Strange Fates (Nyx Fortuna) (6 page)

BOOK: Strange Fates (Nyx Fortuna)
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“We wait until sunrise,” I said. “Unless you’d like me to leave you and troll boy here to continue with your little arrangement?”

He shook his head. “God no.” He tried to suppress his sobs, but they bubbled out of him. Finally, he regained his composure enough to say, “He made me do it.”

“How many?” I asked.

“Three,” he said. “The first one was…messy.” His throat worked and he suddenly leaned over and heaved out last night’s soup.

Trolls ate every bit of their victims, bones and all. I imagined the crunch my bones would have made. They also had enormous appetites. It was likely that the number was more like three dozen, but I wasn’t going to argue with Jasper when he was in this condition.

We stayed there until the first rays of the sun touched the troll’s prone form and he turned to stone.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” I said. No wonder the kid was so skinny. Being in the thrall of a troll wore you out.

Jasper approached the stone troll and spit a huge loogie. “He killed my best friend the first night. He would have killed me, too, but he needed me.”

“To bring him his dinner,” I said.

Something changed in his face. “You’re him, aren’t you?” Jasper asked.

“Him, who?”

“The guy everybody’s looking for,” he said. “Fortuna’s son.”

It was a shot in the dark. There was no way he could know that.

“Who is Fortuna’s son?”

“Dunno,” he replied. “But the Fates want him. Word is he’s supposed to bring about their downfall. They pretty much rule Minneapolis.”

He had no idea. “I’m a minor magician from the House of Zeus,” I said. I motioned to his trident tattoo. “I don’t even warrant an insignia. Why did you think I might be this guy?”

“You knew how to kill the troll,” he said. “I didn’t.”

I shrugged. “I read a lot. It doesn’t take a lot of magic to outwit a troll. But I’m not looking to get noticed, if you know what I mean.”

“You freed me,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to have the Fates take notice of me. I won’t say anything.”

I relaxed a fraction. The ring of gratitude in his voice convinced me. “What have you heard about Fortuna’s son?”

“There’s a bounty on his head,” he said.

Old news. “Anything else?”

“The Fates have a new manufacturing venture,” he said. “Right here in Minneapolis.”

“Why Minneapolis?” I asked.

“Something about the water being perfect for it,” he said.

“Perfect for what?”

“Something in research,” he said importantly.

“What kind of research?”

“Something about a new flavor of orange soda. They’re calling it ambrosia.”

Sounded oddly benign for my aunts, but hey, witches needed to make a living, too. Except that ambrosia was also known as nectar of the gods, something that any mortal would kill for. In theory, ambrosia could extend a mortal’s life, maybe even make him live forever. But it had been banned by all the Houses years ago because it caused madness in mortals, followed by an agonizing death. Even the aunties wouldn’t want to piss off the entire magical community in order to make money. Would they?

Money was power, and power was the one thing my aunts loved more than trying to kill me. “Where did you hear this?” I asked.

“Some guy who worked in their labs,” he said. “Alex told me the water was perfect for it.”

“Alex? Was he one of your marks?”

“No, Alex was my friend,” Jasper insisted.

“Where did you meet him?” I asked.

“Around.”

I frowned at his answer. “Be more specific. I just saved your life.”

“He used to volunteer at this soup kitchen on Nicolett. I’d cruise by every few weeks to pick up a bag of groceries and we became friends,” he said. “He was working on something special.”

“Special how?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t really understand it, but it had something to do with the water.”

I processed the information. My aunts were gathering wealth. Either that, or they just enjoyed the power over humans. “Anybody else know about this?”

“Nobody,” he replied.

“Make sure it stays that way,” I warned. “The Fates make that troll look like a teddy bear.” He gave me a sharp look and I added, “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Anything for you,” he said. His look of hero worship made me squirm. I’d only disappoint him, eventually. Or get him killed. Or both.

“What now?” I asked him.

“I want to go home,” he whispered. “I want to forget it ever happened.”

I gestured to the car. “What’s stopping you?”

His face blanched. “It’s not mine. I don’t want it. I never want to see it again.” He broke into noisy sobs and I realized that he was even younger than he had first appeared.

“C’mon, I’ll buy you breakfast,” I said. “And we’ll figure out what to do next.”

He drove us to a restaurant called Hell’s Belles, which was a few blocks from the Greyhound station.

The place was crowded with mortals and mages alike. All the tables facing the door were already occupied, so we had to settle for the counter.

“Funny,” I said. The fry cook was a demon, and so was the waitress serving coffee at the counter.

“What is?” Jasper asked.

“The name,” I said. “Hell’s Belles, get it?” It was the perfect name for a demon-owned establishment.

He shrugged. “Not really,” he said. He turned his attention to the menu.

The prices were reasonable, though. Jasper ordered like he hadn’t had a decent meal in years. “And a hot chocolate, with lots of whipped cream,” he added.

“Just coffee for me,” I said.

The food came and the smell of hot biscuits and bacon made me regret not ordering anything. Jasper handed me one of his biscuits and shoved the little bowl of gravy at me. “You’ve got to try these.”

The biscuits had been beaten into submission until they were melt-in-your-mouth fluffy. Everything was hot and fresh.

The diner gradually emptied out until we were the only customers left.

The older demon came over to refill my coffee. She had the eyes of an old basset hound, but the nose of a young one. She sniffed the air delicately. I hoped my disguise would hold. The coffee spilled over into the saucer as she scanned the diner, but she finally retreated to the kitchen.

“How long have you been in Minneapolis?” I asked Jasper. It was a long shot, but maybe he had some useful information, besides the fairly old news that my aunts were looking for me.

“About a year,” he said. He shuddered, remembering. “Tank and I ran away, but all our money was gone within two weeks. We thought we were so smart, breaking into the old fort.”

He stared into his hot chocolate for a long time, but finally roused himself. “You know the rest. What about you?”

“Just got into town,” I said.

He leaned in closer and asked in a whisper, “How did you know? About the troll?”

“I felt him,” I explained. “Trolls are predators. I know that hunted feeling like the back of my hand.”

I glanced around cautiously, but we were the only customers. I was probably telling him more than I should have, but didn’t they say confession was good for the soul? Besides, Jasper would be on the next bus out of town. I’d make sure of it.

He wrapped a couple of the biscuits in a paper napkin and put it in his pocket.

I wasn’t hungry anymore, but I did the same.

“You’re on the run?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Not anymore. No more running. I’m going to kill the people who murdered my mother and then kill myself.” He didn’t need to know the specific details, which were a little more complex. “I’m probably doing the world a favor.”

He’d obviously heard it all before because my cold-blooded statement didn’t even faze him. He bit into his toast. “Sounds simple enough,” he said, between bites.

“It won’t be.” Major understatement. “Now finish your breakfast.”

I paid the check and put a healthy tip under my plate. It’s not smart to piss off a demon, especially if she’s stuck waiting tables.

In the end, we drove to the bus terminal on Hawthorne, where I bought him a ticket to some Podunk city in Iowa.

“Don’t come back,” I warned. “And if you say anything…” I left the threat unfinished.

“I won’t,” he promised feverishly. He tossed me the car keys. “The Mustang’s yours if you want it. If not, leave it for the tow trucks to find.”

He sounded sad and I wondered what waited for him at home if he was reluctant to leave Minneapolis. “It’s for your own good.”

He stopped at the bus stairs. “Nyx, a lot of shitty stuff has been done in the name of good.”

This from a guy who’d lured several people to their deaths. But he had a point.

He boarded the bus and took a window seat. I stayed where I was until the Greyhound disappeared from sight.

Chapter Six

I left Jasper’s car at the bus station and picked up my Caddy. Something pulled me back to the lake I’d seen from Elizabeth’s house. I got lost twice, but I finally found her neighborhood. I parked the car a few blocks away and walked toward the water.

The storm had died, but the drifts were up to my shoulders in spots. The snow crunched beneath my feet as I walked. The tree branches were heavy with snow. I brushed against a pine and got a bunch of snow down the back of my neck for my carelessness.

Each step became harder and harder as I waded through drift after drift. I was so cold it was as if my bones had frozen.

What was compelling me to the lake?

It was more than sheer curiosity. It was if someone had called to me and I had to answer the call.

Finally, I reached the water. The surface was smooth and serene to the naked eye, but there was something in the black depths. Something waited. The ice in the lake cracked and boomed and I jumped.

I heard a whisper. “Little minnow,” it said.

The sound came from the water’s edge. “Show yourself.”

The face of a naiad appeared. She was a blue so pale she was almost translucent, and her dark hair tangled about her shoulder like weeds. She had full, slightly fishy-looking lips, but I had to resist the urge to step closer to her.

Rivulets of ice water dripped off her face, but she caught them with her long silvery tongue.

“Come closer,” she beckoned. “I’m cold. Keep me warm.”

I wanted to do a lot more than keep her warm, but naiads were dangerously sexy. I had enough magical blood to resist her blandishments, but mortals could not.

“Greetings, Poseidon’s daughter,” I said, finally remembering the traditional greeting to water-dwellers. “None of your tricks, nymph,” I added. I wagged my finger at her but was careful to keep out of her reach.

“Willow,” she said. “You may call me Willow.”

“Nyx,” I said. I hadn’t conversed with a naiad for a long time, but that summer on the island of Capri, we’d lived with a colony of friendly naiads. They had tolerated a miniature male in their midst for my mother’s sake.

“Your heart belongs to another,” she said. She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. When she did, the necklace of worn stones she wore rattled. At least I thought they were stones. Some naiads liked to wear necklaces made of men’s teeth to show how many they’d seduced and killed.

The rivulets of water turned to icicles, and she shivered.

True love was often the only thing that kept a man from death by naiad. Or so I’d been told. “No, my heart is my own,” I said. “But I’m wise to your wily ways.”

She turned to go, perhaps off to seek easier prey, but I stopped her. “Wait!” I said. “Willow, what’s down there?”

“I’ll never tell,” she said. She giggled and put her hand on mine before she dove into the icy water without a backward glance.

I heard someone walking through the snow, swearing, and then Elizabeth was standing behind me.

“Who were you talking to?” Elizabeth asked.

Had she sensed the nymph’s presence? Most mortals were clueless about magical beings, even when they were right in front of them. “I was talking to myself,” I said. “Bad habit, I’m afraid. How did you find me?”

“I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Why?” I asked. I sounded suspicious.

“I need your help,” she said. “Rather desperately. I need you to find my brother Alex.”

“I’m not a cop,” I said. “Or a private detective.”

“I’ve already tried the police department and a detective. They didn’t find anything.” She stood there shivering and turning blue. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying.

I knew then I would help her, even though it was against my better judgment. That name, though—I’d heard it recently.

“You’re freezing,” I said. “Let’s find some place warm to talk.”

“What were you doing out here?” Elizabeth scolded. “The lake’s not safe.”

“I wasn’t planning on a dip,” I said. “It seems safe enough.” No matter what the naiad had tried to tempt me into, I wasn’t stupid enough to swim in frigid water.

“Well, it’s not,” she snapped. “People die in weather like this. Get hurt, disoriented, lie down to sleep and freeze to death.”

I was already lost, disoriented. “I’m touched by your concern,” I said sarcastically.

Did Elizabeth have any idea of what kind of magic was guarding the lake? There was more than a water nymph living there.

“Let’s get back to my house,” she said. She tugged on my hand to guide me away from the lake.

My anger left as quickly as it had come. Even with swollen eyes, she looked cute in her red knit cap and mittens.

She let out a hiccuping sob and I pulled her close, just to comfort her, but the embrace changed into something else. I had to kiss her. It was becoming a habit, this need to touch her.

“You taste like honey,” I whispered.

“My lip balm,” she replied.

She was wildflowers and thistles, guaranteed to sting eventually. I kissed her again and we bumped teeth.

She removed her lips from mine, too quickly. “Are you going to stick around?”

“I’ve thought about it,” I said.

She must have heard a warning in my voice not to press the issue, because she dropped the subject. “Let’s go back to the house. You must be hungry.”

“I’ve already eaten,” I said. I grabbed her hand and she let me keep it. We walked back to the house hand in hand.

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