Sin City Goddess (16 page)

I was stunned. “She stabbed you?”

“Yep.” He got out of bed and put his shirt on. “Said I was always choosing my job over her. She was drunk. Things got ugly. I took her keys when she tried to drive home from
the restaurant where we were having dinner. She grabbed a steak knife and ruined my best shirt. The next day, I told her I wanted a divorce.”

He sounded melancholy.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It was for the best. She was never going to stop drinking, and I was never going to stop being an agent. We were both miserable.”

“And that’s when you took to drink?” I asked.

He hesitated before he spoke again. “Actually, I never did that. I just said that because I didn’t want to tell you that Cheryl was an alcoholic.”

“Why not?” Did he still love her? Did he still think about her?

Archer sighed. “I guess it’s because I protected her for so long. Took care of her for so long. It’s a habit that’s hard to break. Even after that person dies.”

“She died?” That meant she must have been somewhere in the Underworld.

“Wrapped her car around a tree a year after our divorce was final. She told me she was trying to quit drinking the day before. Said she wanted to reconcile. I believed her. Until I got that phone call.”

How awful. First she lost Archer, then her life. To not get a second chance to battle your demons, to rectify your mistakes, was the cruelest form of fate.

“It was a long time ago, Tisi. And I’m dead, remember?” Archer said when I grew quiet.

“You could find her. In the Underworld. I could help you.” I didn’t really want to, but if it eased his suffering, I would.

Archer stared at me for a long while. His voice was softer when he said, “I buried those ghosts a long time ago,
Tisiphone. I am not a man who looks back. I believe in starting with what’s right in front of me and moving forward.”

I didn’t say anything. I was speechless.

He pointed at the door. “Now, there’s a dog the size of a garbage truck behind this door who wants to sink his teeth into my ass. So are you going to escort me past Cujo so I can take a shower and get dressed?”

I didn’t know who Cujo was, but I climbed out of bed anyway and padded over to the door.

“Hey, your wings. I can’t see them anymore,” Archer said.

I turned to check my reflection in the mirror.

He was right. They were cloaked again. I didn’t know how Hecate’s potions worked, but I was relieved. Not only because they were hidden, but because I knew I could call on them if need be.

When I opened the door, Cerberus was sitting there, still as a gargoyle, gently wagging his tail.

I patted his head and pointed to Archer. “Good guy. He’s on our side, all right, Cerberus?”

The dog swung his giant head toward my partner. He looked doubtful, even a bit disappointed, but he slunk off anyway.

Archer thanked me and headed for his room. I had just opened the dresser drawer to gather clothing for the day, when I heard. “Aw, dammit! He peed on my bed!”

I left Archer to bond with our new roommate while I showered and dressed.

Twenty minutes later, wearing jeans, boots, and a black tank top, I joined the two of them in the common area.

Cerberus had his head in Archer’s lap. The man was gently stroking the hound’s fur as he watched the morning newscast. A soft sigh slipped through the jowls of the beast.

I eyed Archer suspiciously and parked my hands on my hips. “That was fast.”

“I gave him a beer. Three, actually. He loves the stuff.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the room-service menu. “Did you at least let him out to do his business first?”

“He already did his business on my bed. Besides, I couldn’t find a leash.”

“You don’t leash a hound of Hades. It’s undignified. You just let him out. He’ll find his way.”

“I don’t think they allow pets. We could get ourselves kicked out of here. Not to mention there are leash laws in Las Vegas.”

I peeked over the menu at Archer. “And who would stop him?”

Archer looked at Cerberus. “Good point.” The dog shifted his head to the side, indicating he wanted his left ear scratched. Archer obliged.

I picked up the telephone. “Would you like an omelet?”

“Sure. Western.”

I ordered two omelets, six orders of sausage, eight orders of bacon, and two dozen scrambled eggs. Plus coffee and Gatorade.

Archer said, “I bought Gatorade.”

I canceled the Gatorade and thanked the person on the other end of the phone.

Archer told me the Gatorade was in the refrigerator. I opened it and discovered the juice in every color of the rainbow. I looked at Archer.

It was so thoughtful. There weren’t many in my life who were that considerate of my wants and needs.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Check the duffel bag.”

I unzipped the black-and-blue bag and saw two silver, electronic-looking devices with numbers on the top of them. I pulled them out and set them on the table.

“Those are called cell phones. So we can stay connected. They’re prepaid phones, so you just buy them at the store, no need to sign a contract or anything. No bells and whistles, but they’ll do for our purposes.”

I had no idea what he was talking about or how to use the device, but the concept appealed to me. Beneath the phones was a firearm, for Archer, I assumed, and a sword for me. I extracted the sword from the bag. It wasn’t a large sword, and not nearly as heavy as I was used to, but after I enchanted it, it would conform to my hand, surge with my flesh, and become a part of me.

“Is it okay? I got it at Excalibur.”

I smiled at Archer. He was wearing khaki shorts and a button-down shirt with blue waves running through it that brought out the green in his hazel eyes.

“It’s perfect.”

I ran my hand along the shiny blade of the sword. The hilt was a dragon’s tail, the pommel its head, and the guard its wing. The dragon’s head was punctuated with one purple eye.

We had two traits in common, the sword and I. Making it my own should not be a problem.

I had my sword and my wings. I was ready for battle.

“So, Sassy, you want to tell me what happened last night?” Archer asked.

I placed the sword on the table and grabbed a Gatorade just as our food arrived. Two carts full. I asked the delivery person to leave the food outside so he wouldn’t see the hound.

After he left, I wheeled it in. Archer set the trays on the table while I fed Cerberus. He was a slow eater, and he took his food lying down.

As we ate, I explained to Archer about Jessica and how she had known my sisters, and about the man who threw the beer bottle and how that had ignited my fury.

Archer was slack-jawed when I finished. “You flew? Right through the screen?”

“That’s not all.” I sprinkled pepper on my potatoes. Archer dug into his omelet.

I took a few bites of potatoes. They were crisp on the outside and tender on the inside. I wiped my mouth with a cloth napkin before I told Archer about Clyde, Sam, and the loose juice.

Archer got up to grab a pad of paper and a pen from the desk on the far wall. He jotted down a few notes, asked a few questions, then piled a forkful of potatoes into his mouth. He sat there, chewing and stewing.

I cut into my omelet. The cheese oozed out, and I spooned it up with my toast and ate it. It was delicious.

“That son of a bitch,” Archer said. “He’s got women disappearing from his bar, and he’s the one supplying the psycho who’s taking them with the drugs?”

“It seems so. He isn’t the brightest man. Perhaps he didn’t make the connection.” I sipped my Gatorade.

“Or maybe he’s the guy.”

I thought about slamming Clyde’s head into his own desk and how he had begged me to stop. I didn’t think he had the stomach for murder.

I took a bite of my omelet.

“What? You’ve got that look you get when you think you should tell me something but you don’t really want to tell me.”

So I did. I told him about threatening Clyde and the nice lump I had given him.

Archer smiled and shook his head.

“You’re not mad?” I asked.

“Hell no. That asshole deserved it.” He buttered a piece of toast. “I probably would have done the same thing.” He winked at me.

At that moment, I truly felt like we were a team.

The phone rang.

Archer picked it up. “Hey, Clyde, you piece of shit, we were just talking about you.”

I had almost forgotten—I had demanded a meeting with Sam this morning.

I glanced at the television set, enjoying my breakfast, as Archer spoke with Clyde. There was a mousy-haired woman standing in front of what looked like an ancient ruin. She was talking about some archeological expedition and the “find of the century.” The woman motioned behind her, and the camera zoomed in on a cave surrounded by pillars and a stone doorway. The mouth of the opening was emitting steam in a steady stream.

I turned up the volume.

“Archeologists in Turkey have uncovered what they believe is the mythological Pluto’s Gate, or the Gate to Hell.” The woman glanced at a card in her hand. “The expedition unveiled ancient remains of a pool, a temple dedicated to the deities of the Underworld, and steps leading to the cave—which, it is important to note, still emits lethal gases.”

I dropped my fork. It skipped across my plate and onto the floor.

Oh. My. Gods.

They found it.

And—worse—they opened it.

Chapter 27

Archer hung up the phone, and I heard him go upstairs. The water ran for a few minutes; then he came back down. “Sam will be waiting for us downstairs in half an hour.”

I turned around to face him. Something about the way I looked made him ask, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Remember that gate I told you about? The doorway to the Underworld?” I raised the volume on the television and pointed.

The reporter was still talking as the graphic of a scroll appeared on the screen. It was populated with a curvy text. “The Greek geographer Strabo once wrote, ‘This space is full of a vapor so misty and dense that one can scarcely see the ground. Any animal that passes inside meets instant death. I threw in sparrows and they immediately breathed their last and fell.’”

The reporter paused as the graphic disappeared. “Indeed, the professor who led the expedition stated that several birds died from carbon dioxide poisoning as they flew too close to the warm opening of the underground cave. Because of these fatal gases, the team has decided to seal up the opening.”

The camera cut to an image of men wearing gas masks stacking stones into the doorway.

That was good news, at least. But was it too little too late?

I hoped not.

Archer swung his head to me. “That’s the gate? The one you said was locked up tight from both sides? The one you said Hades himself couldn’t open?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that can’t be good.” He sighed and slid his eyes to the screen. “I guess there is no such thing as an inescapable prison.”

“It appears that way.”

“So what does it mean?”

What did it mean? Was there a breach in the Underworld? A betrayer among the gods? Or was it possible—and this was what I feared most—that with Alecto taken and me here in this realm, our defenses were weakened? Could a mortal have broken through our barriers from this side to call forth the demons of Tartarus?

For what purpose? Did it have to do with the upcoming eclipse? And what, if anything, had this to do with the five-moon ritual and the women?

I explained it to Archer as best I could. “That gate, that opening, leads to Avernus. It’s a wide lake with underwater caves that connect to Tartarus.”

“Where the bad guys go.”

“Precisely. Men with souls so black, they could never be cleansed. Monsters with insatiable appetites for the flesh of gods and mortals, betrayers of the gods and our laws who could never be trusted again.” I began pacing the room. “The good news is that the waters of Avernus are so tainted, so toxic, that very few who have tried to escape have ever survived the journey.”

“What’s the bad news?”

I looked up toward the ceiling, recalling the Stymphalian I had seen the other day. “The bad news is that the ones who can escape are the epitome of your worst nightmare.”

Archer sat down, tapping his fingers on the table. “Okay, so we know the gate was opened and they are closing it as we speak. How can we know if any damage was done?”

“I will make contact with the gods through the statue in the Forum Shops. Athena said I could reach Apollo, Dionysus, and Aphrodite there.” I touched the moonstone ring, recalling how Hecate had instructed me to open the clasp to send a signal to the gods. “I will alert them to the situation, and they will take an inventory of the residents of Tartarus. If anyone or anything is missing, we should know about it within minutes.”

“What can I do?” Archer asked.

I flicked my eyes from the television screen to the laptop. “Is there any way you can find more video of the excavation in the Google information center? Perhaps I could study it. Perhaps I might see something.”

“Sure.”

I frowned, thinking of the meeting with Sam. If I could talk to him, I was certain he would reveal to me all he knew of the drug supplier. “Do you think you’ll have any trouble getting the truth from Sam about the loose juice?”