“Noted. We’ll work out joint custody details once I get Doreán back.”
“We. Once we get him back.”
“I work alone.”
Demarco’s gaze cut to Tweety. “What about him? Who are you anyway?” he asked.
“Tweety. Romi’s manny.”
“Tweety?” Demarco snorted. “And her what?”
“Manny,” I repeated for the griffin. “You know, male nanny. And yeah, his name is Tweety. We couldn’t pronounce his griffin name, so Doreán gave him the nickname.”
“You have a griffin babysitting our son?”
“Yes. And he’s also my apprentice. I’ve been training him for more than three years, so now he’ll shadow me, but I’ll still be working alone.”
“Romi—” Tweety started to argue.
Demarco cut in. “Cool, but I’m still coming.” He crossed his arms and planted his feet and I felt my pulse quicken. He had no idea I could grab Tweety and we could leave his ass before he could blink. It would be the smart thing to do. I’d already be babysitting Tweety, and I didn’t need one more person to look after. He was strong and he held himself like he could fight, but that didn’t really mean anything since we were going up against the gods.
And how did I know he was telling me the truth about his mom? Our whole one-night stand could be one more elaborate trap set by the gods years ago. His purpose for wanting to come…so he could keep tabs on me and report back. That sounded exactly like something one of the gods would do.
“I should come too,” Talon said, alerting me to the fact he was still standing there, watching us like a creeper. “It’ll be a party.”
“No!” Demarco, Tweety, and I all yelled at once.
Talon chuckled. “Lookie there, you three can agree on something.”
“Do you know which god has the essence?” I asked Talon.
He grinned. “Maybe you are more than just a pretty face and sticky fingers.”
Yes, he knew. “Will you please share that information with me?”
His grin widened. “Not a chance. This is the most entertainment I’ve had in ages, and I’m not ruining the suspense.”
“This isn’t a game, Talon. They have my son.”
He dropped the grin, instantly looking solemn. “Sorry, Doll, but it is a game, and it’s just begun. But don’t worry, you’ll see me around.” Then he blipped out of existence.
“Actually, that is what I’m worried about,” I whispered.
The sound of his laughter made me roll my eyes.
“You ready, Tweety?” I asked.
“I am.” Instead of taking my hand, he looked to Demarco. “You’re coming, right?”
My teenage griffin nanny was such a traitor. I gave him a look that promised death, but he didn’t even cower. Making a mental note to work on my intimidation techniques, I looked up at Demarco and asked, “Can you use any of those weapons you make?”
He nodded. “All of them, but the hammer’s my favorite.”
“And you promise to listen to me and do what I say?”
He cocked an eyebrow.
I sighed. “Look, I’m not trying to be a bitch. This is not at all how I wanted today to go, but it is what it is. Doreán is my number-one priority, and if you’re playing me or if you get in my way at all, I will drop your ass off.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” he replied.
Hoping I wasn’t making a huge mistake, I agreed to take him. “Go pack a bag. We’ll wait.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“WHAT IS THIS place?” Tweety asked when we stepped out of the shadows and onto concrete. More concrete blocked us from the sky above and the roads in front and behind us.
Before he showed up on my doorstep, Tweety had lived his entire life in some sort of ancient forest he couldn’t seem to locate on any map. Whenever I took him out of the flat, we stuck to beaches and forests, avoiding people and their buildings, and now I was dreading the millions of questions I’d be fielding.
“This, my friend, is a parking garage,” I replied.
“A garage,” Tweety replied, sounding much less impressed. “I’ve seen them on television.”
“I’m pretty sure most everything we’ll see, you’ve seen on television.”
Since we’d be in an area populated with humans, I’d had the griffin supplement his customary leather shorts with an “I love New York” T-shirt and open-toed sandals, so when he spouted off weird crap like that, people would just write him off as a crazy tourist.
It was dark when we emerged from the parking structure. Bright street lights illuminated the area, showing tens of thousands of people wandering the grounds. Standing a few feet away from the garage entrance, a woman strummed a guitar and sang as a second woman pounded out a beat on plastic buckets. A variety of food smells drifted from carts, mingling with the stench of too many people and not enough deodorant.
“I know this isn’t another garage,” Tweety said, fanning the air in front of his nose while he kept his head on a swivel to take in all the sights. “Where are we?”
“We are on the Greenwich peninsula of Southeast London, England, also known as O2. It’s basically a giant entertainment area. They book concerts and plays and all kinds of events here. There’s a bowling alley and a movie theater, restaurants, pretty much every sort of legal entertainment a person could want. Probably some of the illegal variety as well.”
Walking on my other side, Demarco wore dark jeans, a blue T-shirt, and work boots, with a bag of supplies slung over his shoulder. He stood over six feet tall, and his broad shoulders and scowl had most of the men giving us a wide berth as they walked by, while several women stopped to stare at him, whispering and giggling behind their hands. I’d glamoured the giant hammer strapped to his back, as well as the daggers sheathed at my thighs, but I wasn’t skilled enough in glamours to make him look less intimidating, or less handsome. “What are we doing here?” he asked, eying the crowd.
“We’re going to see an oracle,” I replied.
He nodded. “Are these all humans?”
His rumbling voice carried, and everyone within hearing distance turned to look at him like he was crazy. At his stone-faced expression they quickly lost interest and hurried away.
“You might want to keep your voice down,” I warned him. “Most humans don’t know there’s anything else out there, and we try to let them keep their blissful ignorance.”
The tense set of his jaw while his gaze roamed over the crowd clued me in to the fact he wasn’t necessarily a people person. If I had to guess, I’d say he’d never seen this many people in his life.
“You don’t get off your little beach all that often, do you?”
His gaze dropped to the ground before rising to scan the crowd again. “Never.”
I almost tripped over my own feet. Stopping to stare at him, I asked, “What?”
“I’ve never been off the beach.”
Never was a vast and unbelievable term. Certain there had to be some sort of miscommunication for him to make such a claim, I asked, “Not ever? As in not once in your entire life?”
He shook his head. “No.”
Needing to move while I digested this little piece of the puzzle that was Demarco, I gestured toward the giant dome ahead of us, and we resumed our trek. “How old are you?” I asked.
“Twenty-five.”
“And you’ve never once left? Why not?”
“I couldn’t.”
Tweety looked as confused as I did. “You couldn’t leave?” he asked, sounding skeptical.
Demarco leveled a stare at me. “No, thanks to your grandmother.”
Aphrodite. I wouldn’t put it past her, but last I’d heard she wasn’t in the practice of gluing people to the beach. “Why? What did she do?”
“When Mom got pregnant, Aphrodite just…trapped us there.”
“What do you mean?” And why was he being so elusive? “Tell me the details.”
“We were in some sort of magi
cal bubble. We could see out, but we couldn’t leave. And nobody ever came in. Not until you showed up.”
“Wait, I was the first person you’ve ever met?”
He nodded. “Well, besides Mom.”
A group of punk rockers walked by, complete with the spiked, colorful hair, numerous piercings, and black leather attire. Both Demarco and Tweety stopped to stare. “You’ve seen it on TV, remember?” I said, pushing my wide-eyed companions along.
“There’s just so many people and they all look so different.”
I wanted to get back to our discussion. “But the town in the distance…why didn’t you go there?” Okay, so his beach had felt a little enchanted, but surely I would know if I’d been in some sort of magic bubble.
“We tried. I’m tellin’ you, an invisible wall circles the entire property.”
It was the most bizarre story I’d ever heard, and I had trouble buying it. “What did you guys eat? How did you survive? Where’d you get your supplies to make all those weapons?”
The look he gave me told me he didn’t appreciate my disbelief. “Every Friday Mom would write a list. We’d tape it to the front door and the next morning everything would be there.”
“Would be where?” Tweety asked. “On your front door?”
“No, wherever. They’d put the cold stuff in the fridge or freezer, the food in the pantry, some stuff they left on the couch.”
I stared at him, looking for some sign that he was messing with me, but he seemed to be serious. “Who’s ‘they’?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. We never saw them. We tried, but they never showed.”
“Wait, your fridge and freezer worked? In a magical bubble?”
“Yes.” Now he sounded exasperated. “We had electricity, running water, television, Internet, the basics.”
“In a magical bubble.”
He nodded. “You think I’m lying. I know it sounds unbelievable, but why would I lie about this?”
Good question.
“Romi, we had electricity, Internet, and cable, and we lived in an abandoned underground house.” Tweety said.
He was right. Why had I never questioned how that worked before? “Shade was probably piggybacking on someone from above us.”
Tweety gave me the look he usually reserved for when I’d list off all the rules before taking him and Doreán out of the house. He thought I was being overly cautious. And maybe he was right.
“I’m sorry, Demarco. I don’t mean to come off like I’m accusing you of lying. I’m just trying to understand how it all works. How did Tweety and I get in? And how did we get you out?”
“Magic. It’s the only way in or out.”
His quick answers and even tone led me to believe he was telling the truth. And Tweety clearly believed and liked him, which was saying something since the griffin claimed he could smell changes in a person when they lied. I didn’t know if I believed him, but since I had zero ability to lie, I had no way of testing his self-proclaimed lie detector ability.
Something Demarco said earlier finally made sense and hit me straight in the gut. “So when you said you wished you could get your mom to a doctor…”
“I physically could not take her to a doctor.” His silvery-blues turned stormy and I could feel the anger emanating off him. “I watched her die.”
Wow. “I’m sorry.”
We took a few more steps, and I waved for Tweety to follow us, grabbed Demarco’s hand, and tugged him away from the crowd, ignoring the little sparks that danced between our skin. His eyes still looked stormy and his expression was surprised, but there was something I needed to know.
“We were your only way out of there, weren’t we?” I asked.
“Yes.”
That’s what I’d figured. “You’ve spent your entire life locked up. Demarco, you’ve done your time. If at any time you decide you don’t want to accompany us on this…potential suicide mission, I need you to know Tweety and I will understand. You’re under no obligation to help us.”
Demarco’s jaw flexed. “He’s my son.”
“I know, and I’m not going to keep him from you. I brought him to meet you even though you didn’t know about him. I clearly want you to be in his life. I just…gods, you haven’t even gotten a chance to live.” And I didn’t want him feeling obligated to help just because we’d sprung him from his prison.
“What about you?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You were enslaved to a madman who made you steal for him.”
“But at least I got to see the world. And when I wasn’t working I’d sometimes take Tweety and Doreán out exploring. We just weren’t allowed near you.”
“Yep, she was a slave,” Tweety said, butting in. “Which is why she wants to make sure you’re doing this of your own free will. That’s how she is.”
“What do you mean?” Demarco asked.
“I was captured when I was young. Poachers took me from the forest I’d grown up in and fitted me with a collar.” Tweety rubbed at his neck like it was an old scar. “The thing was magical. I couldn’t get it off and it burned if I didn’t do what I was told by whoever owned me. I went through a few owners before a woman purchased me and dropped me off on Romi’s doorstep, ordering me to watch over Doreán from the day he was born until the end of his life.”
I crossed my arms and listened.
“You were a slave too?” Demarco asked.
“Yeah. Romi had no one when I showed up. It was just her and a newborn baby, and Shade was forcing her to get back to work. I was her only option, so she left her infant son with a griffin.” Tweety chuckled. “Can you imagine? I mean, we’re not exactly known for nurturing. I’m sure she was scared I’d snack on his fingers and toes, but that damn collar forced me to watch over the kid. When Romi found out that the collar stole my free will, she promised to figure out a way to remove it. I didn’t believe her at first. Actually, I didn’t even believe her when she hunted down the poachers, stole the key, and physically removed the collar. But…she freed me even though she needed me.”
“But you stayed,” Demarco observed. “Why?”
Tweety shrugged. “No place to go. Even if I could find my way back home, I wasn’t sure I’d be welcomed back. I’d gotten captured, which made me look weak in the eyes of my family. No one ever came to rescue me.” He chuckled. “We weren’t that kind of family. Besides, by then I’d grown pretty close to Doreán, and living with Romi isn’t all bad. Yeah, she yells at me for breaking her furniture and messing up the house, but she’s like my crazy aunt, teaching me about the gods and making sure I eat vegetables, watching movies with me. I know she’ll take care of me and have my back. That’s more than my family did.” He bumped into my shoulder and gave me a smile.
Sometimes my teenage griffin sidekick could be surprisingly sweet and mature, but I didn’t want him swaying Demarco’s decision in any way. “Thanks for your endorsement, Tweety, but this isn’t about me. Demarco, take some time and think about it. After we meet with the Pythia you can let me know what you’ve decided. I know this is all a bit overwhelming. I’ve been training for this task my entire life, but you haven’t.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
I thought it was pretty obvious. How could he train while trapped in a bubble? Before I could point out as much, Tweety grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me to look at him. “We’re going to see the Pythia?”
I nodded.
“The Oracle of Delphi? Apollo’s priestess?”
“You remembered.” I patted Tweety on the shoulder. “You really have been a great student, you know.” I was surprised to discover how much I enjoyed teaching him.
“Who is this Pythia Oracle?” Demarco asked.
We started walking again.
“How much do you know about Apollo?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know much about any of the gods.”
“Yeah, well, if you decide to stick around, we
’ll have to bring you up to speed before we go stormin’ their castles, so to speak. Apollo would probably be neutral in Zeus vs. Hades and Poseidon. Fighting isn’t really his thing since he’s the god of music, prophesy, healing, poetry, and the like. His priestess, the Pythia, came into power as the result of his defeating a giant python in the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, sometime around the eighth century BC.”
“So she’s another god?” Demarco asked.
“No. Nobody knows if she’s immortal or just has an extremely long lifespan, but she’s an oracle, not a god. Gods tend to control and manipulate life, whereas oracles seem to be more like observers. The Pythia is a pacifist and we will not be able to enter her presence armed. Also…once we’re in the Pythia’s hallway, don’t touch any of the doors.” A tremor of fear went up my spine in honor of the pain and suffering I’d endured during my one and only visit to see the Pythia. “And keep me from touching them, too.”
“Got it.” Tweety grinned. “Don’t touch the doors and keep you under control. It’ll be just like babysitting Doreán in your flat.”
“Funny bird.”
CHAPTER NINE
A GIANT WHITE dome covered the end of the peninsula, and there was currently a concert being held within. I knew this, because as we neared it, the ground-shaking booms of bass grew louder.
“What is that racket?” Tweety asked, covering his ears. He often complained that enhanced hearing was more of a curse than a blessing.
“Music. Judging by the bass, I bet it’s some sort of hip-hop. You’ll get used to it.”
“I doubt it.”
“You have to. It’s a requirement of adolescence,” I informed him.
He continued to cover his ears, gaining strange looks from every real teenager within eyesight as we skirted the dome until we came to the glass doors of the box office. Multiple lines led to the ticket counter. Tweety grabbed my arm and tugged me back as his gaze swept the crowd. “There are fae in here,” he whispered. “Lots of them. It looks like they’re feeding off the energy of the music.”
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