“Great!” Crow said too quickly. “I’ll come with you.”
“No. You stay here with Myra and Jean. I don’t want you to screw this up.”
“Hey, now,” Crow said. “Uncalled for.”
“Where are they, Delaney?” Zeus asked.
“I can’t tell you.”
“They are our powers,” Aaron said again.
“I know they are. You know I don’t want them. I just want to get them back to all of you without any other complications.” I started toward the door, trying to look cool, hoping they didn’t see the sweat rolling down the back of my neck. “As soon as I have them in my possession, you’ll know. I’ll bring them to you all, probably out at Odin’s since it’s his turn to watch over them.”
“It’s still my turn to look over them.” Crow shrank back from the mob that glared daggers at him. “Fine. Jeeze.”
“Who took them?” Odin asked.
I shook my head and moved past him. “That’s not something I can share yet.”
“Was it Ryder?” Aaron asked.
Ryder—who had been making his way through the throng of bodies toward the door as inconspicuously as a mortal among gods could—paused.
“No, it wasn’t Ryder.”
“Was it a mortal?” Zeus asked.
“That information is classified.”
“We’ll know,” Zeus went on. “When we get them back. We’ll know who or what touched what is rightfully ours. We could know now if we wanted to.”
“Sure. If you wanted to leave Ordinary to go claim them. You know they’re out of Ordinary, knew the moment they were taken outside Ordinary. Are any of you going to go get them, ‘cause it would save me a trip.” I waited. The gods didn’t look like they were willing to give up their vacation time for chasing down their powers.
“No.” Aaron sounded annoyed.
“Okay then. I’ll go get the powers, bring them back, and we’ll make sure they are held in a better place. A more secure place.”
“It was secure,” Crow muttered. “This shouldn’t have happened. I had it locked against everything in Ordinary.”
Odin made a little “hm” sound to that, and turned his single eye on me.
He wasn’t the god of wisdom for nothing.
I gave him a big bright, and hopefully distracting smile. “So I’ll be back soon, with the powers. Make sure you turn off the coffee pot before you leave.”
That shouldn’t have worked. With a house stuffed full of gods, I shouldn’t have been able to just waltz out of there on a promise and a smile.
But Crow started bitching, Aaron started accusing, and Myra and Jean started crowd controlling.
Which was the perfect distraction for our exit.
We made it all the way to my Jeep before Death caught up with us.
Or rather, we caught up with him. He was standing next to my car, almost exactly where I’d been shot, his eyes at some distant point that I’d probably never see. I hadn’t seen him leave the house.
“Hey, Than,” I said.
“Delaney.” Then with the slightest frown: “Mr. Bailey.” Those cold eyes stared right into Ryder and I didn’t blame Ryder for stopping mid-step. Even though Than wasn’t currently in possession of his power, he was still Death.
It was the sort of thing one couldn’t ignore. Especially when one was being surveyed as if one were being fitted for a casket.
“Hello,” Ryder said.
“You are not what I would have chosen.” The comment was sonorous and creepy.
“Okay.” Ryder looked to me. I shrugged.
“Chosen for what?” I asked.
Than folded his hands in front of his bright pink coat. The logo on the coat probably should have said HAPPY KITES, but because of a poor choice of fonts, it seemed to say HAPPY KILLS.
“You will bring the powers back to us, Delaney?” It wasn’t the answer I wanted.
“That’s the plan.”
“Plans change,” Death said.
“Sure.”
“So do people.”
“Right.”
“But some can not change. They simply become what they are meant to be.”
“Spooky,” I said. “And really obscure.”
His eyes flicked over to Ryder again. “Oh, I think I was very specific.”
“Should I understand any of this?” Ryder asked.
“Probably not. I certainly don’t. Nice jacket,” I said to Than.
“Ah.” Than brightened. “Thank you. I will be selling them at my shop.”
“Happy Kills?” Ryder asked.
“Happy Kites,” Death corrected.
“Right,” Ryder lied. “I see that now. Happy Kites. The A-frame kite shop off the highway that looks like a haunted shack, named Happy Kites.”
“It is authentic. Rustic. A place to bring children. Perhaps I will hire a clown to stand out front.”
“No!” I cut in. Because, seriously, clowns? Could anything be creepier? “Maybe just put a sign on it so people know it’s a kite shop.”
“Oh, I’m having it installed today. Pink, with the name of the shop.”
“Just like your jacket?” I asked.
“Just so.”
Oh dear gods. We were going to be the only beach town with a haunted house kite shop with a bloodthirsty pink sign.
“Great,” I said, not wanting to stay and argue with Death over his graphic design choices. “Well, Ryder and I have a date.”
Ryder choked on something.
My face flushed. “I mean a thing. An appointment to get to. So we can do that thing together. For. You know. Justice.”
“Justice,” Death repeated. “Is that what that thing is called now?”
“Yes. Justice.”
“When on a date a man and a woman justice each other.” Death blinked slowly at me. “Do I have that correct, Delaney?”
“Yes.” My voice strangled and I was sure Ryder noticed, which just made me want to smack one of them. Both of them.
“I can only assume you will take the necessary protection with you,” Death said.
“Don’t worry,” Ryder said. “I never leave home without it.”
“You both suck,” I mumbled.
“What was that you said?” Death asked.
I ignored him and climbed into the Jeep. Ryder slid into the passenger side. Death, wisely, stepped aside as I cranked the engine and started down the drive.
“Where are we going?” Ryder asked. “I mean since it’s a date, and we’re gonna justice each other, I want to know if I’m dressed appropriately.”
“You are a jerk.”
He grinned. “You’re cute when you blush.”
“Shut up. Never leave home without it? I’d rather not share that part of my personal life with Death.”
“I was talking about my gun. For protection, remember? I’m a reserve officer, I always carry it. What did you think I was talking about?”
“Ha-ha-larious.”
He grinned again. “So, gods, huh? The real all mighty fire and brimstoners own kite shops?”
“Yeah, in Ordinary they do. Believe it or not.”
“Not. But then I didn’t believe in vampires a few years ago. Rossi...” He squinted out at the scenery. “Yoga blood sucker. That’s one I’ve never heard of.”
“You don’t think vampires should do yoga?”
“Seems a little out of their norm.”
“There’s a norm?”
“You know...darkness, goth, eyeliner.”
“Wow. Racial profiling much? What kind of vampires have you met?”
Something flickered in his expression. I knew exactly the kind of vampires he’d met.
“The intense ones.”
“Rossi’s intense.”
“I can see that. But he’s also...human.”