He shook his head. “I simply objected to the word pet, as anyone might.”

  She didn’t want to push him, so she hid her smile behind a cough. “Unless you think they might have a ghost trap.”

  “Depends on if they expected to be followed, doesn’t it?” Damian asked.

  “Did you see any signs of magic?” Helen asked Maera.

  “No,” she said, “but we’re not always as sensitive to it as spirits or the fey.” She nodded toward Robin.

  They hefted their ax and grinned, rivulets of blood arcing around their lips. “I wouldn’t mind having a peek. I’m good at getting through traps.”

  “I can walk them in with a glamour,” Maurice said, “but that would take all my concentration.”

  Probably why he hadn’t been able to spot any of the magic traps last time. “I should come with you,” Chloe said.

  “Why?” Helen and Ramses asked at the same time, and she both loved that they were worried about her and annoyed that they seemed worried about her the most.

  “Because it seems like the only thing these people never plan for is humans.” Since she’d discovered she had a godhood, she wasn’t certain she actually qualified anymore, but nothing they’d seen would hold her like a ghost trap did Ramses or an iron cage would snare a fairy or demon.

  “The plan to whip me to death via demon would have worked on you as well,” Helen said, giving her a look.

  “Let’s go if we’re gonna,” Polyanthus said, his voice a low rumble. “Tired of talking. Hit stuff now.”

  Everyone tagging along seemed to make the most sense, and it would save them from any fights about who got to put themselves in danger and when. Of course, if their enemies sprung a trap, it might catch everyone, too. God, they seemed like the most unprepared assault team ever. It was the wyvern’s barn all over again.

  Chloe really should have brought her mom and the others, especially now that the team was looking at her and Helen as if they were co-authoring this particular Choose Your Own Adventure. “Right,” she said. “Well, we don’t know what we’re facing or if any of us will even recognize the people responsible, but we’ve got god power, magic, glamour, troll fists, a sack of guns, and one very large ax. I don’t see how we can lose.”

  That got wide grins from Polyanthus and Robin and even managed to coax a few smiles from the others, but Chloe still had a lead weight sitting in her gut.

  They stuck close to shore as they worked their way around to the smuggler’s cove, picking over the beach and through the dense jungle. The good news was that there weren’t many people around, so Maurice didn’t have to keep up a constant glamour. The bad news was that it felt like exploring the small islands all over again with the dense foliage, plenty of mosquitos, and enough walking on sand that Chloe’s calves started to groan in protest. When the trees thinned, and she could see the sides of the warehouses, she was ready to head into any traps just so she wouldn’t have to walk on the freaking beach anymore, burning quickly through their daylight.

  She crouched with the others among the trees. With Polyanthus’s help, Fatma climbed a palm tree that leaned into another, forming a perch she could lie along. She looked through her scope and spoke to Maurice so he could flutter down and pass it on.

  Around six or seven people wandered in and out of the shadows of the large buildings. One or two more moved on the sailboat. No one seemed in a hurry or alarmed. She spotted two pistols on hips but no larger weapons like the one that could have burned the boathouse at the sanctuary. And she didn’t report any large metal structures carved with runes like Charybdis’s vault.

  Fucking Charybdis. Chloe still couldn’t believe it. When she’d asked what the infamous creature from The Odyssey looked like, Helen had paused and frowned in concentration. “Very hard to describe,” she had said at last. “She can take many different forms.”

  Great, that would make finding her a piece of cake. “Maybe they’ve already let her out,” Chloe said now. “They wouldn’t need the vault, then.”

  Helen shook her head. “She’s not loose.”

  “How do you know?”

  “We’d know. This little cove would be decimated, maybe the entire island.”

  “She’s that dangerous?” Damian asked.

  Helen gave him another of those infuriating in-the-know looks.

  Damian lifted an eyebrow. “I know we’re trying this whole, save all the creatures, happy, sunny sort of thing, but maybe it would have been better to take her out of this world along with this Lamia who’s becoming so infamous.”

  Helen glared. “A demon who advocates for murder, why am I not surprised?”

  “Excuse me? Prejudiced much?” he asked.

  Chloe stepped between them while Fatma hissed at them to be quiet from her perch. “Let it go for now,” Chloe said softly. “What’s done is done, and we’ll have to deal with it.”

  Helen shifted that annoyed look to her, and she hated that it made her want to squirm. “Promise me that if we can recover her alive, we will. Same with the Lamia. I won’t see them dead if it’s avoidable.”

  “I know,” Chloe said. “I know how important it is to you, and I promise to try.”

  Damian scoffed, and Chloe resisted the urge to kick him. “Hey,” she said, “if I was the shoot-first type, you’d be banished as hell, son.”

  That made him shrink back a bit, and the smile she got from Helen made her day.

  “Can we focus on the task at hand, children?” Ramses asked. “I think I should go ahead with Maurice. We’re both invisible, and if he senses any traps, we’ll pull back.”

  Chloe told Maurice, and Helen agreed to the plan, but before they could move, Fatma hissed again from above. “That woman,” she said in a kind of whisper-yell.

  Everyone on the ground shushed her, managing to be louder than she’d been in the first place. “What woman?” Helen asked.

  “The one who was with you at the wyvern’s barn,” Fatma said. She kept looking away from the scope and then back again as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. “The redhead. Is she one of your paranormal killers?”

  She’d be answering for “killers” later, but Chloe’s mind raced now, and she tried to remember the name of the pain in the ass who’d forced herself into the hunt for what Chloe and Ramses had been calling the Southern Mothman.

  “Tabitha?” she and Ramses said together.

  “Oh go…sh.” Chloe said, her stomach twisting. “She couldn’t keep her big nose out of it, and now she’s gotten involved with murderers and smugglers. I knew we should have stuck around to talk to her at the hospital, Ramses, I knew it.”

  “Who is she?” Helen said. “I think I remember her, but—”

  “A reporter,” Chloe said. “Does she look like a prisoner? I hope to hell they haven’t roughed her up.” If they had, that was on Chloe. She wasn’t sure how, but it was.

  “I’m going in,” Ramses said.

  “Wait,” Fatma called again. “She doesn’t look hurt. In fact, it looks like she’s giving orders.”

  What the hell? “Really?”

  “She’s pointing and shouting, and several people are hopping to obey.”

  Tabitha? Who ate jalapeño-flavored chips with sour candy chasers? Not that the people in charge of mercenary groups couldn’t have quirky diets, but the two images wouldn’t mesh in Chloe’s head.

  “Maybe she joined them after the wyvern,” Ramses said. “For revenge?”

  “And she’s already bossing them around?”

  “The only alternative is that she was part of their group the entire time.”

  Chloe shook her head. “What the actual fuck?”

  “We need a closer look,” Helen said. “Let’s continue with the plan for Ramses and Maurice—”

  “No,” Chloe said, shaking her head, her confusion transmuting to anger. “She played us, lied to us. She could have known who I was the entire time, could have known about Ramses, could have suspected we’d follow her to that smaller island and set that trap. She could be planning the same thing now.” She looked at Ramses and saw his stubborn face, but she had a helluva stubborn face of her own. “I’m going with you.”

  “Then we’re all going,” Helen said.

  Chloe didn’t argue. As long as she got to risk her life and liberty along with everyone else, she could be happy in the moment.

  Until it was time to wring some information out of Tabitha.

  Or kick her ass.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Back straight, chin out, Chloe looked more like a sword of vengeance than Helen could ever hope to be. She seemed sick to death of these people being one step ahead. Or maybe she couldn’t tolerate the thought of betrayal.

  Helen could relate. Many a time, she’d thought of kicking Psamathe’s ass. She felt a moment of pity for this Tabitha woman.

  But only a moment.

  Helen managed to slow Chloe with a hand on her arm. “I’m on your side,” she said when Chloe leveled a hard stare in her direction. “But it’s never a good idea to barge in on armed guards.”

  Chloe’s mouth twisted reluctantly, but she slowed, and the seven of them approached from the side of the building where a lone door waited in the shadow of a tree. Fatma had stayed in her perch to cover them.

  When they reached the door, Maurice whispered, “I’m not sensing any magic on the door.”

  Chloe pointed to a metal box set in the wall above. “Alarm.”

  Great, that ruled this door out. Helen was just about to lead the way around the front when Chloe grinned. “Let Ramses handle it.”

  A soft bzzt came from the door, and it clicked open, as if a magnetic lock had gone on the fritz along with the alarm. Helen’s side tingled as she remembered the two shocks Ramses had given her. A ghost’s electrical field was useful on more than one level.

  “It’s clear just inside,” Chloe whispered. She held the door, waving everyone through. They walked into shadow, this side of the warehouse dimly lit in the face of the sun streaming in the other side.

  Voices came from nearby, above the sound of the water slapping against the pier. Several boats hung from small cranes, and stacks of boxes and crates stood in piles about the floor, perfect for cover.

  “I sense magic closer to the water,” Maurice said softly.

  Helen froze along with everyone else. She hardly breathed as she waited. When no explanation came, she said, “Well?” as softly as she could.

  “Well what?”

  She gritted her teeth. “What kind?”

  “How the hell should I know? I’m not a bloody encyclopedia.”

  “Does it feel like a ghost trap?” Chloe asked with a hell of a lot more patience than Helen felt.

  “Identifying magic by feel is a tricky business,” he said peevishly. “I don’t sense fairy glamour. I think.”

  Great. It looked like they wouldn’t know until—

  “I see the sigils,” Robin said with a grin. “I’ll set them off. Red caps and magic don’t always get along.”

  “Wait, we’re trying to sneak—”

  But they were away before Helen could grab them. They struck out across the middle of the floor like they belonged there.

  “Robin,” Helen called as loudly as she dared. “Damn it.” She drew the kladenet.

  “Wait,” Polyanthus said, their craggy face breaking into a smile that sent a scatter of shale falling to the floor.

  A whistle like a teakettle on speed echoed through the room, the clear frontrunner in the competition for Most Annoying Sound Ever. Helen clapped her hands over her ears as two sigils carved into posts between her and the pier burst into flames, interrupted somehow by Robin’s presence.

  Didn’t get along with magic indeed. But now everyone would know someone had broken in. At least the magic gave them confirmation that these had to be the killers who’d attacked the sanctuary.

  Yes, that would be a great comfort when Robin was riddled with bullets.

  Several mercenaries advanced with pistols drawn. A few more moved in from outside. No sign of the redhead who’d been with Chloe at the wyvern’s barn.

  “Drop the weapon,” one of the mercenaries said.

  Surprisingly, Robin let their ax fall to the floor. Helen started to move toward the back of the closest mercenary, but Polyanthus grunted again and shook his head.

  “But—”

  He nodded toward where Robin was now surrounded. One mercenary reached with his free hand and knocked back the hood of the cloak. He paused, looking at another mercenary, their expressions contorting as they got a look at the blood.

  “The fuck are you?” one of them asked.

  Robin burst into laughter. They lifted the ax on the end of their boot, the movement almost too fast for Helen to follow.

  And one of the mercenaries was minus a head.

  The others hesitated.

  Thwack. Head number two.

  The gunfire began before the heads stopped rolling. Robin hoisted one body aloft as a meat shield and took the legs out from under another.

  Literally.

  “Subdue,” Helen said as she released the kladenet. They needed one mercenary for information, and she only hoped the kladenet could hit one before Robin killed them all.

  Someone darted out from behind a stack of crates to the left, but Polyanthus punched a dent in their chest, and they collapsed. The fight had found the rest of them.

  “To arms,” Helen called, and the kladenet turned back toward her.

  “There,” Chloe said. She pointed at someone hurrying toward what looked like an office built into the side of the larger space. She didn’t look to have a weapon, but Helen still reached out so Chloe couldn’t go charging in.

  And missed her by inches. She was outlined in a silver glow much like Helen’s golden one. A spell? A trap going off?

  A…godhood?

  Helen darted after her, the kladenet trailing behind. There would be time to ask about the glow later. Shots echoed outside, and one of the mercenaries on the pier fell into the water. Fatma. She took another who looked to be heading for the office, clearing the way for Chloe to hurl herself into danger.

  Damn. This was one more reason to only date in one’s own age bracket. Young people had no patience.

  * * *

  Chloe saw red and not just the color of Tabitha’s hair. She’d been worried about the little shit, had walked on eggshells to keep her out of the know, then had put herself and Ramses in further danger to keep Tabitha from getting hurt.

  Well, too hurt.

  And now, here she was amidst a nest of guards in the Caribbean? Chloe was sure as shit going to find out why.

  Ramses sprinted ahead, and a bit of sanity slapped into Chloe again. What if there was another trap? But if he wasn’t going to give her a lecture about taking things slowly, she wasn’t going to give him one, either, not when she knew Helen was following, those same words probably burning a hole in her brain.

  The door was still slightly ajar, and Chloe barreled through after Ramses went through the side of the office.

  Tabitha whirled from the other end, a phone at her ear. Ramses stood beyond a circle of glyphs that surrounded her. Nothing else waited in the rectangular room, but some writing that Chloe couldn’t read had been carved into the wall at Tabitha’s back.

  She smiled, actually fucking smiled like they were old friends reunited. “Chloe, I guess you found what you were looking for out in the wilds of Texas? Thanks for the lift to the hospital, by the way. I had not planned for that evening to end in a concussion.” As Helen stepped through the door, Tabitha grinned wider. “Oh, good, you’re both here. I didn’t really expect you to team up, either.” She shook a finger in Chloe’s direction. “You’re not supposed to be fraternizing with the mythic entities you hunt. Except for the one, of course.”

  “What are you doing here, Tabitha?” Chloe asked, advancing until she stood at Ramses’s side.

  “Is he here?” Tabitha asked, face still annoyingly cheerful. “King Ramses?” She pointed to the glowing glyphs. “He should not step on these. Neither should you, really. No matter what, I never really wanted you dead.” She glanced at Helen, and her smile slipped a little. “You might be a different matter.”

  Chloe just kept herself from stepping in front of Helen. She had her sword in hand again and looked ready to skin Tabitha alive. “Why did you do all this?” Chloe asked. “Killing people? Blowing up my fucking car?”

  “Well, I had planned to do that in the boonies and strand you, but as I said, concussion.” She touched the side of her head. “I wanted to strand you in Houston for a bit instead, but you’re very resourceful. How in the hell did you persuade a demon to join your team? A has-been of a demigod is one thing, but a freaking demon? Naughty, Chloe.”

  Has-been demigod? Did she not know she was talking about the greatest woman in the fucking world? “All right, come out of there and tell me to my face what the hell it is that you want.”

  “Um, no, don’t think I’ll do that.” She cocked her head. “But since you’re all about making new friends, I’ll let you come in.” She batted her lashes. “It would be nice to have someone with the blood of Isis and a helpful pharaoh on my team.”

  “And what team is that?” Helen asked. She pointed to the writing on the wall with an elegant finger. “That’s demonic script. And you’re lecturing us about allying ourselves with hell?”

  “Using, sweetie, not allying. There’s a difference. Demons are hired guns just like any other. And mostly, they stick to their own shithole dimension. So I’m really curious what you had to offer your friendly demon.” She narrowed her eyes as if studying them. “I mean, he’s an incubus, so there’s an obvious answer, but I’m sensing something else here.” She moved a finger between them. “A little blood of the gods hanky-panky? Chloe, doll, you can do better.”