Gods and Swindlers (City of Eldrich Book 3) (33 page)

“Y
OU’RE FEELING BETTER,”
Marnie said as they headed down to the kitchen.

“I am.”

“You still need to call my therapist, but you already know that,” Marnie said. “Sorry. I know the mind-reading thing creeps you out. Creeps me out, too. I’m learning to filter stuff out, but it’s still hit or miss, and I can’t shut you out right now.”

“Good thing,” Meaghan said.

“Normally, you’re a lot murkier. You can put up some formidable walls when you want to.”

“You sound like my friend in Phoenix. Elena. She’s psychic, too.”

“Tía Nancy’s cheese enchiladas,” Marnie said. “You really like those. You’re beaming them right into my head.”

“Russ hates them,” Meaghan said. “Velveeta cheese and canned sauce.”

“Oh, yeah, he would hate that.”

They stepped into the kitchen. It was warmer than it had been upstairs. Russ, as usual, was at the stove, stirring something with an intent look on his face. Buzz, Sam, and Dustin sat at the table, entranced, listening to Terry.

“So then Olaf, the crazy bastard, swings the axe, but he’s so drunk he misses and spins in a full circle and lands on his ass in the snow. Leif was laughing so hard, he didn’t see Olaf pick up the axe, then whack! Olaf cuts off Leif’s left toes. Clean cut, boot and all.”

“Did he die?” Dustin asked, eyes wide.

“Oh, hell no. Those guys barely noticed shit like that. You couldn’t get into Valhalla from something as piddly as lost toes. He swore at Olaf, hobbled off to the healer, and came back to the party when the bleeding slowed down. Of course, he was drunk too, so he wasn’t feeling any pain.” Terry grinned and drained his coffee cup. “Olaf felt kinda bad when he sobered up, but Leif was fine. He ran a little funny after that, but no lasting harm done.” He shook his head. “Good times. Hey Meg, what’s up?”

“Just checking in,” Meaghan said. “And Marnie and I need to have a chat with Sam. How’s the lightning coming along?”

“Amazing,” Terry said with manic grin. “I’ve never had control like this.” He bounced to his feet and held out his cup. “Russ, top me off, okay?”

“I can’t,” Russ said. “We’re out.”

Terry blanched. “Out? I’ve got some at my house.”

Russ shook his head. “We drank that already. There’s like twenty people in this house. You’ve cleaned me out.”

“What about the neighbors?” Terry asked, a panicked look in his eyes.

“Nobody’s here, remember?” Meaghan said. “Edna’s in Florida for the winter, the Franzettis are on a cruise, Barton is on sabbatical somewhere in Europe, and the house next to you—”

“The MacDougalls,” Russ said. “It’s been empty since Ed’s kids moved him into the nursing home.”

“Franzetti drinks espresso,” Terry said. “I bet he’s got coffee.”

“You got a key?” Meaghan asked.

Terry rubbed his fingers together. “Don’t need a key.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Meaghan said, no longer amused.

Terry’s an addict,
Marnie warned her.
We need to shut this down fast.

Meaghan nodded. “You’re my biggest weapon, Terry. You can’t risk yourself. This is about them wanting us to give you up. You really think running out into the snow for more coffee is a good idea?”

Terry shook his head. “But—”

“You want me to wake up John?” Meaghan asked.

“No, but, the caffeine, it’s why my control is so good,” Terry said.

“Terry, you got so much caffeine in you right now you aren’t gonna sleep for days,” Buzz said. “You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Mr. Terry,” Sam said in his small voice, “your value to us is greater than your skill with the lightning. You are the smith.”

Terry stared at Sam, as regret, fury, and fear fought for control of his face. “I’m going to Franzettis’.”

Meaghan stomped down the hallway after him. “Terry, goddammit, get back here.” She grabbed his arm. “Are you nuts?”

Terry turned and glared at her, and, for a moment, her affable neighbor was gone, replaced by the angry thunder god. “Let go of my arm, Meg.”

Meaghan felt a chill, now understanding why people used to fear him.
But I’m not one of those people.
She squared her shoulders and glared back. “Or what?” she said in a soft voice. “Because I can’t think of anything you can do to me that a dragon can’t do better. Go ahead. Smite me. It has to be better than being burned alive. Because that’s what will happen if you aren’t there to back me up.”

“Back
you
up?” Terry glared for a moment, then looked away.

Meaghan relaxed a tiny bit. She’d won the stare-down, at least. “Yeah, because this dragon has magic and I can’t tell you about it because you won’t remember. It can stun you if you get too close.”

As she expected, the dreamy look arrived on Terry’s face. “Don’t worry, Meg. I’ll take care of that dragon.” Then the look cleared, and Terry, the Terry she knew, looked back at her. “What the hell just happened? My ears are buzzing.”

“Magic,” Meaghan said. “That’s why you need to trust me. You need to follow my orders and trust me. And right now, you can’t go charging out there for more coffee.”

“No need.” Russ appeared at Meaghan’s elbow, holding a bag. “Found some tucked into one of the boxes the Millers brought over.”

Terry gave Meaghan a haughty look and plucked the bag from Russ’s hands. “Let’s get this brewed up right now.”

As Terry sauntered back to the kitchen, Meaghan turned back to Russ. “Were you stashing that?”

“Luka asked me to try to slow him down a little, but obviously now’s not the time.”

Nice save, Meg,
Marnie’s voice echoed in her brain.
But we need to keep an eye on this.

Agreed,
Meaghan thought back. Increased control of the lightning was a good thing, but she hadn’t liked the nasty look in Terry’s eye when she’d tried to take his latest addiction away from him.

“Let’s be glad it’s only coffee,” Meaghan said to Russ. “Don’t let him anywhere near the moonshine.”

“Aggie told me they left it out in the back of Luka’s truck. It won’t freeze and it keeps it away from people who shouldn’t be near it.”

“Where are Aggie and Hank?”

“They went back over to Terry’s house,” Russ said. “They aren’t used to being around this many people. They’ll come over after the con is run. We don’t want the elves to know about them.”

“No, I guess not. Keep an eye on the over-caffeinated thunder god, okay? I’ve got my own planning to do. I need to talk to Sam.”

But everybody else wanted to talk to her first and it was nearly three before Meaghan dragged Sam into the dining room and pulled the pocket door shut behind them.

She could see her breath from the cold. “You warm enough?”

Sam nodded. “Are you?”

“Not really,” Meaghan said. “But I’ll be fine. I need your help.”

Sam beamed. “I will do it.”

Meaghan sighed. She hadn’t wanted to ask him. He looked so frail, so small, like a skinny child. But he wasn’t a child, she reminded herself. He’d already escaped from a slave labor camp, survived a confrontation with a wild troll, and stared down Steph.

And he’d passed the test. Everyone else—even Buzz—got dreamy at the mention of the dragon, but Sam had stared back at her intently.

“You’ve seen what happens when I talk about the dragon,” Meaghan said. “That’s part of the stunning magic. People can’t remember when you warn them.”

“I am impervious,” Sam said. “Like you. But the others are in danger.”

“Yes,” Meaghan said. “Marnie will try to protect them.”

“The one who was a witch,” Sam said.

“She’s something else now. Something powerful and she can read thoughts. She’ll need your help.”

“Who will help you?” Sam small face grew even more serious. “The smith . . . I fear he may not be able to help you. I upset him. I made him remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Of when he was Wayland,” Sam said. “When he was a prisoner.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Wayland, the god of smiths,” Sam said. “Surely you know the story.”

Meaghan shook her head.

There was a gentle rap on the door. “Meg?” Luka called through the closed door. “It’s time.”

“Who’s Wayland?” Meaghan asked as she pulled open the door.

Luka stepped inside and slid the door shut. “Who told you about Wayland?”

Meaghan jerked her thumb at Sam.

Luka sighed. “I knew you’d eventually connect the dots.”

“Terry’s god of the smiths, too?”

“Sort of,” Luka said. “It’s a longish story and it’s why he hates the fair folk so much and after fifteen hundred years, he’s still not really over it. The limp is gone, but the emotional scars are still there.”

“The limp?”

“They cut his hamstrings and chained him to his anvil to keep him from running.” Luka shook his head. “I’ll tell you about it when this is over.” Anticipating her retort, he said, “I know you hate the secrets, but we can barely talk to him about it ourselves. He’s terrified everyone will hate him if they hear the story. The details aren’t relevant to what’s going on now beyond the fact the fair folk set the whole thing up.”

Meaghan nodded. “Is this what he means when he says he used to be a major dick?”

Luka gave her a sad smile. “Partly. Terry’s a good man and he would have been happy living out his life in our little Irish village casting bronze axes and making copper jewelry. Instead, he got mistaken for a god. Several gods. It’s been a big burden for him to carry.”

“What about you?”

Luka smile broadened. “Oh, I’m a scoundrel. Always have been. I didn’t need a magical explosion to turn into a crook. All it did was give me better tools and the time to set up really long cons.”

“But you’re legit now, right?”

Luka shrugged. “I operate within the confines of the law. For a financier, that’s not saying much.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “We need to get this thing rolling before Terry goes into cardiac arrest from all the coffee.”

Chapter Forty-One

L
UKA WENT THROUGH
the plan again with Brian, Meaghan, Owen, and Marnie. Gretchen had briefed the witches and they were ready downstairs. Everyone else was upstairs with Kady, saying their goodbyes to Matthew. According to Steph, it was getting close.

“I’m not sure I can play drunk now,” Terry said before excusing himself to go upstairs. “I’m too wired.”

“That’s a relief, although I’m not sure this much coffee is a good idea either,” Owen said after Terry had left. “Caffeine is a drug, too.”

Luka nodded. “One crisis at a time. It’s better than the boozing and he does have more control of the lightning now. Let’s do a quick practice run with the knife. You got a blood bag on?”

“Yeah. Hang on.” Owen stripped off his sweater, revealing a white T-shirt. “It’s cold in here. Hurry up.”

“Where’s the bag?” Luka asked.

“Under my T-shirt. Russ scrounged up some balloons so we should get a good spread, but I want to make sure it works through cloth.”

“You got the pin?”

Owen held up a safety pin and nodded. “Meg, you’ll need to do the same thing when Brian stabs you, so watch carefully.”

“I’ll say ‘here’s my good faith gesture’ or something similar,” Luka said, “and then—” He took two quick steps toward Owen, grabbed his shoulder, and pulled back the knife. “Meg, watch what Owen does. He’s got the pin in his hand and when I stab . . .” Luka lunged forward. “Owen will pop the balloon.”

Owen grabbed the knife hilt as Luka stabbed, and in a moment, the red stain blossomed across his shirt.

“Nice,” Luka said with a grin.

“Did you see how it worked?” Owen asked. “Let me see you palm the pin.”

After a few tries, Meaghan could successfully hide the pin between her fingers and pop it open with a surreptitious press of her thumb.

“Now drop your head and kind of curl around Brian’s hand when he stabs,” Luka said. “That gives you plenty of opportunity to get the pin open and poke the balloon. Don’t overdo the death scene. Make sure the elf sees the blood, then get onto the ground without hurting yourself. I broke my nose once adding a dramatic but totally unnecessary face plant.”

“What happens if I flub it or drop the pin?” Meaghan looked at Luka, then Brian. “Then what?”

“I can pop it with blunt force,” Brian said. “But you might get a bruise. Along with the other ones I might give you. I’ll try to pull my punches. Do it like we practiced and we should be okay. And please don’t kick me in the nuts. I know you’re good at that.”

“I promise,” Meaghan said. “Are we ready?”

Luka grinned. “Oh, yeah. This should be fun. I’ve missed this a lot.”

Her conversation with John passed through her mind.

I think he trusts himself maybe a little too much
 
.
 
.
 
.

So sharp he can cut himself
 
.
 
.
 
.

You noticed it, too?

Meaghan glanced over at Marnie, who was staring at her.

Meaghan nodded.
Will this work?