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When one spoke of the greatest conspiracies of all time, most people thought of JFK’s assassination and Elvis Presley’s death, Roswell and Roanoke, and more recently, the much talked about Illuminati. All of these, however, paled in comparison to the secret that the likes of Homer, Dante, and even Shakespeare carried to their graves: the immortals of Greek mythology were real, and Mt. Olympus was the gateway to Heaven.
While supernatural agencies like CIA and CSI were concerned about human protection, INTERPOL had another objective entirely, and that was to defend the home of Olympians. INTERPOL stood for the Interdisciplinary Phalanx of Olympus, and consisted of the most powerful immortals and supernaturals.
For Paul to be a part of such an organization...
“Now I know why you always look like a blond James Bond,” I exclaimed unthinkingly.
Paul threw his head back with a laugh, and my face flamed as I realized just how silly my first thought was.
Why, oh, why did I always end up acting like an idiot where this man was concerned?
Dinner should have been intensely awkward after that, but thankfully Mr. INTERPOL Detective was too skilled a conversationalist to let it happen. As we worked our way through Mr. P’s perfectly grilled steaks, Paul left me no chance to feel self-conscious as he swiftly engaged me in shoptalk. “Officially speaking, INTERPOL agents have been instructed to inform the public that Zeus is only having a temporary mood swing, and so it’s nothing to panic about.”
I choked. “A mood swing that can potentially lead to a Category 4 hurricane isn’t something to panic about?”
Paul grimaced. “I understand why you might find that incredulous, but right now, it’s the best we can do to prevent mass hysteria. We didn’t want anyone panicking unnecessarily and remember the last time Zeus unleashed his full wrath.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that at all. Paul was talking about the last Great War that the gods fought and eventually won. Theirs was a pyrrhic victory, though, since the recapture of demons came at the expense of the dinosaurs’ global extinction.
“Can it really get that bad?” I asked uneasily.
“Worse,” Paul said grimly, “since this time Zeus will be on the enemy’s side.” He leaned back against his chair, and his gaze turned contemplative as he looked at me. “You mentioned earlier that you were heading out of town. I’m assuming it’s related to Zeus’ case?”
“Yes.” I told him about the photos included in my case file, and how one particular thing stood out in all of them when compared to older photos of the thunder god.
“You’re sure about the gold dust?” Paul asked.
“It would be ideal if I could confirm this in person, but since I’m not allowed on Mt. Olympus, I’m just relying on my guts.” I held my breath then asked, “You know what it could mean, right?”
Paul’s lips twisted into a smile. “I can’t think of any self-respecting immortal who wouldn’t.”
Oh, thank Gaea! I did get it right then. My body relaxing in relief, I asked, “Which of Midas’ casinos do you think Zeus would have visited?”
****
ALTHOUGH MIDAS’ GOLDEN touch hadn’t disappeared throughout the centuries, it had certainly tarnished over the years. Unlike his palaces of old, his modern-day casinos could only boast of gold-plated scrolls adorning the ceiling’s plasterwork. Fake gold was all around us, and if the grapevine was to be believed, his reduced powers were the result of Apollo’s divine punishment.
I asked Paul if he knew what the Phrygian king could have done to earn the Olympian’s wrath, but before he could answer, the doors to The Golden Court had already opened, and a woman in a glittering gown was welcoming us inside. I could tell she was a naiad just by her scent alone; she smelled of freshwater the way Mary Lou at reception bore the scent of forests.
Like all nymphs working for Midas, Adriana earned her keep by luring men in and sweet-talking them into spending their fortune on the tables. Unfortunately for Adriana, Paul was no gullible mortal, and so the tables (pun intended) were turned, with all of the women in the casino falling under the immortal’s thrall.
I guessed that took care of the women, but what about—-
Oh.
Paul had chosen one of the roulette tables to play in and right away won his first bet. A small crowd of men immediately swarmed around him, cheering, and its size more than doubled when Paul declared he was sharing his winnings with his loudly supportive fans.
Riiiiight.
With all eyes on the handsome detective, I quietly slipped away and headed straight to the back of the VIP area, where the security room was. There were several armed men inside, but thankfully they were all mortals, and so all it took was a quick aerial illustration of a spell symbol using my CSI-issued wand and all five men fell to the floor, fast asleep and snoring.
Since witches in training like me couldn’t yet cast spells on our own, we had to rely on agency standard tools to perform magic on the job. These tools were pretty efficient and easy to use, but the downside was that they also came with a limited-time effect.
And right now I had just about fifteen minutes before the guards woke up. After connecting my phone to the casino’s security system, I quickly made a call to Lana Spears, my agency-assigned partner in tech support.
“I’m in.”
“Understood. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
CSI might be a supernatural agency, but it didn’t mean we couldn’t rely on human technology if we had to. Anything that could be useful would be used, and in this case I needed to have Lana hack into the casino’s system so she could do her own kind of magic.
And yes, we did have to hack it since Midas was notorious for being uncooperative when it came to any kind of supernatural investigation. This, too, supposedly had something to do with Apollo, but the rumors had always been pretty vague and inconsistent when it came to actual details about their row.
“I have confirmation,” Lana said ten minutes later. I heard a series of quick taps on her keyboard, and a video file showed up on my phone. I clicked on the file, and I saw Zeus seated on one of the casino’s baccarat tables and surrounded by cheering onlookers. As he leaned forward to reach for his winnings, I saw a pretty brunette edge her way to the front of the crowd—-
There.
She had slipped something in his drink, and when Zeus turned to her, she murmured something to him that made the thunder god laugh heartily. He kissed her full on the mouth just before reaching for his glass and taking a swig.
Cast it.
I had just seen a woman successfully attempt to poison or brainwash the head of the Olympian pantheon, and I could only shudder in fear as I thought of what that person hoped to achieve.
****
PAUL ALREADY HAD HIS car running by the time I snuck out of the casino. I hurried to it as fast as I could, but I still ended up wet and shivering like a drowned little mouse when I finally got into the passenger seat. Zeus’ so-called mood swings had gotten worse in the past hour, and the sound of every raindrop striking the ground reminded me of a ticking bomb.
“Sorry for getting your car wet.” I glanced down at my wet clothes and almost gasped – my blouse was completely soaked and see-through, revealing the cotton cups of my bra. My head shot up, and my embarrassed gaze flew to Paul.
I saw his hazel eyes dip down, and my throat tightened.
Oh, Gaea bewitched.
That look could only be interpreted in one way.
Paul Theodore...was interested in me.