“I am not the only god who will not tolerate a breach of contract.”
“Understood. But since we haven’t broken the contract yet, well, only Crow has broken it, I say the rest of you are still in the green.”
“Green.”
“Maybe yellow. But we aren’t in the red yet. Trust me.”
I opened the Jeep door, waited to see if that brush off and false confidence would be enough to hold him. I knew he wasn’t the only god who was a stickler for contracts. I knew he wasn’t the only god who was angry about the missing powers.
Heck, if I were a god, I’d be angry about it and would certainly do a lot more than politely remind the police chief that she had screwed up big time.
“I will, Reed Daughter. But even my trust must be earned.”
And now my little goose bumps shivered to full quack. “I’m doing everything I can. We’ll find the powers. We’ll get them safely back under lock and key and if you want to reclaim your power and leave town, I’ll be more than happy to help with that too.”
He nodded, just a fraction of a movement. Rain spattered down on his head, soaking his dark hair and tracing rivulets through the creases of his face.
I wondered what he’d look like in an umbrella hat.
“I do not doubt you, Reed Daughter, but I do not trust in your choice of guardians for the power.”
“Yeah, maybe Crow wasn’t the best idea.”
“Hey!” he said from inside the Jeep.
“But it was his turn. I won’t make that mistake again.”
That seemed to ease some of the darkness in his gaze. “Excellent. If I can be of assistance, please do call upon me.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Than, I will. Two things: you might want to wear a jacket in the rain, or at least a hat. An umbrella is another popular wet-weather choice.”
His eyes glittered. I wasn’t sure if it was with humor or annoyance.
“And please call me Delaney.”
His mouth twitched, but didn’t quite pull into a curve.
Darn it.
I slid into the front seat of the car.
“Delaney?”
Death held a white envelope between his fingers. He must have pulled it out from beneath that crime-against-nature green shirt of his because it was mostly still dry.
“This is for you.”
“What is it?”
“An envelope, I presume.”
Ha-ha. Funny guy.
“From you?”
“I found it on your doorstep.”
My stomach clenched at those words. I mean, it wasn’t like people left me unmarked envelopes every day. I had every right to assume it contained trouble, bad news, or both.
“Thank you.” I took it, glanced at the front, which was plain white, unmarked, then the back, which was the same, and also sealed. “Would you like a ride?” I tucked the envelope into my inside pocket.
“Yes, thank you.” Than settled into the back seat of the Jeep. “If I may inquire, Crow,” he said primly. “Just where could one purchase such fetching head wear?”
Before Crow could answer, I started the engine and flipped on the windshield wipers hoping to drown out Crow’s laughter.
No luck.
Chapter 6
“Can I shoot him yet?” Jean sat on the edge of my desk, her foot swinging, her bubble gum pink hair pulled up into two tight buns above her ears.
“Who?”
She widened her eyes like she couldn’t believe I’d ask her that. “Our new, annoying mascot.”
“I heard that!” Crow slumped in a chair in the lobby. He’d somehow gotten hold of a stapler and a wastebasket and was shooting staples at the wastebasket from about five feet away.
“One more staple, and you’re paying for a year’s supply.”
I heard the quiet snick-click of the stapler shooting. “Bill him,” I said to Jean.
She grinned. “Bill him and make him take over our volunteer shifts for Bertie?”
Crow snapped out of his slouch and approached the empty front desk. “I object. That’s cruel and unusual punishment. I thought you needed my help to find the powers.”
I took a sip of coffee and studied him. He looked worried, which wasn’t an emotion I’d ever seen last with him. But then, I didn’t think he’d ever screwed up on this massive of a scale before.
“I brought you into custody to try and keep you out of trouble and also to try to keep you alive. You made a lot of enemies among the deities.”
He made a derogatory sound. “None of them like me anyway. I’m not afraid of them. They don’t even have their powers.” He waggled his eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes. “You know they don’t need their powers to kill you, right? Mortals have been offing mortals since the dawn of mortals.”
He didn’t look concerned. “What’s with the secret envelope you haven’t opened?”
“Secret envelope?” Jean asked.
I narrowed my eyes. He’d done that on purpose to divert the conversation. Brat.
I hadn’t opened it yet because I didn’t want to deal with whatever was inside it in front of Jean. I wasn’t sure if it was instinct or just because I was sometimes an over-protective big sister, but I wanted a look at the contents before I got her or Myra or anyone else involved.
“It’s not a secret.”
Crow raised his eyebrows. “So open it.”
I glared at him extra hard, which only made him smile extra wide.
“What envelope?” Jean asked again. “Where did you get it? Where is it?”
I sat back and put my cup down. “Death gave it to me. He found it on my doorstep this morning.”
“Death was on your doorstep?”
“He wanted to make sure I was making the finding of the powers a priority.”
“Okay, so why haven’t you opened the envelope?”
“It slipped my mind.”
She sat there and gave me a look that was so much like our mother that I almost laughed. “Fine, it didn’t slip my mind. I wanted to deal with it in private.”
“Why?”
“It was left on my doorstep, unmarked.” I tugged at my coat on the back of my chair and pulled the envelope out. “I wanted to make sure it was something we could handle before I shared it with you and Myra—and yes, I would have shared it with you.”
To demonstrate, I handed her the envelope. She took it at the edges, just like I did, and after a moment glancing at the front and back, held it up to the light. “A letter?”
“I think so.”
“Open it,” Crow said. “Seriously, I’ve never seen anyone take this long to open their mail.”
Jean pointed a finger at him. “You don’t get a vote.” She handed the envelope back to me. “Open it.”
I pulled out my pocket knife and used the sharp blade along the seam. There seemed to be just a piece of paper inside. In case I was wrong, I made a shooing motion to get Jean off my desk, then stood and tapped the open end of the envelope onto the desk. No powder or other substance fell out.
Paranoid? Maybe. We were a little town several decades behind bigger, more modern towns, and hadn’t had anything deadly mailed to any of the inhabitants. Still, we hadn’t had a vampire killed in town before either.
Progress wasn’t always a good thing.
I tugged at the paper inside, and unfolded it.
It was plain, white, unlined. The handwriting in black ink was neat, sharp, and slanted hard to the right.