“The secret of happiness is freedom. The secret of freedom is courage.” ~ Thucydides
The carpet in the dingy motel room was worn down to its base yellow thread. The appalling shade did nothing to enhance the seventies-looking furniture. She scrutinized the peeling lacquer on the armchairs. The bed looked no better.
“Probably full of bedbugs and dust mites and who knows what else,” she muttered.
A light tapping noise at the door startled her out of her disgust. Her spine straightened. She took a step forward, the urge to investigate rushing through her veins. She was a police officer first, after all. Curiosity slapped her hard. Her feet began to move towards the door, but she didn’t reach it because it exploded from its hinges and came down with a loud crash. And there sprawled on his back was Tithon. She ran to his side.
“What happened?”
“Attacked by some fairy,” he answered.
Astonished, her brain churned the information as coherent words failed to form.
“You can’t be serious. You’re a badass vampire.”
“I would not kid you about something like this,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Okay, the fairy kicked your ass. Why?”
“She was angry at me.” He paused, closing his eyes. “I stood her up.”
Carissa looked down at him in disbelief. “A fairy attacked you because you stood her up. One for the lady. Wouldn’t mind a chat with her. I like that she kicked your sorry ass.”
Tithon let out a laugh. “Trust me, you don’t want to mess with a pissed-off fairy.”
“I never said I’d mess with her. I said I’d chat with her.”
“No ... don’t think that would work.”
“Well, are you hurt?” She looked for any visible stab wounds.
He didn’t appear to have any blood on him.
“No, I’m fine. Trust her to fucking turn up here.”
“And who exactly is she?”
“A double-crossing, two-faced, money-hungry fairy. She’s not even worthy of a name.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Uh-huh. Look who’s calling the kettle black.”
“I am not like her. I at least deliver on all my promises, unless of course something goes sour. Fucking fairies!”
“Hmm looks like ‘sour’ is the key word here. So we have a very pissed-off fairy.” She gave him her hand to help him up off his back.
“Thanks.” He took the offered help. Not that he needed it. She knew he could spring to his feet without assistance. “Oh, and let’s keep this incident between the two of us.”
“My lips are sealed, Gumbo.”
He let out a laugh as he walked over to salvage what was left of the door. “You really do like that name, don’t you?”
“I think it suits you.”
She watched him try and put the door back. A spark of an idea travelled through her body. She clasped her hands. Maybe she could convince him to help her get away.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
Damn right, so had she. Music to her ears at last.
“They are going to move you in an hour. By then it will be almost time for rejuvenation for me, so I’m going to try and get a message across to Xen. No promises of delivery because I’m not Mr. Popular, as you have noticed.” The corners of his mouth turned up.
“No, I guess the fairies missed the memo about your fame. Besides, the getting thrown through the door business just proves your lack of awesomeness.” Her gut instinct told her that the fairy didn’t want to get all hot and heavy with him. On the contrary, she was certain that his lack of popularity extended to other creatures too, not just the said fairy. “So how do you propose to get word?”
“Not by any conventional methods, if you get my drift.” He waggled his eyebrows and gave her a lopsided grin.
“Actually no, I don’t get your drift.” She frowned, her mind racing, trying to work out what he meant. “What method?”
His lips quirked up cheerfully. He, too, had that twist-your-panties-in-a-knot smile, like both Kane and Xen. The fairy must have been pissed about something more than Tithon standing her up. Men, whether mortal or immortal, didn’t get why women occasionally lost their heads over little things. Tithon didn’t work with Xen, but she would bet a fair bit of moola that he’d been wronged somewhere and preferred his own brand of justice—whatever that involved. She speculated, but had nothing solid.
“Darlin’, you need to reconsider what you know about pre-technology methods. Did anyone ever teach you how the ancients communicated?” He gave her a penetrating stare.
“Come to think of it, my uncle Greg believes the Greeks invented everything.” A recollection of past images flashed through her head. Every Sunday she’d been subjected to long and torturous hours of his drivel. “I give credit where credit is due, but my uncle was very biased.” One particular story rushed to the forefront. “I remember something about giving a guy a verbal message and making him run somewhere to deliver it. Didn’t someone die doing that?” she asked, scrunching her eyebrows together.
“Phidippides—he ran all the way from Athens to Sparta then back again in two days, then from Marathon to Athens to announce victory over the Persians at Marathon. The marathon run is held in his honor,” Tithon supplied.
She pondered what he’d said, then shook her head.
“No, no, no. You can’t possibly mean ...”
Tithon was nodding in approval.
She squealed at the ridiculous suggestion.
He stuck a finger to his lips to shush her. “Yes,” he said quietly.
“Silly Greek immortals.” They could certainly get with the times. “Can’t you send a text? I mean that’s normal, it’s speedier.”
“No can do, sweetheart. Told you that before. No phones allowed around Hal. He’s got everyone watching like a hawk, and the fact that I’ve been in here talking with you this long, isn’t good either. So, it’s been fun, but I must shoot. See you tomorrow.” He winked, moved the door, and then sped out of the room.
She laughed at his feeble attempt to put the door back. “Like that’s really going to help.”
Pity the fairy didn’t hang around for introductions. Carissa believed the said fairy would have been able to get a message to Xen a lot faster than Gumbo’s marathon runner.
She’d take what help she could, in any shape or form. It was pointless arguing or killing the help—even if she thought it ridiculous and outdated. “Next thing they’d be sending up smoke signals.” She laughed at her own joke.
Walking to the bathroom, she eyed the ghastly shade of pink tiles on the wall. At least there appeared to be no mold in the shower; she had her limits. She opted out of a shower and splashed some water on her face to freshen up a little. Then waited for Hal to make an appearance.
Her predicament and the whole demi-god nonsense irked her every time her thoughts slipped into that whole otherworld existence. She’d been brave so far but, heck, inside she clawed at her fear, trying to keep it from bursting out and making her a sobbing mess.
Calling her father wasn’t an option. Zeus had forbidden them from visiting the mortal realm. She clenched her jaw as annoyance bubbled up to the surface. If it had not been for her accidental encounter with Xen and demons, she would still be clueless. She stood and walked over to the window and threw out a one-two punch to soothe her anger.
Looking out, she mumbled, “Rosy-fingered Eos in all her brightly colored hues.” Dawn, with all its brightness, gave her hope. “Maybe I could try some of that compulsion mumbo jumbo when they come to move me.”
Xen was pleased when she’d compelled Kane. So why not practice her newly discovered skill? Hal would not spare her, no matter how much she begged or tried to reason. Actually, trying to talk to him only resulted in her wanting to throttle him every time. No, she needed a plan. An idea started to formulate in her mind.
The door came flying down for the second time that morning and brought her out of her muddled musings. Hal strutted in with takeaway coffee and a bag of donuts. His ugly goons walked in after him. One took his position near the door, the other walking deep into the room so he was behind her as she faced Hal.
Wow, this is different for him. He usually travelled with his chef, largely because of his arrogance and his need to prove something. The smell of coffee hit her nose, making her taste buds water.
“Well, well, what happened here?” he asked.
She had forgotten to get a story together with Gumbo so she opted for what was safest, a clumsy lie.
“Gumbo tripped over a mop bucket and came hurtling through the door. Your cronies are built like a block of apartments and those doors are paper thin.”
Hal looked at her like she had grown another head. Yeah, it sounded ridiculous, but hey, things like that happened all the time.
“If you don’t believe me, ask Gumbo when you see him next.” She shrugged her shoulders.
Hal gave her another look. “Oh, I intend to, and let’s hope you haven’t attacked another of my vampires.”
“I swear I didn’t stab him or gouge his eyes out, although I would have loved to. Seeing that vampires can recover from such small hurts, it would have been fun just for the hell of it,” she added smugly.
“Very well.” He handed her a cup of coffee and the bag of donuts then sat on the bed.
Hope you get fleas or something, she thought when he sat down. She wasn’t game enough to try the bed. She was famished and didn’t waste any time diving in for a donut. She devoured the first one without breathing, only managing a slight pause to take a sip of coffee.
“Thanks, Hal.” Manners were manners, right? And you didn’t bite the hand that fed you till after you ate. “Coffee is good. So are the donuts,” she managed between bites and gulps of coffee. May be my last so I might as well savor it.
“It’s time for a trip back to the motherland, Carissa. Have you ever visited Greece?”
“No.” The muffled answer escaped behind the last piece of donut she shoved into her mouth.
“Well, then you will be pleasantly surprised. It’s beautiful. Pity I won’t have time to show you all the ancient sites.”
“I don’t really need a holiday, Hal. I was having one when you decided to kidnap me the first time.”
“Those pesky police wolves made it difficult.”
Her posture stiffened. The first person that popped into her head was Jones. She hoped he wasn’t in any danger from Hal’s cronies.
“Thank you for the coffee and donuts. Best I’ve ever had.”
Walking over to the trash can, she dumped the empty bag and coffee cup.
“We have a flight to catch.” He stood and made his way to the door.
“Before we go, Hal ... one more question?”
“Make it quick,” he snapped, turning at the door.
“How do your demon goons not attract attention in broad daylight?”
“You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll work it out.”
“What I would give to use some of that compulsion hocus-pocus on you,” she breathed to herself.
One of Hal’s ugly goons stepped up behind her and tied her hands behind her back. She didn’t know which was worse, the sight of him or the fact he’d touched her hands. She swallowed back the bile that threatened to rise. No, she’d stay calm and in control. That way she could assess the best time to try some hocus-pocus on these demons. Her bindings were rope. A bonus. A memory flashed from when she was a kid; she used to get her cousins to tie her hands and see if she could get out of it. She called herself little Houdini. This should be a piece of cake.
The goon pushed her toward the waiting vehicles. The door opened and her body hit the back seat. Hal rode in the vehicle in front. Her chest expanded as relief washed over her that she’d be alone and wouldn’t have to endure his weird conversations. Silently, she uttered a thank-you to the gods.
The two goons rode in the front. Showtime. She tried not to wince as she struggled against her bound wrists. The rope chafed her skin. It would be raw by the time she’d done her Houdini trick. By the time the vehicles hit the main road she’d pulled her hands free. To keep the goons from noticing, she kept her hands behind her back.
Carissa had no real way of knowing whether her attempt at compulsion would work on these ghastly goons, but it was worth a try. She waited for the signs indicating the turn for the airport then started her mental chant. You will keep going, you will not turn. You will keep going, you will not turn. She kept the chant up for a few seconds.
To her complete surprise, the goon drove past the exit for the airport. They were no longer following Hal’s car. The compulsion had worked. They turned onto Dorchester Road, away from Charleston International Airport. Her chant changed to Xen’s address. Once she had them there, Kane could deal with the goons.
The car was heading towards the turnoff for Xen’s house, when the game changed. The CB radio installed in the car went off like an alarm bell, breaking the compulsion she had the goons under. Seeing it as an opportunity, in a rush she leaned over and tried to snatch the gun from Goon Two’s hands. Her fingers wrapped around the gun. They struggled as the car swerved when Goon One tried to shake her off Goon Two. The gun went off and Goon Two roared as the bullet tore through the skin on his thigh.
He turned. She saw his fist coming, but her body did not react in time. His punch landed directly on her nose. She fell back in her seat as pain tore through her head. A swish sounded and thick glass went up between her and the goons. They looked back at her. Assholes. Her nose throbbed and her eyes watered. Dizziness loomed, but she leaned back and tried to ride the wave of it.
Guess a trip to Greece is in my horoscope after all.
Fifteen minutes later, they were at the airport and she was being torn out of the car and pushed towards what looked like a private plane. It would be a hell of a ride with Hal. She folded her arms across her stomach. A tingling started in her chest. She sent a silent prayer to the universe. Find me Xen.