“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a better way to use your talents.”
She said it so sweetly, it shouldn’t have sounded like a threat. But it totally was.
A shower was definitely in order. After a good hot soak in the nice strong spray, and as much vanilla body wash as I could spread over every inch of my skin, I stepped out of the shower and got dressed.
A quick glance out the window told me we were looking at rain with a chance of downpour today—no surprise there—so I gave my summer shorts one longing look and, instead, pulled on a pair of jeans and tank top.
Over the tank top I layered a thin T-shirt and over that I buttoned up my work uniform. I attached my badge over my heart, just below my name tag, and checked my reflection in the standing mirror propped against one wall.
Well, my tan wasn’t getting any traction this year, but my wash of freckles still spackled my nose, cheeks and forehead. Eyes with that in-between blue and green color looked a lot like my dad’s. I brushed my hair even though it was still wet and wrapped it back in a quick pony tail at the base of my neck.
I thought I had the kind of face and build that most people would say was average or maybe just on the athletic side of average. Jogging, which I’d missed out on yesterday, kept me lean, and my job kept my fashion choices practical.
I wondered what Ryder saw when he looked at me. Was I more police chief now than the girl he’d grown up with? Was I still the woman following doggedly in her father’s footsteps? Was I the small town girl he was just humoring?
Was I someone he could love?
Or was I the person who was going to lock him away?
And not in an adult-fun-time kind of way.
I pulled on socks and my boots—boots, in August—and walked through the small living room to the smaller kitchen.
“You’re out of cocoa mix.” Crow hunched at my table, elbows planted and palms spread on both sides of his face like he was trying to keep his head on where it belonged.
“Drink a little too much last night, did we?” I strolled over to my coffee pot, measured out grounds and hit the go button.
“That Valkyrie could out-drink a sailor. Or a fish. Or a sailor fish that’s been stranded in the desert with nothing to eat but salt for a week.”
He hadn’t moved so his words were coming out a little smooshed from how his mouth was also a little smooshed between his palms. His eyes were closed and he wore the same clothes I’d seen him in yesterday.
There was no umbrella hat in sight.
Thank goodness.
“She didn’t even let you get a change of clothes?”
“Said you’d handle that. Wouldn’t let me go home. Evil babysitter. I would have just slept.”
From the way his words sort of faded off there near the end, I wasn’t sure he hadn’t been sleeping at the table.
“Any ideas about the powers?”
“They’re still lost?’
He didn’t add to that, so I poured coffee in my big travel mug, threw in some sugar and cream and grabbed a granola bar out of the drawer.
“Let’s get to it.” I patted the top of his head.
“Don’ wanna.”
“Don’t care. You’re in my custody and I need to get to work.”
I walked out into the living room and pulled on my jacket. Maybe the rain would lighten up today.
Yeah, I might as well wish that the god powers would show up in a basket on my doorstep with a note on them.
“C’mon, Crow. Move it.” I opened the door. There was not a basket of god powers on my doorstep. There was a god.
Death, to be exact.
“Good morning, Delaney.”
“Hey, Than. What brings you by? Want to see me bleed again?”
He raised an eyebrow as if he had no idea what I was talking about.
“The last time you showed up on my doorstep? I got shot. I’m thinking you might be bad luck.”
“I am very good luck. You were lucky I was here, vacationing when you were shot, as your wounds did not prove fatal.”
I smiled. “Nice try. Just because you don’t have your power doesn’t mean someone can’t die, I recall you telling me that before you signed the contract to vacation in Ordinary. Although if someone does die, they’re gonna miss out on your delightful sense of fashion as their soul goes to the great beyond.”
He glanced down at his neon green shirt that said LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN across the chest. I wasn’t sure if it was a bowling team, or a comic book club, or maybe part of that croquet team Odin and Thor had pulled together.
“Are you insinuating that this attire is unsuitable to a vacationing man?”
“No. Not at all. Join the bowling team?” I pointed at his chest. “Shirt?”
“Polo.”
I wasn’t sure if he was telling me what kind of team he was on or shirt he was wearing.
“Come again?”
“I’ve joined the polo team.”
“We have one of those? With long handled mallets and horses?”
“We use croquet mallets.”
“So either you’re playing with a team of long-armed Sasquatch, or you’re riding really short ponies.”
He sniffed. “I take it you find this hobby of mine amusing?”
“No. I’m glad you’ve found a hobby. How goes the kite shop?”
Crow shuffled up behind me, zipping his coat and shoving a beanie over his head. He still looked hungover as hell, but at least he was moving. He produced the umbrella hat from out of nowhere and gingerly fastened it over his head.
Great.
Than’s obsidian eyes flicked to Crow, keen with interest in this new fashion statement, then away, as if ignoring a worm among the fruit.
“The shop is adequate. The sales are not. Weather,” he added as if I hadn’t noticed the non-stop rain. “But I did not come to discuss the weather.”
I stepped aside so Crow could exit my house, then followed him and Than off my tiny covered porch since there wasn’t enough room for three people to stand on it. Of course, now we were all getting wet—well, Than and I were. Crow looked smugly dry under his stupid hat. I started down the stairs.
“What did you come to discuss?”
“The contract of Ordinary. A contract you are currently in breach of.”
Right. Death. Had a steely eye for rules and dotted lines being signed.
“I thought only Mithra would take me to the mat for that.” Mithra was among other things, a god of contract. He had never been to Ordinary, as far as I knew.
“I assume you’re talking about the missing powers?” I went on. “Technically they are still inside Ordinary, still together in one place, and therefore still within the contract guidelines.”
“Do you know for certain that those things are true?”
We’d reached the bottom of the hill and I continued on to my Jeep. “No. But I don’t know they aren’t true.”
Crow sniggered and got into the passenger side of my Jeep. Than didn’t even crack a smile. But then, Than never smiled.
“One day,” I said. “One day I’m going to get you to smile, and it is going to be one of the proudest moments of my life.”
The eyebrow twitched again, but his face stayed the kind of bland that would make oatmeal jealous.