Blood Hunt (7 page)

“You?” I asked.

“And Isis too. He was equal opportunity.”

“I don't know Isis,” I said. “I know you. Tell me what happened.”

He used the pencil holder to push the coin away to the very edge of his desk. I didn't think we were going to be playing around on it any time soon.

“He attacked me. He tried to… Well, anyway, he didn't succeed. Myth has it that he put out my left eye and that Thoth helped regenerate it, but that it was never the same, hence the fact that the moon waxes and wanes and sometimes is blood red. It recalls the trauma.”

I reached across the desk and put my hand over the one he'd drawn back from the covered-up coin. “Is that true?” I asked, looking into his eyes. He wouldn't meet my gaze, and he was still bearing down on his swirling thoughts. I got torment and a mix of emotions so complex it would take a master to unravel.

“About the eye? That much is true.” He glanced up just briefly. “As you can see, I got better.”

I squeezed his hand. “But you've never forgotten.”

“You don't just get over something like that. I mean, you move on, but something like that tends to leave a mark. Anyway, the long and short of it is that Set isn't just petty or vengeful or any of those things the rest of us might be. He's
evil
. Pure, unadulterated, no-holds-barred evil. If there's a god of psychopaths and murderers, he's it.”

“But the other gods locked him away, right? He's imprisoned.”

His eyes locked on mine then, as if to drive his next words home. “He is, but… I've been worried for ages that with our power so weakened, he might break free. The only thing that lets me sleep at night is the knowledge that he's likewise weakened. Probably even worse, since he hasn't been around to draw new followers, which is a good thing, because mankind gets into enough trouble on its own.”

The wheels in my mind were turning, and I didn't like any of the thoughts they were churning up.

“What is it?” Apollo asked.

Unlike him, I didn't have the ability to quell my thoughts. I kind of lived out loud.

I looked to the coin he'd covered as though it might produce answers. “What if…” I wanted to voice the thoughts even less than I wanted to think them. “Look, you've read the Harry Potter books, right? Or at least seen the movies?”

He nodded and waited.

I sighed and plowed on, knowing that denial was best left as a river in Egypt. “What if Set left something of himself behind, like Voldemort did with the horcruxes?”

He stared. “Come again?”

“Look, Neith explained to me about sympathetic magic, like clay figurines standing in for the actual animals and food and stuff that were supposed to accompany a person into the afterlife. What if these coins hold a piece of Set's
ba
…or is it
ka
? Anyway, a piece of his spirit? I'm sure the gods would have tried to erase images of Set like the Pharaohs tried to eliminate the names and all of their rivals, but some tokens always survive.”

Apollo froze like I'd hit him with the gorgon glare. But not just externally. His thoughts stopped entirely as though they'd just met an immovable barrier, one they couldn't brush past.

“No,” he said, horror now starting to slip through.

“And what if…what if just like the grave goods and all, the bloodshed and violence somehow nourishes him?”

“It can't happen.”

“It can't happen or we can't allow it to happen?”

“Both.” He pushed away the remains of his meal. “How can I help?”

My gaze shot to the coin again, and I considered for a minute whether I really wanted to put him through remembering everything he clearly wanted to forget. But people's lives were at stake, and he was made of sterner stuff. He could handle it, and he wouldn't thank me for babying him.

“There's a god or goddess for everything,” I said. “I thought there might be someone for tracking who could help me trace the coin back to the killers…to the Roland boys.”

“Like a bloodhound?”

“Yeah, but more, you know, mystic.”

“Well, there's Ichnaea, but… I haven't seen her in a dog's age. I don't know where she might be.”

“One way to find out.”

“Yiayia?” he asked.

“Yiayia,” I sighed.

My grandmother ran the gossip rag of the gods. She knew all there was to know about everybody…at least, everybody interesting. I had no idea whether Ichnaea was interesting or not. This was the first I'd heard of her.

“What's her story?” I asked, so I'd be prepared.

“Funny thing,” he said. “You know how Cinderella had those three fairy godmothers show up at her birth?”

“Hey, you made a pop culture reference!”

“Yeah, one that's ages old. Anyway, I had three witnesses at my birth as well. Goddesses—Ichnaea, Nemesis and Theia. In a very real sense, they are god-mothers, even though they didn't grant me beauty and grace.”

“Um, have you
looked
in the mirror lately? Any more beauty and I wouldn't be able to stand you.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“You're welcome. Anyway, I'll see if she's got contact info on Ichnaea.”

“Good. You call Yiayia; I'll call Hermes,” he said.

“Hermes?”

“I hear he sometimes uses her to track lost packages. He might have a current whereabouts.”

Right, packages. For his worldwide messenger service.

“Don't tell him more than you have to,” I said. We had enough chaos already without him deciding to add to it. I trusted Hermes about as far as I could throw him, but he'd just gotten back together with his wife Sigyn from his Loki incarnation, and I didn't trust her even that far. Sure, under duress, she'd helped us save the city of New York, but she'd also put runes on me at one point to make me compliant, and I still bore a grudge.

Apollo fixed me with a look. “You know the less I say, the more curious he'll be.”

Chapter Six

Something dropped from the ceiling at that instant, and I'm not ashamed to say I shrieked like a banshee, considering that it was the grandpappy of all spiders—about the size of my hand, black and brown furry legs, flashes of red. I rose from my seat so fast it fell over and I whirled away, ready to head for the door if the thing so much as moved. Spiders and heights were my kryptonite, though ever since I'd sprouted wings, the latter was fading, moving arachnids up to first place. Yay team.

It jumped to the desk and my heart nearly beat its way out of my chest. I backed up an extra few steps, not wanting to leave Apollo to fend for himself, but…

“Watch out!” I called, as though he might not have seen it for himself, but I couldn't spare a glance away from the spider to see what he would do. Smash it, I hoped, even though I was primarily a live-and-let-live type. I knew in the rational part of my brain that spiders were good. They kept down the insect population and all that jazz, but the rational part of my brain had been chased away by the jumping spider and now crouched in some corner of my brain rocking and sucking its figurative thumb. I
couldn't
look away, because if it moved again and vanished from sight I'd never be able to enter the office again, sure it hid in wait for me.

So when it started to grow…

When it started to grow, I froze, staring in horrified fascination.

“Freeze!” I yelled at it, but it laughed.

Laughed
, I swore it. That or I was losing my mind.

In terror and desperation, I tore my gaze away to look at Apollo, who knew my fear. I'd met Arachne.
The
Arachne. I'd nearly been killed by millions of her minions.

“Hermes, cut it out,” he snapped.

The spider clicked out something with its mandibles and began to change shape.

Anger started to replace fear. If this was Hermes and he was pulling some kind of prank…

I yanked off my shoe, ready to smash him flat, only to realize he was already too big for that. The laughter got bigger as he did, and I wished, probably for the first time ever, that I had my gun.

Half a second later there was a full-sized Hermes sitting on the edge of Apollo's desk, legs crossed, grin splitting his face from ear to ear.

“How long have you been here?” I asked, thanking the universe at large that Apollo and I hadn't used his desk as intended and given Hermes a show.

“Long enough,” he said. “Funny thing. People always say how they'd like to be a fly on the wall, but flies are so vulnerable, don't you think? Spiders are much more fun. Just think of Little Miss Muffet sitting on her tuffet…whatever the hells a tuffet is. I'm thinking it's not her badonkadonk, but…”

“
Hermes
!” I cut in, frustrated as always.

“Right, anyway, don't worry, I haven't been here long enough to know about that birthmark above your right buttock. It's just a simple little spell Sigyn helped me with. Kind of a ‘speak of the devil and he appears' sort of thing.”

“Hermes!” Apollo growled. Hermes's head swiveled toward Apollo, turning far enough around that I'd swear Owl was one of his aspects, though I'd never heard of it.

“Apollo,” he growled back.

“You will remove the spell at once.”

I limped around the desk to stand beside Apollo, so I could see Hermes assume an expression of wounded innocence. It sat surprisingly well on his face, even knowing it was all an act. “But it's come in so handy,” he said. “No sooner do you want me than I appear. Almost as though I am at your beck and call. Really, I think that thanks are in order.”

“You're lucky I didn't pound you flat,” I said, waving the shoe I still held in my hand.

“Well,” he said with a huff. “If I'm not wanted, I can simply scamper off.”

I thought again of the vanishing spider. I might never sleep again. What if Hermes decided to drop in on me while I slept…or hide under the blanket to tickle my toes. Or…

Apollo shot me a glance, apparently reading my stress level.

“You're here for a reason,” Apollo said, neither chasing him off nor begging him to stay. “Out with it.”

Hermes looked put out. Not nearly as put out as I felt, but I did my best to hold it in. He was a trickster god. It was in his nature. He couldn't help himself. And, well, he had helped us save the world a time or two, even against his self-interest. I just crossed my arms to keep from involuntary swattage.

“I'm bored,” he admitted, sounding like a five-year-old on a long car ride. “Titans rising, skeleton armies, plague demons, zombie hordes…there's just no going back to the daily grind. It's like…it's like drinking Dom Perignon and then finding all you have left is water. It's like Icarus soaring to the sun and then crashing to the ground. It's like…”

“Okay, we get it,” Apollo said. “You could always pick up a phone.”

Hermes fixed him with
a look
. “Can I? Can I really? Think who you're talking to.”

Apollo sighed heavily. I finally let my arms drop to my sides, anger ebbing. I let my boot drop as well and worked my foot back into it.

“Fine,” I said with bad grace. “Maybe you
can
help. Do you know how to find Ichnaea?”

“Yes and no.”

“Which is it?” I asked.

“I know her number, but she's no longer tracking packages for me. Not even the really important ones.”

“What's she doing?” Apollo asked.

“She's moved on to bigger and better things. Right now she's working for a group that helps track missing kids. Why do you need her?”

“Hermes,” Apollo said gravely. He paused a second, waiting for the tone of his voice and the look on his face to bring home to Hermes the seriousness of the situation. “Set is back.”

Hermes didn't say anything for a full minute. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him speechless. I didn't imagine it boded well.

“Not
back
, exactly,” I said, needing to cut the tension, “but possibly on his way.”

“I'm in,” Hermes said. “You tell me what you need me to do.”

Apollo and I exchanged a glance, and he shrugged.

“Right now, we need a tracker,” I answered. “Someone who can help us with this.”

I pushed Apollo's pencil holder away and lifted the napkin carefully to show Hermes the coin inside.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth with a low whistle. “Where did you find it?”

“On the unconscious body of a man left behind by two brothers on a murder spree.”

“So this guy came into contact with it? Direct contact? And they left him alive?” Alarm sharpened his voice.

“Yeah, why?” I asked, his concern infectious.

“He might not be entirely safe.”

“In what way?” Apollo asked.

“Let's just say that Freddy Krueger isn't the only monster who can reach you in your dreams.”

Fear shot straight through me. Viktor had mentioned dreams. Horrible dreams, and a man with white skin and flaming red hair. I said as much.

“Then he's been touched.”

“But what does that mean. Is he in danger?”

“He may
be
the danger.”

“What?” I asked, not at all excited over the concept of multiplying murderers.

“Have you ever heard the expression ‘touched in the head'?”

“Yeah.”

“It's not just a figure of speech.”

I groaned. “So how do we find out for sure?”

“Well, we can wait until he kills someone or we can take the coin to a specialist. Someone who's good with spells might be able to figure it out.”

“Like who?” I asked.

“Before Hecate joined the dark side, I'd have recommended her, but since she's not an option, I'd say Sigyn is the next best thing.”

“I thought her specialty was runes.”

“Many things in many cultures, remember?”

I wanted to hit my head against Apollo's desk…repeatedly. Not so long ago, Sigyn had been part of a cabal bent on remaking the world. She seemed to have come to her senses, but what if it was all an act? What if she'd loved the trickster god for so many years, she's adopted some of his antics? If that was the case, there was no way I could turn over to her a direct link to the god of chaos.

“Um, Apollo, can I speak with you privately for a minute?” I asked.

He looked dubiously at Hermes. “You could
try
,” he answered.

I looked at Hermes as well. He had on an innocent look and was pretending to study the ceiling.

“Oh, fine, whatever,” I said. “I'll ask you right here. Do you think Sigyn is trustworthy?”

Hermes started to speak and I held up a hand. “
Not you
,” I said.

Apollo thought about it. I couldn't hear the thoughts, but I could feel his mind whirring.

“As far as I know, she's always been loyal. Even that thing in New York…she was doing the wrong thing, but for what she perceived to be the right reasons. Like fallowing a field or setting a controlled burn to save a forest.”

“Great. And if she
perceives
we could all use a little chaos in our lives?”

“
Ffffttt
,” Hermes said. Or something like that. It sounded a lot like air escaping a tire. “She won't do it again. If you don't believe me, you come along. Watch her the whole time. Hell, record the whole thing.” He paused for a split second. “Although, I've got to say, if you two are going to go at it in any appreciable way, I want to be the one holding the camera.”

I picked up Apollo's pencil holder to lob at him and he held his hands up to protect himself.

“I give, I give!” he said, although we both knew it wouldn't really do him any harm.

“Look, I have a couple of killers to track down. I need to know right away about this coin, before Neith comes after it or rats me out to the police…”

Hermes shot up and met Apollo's gaze. “Is that true? She's back?”

“That's what I hear.”

“Well, holy hells, that woman knows how to hold a grudge. I'd better make myself scarce. More soon,” he said, and then vanished into thin air.

Neith must have him spooked. Usually he liked a little more pageantry.

I looked at Apollo. “Tell me I did the right thing.”

“You did the right thing.”

“You really believe that?”

“Yes.”

He didn't sound so sure, but I chose to believe him.