Deadly Descendant (4 page)

The air around him shimmered, and moments later, he disappeared, replaced by a massive black dog that looked like a cross between an Irish wolfhound and a pit bull. It barked loudly enough to rattle my teeth, then let out a fierce growl and bit the air.

It seemed I was the only one taken aback by Jack’s little stunt. I’d had no idea he could do that. I made a mental note to look up Loki on the Internet when this meeting was over. Honestly, I should have spent
some time researching everyone’s divine ancestors by now, but I was still trying to adjust to my new reality. I had enough trouble worrying about my own ancestor and abilities without looking into others’, at least for now. Maybe that was self-centered of me, but it helped protect my sanity.

Anderson shook his head in long-suffering patience. “Jack, sit. Stay. And shut up, while you’re at it.”

Jack gave him a doggie grin, complete with lolling tongue, then jumped back onto his chair, changing back into his human form in midair. I must have been staring at him in open amazement, because he turned to me and winked. I looked away quickly.

Phoebe was sneering again, and Cyrus’s eyes twinkled with humor. He seemed to think pretty much everything was funny—rather like Jack, come to think of it. It made him seem less dangerous, and I realized that was the point. With his dimpled cheeks, Cyrus wouldn’t be that good at overt menace, so camouflaging it to lull everyone into a false sense of security was probably a calculated strategy.

I put my speculation aside for the moment and looked at Phoebe. “What do wild dog attacks have to do with the
Liberi
?”

“They’re not really wild dog attacks,” she said, her every word dripping with condescension. Evidently, she didn’t have a very high opinion of my intelligence.

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t be here talking to us if they were,” I said. “I was just trying to move this conversation along.”

Phoebe glanced sidelong at Anderson, as if expecting him to chastise me for speaking out of turn. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Phoebe continued.

“In my vision, I saw a man with a jackal’s head being dragged through an institutional-looking hallway under armed military escort. I believe that means there’s a
Liberi
behind these attacks and that he’s descended from Anubis.”

The sum total of my knowledge about Anubis was that he was an Egyptian god with a jackal’s head. Despite everything I’d seen and been through already, I always felt a little shock of incredulity when hearing about someone being descended from a god. A mental
Yeah, right
was still my natural reaction, although I’d feel stupid about it two seconds later.

“If I’m right,” Phoebe continued, “we have to stop him before the mortals track him down. If the government gets its hands on a
Liberi
… Well, it would be bad. For all of us.”

Blake snorted. “Notice how the fact that there’s a
Liberi
out there killing people is completely irrelevant to this discussion. If the Olympians weren’t worried about their own hides, they’d just sit back and enjoy the show.”

“I don’t see any sign that
you’re
out there hunting the killer already,” she retorted.

“Oh, we were supposed to know already that these wild dog attacks are actually the work of a
Liberi
?” He raised his eyebrows at her in a mockery of polite inquiry.

“You know now,” Cyrus interjected, surprising me by taking the heat off of Phoebe. Not that I thought she appreciated it. “We don’t have to have great and noble intentions, do we?”

“Maybe you ought to try it sometime,” Blake said. The words were antagonistic, and yet there wasn’t the same rancor in his voice when he spoke to Cyrus as there was when he spoke to Phoebe.

Cyrus shrugged. “I don’t think it would suit me. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure it suits
you
all that well, either.”

It wasn’t Blake’s fault he’d been an Olympian—before Anderson came along, the choice was join the Olympians or die—but I’d often thought his moral compass was a little short of due north. With his casual words, Cyrus seemed to have finally hit a nerve, and Blake clenched his jaw so hard I could see his bones outlined against his cheeks.

“So,” Anderson put in before tensions could escalate, “do you have any idea what this
Liberi
’s powers are? How is he killing these people? And why is he doing it, especially here, of all places?”

Here in the
Liberi
capital of the world, he meant. Because the Olympians were headquartered here, the D.C. area had the highest number of
Liberi
per capita of anywhere in the world, by a wide margin. It was like the killer was just
daring
the Olympians to come after him and “harvest” his immortality.

“We’re not sure how he’s doing it,” Phoebe answered. “Our best guess is that he can control anything canine and that when he wants to kill, he just
summons all the stray dogs in the area and commands them to maul his victim. As for why …” She shook her head. “Either he doesn’t know the kind of danger he’s putting himself in, or he’s just plain crazy. Serial killers don’t necessarily need reasons—at least, not reasons that make sense to ordinary folk.”

Phoebe turned to fix her eyes on me. “We will, of course, do our best to help find this
Liberi
and stop him. However, now that you have a descendant of Artemis in your fold, you probably are better equipped for the hunt than we are.”

Although she was looking straight at me, she was obviously talking to Anderson. That didn’t stop me from answering.

“You left out one strong possibility for why Dogboy would be wreaking havoc in D.C.,” I said. “Like he knows perfectly well that this is the Olympian headquarters, and he has a major grudge against Olympians. I mean, I can’t imagine why, since you guys are all sweetness and light and everything, but I think the possibility bears examining.”

The look Phoebe gave me was positively chilling—I seem to have a talent for pissing off Olympians.

“I can’t imagine why someone who has a grudge against us would attack a bunch of mortals,” she said. “That would be more likely to hurt
you
than
us
.” She flashed Anderson a sly smile. “Perhaps it’s someone who has a grudge against
you
? You have been around a while, and I’m sure you’ve made some enemies in your day.”

I’d seen ample proof that Anderson had a temper,
and a scary one at that, but he showed no sign that Phoebe’s insinuations had gotten under his skin.

“I’m not aware of any descendant of Anubis who might wish me ill,” he said mildly, “though I suppose it’s possible. I have, as you said, been around for a while. But then, so has Konstantin.”

She conceded the point with a shrug. “I don’t think it much matters why the killer is in D.C. He has to be stopped, before the mortals get their hands on him and our existence is exposed.”

The overwhelming concern for human life was touching, to say the least. But despite her selfish motivations, she was right, and this guy had to be stopped. Assuming anything she’d told us was the truth, though I couldn’t imagine what she’d have to gain by making this up.

Cyrus suddenly stood up straight for the first time, his gaze focused somewhere behind my left shoulder. I couldn’t resist glancing behind me to see what he was looking at.

Emma stood in the hallway, just outside the living room. Her glossy black hair hung loose around her shoulders, making her skin look even paler and more delicate than usual. The ruby-red lipstick heightened the effect even more, though I already knew she wasn’t as delicate as she looked.

Cyrus had stopped smiling, his expression turning solemn as he met Emma’s gaze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anderson stiffen ever so slightly, and I knew why. Konstantin and Alexis, his then right-hand man, had raped Emma while she was their prisoner.
Anderson couldn’t help wondering if any of the other Olympians had participated. Emma, apparently, refused to talk about it.

I think Cyrus saw and understood the speculation in Anderson’s eyes, too, and he gave Emma a courtly half bow.

“What my father did to you was unnecessarily cruel,” he said, and he sounded sincere enough. “He’ll never apologize for it himself, so I’ll do it on his behalf.”

Phoebe made a sound of annoyance. “Oh, stop posturing, Cyrus. I never heard you complaining during the years she was our ‘guest.’”

Emma stood silent and motionless in the hall; then she shivered and crossed her arms over her chest. I couldn’t imagine the hell she’d gone through, and for the moment, I forgot her frequent bitchy spells and just felt sorry for her.

“I’d have complained if I’d thought it would make a difference,” Cyrus said. His words seemed directed to Emma rather than Phoebe.

“Because you’re such an all-around nice guy?” Blake needled. His tone made the barb sound almost friendly, like there was no real rancor behind it. If I had to guess, I’d say Blake actually
liked
Cyrus, despite the antagonistic potshots he’d been taking.

Cyrus finally pried his gaze away from Emma and glanced at Blake, his expression solemn. “Because I’m not my father.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes and rose to her feet. “I think we’re done here.”

“I agree,” Anderson said tightly. This talk of Emma’s ordeal had clearly gotten to him. He stood up, his attention torn between Emma, who was now silently crying, and the Olympians, who were technically his guests—and whom he didn’t trust for a moment.

“I’ll show them to the door,” Blake offered.

Anderson nodded his approval, then quickly crossed to Emma and gathered her into his arms.

After briefly accepting Anderson’s
hug, Emma pulled away and gave him a quavering smile. She looked frail and broken, quite unlike the battle-ax I knew she was capable of being.

“Why don’t you come sit down?” he asked her gently. “I’ll fill you in on what you’ve missed.”

But Emma shook her head. “I think I need to lie down for a little while.”

Call me a cynic—or an insensitive bitch—but no matter how sorry I felt for Emma, I couldn’t help being annoyed at what seemed a blatant attempt at manipulation. The pathetic way she was looking at him said she wanted him to come with her and comfort her. I didn’t know how much of our meeting with the Olympians she’d overheard, but she had to know that we’d been discussing something important. There was no other reason Anderson would have let the Olympians cross his threshold. And yet she wasn’t
even interested enough to find out what was going on before she tried to draw him away.

Anderson stroked a tear from her cheek. “Are you sure? Maybe—”

“I’m sure,” Emma interrupted. There was a slight edge in her voice, like she was really put out that Anderson might think there were more important things in the world than cuddling her when she cried. She put her nose in the air and made a tastefully dramatic exit just as Blake returned from seeing the Olympians out.

“You’re not seriously considering teaming up with the Olympians, are you?” Blake asked Anderson the moment Emma was out of sight.

Anderson glanced at him but didn’t say anything as he took his time crossing the room and sitting down. He was generally pretty easygoing and wasn’t the type to bark out orders. Not the kind of guy who screams “alpha male” with every word he speaks and every move he makes. And yet he was an alpha male through and through, and I don’t think he much liked Blake’s tone.

Anderson sat back in his chair, making himself comfortable before he deigned to answer the question. “We’re certainly not ‘teaming up’ with them. However, it’s possible that just this once, their interests and ours are in line.”

“If anything Phoebe said was true,” Blake countered.

“Well, the part about the dog attacks was true,” Jack said. “And you have to admit, that’s not something
you’d expect in the heart of the city. And the victims were all adult men. It’s a rare pack of wild dogs that would attack an adult male.”

“Since when have you become an expert in dog behavior?” Blake countered.

Jack grinned. “Wasn’t it just this morning you called me a son of a bitch?”

I winced and groaned. “Ugh. That’s bad even for you.”

“Honey, I save my A material for people who are capable of appreciating my genius.”

I knew he’d called me “honey” with the express purpose of irritating me, but that didn’t stop the surge of indignation. I’d have dazzled him with my own witty repartee, except Jack was sitting there grinning at me, ready to pounce on my response. He loved being the center of attention, and I didn’t want to play into his hands.

Lucky for me, Anderson intervened before I lost my ability to contain my retort. “Let’s stay on topic, people. When Phoebe called me to request this meeting, I did a little fact checking, and there have indeed been three fatal dog attacks recently. Jack’s right that it’s all pretty bizarre. What kind of wild dog pack is randomly going to maul three adult men, all in different parts of the city, and with absolutely no witnesses?”