
"What is this?"
"Your friend had a dream, and that's what he saw. He has his own talents, as you probably know. That's why the nymphs all came to him, or why you brought them to him. You have some ability, too."
"So the point of this is…?" Damien arched an eyebrow. I'm so tired of puzzles and riddles.
"If you find that, you know that's where Aphrodite is being kept."
"What about Audrey? Can you sneak me through the hole for a just a few minutes to talk to her?"
"You're losing sight of the bigger picture, boy." Hades sighed. "But I understand since that's how I felt when Persephone was missing. Go to the mirror in your bathroom."
Damien did as he was told, and instead of his bathroom reflected in the mirror, he saw a room with two gilded cages. In one sat a chubby little angel thing, and in the other, Audrey. The anxiety in his chest and stomach loosened a little when he saw the silver dragon in her lap. A shadowy figure sat against the wall, but all Damien could make out were slender limbs and a beard.
It must be Arthur.
"Audre
y," he said.
She looked up. "Damien? Is that you? You can't be here—you'll get trapped."
"I just needed to make sure you're okay."
"I'm as okay as I can be. I have company. By the way, if I don't come back—"
"Don't say that." The despair in her eyes made Damien want to crawl through the mirror and into the cage to comfort her.
She shook her head. "I'm not giving up, don't worry. But if I don't make it back, don't let your worries about your genes make you be alone for the rest of your life."
How did she…? Could the dream have been more than a regular sex dream? He didn't have time to ask, as darkness crept over the mirror from the corners in. "I'll… I'll come for you soon."
The mirror went dark and then returned to its usual reflection.
Damien walked out into the living room, where he found Hades reading Rizzo's book.
"They never get it quite right," he grumbled. "Orpheus was a whiny little prick, but they always make me into the bad guy."
"Thank you," Damien said. "Is there anything else you can do?"
Hades' impatient sigh extinguished the lamp beside him. "No."
"But I'll die if she does."
Again, that pitying smile. "I know that's how it feels, but when the effects wear off, you won't be in such distress."
"What effects?"
Hades put a hand over his mouth. "Whoops, shouldn't have said anything. Oh, dear, look at the time. I really must be going." He stood.
Damien wanted to grab him by the upper arms and keep him there, but something blocked him from reaching the god. "Wait, what effects? What have I been touched with?"
"You'll find out in good time." Hades disappeared, and his laughter lingered for a moment after.
Damien looked again at the drawing in his hand. It looked somewhat familiar, the four columns holding up a triangular roof. Something was crudely drawn in behind them, curtains of some sort. Damien tucked it in his hoodie pocket and went to bed, but he tossed and turned for the rest of the night.
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