Mystic Ink (6 page)

“Yes. One of my sisters is about to visit.” Nix hopped off the wall.

The question was—which one?

The sister Nix wanted to see the least appeared. Portia.

“Holy Hera,” Nix muttered, all her anger bubbling to the surface. What did she want?

Cal cast a curious look over his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Nix wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. “We have some issues. Remember the whole Nate thing? Portia was the other woman.”

He nodded with understanding. “I’m sorry, Nix.”

It was common knowledge that Nate had dumped Nix, but no one outside of the family knew it had been for Portia. Nix had no idea how Nereus had managed to keep that a secret, but she was still grateful. It was humiliating enough without everyone knowing it was her own sister that had stabbed her in the back.

Portia finished her dramatic entrance—like Aphrodite rising nude from the sea—and morphed from her water form to a mortal one, complete with the smallest bikini Nix had ever seen. “Portia, you stand out like a sore thumb. This isn’t Rio. You can’t parade around on this beach dressed only in string.”

“Nix, you need to lighten up. It’s dark. No one will see me.” Portia fluffed her copious auburn hair and pouted her lips at Cal. “Who do we have here? Is this Calder Quinne?” Portia held out her hand, jutting out her large breasts at the same time. “A pleasure to see you again.”

Nix blocked her sister from approaching Cal, positioning her body in front of his. “Why are you here?”

A flicker of amusement passed over Portia’s beautiful face. Too bad Nix knew that behind the façade was a shallow, sex-obsessed Nymph. Only Portia wasn’t harmless or well-meaning like most of their kind. Portia only wanted what she couldn’t have. Nix had made Cal more interesting by making a point of stepping between them. Dumb move. When would she learn?

“Daddy sent me.” Portia sashayed around Nix, then turned around, flashing her thong and naked buttocks for Cal’s benefit.

“I’ll give you some privacy, Nix.” Cal brushed his fingers across the back of her neck and whispered, “I won’t be far.”

Nix suppressed the shudder she felt from his touch, not wanting to inflame her sister’s interest any further.

Portia watched Cal move a few feet away with animalistic interest. “You will have to tell me how you managed to get such a fine assignment.”

“I thought you were off duty.” In fact, Portia had finished at least a month before Nix had.

Portia ignored the question. “You know, Daddy says I’m his favorite.”

Nix resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Portia was the only one deluded enough to believe it, having never caught on that Nereus told them all the same thing.

“So what does the Old Man of the Sea want?” Gods, she wanted her sister to get to the point and leave.

“He has a final, last minute assignment for you.” Portia held her hands palms up. A light shimmered. A neatly folded cape appeared—the Destroyer’s Mantle. “He’ll tack on an extra year of leave if you do this one thing for him.”

“What’s the assignment?” Nix really didn’t want to do it, but Nereus rarely asked, so it must be important. He had the gift of prophecy. Maybe it was a vision or something.

Portia shrugged, her long tresses cascading across her shoulder with the motion. “He didn’t say. The mission is already preloaded into the Mantle. He did say it was only for a few hours.” Portia held the cloth out, beckoning her to take it.

Nix reconsidered. A whole year for a few hours of work. “Okay.” Nix took the cloak. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Cal approaching. He didn’t look happy.

“Great,” Portia chirped. “I’m going to go say hello to my other sisters. I’m sure
they’ll
be happy to see me.” Portia sauntered toward the direction of Tabby and Chloe, making sure to sway her hips as much as possible.

Cal didn’t care about the show Portia was throwing for his benefit. Her reputation preceded her. Most of the guys he knew steered clear of her because she was unstable and really very hard to get rid of later—at least that’s what he had heard. Apparently, Nate Adonis either didn’t know or was too stupid to care. Poor Nix. It was no surprise that a self-centered prick like Adonis would betray Nix, but with her own sister? That just sucked.

After he’d heard that story, he decided to stick nearby. Nix looked ready to explode and he didn’t want any of her actions to cast a bad light on her later. Portia seemed to be the type who would stir Nix into a frenzy and then go crying to Daddy if the fur started flying. Nereus would probably take Nix’s side, but he wasn’t sure about the council. Cal wasn’t going to take the risk.

As he watched the sisters verbally spar, Cal let his mind wander back to his offer to Nix. She wanted to say yes. He could see it in her eyes. Maybe there was hope . . .

The air pulsed with magic.

Portia had a Mantle—
she was offering Nix a mission
? Nereus had recently called Cal and he hadn’t mentioned another mission for Nix. He would have at least warned Cal. As her handler, he had a right to know if there was a change in plans or if she was going to be offered an off duty assignment.

Nix must refuse. His instincts were all fired up; his gut told him it was a bad idea. Portia handed Nix the Mantle before he could get close enough to say anything.

Without giving Portia a second glance, he marched over to Nix. “Don’t go.” A sense of urgency overwhelmed him, like he should knock the thing from her hands. But if he did that, Nix would misinterpret the gesture and probably don the cloak to spite him.

“What?” Nix held the Mantle tighter. “I already accepted the mission.”

“Just put the Mantle down. I’ll call Nereus. There must be a mistake.” Cal pulled out his phone but before he could dial, it rang. “Damn. Nix, please. Just wait.” Nereus’ cell number appeared on the display. When he answered, he received an earful of static. “Nereus?”

The static eased up. A small tinny voice was barely audible. “Is Nix with you?”

“Yes.” Cal watched her as she unfolded the Mantle. “Nix, wait!” The interference in the line increased. More distorted speech. “Please repeat. I can’t hear you.”

A garbled voice tried to break through. All Cal could make out was something that sounded like ‘Nix’. “God damn it. Nereus, call me back. I can’t—” The line went dead.

When Cal looked back up, it was too late. The Mantle had settled over Nix, molding over her features. The Destroyer manifested—a tall, sleek warrior coated in silver from head to toe. No unique facial features, no sign that Nix was underneath.

“Nix! No!” With a bright flash, she disappeared.

Chapter 6

Waking up after a mission always sucked. When Nix raised her head, it pounded as if the surf was trapped between her ears. Her mouth was dry and gritty, like she had eaten sand. For a moment, she had no idea where she was. Then it hit her. She was at the beach house, in her room. Why was she sitting at the desk? Normally, she would have woken up either on her bed or lying on the floor.

The sun was up and the house was quiet. Through the open windows, she could hear the surf slapping against the shore. If Basil had been there, he would have reported high tide.

Where was everybody? A quick glance of the clock told her it was later than she first thought. By this time, her sisters would be at their shops getting ready to open for the day. Chloe taught a knitting class first thing in the morning at her yarn shop in Olde Mistik Village. And Tabby would already be styling hair for her mostly mortal clientele.

Nix pulled her arms over her head and yawned. She stopped mid-stretch—there were silvery stains on the front of her T-shirt. A quick examination confirmed what she suspected. She had God blood on her and no memory of how or why it was there. She really hated being a tool for The Delian League.

With a grunt, she yanked off the soiled shirt and stood up, tossing the shirt in her closet where it landed in a wrinkled heap. She shut the closet door, took two steps and stopped. Pain pinched her feet. Her sneakers were filled with something gravelly. She kicked them off. Sand spilled onto the floor. The color was odd—a faint blue. Maybe she did eat sand last night. Her stomach let out an angry growl. She was famished. Figuring out where ever she’d been and whatever she’d been doing could wait until later.

After a hearty breakfast: a three egg omelet with toast and a glass of orange juice, she realized she hadn’t seen or heard from Cal. She took a quick tour of the house. The guest bed was neatly made, giving no indication if it had been used one way or the other. Cal seemed the type to make his bed every morning with military precision. Padding down the stairs, she stopped. There was note pinned on the front door.

Nix,

Tabby said you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed your car. I will bring it right back. I promise.

Cal

Tabby, that bitch! Nix never let anyone drive her car. Even Denys, her mechanic, only drove it when absolutely necessary. She would kick Tabby’s butt the next time she saw her. And she had her own shop to open in a few hours. With a growl, Nix crumpled the note and dropped it in the nearest trash bin. Looked like she was swimming back to Mystic.

All Nereids loved the sea. It was their birthplace, their cradle, their home for the early years of their life. Doris birthed them in their mortal form on land. Nereus unlocked their Godhood and returned them to the sea in their water form. Nix waded into the surf, checking carefully for mortals. Thankfully, the few on the beach were either reading or napping. She couldn’t risk someone seeing her go under and mistakenly think she was drowning.

Nix slid under the water, the weight of her clothes and shoes dragging her down. As a nice bonus, when she got out of the water, her power would dry and restore her clothes. She could manifest new ones and swim naked, but why bother? Besides, she needed pockets to carry her keys, ID, and the Destroyer’s Mantle. Fully submerged, she released her mortal form and became water.

For a few moments, she reveled in the feeling of oneness with the ocean. It had its own life force that beckoned to her to join with it—to return to the fold. Nix resisted and flowed toward the Connecticut coastline, headed toward Mystic. When she reached the mouth of the Mystic River, she sensed another Nereid close by.

Hail, Nix,
her sister said, communicating with Nix mind to mind.

Juni!
Nix hadn’t had a chance to see her since returning. Juni worked at Mystic Aquarium as a rehabilitator and was often away rescuing marine animals.

I wish I was calling under glad tidings, but I am here on behalf of a friend,
Juni replied, sadly.

Nix’s happiness deflated. It was Rocky. It had to be. Nix had rescued the harbor seal from a shark attack as a pup and brought him to the aquarium. His flippers had been damaged and he wouldn’t have been able to survive in the wild. That had been thirty years earlier, in between Nix’s tours of duty. Nix had visited him whenever she could, swimming and playing with him after hours. When Nix had been depressed after her breakup with Nate, communing with Rocky had helped ground her, reminding her of what was truly important: caring for the ones you loved. Yet, time had sped by and now he was old, having lived much longer than he would have in the wild.

I am so sorry. He is but a mortal creature.

I know, Juni.
Nix followed her sister silently as they traveled up the Mystic River. When they reached Elm Grove Cemetery, they poked their heads up. The cemetery was one of Nix’s favorite landing spots since it was generally quiet and mostly deserted early in the day. After verifying that no humans were about, they emerged from the water, fully clothed and, with a bit of Nereid magic, completely dry. They walked up Greenmanville Avenue until they reached Coogan Boulevard where the Aquarium was located.

Juni led her into the still closed facility and to the enclosure where Rocky lived. The place reeked of salt water, urine, and fish. Nix didn’t mind though. Her thoughts were all on the gray speckled animal resting in a shallow pool.

“Hey, buddy.” Nix got on all fours and leaned down so Rocky could smell her. His eyesight had diminished and his large dark eyes were cloudy. The seal let out a low bark and glided closer. After the short trip, he rested his head next to her hand. His long whiskers, like brush bristles, poked her skin. She tried to stem the tide of tears, but it was too hard. He was her friend, and she would miss him when he was gone.

Nix ran her hand down his smooth, sleek body. Rocky’s eyes closed. His breathing became more labored. “How long has he been like this?” Nix felt his life force ebbing.

“Not long. It started yesterday. I think he’s been holding out for you.” Juni tugged at her short, spiky hair. Her sea blue eyes, so like their father’s, were sad.

That punched Nix in the gut—the reminder that time is finite for mortal creatures. Since she’d been back, she had only visited Rocky once. A lot less than she should have. And now it was too late. This would be their last meeting.

Nix bent down and captured Rocky’s gaze. As a Nereid, she could enter the mind of sea creatures and, depending on the animal, she could share thoughts, even communicate. Rocky’s kind, gentle mind was still alert. He knew his time had come. Waves of gratitude poured from his brain to hers. He thanked her for saving him, for taking care of him, and for being his friend.

While in captivity, Rocky had been able to mate several times. Some of his children were even returned to the wild. He had a final request for Nix—deliver his soul back to the place he was born—the sea near the rocky coast of Greenland. There he would be free again, to swim in the waters of his ancestors, a ghostly presence keeping watch over his offspring.

“Of course. I would be honored,” she whispered into the top of his head. With a final sigh, Rocky breathed his last breath and released his soul. It floated out above his body and formed into a small, milk-white teardrop, then hovered, waiting. Nix tenderly plucked it from the air and cradled it in her palms. Juni came from behind and put her arms around Nix, hugging her tight, sharing her tears.

Nix sat on a bench beside the duck pond in Olde Mistick Village. Her mind turned the same thought over and over—life was slipping by her. Rocky’s death was a stark reminder that the wheel of time was always in motion.

Cal’s question bobbed to the surface.

Give me a chance
, he had suggested. Should she do it? Allow herself happiness—dare to dream of freedom? Freedom . . . Nix had given up on the idea long ago. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember exactly why. She wondered if having her mind wiped so many times had given her brain damage.

A group of excited children burst onto the scene, yelling to their mothers, pointing to the ducks. Nix couldn’t help but smile. Children were a wonderful blessing. She had always wanted babies of her own. Did Cal want children? Even Rocky had young somewhere in the world. She squeezed the hard teardrop still in her palm.

Ah, who was she kidding? All this daydreaming about the future was pointless. She would never be anything more than a Destroyer. An instrument of death, not life. Reluctantly, Nix stood up, taking a last look at the mortals enjoying the day.

I can help you reach your goals.

Nix froze. What the hell? The thought was not her own.

Open your mind to me, and we can help each other.

Thank the Gods that Cal wasn’t around to witness the panic she knew was plastered on her face. Or to see her sweat. To hear her heavy breathing. Was this how madness began? Hearing voices?

Nix stood up and swiveled around, methodically scanning the area. Children darted around her oblivious, intent on feeding the ducks. There was no one else nearby except chatting parents. One of the first things Nix had learned, almost before she could walk, was to protect her mind. Nereus had drilled into all his daughters the importance of mind shields. Destroyers, while wearing the Mantle, could not be mind-influenced, but Nymphs could.

She shored up her mind, double checked her mental barriers, and resolved to ignore the voice. She refused to believe she was going crazy. There must have been another God nearby. That was all. She still had another errand to run before Mystic Ink opened. Taking the path to the left, Nix headed toward The Exotic Emporium, a curio shop owned by Portia. On the way, she swung by Chloe’s yarn shop—Me and Ewe. The lights were on, but the store was closed. A note was tacked to the door stating the shop would reopen at noon. Both Chloe’s and Portia’s storefront locations were gifts from Nereus—anything to keep his daughters happy, content, and unquestioning.

Nix generally avoided Portia, but the Destroyer’s Mantle hadn’t returned automatically to Nereus like it should have. Maybe it was because it was an unscheduled mission. In any case, Nix didn’t want the thing lying around, so she planned to give it to Portia. Then it could be her sister’s problem. The cape was folded into a square the size of a handkerchief in her pocket. Thankfully, Portia’s shop was open. The front door was ajar. The reek of incense hit her nose, making her want to sneeze.

A perky mortal greeted Nix as soon as she crossed the threshold. “Is there something I can help you find today?” The female clerk was positioned behind a trinket laden glass counter at the store’s entrance.

Nix hadn’t been inside the shop in a very long time, so the mortal clerk had no idea who she was. Despite herself, Nix was drawn to the variety of objects for sale. Floor to ceiling, the place was packed with imported tchotchkes and exotic curios, many from the Far East. Or from whatever third world country sweatshop the items actually came from.

Nix still had time. She could take a look around. “No. Just looking.”

The store was longer than it was wide. The aisles were loaded with items ranging from small lucky cats, a personal favorite—Nix owned several of those—to large lacquered cabinets and rattan chairs. As she made her way around, Nix was stuck by a single thought—nothing about this place matched Portia’s personality. Her sister was sophisticated and elegant, much like their mother, Doris, who wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.

Oh, well. Maybe Nix didn’t know Portia as well as she thought. When Nix returned to the front of the store, the young woman expectantly asked, “Find anything you like?”

“Is Portia in today?” Nix’s attention fixed on a jar of blue sand displayed on the counter. It wasn’t an outlandish blue, like the kind of color created in a lab, but a pale, chalky blue more reminiscent of . . .

“No.” The girl frowned slightly, as if Nix had asked a strange question. “Portia hasn’t been here in months. She does send regular e-mails, though. So I can take a message.”

“No. I’ll try her cell phone.” Nix turned to leave, but stopped. Her eyes zoomed back to the sand. “Can you tell me where this sand is from?”

“Oh, that’s from some desert in Chile.” She pointed to a framed photo of a barren landscape placed near the jar. The tag underneath read: DRIEST PLACE ON EARTH. “Portia sent it back after a recent trip to South America. Have a good day.”

“Thanks. You, too.” Nix left the shop, distracted. When had Portia had time to go to South America? With a shake of her head, she told herself that it wasn’t her concern. Unfortunately, she would also have to hang onto the Mantle. At least until she could give it back to Nereus. When she got back to the shop, she would lock it in the safe in her apartment.

The air outside was refreshing, even with the cloying scent of incense stuck to her clothes. The Village’s antique clock chimed out the hour, reminding Nix that she needed return to Mystic Ink. A swim back was out of the question. Even if there were no one in the cemetery, there would be plenty of mortals out and about along the river at this hour.

So she’d have to walk. Since someone took her car. Where was Cal? While he wasn’t her bodyguard or even her keeper, he had been spending a good deal of time with her, supposedly observing her for signs of madness. It wasn’t like him to go so long without contacting her. Nix quickly checked her cell phone—it was on and receiving a signal.

Of course, he had no idea where she was. Cal was probably already at the shop shooting the shit with Jason. Yeah, that must be it. Content, she started the trip back.

It was close to noon by the time she arrived. The shop was dark—unusual—but not unheard of. Jason did cover for her last night so he was probably sleeping in. And Mary—she showed up whenever she felt like it. In all fairness to Mary, maybe they didn’t have a noon appointment. But still, Nix would have to broach the subject of tardiness. She did have a business to run, and it couldn’t turn a profit if it wasn’t open. They did do a brisk business in walk-ins.

Nix, thoughts still swirling in her mind, headed toward the side door. After she unlocked the deadbolt, her eyes automatically went to the dumpster. Nothing. Thank the Gods. Her sigh of relief was quickly sucked back in. A dark shape further down the alley caught her eye. Maybe it was a heap of clothes or a bag of garbage. Whatever it was, it was lying near the entrance of the Underworld Gate. The Gate was invisible to all eyes, except Guardians—like her, Hades, and Charon. Whoever or whatever was back there couldn’t have known how close they were to the Underworld.

“Hell. Now what?” Please, be trash that some rude asshole left in my alley.

Rather than kick it with her foot, she decided to be more prudent and find something long to use as a poker. While grabbing a shop broom inside, she registered how quiet the place was. Of course, Basil wasn’t there. He was still with Jason.

Back in the alley, Nix slowly approached, straining for a better look. The pile was inside the building’s shadow. The closer she got, the more the lump resembled a body. She cursed. “Oh, come on! Why does this keep happening?”

Broom at the ready, she gave it jab. The mass was solid and there was no crinkle of plastic. So much for the garbage bag theory. Man, she did not want to have to call the police. At the rate she was going, they would probably arrest her just on principle.

Stupid mound.

She lifted the broom, ready to strike. An arm sprouted from the pile and shot up, stopping the handle from falling.

Nix barked, “What the hell?”

The broom clattered to the ground.

A dark figure rose up. The set of the shoulders, the short black hair . . . it was awfully familiar. “Cal?”

“Nix,” he said, his voice strained and tired. His arm extended, propping his body against the brick wall.

“If this is your idea of a joke, it’s not funny.” When he didn’t respond, Nix came up behind him and placed her hand on his back. “Are you—”

The words choked off. There was something wrong. Really wrong. His energy, the essence of his life, was out of whack. Like he was missing . . .