Sin City Goddess (32 page)

At last, Atropos called on Archer and me to approach the bench.

“Tisiphone, I am pleased with your performance, although I must say the life Gacy took might have been prevented with more diligence on your part.”

My wings fluttered, but I bowed out of respect anyway. “Yes, Your Highness. It shan’t happen again.”

Archer stiffened beside me. He was about to say something to defend me, so I pinched him to keep his mouth shut.

He did.

“Archer Mays,” said Clotho, the middle sister.

Archer stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “Yes.”

“You have served the gods well. I must say, I was impressed with your part in this mission.”

“Thank you. But Tisiphone did most of the work.”

Clotho smiled. She looked to her sisters. “Modest too. We don’t see much of that around here, do we, Sisters?”

I heard Hades cough behind me.

The other two Fates nodded.

“How did you feel about working with a Fury?” Lachesis asked.

Archer cleared his throat. “It was my pleasure.”

“Hmm.” Lachesis nodded.

The three Fates huddled together, their heads bobbing.

Archer and I exchanged a look. I shrugged. I didn’t know what was going on. Then again, I never did when it came to the court.

After a few moments, the three old goddesses sat upright.

“Archer Mays,” Clotho said, “I hereby deem you a demigod.” She cracked the gavel on the bench.

“Excuse me?” Archer asked.

She ignored him. “Tisiphone, see to it that he fills out the proper paperwork.”

I nodded.

“Paperwork?” asked Archer.

“He’ll need training, of course, and a formal introduction to the gods,” said Atropos.

Clotho said, “And a gift. What is it that he’s good at, Tisiphone?”

One thing sprang to mind, but I didn’t think it would make a good answer.

“A gift?” Archer asked.

“Well, you must be good at something,” Lachesis said. “What do you think you should be the god
of
? You understand, I’m sure.”

Atropos counted off on her fingers. “There are the gods of music, poetry, war, hunt, wisdom, technology… The list goes on.”

I looked at Archer with a raised brow.

He was completely dumbstruck.

“Perhaps, Your Highness, we can first assure that his gift does not interfere with that of another god,” I said. “I’m sure the new demigod wouldn’t want to impose on anyone’s duties.”

The three Fates considered this.

Clothos said, “Quite right. No rush, I suppose. You can just fill it in on the paperwork.”

With that, court was dismissed.

I waited for the Fates to file out. Then I grabbed Archer’s hand and said, “Come on” before they changed their minds.

Outside, beneath the full moon of the Underworld, I kissed the newest god of the pantheon.

Archer put his hands around my waist. “What just happened?”

“What just happened is that we don’t have to be separated anymore.”

“Well.” He kissed me back. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” I snuggled closer in his arms and buried my cheek in his chest, drinking in the scent of the clover soap he used.

“Hey, Tisi,” he whispered.

I looked at him. “Yes?”

“I’m really glad I died.”

I smiled. “Me too, Lawman.”

For the first time in as long as I could remember, I was happy. I had given my heart to another, and it felt good. It felt like it was meant to be, like it had always been Tisi and Archer.

Meg and Alex came out then, making smacking noises with their lips.

I broke away from my partner’s embrace.

“Oh, Archer, I love you,” Meg said to Alex in a singsong voice.

Alex turned to her and said in a similar tone, “Oh, Tisi, I love you too.”

Then they pretended to hug and kiss each other.

I tried, I really did, but the stress had been piling up for too long, and I couldn’t keep my fury at bay.

“That’s it.” I flew at both of them, tackling them to the ground simultaneously, and we rolled around, trying to strangle each other.

“Hey, stop that! Tisi, break it up.” Archer danced around us, not sure whom to pull off of whom.

Meg cut a right cross to my shoulder while Alex kicked me in the stomach. I grabbed my younger sister’s leg and flipped her on her back. She howled like a baby. I laughed. Then Meg body-slammed me into the ground, knocking the wind from my lungs. I grabbed her waist, and we tumbled into the sandaled feet of our dark lord.

I heard Archer ask, “Are they always like this?”

Meg slapped the back of my head, and I elbowed her ribs. Alex took a flying leap and piled on top of us.

Hades lit a cigar and put his arm around him. “Son, you have no idea. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink. You like to play poker?”

THE END

Author’s Note

This book is for anyone who has ever battled a demon. For anyone who has ever stared evil in the face and dared to fight back. For anyone who has refused to be a victim—and for those who were, who never had a voice, you do now.

While writers often invent villains, I chose to use a real-life monster in this story. What you read here regarding the details of John Wayne Gacy’s crimes, convictions, and pastimes is true. When the idea popped into my head (or, rather, the name, as I was writing one dark scene), I shunned it. I didn’t want him anywhere near this story, but the further away I pushed it, the more stubborn the muse grew. Something was telling me that Tisiphone had to battle this murderer—this once-living evil—and since the story knows best, she did.

Perhaps it was because the crimes and Gacy’s eventual arrest occurred close to my childhood home. Perhaps it was to enact a kind of literary justice for the victims, some of whom were never identified. Or perhaps it was to better understand Tisiphone’s views on humans and our justice system.

Whatever the reason, I hope this book encourages you to take back your power, no matter what you’ve battled.

There’s another historical figure in this story, James Butler Hickok. Wild Bill led an interesting, full life. This is from Wikipedia:

Born and raised on a farm in rural Illinois, Hickok went west at age 18 as a fugitive from justice, first working as a stagecoach driver, before he became a lawman in the frontier territories of Kansas and Nebraska. He fought for the Union Army during the American Civil War, and gained publicity after the war as a scout, marksman, actor, and professional gambler. Between his law-enforcement duties and gambling, which easily overlapped, Hickok was involved in several notable shootouts. He was shot and killed while playing poker in the Nuttal & Mann’s Saloon in Deadwood, Dakota Territory (now South Dakota).

Hickok was holding two pair when he was shot, all black aces and eights, known today as “dead man’s hand.”

One other component of this mythological tale that happens to be true came to me when I was nearly halfway through writing the book. I was researching the moons of the planet Pluto, Hades’s ruling planet, when I came across an article titled “Pluto’s Gate to Hell Uncovered in Turkey.” A Google search will lead you to articles about it and videos of the discovery, as well as to a visual interpretation of what the site may have looked like in ancient times.

Finally, fans of the Stacy Justice series might have noticed the appearances of that heroine in Tisiphone’s world. What can I say? I thought the woman needed a vacation. For readers unfamiliar with that paranormal-mystery series, I invite you to visit my website at
www.barbraannino.com
to learn more or head to Amazon to read a sample. If you would like
to be notified about upcoming releases of any series or title, feel free to email me at
[email protected]
or become a fan of my author page on Facebook.

Warm blessings,

Barbra Annino

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Terry Goodman for his confidence and encouragement and for allowing this author to stretch her writer’s wings. Thanks to Alison Dasho, my editor and the newest member of the Thomas & Mercer team. Here’s to the start of a beautiful friendship. Big applause to the T&M team and my author relations liaison, Jacque Ben-Zekry, for all they do for me and my work.

Much appreciation goes to my sharp beta readers, who make suggestions and comments and tell me straight-up how it is. George Annino, Leslie Gay, and Selena Jones, your feedback is invaluable.

Finally, thank you to my husband for convincing me that Tisi’s voice needed to be heard. You’re my Archer.

About the Author

Photo by George Annino

Barbra Annino is a native of Chicago who currently lives in Galena, Illinois. Her past occupations include bartender, humor columnist, and bed-and-breakfast owner, but she now writes fiction full-time. You can find out more about her by visiting
www.barbraannino.com
or
Facebook.com/AuthorBarbraAnnino
or by emailing her at
[email protected].