The person who’d bound him to Chloe’s family over a millennia ago. She couldn’t ask if he said the same thing about everyone he’d been bound to, scared that it might be true. She needed strength like Zahra’s today.

  But it could wait a bit. She leaned toward him. He didn’t have a solid presence or the warmth of a living body, but she felt his great store of spiritual energy, a feeling that had grown more comforting than flesh and blood as time went on. “I had something to prove back then. I got tired of watching Jamie and Mom and feeling like I was outside looking in.”

  “And now you’ve proven yourself time and again.”

  “Tell that to my asshole brain.”

  “Very well. Hear me, O Brain of Asshole-ishness, and obey,” he said close to her head, making her giggle. “Stop waking Chloe up and making her doubt herself.”

  With another chuckle, she sagged against the headboard. “Thanks, Pharoah.”

  “My pleasure.” He smiled gently. “Now, about our wager from last night…”

  She nodded and put her hand out. She hadn’t been able to banish Goodspeed on her own, so she had to pay her debt. “I’ll get Apple TV.”

  “Yes!” He grinned and put his hand near hers, making the hair on her arm stand on end as they went through the motions of shaking hands. “Now, are you going to shower or go back to sleep?”

  “Shower.” She shifted toward the other side of the bed.

  “Good. By the look of you, I’m counting myself lucky that I have no sense of smell.”

  She chucked a pillow at him as she snorted a laugh and stood, taking her overnight bag and shuffling into the bathroom. “I really hope we don’t have to investigate anything else for at least a week.”

  Ramses appeared in front of the laptop once more, crossing his sandaled feet on the foot of the bed. “I feel I do have to remind you that a few months ago, you complained that you didn’t have enough to do.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Tell that to my knee.”

  “Hear me, O Knee—”

  She barked a laugh and shut the bathroom door.

  With a long sigh, she leaned against the shower wall and let the warm water wash over her, easing her tense muscles. Could she have been happy being a freelance tech writer and editor? Maybe. It was what she’d imagined after she’d put away adolescent dreams of being a monster hunter like so many of her ancestors. There was just so much about that life no one had mentioned: sore knees and self-doubt and the hard water of hotel showers, when she had to use damn near the whole tiny bottle of shampoo to feel clean.

  But the work crew at the park would be able to take Goodspeed’s statue down now, and no one else would get hurt.

  She smiled at herself in the mirror as she dried off. Take that, O Brain of Asshole-ishness.

  * * *

  Under cover of darkness, Helen made her way to the large beach hut she’d rented, the bag containing the ambrosia slung over one shoulder. She’d spent the rest of the afternoon under an umbrella on the sand, reading a book on her phone and sipping a frozen Jack and Coke, a thoroughly pleasant way to spend a few hours. Maurice had yet to put in an appearance, but she wasn’t too worried. If he’d proven anything in their acquaintance, it was that he could take care of himself.

  Though, without her transport, he would find the journey back to her island a little grueling.

  Pegasus whinnied a greeting as soon as Helen opened the door to the hut. “Hello,” she said, finally letting herself really relax as she stepped inside and turned on the small overhead light. The soft glow reflected off Pegasus’s white coat and feathered wings. “I return triumphant. Sorry I took so long. I had to wait for dark.”

  He pawed the ground, a gesture of congratulations, and tossed his head in his equine version of a shrug.

  “Thank you. One quick call and we’re on our way.” She dialed the satellite phone at her villa on the island.

  The Sphinx picked up quickly. “Morningdale Orchids, how may I direct your call?”

  “It’s me.” She made a mental note to ask how the Sphinx’s latest business venture was going. Rare orchids couldn’t be that easy to grow and sell, but the Sphinx liked to keep busy. “We’re about to start back. Did the regular delivery come?”

  “Not yet,” the Sphinx said. “But I’ll meander toward the dock and take a look. Maybe I’ll meet the smugglers there, give them a fright.”

  Helen tried to quash the flutter of panic in her gut, telling herself that it was a joke, that the Sphinx knew the protocol, but, but… “Um, someone who can pass for human should—”

  “And that’s a fail,” the Sphinx said, their tone implying that Helen was the epitome of uncool. “You must have had a hard day, babe. Relax. I’ll find one of the naiads or someone to go check, don’t worry.”

  Helen sighed and took a deep breath. Fighting the urge to repeat herself, to remind, to reiterate, to warn if necessary was a Sisyphean struggle, but the Sphinx was right. It had been a hard day, or at least, a busy one. Pretending to be a bonehead, then flirting with Abados had taken a lot out of her.

  “You really need a fuck buddy,” the Sphinx said.

  “Oh sure. I’ll make a dating profile, shall I? ‘Undying demigoddess seeks adoring worshiper for casual fun in whichever random city she’s forced to go to once a decade.’ The requests will come flooding in.”

  “Is there any point in me saying that you have admirers aplenty in the sanctuary?”

  “Do you really want to rehear my speech on how I can’t fool around with those under my protection?”

  “Nope.”

  “Same.”

  The Sphinx chuckled. “You didn’t happen to, uh, score anything else while in town, did you?”

  Helen rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Why can’t you grow your own weed?”

  “Maybe someday, I will. But I’d rather learn while already possessing some. My arthritic paws will thank me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Helen said, her frustration dulled by shame. “Like you said, it’s been a long day.”

  The Sphinx made a kissing noise. “I’m sorry for keeping you on the phone. Come home. I’ll start the cocoa. You can have yours in the bath.”

  “Sounds like heaven. Hey,” she added, “now that I think about it, I already arranged for a shipment of your ‘medicine’ to be delivered tomorrow from our smuggling contacts.”

  “Bless you, my dear. I’m sorry I ever doubted. Fly safe.”

  Helen hung up and checked outside again. Since the moon had already set, she saw nothing but the bright lights of the avenue that fronted the beach. If any lovers were entwined nearby, they’d have to draw their own conclusions about hoofbeats and flapping wings.

  She switched off the lights of the hut, and Pegasus followed her outside. She lifted herself onto his back with ease, holding tight with her knees, though Pegasus would never throw her. Now, all she had to do was—

  “Wait!” Maurice’s voice.

  Helen sighed and chuckled. Right on time. Maurice sounded out of breath when he reached them. Pegasus gave a soft whinny of hello.

  “How did you get away from Crystal?” Helen asked.

  “Didn’t until just now.” Pegasus’s mane brushed over Helen’s knuckles as Maurice tangled himself in the strands so he didn’t fall off on the trip.

  She frowned. “Was she that powerful?”

  “In magic, no. In her other charms—”

  “No, stop. I don’t want to know.” But her mind was already working. Logistically, how would they—she shook her head. No, ugh. Still, she had a duty to ask, “And she’s all right? Staying out in the world?”

  “She doesn’t need your sanctuary,” Maurice said, and she could hear an undercurrent of irritation, affront that any of the fair folk would need her help. That he needed her help.

  “I just wondered if she wanted a place where she could relax, be herself.”

  He was silent for a few moments. She waited patiently, Pegasus shifting under her as they stood on the beach. In the dark, it was almost like they were both invisible. He only ever shared deep thoughts when he couldn’t see her well. Or when he was drunk on mushroom wine.

  “She likes it out in the world,” he finally said. “In ways that I tired of long ago.” That was the closest he’d come to not only thanking Helen but admitting the sanctuary was home.

  Still, she hid her smile, even in the dark. The unpredictability of fairies had already been proven today. She did feel the need to add, “Me too,” letting him know that the thing he didn’t want to say, that she wasn’t supposed to know, was known and understood and reciprocated. Though, no doubt they’d stay the kind of family who was uncomfortable with hugs and punched each other in the shoulder to show affection.

  One quick word to Pegasus and they took off over the ocean, heading toward the small island that had managed to stay lost among many others in the Caribbean. Long ago, Helen had used her then-substantial savings to buy it, when she’d decided that relics of myth like herself needed a sanctuary. After living so long, there seemed little else in life to hope for.

  Even those with a bad reputation deserved someplace they could thrive. Otherwise, they’d wind up captured by humans or in various underworlds, many falling under the care of the unscrupulous dead, or so her contacts had told her.

  But even that sounded better than nothingness after death. Helen didn’t see why any creature needed to risk death or what came after when they might live forever if left alone. If only humanity was less selfish about sharing their world with anyone who didn’t fit their narrow view of the universe. Even science had an exception to every rule. She was personally a big fan of both science and mathematics, and both fields acknowledged the concept of endless possibilities.

  If only humans could be as…bendable.

  Helen leaned her head back as the wind combed chaotically through her hair. She closed her eyes to the starlight and let memory overtake her. She’d loved humans once, had loved among them. She’d even been able to contact the dead for the past few years, ever since the walls between the levels of the Greek Underworld had been brought down. The living who had the power of mediumship could now hear the voices of those in the Elysian Fields or the many realms of Tartarus.

  Still, as happy as talking to those she’d loved made her, Helen hoped the mortal-turned-god who’d assumed the mantle of queen of the Greek Underworld wouldn’t keep the throne. What if she decided to tear down the final wall, the one that would let the dead rise from the grave?

  She couldn’t even imagine the chaos that would cause. Even the elder gods hadn’t done it, and those creatures were unhinged.

  Or what if the new queen decided that the survivors of all the old myths should step into the light? Helen had vowed to never, ever mingle freely with humanity again, not without a disguise. Not if she’d have to hear those two little words. Every day. For the rest of existence:

  Of Troy.

  As if she’d never done anything in her life but be forced into the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Pegasus’s whinny brought her back to herself. She was clenching his mane too hard.

  “Sorry,” she tried to call above the wind. Count to ten. Breathe. No need to dwell on ifs and maybes. What mattered was that she’d had a successful trip and was returning home to a bastion of safety and the best friends a demigoddess could ask for. She was a survivor, not a whiner, and that meant she owed her help to those who weren’t so great at surviving.

  As if summoned, Maurice began to glow, his tiny body outlined in fairy fire where he was tangled in Pegasus’s mane. He was staring at her with luminous green eyes, his wings folded behind him like a moth’s and his head thrust forward, feathery antennae tilted toward her. His handsome face peered at her from the dandelion-like fluff of his hair and beard. He mouthed, “Are you okay?” slowly, as if he knew he’d never be heard over the wind.

  She nodded, choking up, touched at the words and floored at the fact that he’d risked visibility to utter them. She forgave him for everything about that day. He might even have factored that into his decision about whether to appear. Still, she loved the little bastard. Someone with as short a temper as his would have been discovered long ago if they didn’t have her sanctuary. And so, she had an obligation to keep up her sanctuary. Simple logic.

  If only all her problem children would realize the fact that running loose in the world and causing trouble would only get them attacked by missiles or torpedoes or something, even if they tried to keep low profiles. Any murders or kidnappings they might commit were going to be noticed, either by law enforcement or monster hunters, especially those who possessed some psychic ability. For them, anything out of the ordinary equaled evil, never mind the fact that they owed their gifts to some very extraordinary ancestors, some of whom she’d met.

  Some of whom she’d trusted.

  Two of whom had betrayed her.

  But we’re not going to think about that.

  With Pegasus’s speed, it only took four hours before Helen caught the flash of one of her warning buoys. They kept anyone from innocently straying too close to the island, a registered site of previous nuclear tests. She or one of her charges had a long history with local pirates, smugglers, and the rulers and politicians of the various countries nearby. They remade those connections with every generation so local residents and visitors were routinely warned away. And if someone did reach land, the creatures there were more than capable of magically rattling their brains a bit before releasing them back into the world. A thick canopy of trees kept them a secret from the air, and the island itself wasn’t large enough to be considered the newest tourist spot.

  Isolated. Perfect. Just a tad lonely, but she had to expect that just from living so long.

  Chapter Four

  Helen passed the dock and aimed for a particular patch of trees. It was only a glamour designed to fool airborne eyes, but she couldn’t see through it. Pegasus seemed to, or more likely, he knew his food was down there somewhere. He was an immortal, intelligent horse, but he was still a horse at heart.

  They passed through a dark blur, and Pegasus alighted gently on the lawn. Beneath the glamour, the clearing was lit by a single floodlight and a string of bulbs that led from the landing area to her house. Helen slipped down just as Maurice fluttered away with barely a good-bye. Helen thanked Pegasus with a kiss on his soft nose, then sent him on his way to the paddock.

  With a yawn, the Sphinx rose from where she lay beneath the wooden lattice of a huge gazebo. “Good flight?” Though nowhere near as large as her namesake statue at Giza, she was still impressive at eight feet tall, with her muscular lioness body and a dark, feminine head. She wore her black hair in a multitude of braids that were currently pulled into a twist behind her.

  Helen put a hand to her back and stretched. “About the only thing that went as planned.” She sighed before the Sphinx could point out that some of the island’s denizens would love to get out once in a while, no matter how the plan went. “I’m sorry. I know all I do is whine lately.”

  The Sphinx shrugged one tawny shoulder. “Understandable.” She looked back as Helen followed her to the huge solarium attached to the house. “It’s still no fun to listen to, don’t get me wrong.” She winked.

  Helen breathed a laugh. The solarium was lit by a few softly glowing lamps rigged with large footpads so the Sphinx could turn them off and on. As Helen sat on a small chaise lounge next to a much larger one, the Sphinx gently pulled the huge glass door closed. Cool air began trickling in from the main house, and Helen slipped her shoes off, luxuriating.

  “You might not want to get too comfortable,” the Sphinx said, a hint of apology in her golden eyes.

  Helen held in the epic sigh she really wanted to let out. “Why? I thought there was a bath and cocoa in my future.”

  “We could wait until you have a drink in hand. Maybe one of my special cookies?”

  Tempting, but Helen shook her head. If she drank or took anything, a sigh could quickly become a tirade, rant, or another episode like the one that had destroyed the building that had stood here before the solarium.

  When the nereid Psamathe had first showed her face at the sanctuary after betraying Helen centuries ago.

  I thought we’d decided that we aren’t going to think about that.

  Right. “Just tell me that nothing’s gone wrong with our, um, rehabilitating brethren,” Helen said.

  “No, all the prisoners are accounted for.”

  “Sphinx, we’ve been over this. Beings like the Lamia—”

  “I know, I know. Everyone is capable of redemption, and all our ‘rehabilitating brethren’ need is more time to see the error of their evil ways.” She waved a paw. “But we don’t need to get into any old debates because they’re all still here.”

  Helen was too tired to make a true retort. “So why am I not getting comfortable?”

  “I think there might be a griffin near a place called Waxahachie in Texas.”

  Gods. She knew where Texas was, at least, and it wasn’t too far, even if it was huge. And a griffin wouldn’t be that much trouble to corral. And if it had been imprisoned and shipped to the area, at least she’d have someone to take her bad mood out on. “And how do we know this?”

  “Well, one of the nereids heard it from a whale who got it from a naiad who still lives near Galveston, and she—”

  Helen nodded. “I get the picture.” The water creature gossip network was vast, but luckily, it was also surprisingly accurate. “Any signs it’s in grave danger or being horribly mistreated?”

  “Oh, I wasn’t suggesting you go right this minute.”

  Helen fought the urge to glare. “Then what did ‘don’t get too comfortable’ mean?”