Sin City Goddess (25 page)

Tomorrow. I had until 5:55 tomorrow to find Alecto. After that, I had no idea what was going to happen, but my instincts told me it would spell disaster for all of us.

“Maybe,” Archer said, although he seemed doubtful of that explanation.

Cerberus finished his meal and went off into some bushes. Archer picked up the empty food containers and tossed them in a nearby garbage can. I watched as he handed a dirty man with torn clothes some currency.

Something twittered in my chest, and another electric jolt ran through my body.

I was losing my heart to this man—I could feel it. I sighed and tilted my head back to look at the inky sky. I cracked my neck and stretched my legs, yearning to take flight, but my wings were retracted and resting from the battle.

So many battles. My energy was draining, I could tell, and I feared that if my power faded any more, I would be of no use to anyone. There were ways for me to refuel, however, and I just might have to indulge in them if I was going to save my sister.

Archer said, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You’re grinning.”

“Oh. Just thinking. How do you feel about Texas Hold’em?”

“I like it.”

“Wanna play?”

“Now? You want to play poker now?”

“When I use my brain, it energizes my body.”

Archer bent to put his hands on my thighs. He had a mischievous look on his face. “And what about when you use your body?”

I leaned my head toward his. “That works too.”

He wrinkled his nose and smiled.

“What?”

“You stink.”

I pulled my hair forward and sniffed. He was right. “Lamia. She smells worse than the giants. I guess I’ll shower first.”

We took the side street off the Strip to enter Caesars Palace. We received a few odd stares as we descended the escalator. I must have looked a wreck.

Cerberus trotted back to the room while we inquired about a Texas Hold’em table. One was beginning in two hours.

I said, “Archer, before we go up, I’d like to visit the Graces statue. I have yet to hear from Thalia, so I thought I’d try to connect with her.”

“Sure. Why don’t you try calling her on the phone first?”

I did. No answer.

When we got to the lobby, instantly I realized exactly why neither Thalia nor Molpe had made contact.

There were policemen in the lobby, questioning a few people. Staff were milling about, trying to calm customers, and the maid service was sweeping the floor all around the statue.

All of the eyes of each Grace were knocked out. There was a hammer lying on the ground where the vandal must have dropped it.

The portal had been destroyed.

Thalia couldn’t return.

And neither could we.

Just beyond the café to the right stood Rumour. She was staring right at me.

Chapter 44

I lurched forward. “I’ll kill her!”

Archer grabbed my elbows and forced me to look at him. “Whoa, Tisi, Tisi, calm down. There’s cops crawling the place. Let’s not get you arrested. Who are you talking about?”

“Rumour,” I spat, my eyes locked on her. “She did this. She did this out of sheer spite because she has no gifts.” I raised my voice. “I see you. Come over here!”

“Tisi, shhh,” Archer said. A few uniformed heads swung our way.

I looked at him. “You don’t know her like I do.”

Archer said, “I’m sure it wasn’t her. I’m sure it’s just a punk kid.”

“You have that badge. Can’t you find out who did this?” I asked.

Archer frowned. “I can, but what if they know I’m dead? I know one of the guys.”

He turned his back to the officers.

“What’s the worst that could happen? You tell them you’re a ghost.”

Archer rolled his eyes, pulling me farther away from the statue. “Oh, that should go over well.”

I glared at him and lit the flame in my eyes.

Archer grumbled and said, “Fine. But stay right here. And don’t give me that look.”

I extinguished the fire and thanked him. After he left, Rumour sauntered over to me, her curved hips sashaying as she walked. “Tisiphone, my hero.”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.” I glanced at the statue.

She pursed her lips and put her hands to her hips. “What? You think I did this? Are you crazy?”

I was getting there. I hated this case—hated this damned city—but I said nothing to my cousin.

She blew out a sigh and flicked her gaze to Archer for a moment. “All right, look. Your words got to me, okay? Everything you said made me a tad nervous, so I thought I’d go home. At least until things settled down.”

“Coward.”

“Oh, very cute. Easy for you to say. You’ve got Cujo, Dirty Harry, and Puff the Magic Dragon to defend you. Plus your powers. What have I got?”

She stared at me for a minute.

Finally I had to ask. “Who is Dirty Harry?”

Rumour rolled her eyes. “Lords, Tisi, you really need to get out more.”

“Well, did you at least see who did this?”

“No. I arrived after it happened.”

We stood there in silence for a moment. Then she asked, “Can I stay with you?”

I laughed. “Now who’s crazy?”

“What if he comes after me?” She sounded genuinely worried. Not that I cared.

“I don’t think he will. He seems to be collecting women who are dark haired, tall, thin.”

Rumour knitted her brow. “You mean those who look like you?”

“Yes.”

“So
you
inspired him.”

“What?” She really was trying my patience. I thought about shoving her head into the reflecting pool but decided that might drain even more of my power.

“Think about it. What you told us before. Pluto’s moons, which are really Hades’s moons, the dark daughters. He is probably trying to summon a Fury, if not all three.”

I considered this, then shook it out of my mind. “No. The moons, the ritual—I suspect that is all part of Lamia’s plan to overthrow Hades. The women—that is a mortal’s plan.”

“And who is to stop a mortal from taking Hades’s throne? What better way to do that than for the Furies to rise up and revolt?”

Had Jason Helm known when he abducted Alecto that she was a Fury? But then what of the portal? How would he have known about that? Lamia, perhaps?

“I suppose it’s possible. We know a mortal took the women, but we’ve suspected he was working with a god. Perhaps it wasn’t a god; perhaps it was only Lamia.”

Rumour tapped her lip and thought for a moment. “Or Charon.”

I snapped my gaze to her. Of course! Charon. That greedy, club-footed weasel would sell his own mother for coin.

“Did I help?” Rumour’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Actually, Cousin, you did.”

“Then may I stay with you?”

“No. But I would recommend you secure accommodations within the hotel.”

Rumour breathed a little easier.

Archer stepped up then. “Hello,” he said to Rumour.

He raised an eyebrow at me.

“It’s okay. What did you learn?”

“It was a homeless man. Said someone paid him to do it. They’re still questioning him.”

“Did he say who?”

“He didn’t know. But I flashed the picture of Jason Helm.”

“And?”

Archer nodded, and a smile spread across his face. “We’re getting closer, Sassy.”

I matched his grin. “Yes, we are.”

Rumour shifted her eyes from Archer to me. “For Hades’s sakes, Tisi, a mortal?”

I shot her a glare.

“Whatever rows your boat,” she said. She stuck out her hand. “Rumour.”

Archer shook it. “My pleasure.”

“So what now?” Rumour asked me.

I looked at Archer.

He said, “They’ve got some boys out looking for Helm. Told me I could question him when they found him. I tipped them off about the possible new address.”

“Well, then I guess now it’s shower time.” I started off toward the elevator, but Rumour grabbed my arm.

“Tisi, wait. Maybe I can help.”

“How?” I didn’t trust her one bit. Just because she had a mildly plausible theory didn’t mean she was any less sneaky.

Her tone was serious. “If this ritual is strong—if the eclipse will somehow change you, control your actions, your will—then you need to learn how to do something that only I can teach you.”

I smirked.
This should be amusing.
“And what is that, Cousin?”

“Lie.”

Rumour was convinced that the best offense was a good defense. She thought that if whatever ritual the abductor was planning was strong enough to crack the gate and pull Lamia through, then it might be strong enough to bespell me, weaken me, or somehow suck me into its vortex.

What was it Lamia had said? She wanted me to be by her side when she took over Hades’s throne? What had led her to believe that was even possible?

Perhaps Rumour was right. As good a poker player as I was, I wasn’t the best bluffer in the Underworld. Intimidator, yes, bluffer, no. I decided that she had a point. That maybe I would have to put aside my righteousness and “play along,” as she put it.

“If they think you’re on their side, you’ll have a better chance of defeating them,” she had said.

I wasn’t in the habit of pretending to be someone I was not. I was proud of my role as a Fury. Proud of all the sinners I had forced to repent. But maybe, just maybe, this was stronger than my will.

We had agreed to meet back in the casino in an hour. Right now, Archer and I were in the suite. Cerberus was sprawled across the sectional sofa, allowing no room for anyone else. Indigo was sleeping on a chair, still wrapped around the sword, and Archer was fiddling with the laptop.

I went upstairs to take a shower.

My hair was freshly rinsed of the muck of Lamia when I heard the door creak open. My wings ruffled.

Archer said, “Brought you some towels and a couple of aspirin for your head.”

He set a stack of fluffy white towels down on the marble counter, and two white tablets on top of them. I could see through the glass that he was about to step from the room. He stole a quick peek in the mirror at my silhouette through the glass, then turned away.

There was one other way to replenish my power, and I couldn’t think of a better man to assist me with the task.

“Archer,” I called. “Would you please wash my wings?”

He stopped and turned toward the shower door slowly.

“Um, sure, if you want me to.”

I poked my head out. “Oh, I want you to, Lawman.”

It didn’t take long for him to shrug out of his clothes. He grabbed a washcloth and joined me under the steamy water.

I danced my eyes up and down his body for a moment, enjoying the cut of him—the sculpted bone of his hips, his muscular legs, and, more importantly, what was between them. It was more than ample.

“I know. I’m not a god,” he said sheepishly.

“No, you’re not. You’re better.”

He flashed a cocky grin. “Good to know.”

I turned, and he gently soaped up my feathers, stroking them with his hands, caressing them with the washcloth. He asked if the pressure was okay, if he was hurting anything, and I assured him his touch was perfect. When he was done soaping up both of my wings right down to the last feather, he explored farther down my body, washing my back, my buttocks and thighs, all the way to my ankles. Achingly slow, he crawled his way back up to my neck, kissing it in a gentle figure-eight pattern. I could feel him hardening, could feel his hands becoming more adventurous, more daring, as he wove them up and down my thighs, my hips, and around to my stomach.

In a hoarse voice, he said, “All clean on this side. Time to do the front.”

The essence of me was throbbing, pulsating with heat. I was slick, through and through. I turned, pleased to see that Archer’s eyes had transformed into dark depths of desire. His hair was wet from the water, his skin deliciously moist, with beads of soap bubbles painted across his chest.

My nipples hardened instantly when he brushed the warm washcloth across my breasts. I leaned my head back, enjoying the sensation of his hands on my body, and stretched my arms overhead in an open invitation.

“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got this,” he said, his voice rich, sensual.

I smiled. The water rained down on top of us as I gripped the edge of the shower door with both hands, resisting the urge to take charge, to lead the way, to be in control. Instead, I allowed the gratifying touch of his hands, his mouth, his tongue, to shimmy up and down my body, delving into its caverns.

He lingered between my thighs longer than I had anticipated, his hands on my hips, his mouth doing things I didn’t even think were possible. He pulled me closer to him, squeezing my backside while his tongue plunged inside me and back out again, until he finally succumbed to my squirming and satisfied the most delicate fold of my body.

I cried out, gripping the shower door harder, riding wave after wave of pleasure until my force cracked the glass.

Archer kissed his way back up to my neck, glazing his hands along my sides, until he reached my face.

“I’m not done with you,” I said.

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

I pushed him against the back wall of the shower and wrapped one leg around him, sliding him inside me. He moaned, softly at first, then louder the harder I thrust. We moved in sync, in tandem, and just when the rhythm was perfectly poised for me to explode again, he lifted me up, twirled me around, and pushed me against the wall.