Chapter Twelve

My grandma was thrilled to learn about the Hounds of Hades and how I had met two of them. Not so much about the possibility of me becoming a mate to the entire Cerberus team. However, she took that better than I thought. As expected, she had great advice for me. She reminded me that there were many charms that could be employed to protect me from love spells. In fact, they're the easiest charms to make. Some were as simple as picking a flower. But I loved my potions and knew that nothing worked as well as something you ingested. So, I went that route.

Grandma even helped me charge the potion, chanting with me through the phone's speaker. Magic is all about intention. Distance has no bearing. So, I wasn't surprised to feel her power add to mine, swirling through the dark tincture of herbs. I took the potion while I was still on the phone with her, but it wasn't a potion whose effects you could immediately feel, and I had no way of testing it. So Grandma said she'd pray to Persephone on my behalf. If there was anyone who could stop Hades's spell, it was his wife. And, as a victim of an arranged marriage (to put it lightly), Persephone might be inclined to help another woman escape a similar fate.

After my talk with my grandma, I got to work. I needed something to distract me for a few hours. I refilled my potions, then went out to help work the bar.

The night was calm and normal for the first bit. But then a man walked in and changed that. He was good-looking, with a Latin look and a closely cropped beard. But it wasn't his appearance that caused a stir. It was the way he started drawing people aside to speak to them.

I didn't notice it at first. But then I saw him leading a man over to a group of people who were sitting on one of the couches near the back of the bar. The guy he was leading looked as if he was in a daze. He sat down among the others and they all gave the Latin guy their full attention.

I wandered over to the nearest empty table and tried to eavesdrop as I cleared away the glasses and beer bottles.

“God will protect and guide you,” the guy said.

I scowled at that. It wasn't completely unheard of for a religious fanatic to stroll in and try to convert people, but this felt different.

He went on, “He sent me to form an army in his name.”

Oh, fuck. No way. It couldn't be.

“An army to fight what?” a woman asked.

“Demons.”

One of the people snorted.

“I will prove to you that I'm an angel.”

I glanced over. The Latin guy slumped forward and the man beside him gasped.

“And I am here,” the second man spoke in the same tone as the Latin guy. Then he slumped. The woman beside him shuddered, then said, “And here.”

The same thing happened to each of them, moving in a circle until it returned to the Latin man.

He inhaled deeply and straightened in his seat. “I'm the Archangel Michael. Do you believe me now?”

“Yes,” they all said, stares focused on him in wonder.

“Oh, hell no!” I shouted and stomped over to the group.

Everyone in the bar stopped what they were doing to look at me.

“Wreck-It!” I called.

“Coming, boss!” Ralph's voice sailed across the bar.

“Get up,” I snarled at Michael. “I know who you are, you bastard.” To the people he'd been conning, I said, “He's not an angel. He's an escaped soul who can jump bodies. He just possessed all of you. He wants you to kill innocent people so they can't take him back to hell.”

As if coming out of a spell, the people on the couch shook themselves, then gaped at me. Then at Michael.

“Get out of here,” I said to Michael.

The Latin man stood up with a curious expression on his face. “Now, who do we have here?” He peered at me. “What are you? You seem human and yet not.”

“I'm here, boss,” Ralph said as he stepped up beside me.

“Escort this asshole out of my bar, Wreck-It,” I said. To Michael, I added, “Don't come back. No matter what body you steal, I'll know it's you.”

“Really?” Michael's current body stumbled.

Wreck-It gasped.

I looked at my employee in horror.

Ralph turned toward me with a smirk. “I think you'll be the one leaving.” He reached for me.

“That is quite enough of that bullshit!” someone roared.

I looked over to see one of my regulars get up from his table. Devin. He was just as handsome as Darius and Dominic, maybe even more so. With dark, wavy hair down to his broad shoulders and a pair of green eyes that always seemed to be twinkling with mischief, Devin—what was it with D names?—was movie star-handsome. But he wasn't a player like Darius. He always sat with the women he came with. And he left with them. All four of them. Not to imply that he was with them romantically. I'd never seen anything more intimate than a shoulder-grab between them. If I had to guess, I'd say they were very close friends.

Devin's very close friends stared at Michael as if studying something slimy that had grown legs. And Devin looked especially disgusted. He strode up to Wreck-It, his walk casual and loose, but there was something dangerous about him. Hovering in his aura. Suddenly, he wasn't the nice guy who came by weekly for a few drinks and some cheap bar food. He was power incarnate. And I knew, just knew, that I was in the presence of a god.

What the actual fuck was going on in my life?! First, I discovered that one of my patrons was a shapeshifter, then an escaped soul walked in, and now I had a god.

“You are ruining my favorite drinking spot,” Devin said. “And that is not allowed.” He poked his finger into Wreck-It's chest.

Ralph jerked back and stumbled. The Latin guy, who'd been calmly waiting to one side with a far-off expression, gasped as Michael returned to him.

“Surprise, surprise,” Devin drawled as he turned his attention to Michael's original host. “The dogs aren't the only ones who can evict you. Remember that, moron.”

“Who are you?” Michael whispered.

Devin grinned. “Someone more powerful than you.” He grimaced. “Look, I don't give a fuck about who you possess out there.” He pointed at the door. “But I like it in here. It's not like other bars. It's relatively quiet in here. Calm. This woman knows how to treat her patrons. It reminds me of some of the taverns I used to go to. Not a lot of those around anymore. As in, only this one. So I'm declaring that it's under my protection. Get the fuck out, or I'll hold you in that body until the local Cerberus comes to take you back to the Underworld.”

“If you could do that, I'd appreciate it,” I said. “This guy has been giving them trouble.”

“You know Cerberus?” Devin eyed me.

“Two of them.”

“Huh. You just got even more interesting, Amélie.” He looked me up and down. “And what would I get in return for my help?”

“Uh. Free drinks for a month?”

He lifted a brow.

“And food.”

Devin pursed his lips and nodded as he reached for Michael. But before he could grab the soul, its host body shuddered. Devin's hand went through the man's chest—literally into it—and came out with a white, cloudy mass.

“Damn it,” Devin muttered and shoved the nebulous thing back into the man. “He's gone.”

Michael's host stumbled back, his eyes wide, then he bolted through the crowd of gaping onlookers. I watched him go, then realized that we had a problem.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered. “Witnesses.”

“No worries, darling,” Devin drawled. “I didn't hold up my end of the bargain, so I'll take care of this for free.”

Devin waved his hand, and a shimmer ran through the bar. As it passed through people, they swayed. It left everyone blinking in confusion. Then Devin clapped once and instantly, the dazed people went back to what they'd been doing pre-Michael. Conversations resumed, glasses were lifted, and the wait staff started weaving through the tables again. Even Wreck-It went back to the bar without a word to me. The only ones unaffected were Devin's friends, Devin, and me.

“Which god are you?” I asked him.

Devin smirked. “Good girl. Took you long enough to recognize my status.”

I snorted. “I wouldn't have if you hadn't done all that.”

“True. I guess you're not that impressive after all.” He turned to saunter back to his table. “But I do love your establishment.”

“Thank you.” I followed him. “And thank you for your help.”

“Don't mention it.”

As Devin sat down, his companions watched me. Their stares felt sharp. Piercing in the most disturbing way.

“So, which one are you?” I asked again. “And are they gods too?” I nodded at the women.

They snickered.

“They're my attendants,” Devin said. He stared at me a second, then added, “I'll give you one more chance to impress me, Amélie. These women are Maenads. Now, who am I?”

I stepped back. Maenads. Holy fuck! All this time there had been a pack of Maenads in my bar. Myths said they were wild women who loved to get drunk. But it wasn't the alcohol that made them wild. No, that was their nature. A nature inherited from their god. Maenads were the followers of—

“Dionysus,” I whispered.

Devin grinned. “Well done.”

Dionysus was viewed as a party guy by most people. The God of Wine and all that. Those were the people who were spoon-fed myths and never read beyond the popular shit. Dionysus was the God of Revelry, yes, but he was also the God of Madness. And he was given that title because, as a child, he delighted in tearing other children to pieces with his bare fucking hands and then bringing them back to life. The other gods called him “the mad one” or “the raging one.” Zeus's little monster. I'd always wondered if he started drinking to quell that madness. He certainly seemed calm when he was in my bar.

But what were myths? Just stories. Maybe I shouldn't judge him by gossip. Especially after he just did me a good turn. So, I reclaimed my ground and dropped into a deep curtsy.

“Welcome to Hair of the Dog, Great Dionysus. Please, allow me to fetch you another round of drinks and whatever you'd like to eat. On the house, of course.”

Devin straightened in his seat and beamed at me. “Well, shit. If I'd known you'd be so polite, I would have revealed myself to you sooner. I mean, I sensed the magic in you, but I didn't know you were a follower of us old gods.”

“Not a follower, exactly. But I know enough to show you respect.”

He nodded. “Smart girl. And don't worry. I wasn't lying about this being my favorite bar and once I give my protection, it's eternal. That soul won't be bothering you again.”

“Did I say one round was on the house? I meant the next four.”

The Maenads hooted with glee and threw their hands into the air.

Devin chuckled. “In that case, we'll each have a bottle of your best wine.”

“Coming right up. I'll get you some wings too. And some baskets of fries.”

“I knew I liked you, Amélie.”

I smiled at him before I walked away, but my hands were shaking. A god. The fucking God of Madness. No, I wasn't going to judge him, but he still scared the shit out of me. I would have offered him free drinks for life, but with the way Devin drinks, that might have put me out of business. So, a few rounds would have to do it, and I'd pray it was enough to keep me on his good side. I'd rather deal with a hundred Michaels than one angry Dionysus.