Chapter 8

It didn't take longto get to Bathin's place because in a town as small as ours, it didn't take long to get anywhere.

When he'd first come to town, Bathin had spent his nights in one of the stones in Ordinary that he, because of his power, could access.

But after some time, he'd stopped hiding out in those stones. A few months ago, he'd found a rental house. He paid for it by taking care of the house and yard while the owners were away (they'd been away for over a decade) and covered his other expenses with the money he brought home from his work with the veterinarian and animal shelter.

Three cats lazed out in the sunlight under the big rhodie bushes that hedged one side of the tiny, cedar shake cottage that had weathered down to a soft, dove gray.

"You don't need to come in," I said.

Crow just rolled his eyes and pushed open the Jeep door.

I sighed, shut the door, and followed after him.

By the time I reached the little covered porch, he was knocking on the door.

There was the sound of footsteps, heavy footsteps, and then the door opened.

Bathin filled the doorway, and I do mean filled.

All demons could choose their appearance. It was part of what made deal-making work so well for them. They could appear just as ugly or attractive as the job required. Bathin had gone all-in on attractive. He was built like a stack of bricks, muscles on top of muscles, a rugged, but damn fine-looking face, sun-baked skin, dark wavy hair, and eyes that could set panties on fire.

My sister's panties, not mine.

His shoulders were too wide for the narrow doorway. He tipped them down slightly and angled his body toward us.

"Can we come in?"

"No." He tucked his phone into the front pocket of his short-sleeved, forest green button-down shirt. The color made his eyes pop, and the short sleeves showed off his huge forearms and the swell of his biceps.

"I'm fostering a couple cats, and they aren't comfortable with people yet."

"We aren't really people," Crow said.

"Neither am I, Crow. What do you need, Delaney? Everything all right? It's my mother isn't it? She told you?"

"Told me what?"

Little kitten meows called out from deeper in the house. He stepped out, letting the screen door close behind him.

"Sounds like a lot of cats," Crow observed.

"It's eight. It's not a lot until you have over a dozen."

Crow made a show of counting while pointing at the half dozen cats in the yard. "Sorry to break it to ya, buddy…"

"Mother received a message from the courts."

"What court?" I asked.

"Hell. The kingdom she once ruled."

"Okay, what was the message, and how was it delivered?"

"It was left on her doorstep."

"Let me guess," Crow said. "In a box. With nothing but a circle and a red feather stamped on it."

It was a subtle shift. A hardening of Bathin's stance, his muscles, and then it was gone, washed away like water over stone. In place of that sudden dangerousness, was an affable smile. As if he and Crow had been buddy-buddy for years.

"That's right," Bathin said. "In a box, just like you guessed, with a feather, just like you guessed. You want to tell me how you know that, Trickster god, when she hasn't told anyone but me?"

"She doesn't have a front door," I said. "She's a pony. She's supposed to be in Hogan's yard eating grass."

"She took over the spare room."

Of course she had. "It was left at his front door?"

He shook his head. One of the kittens decided to Mission Impossible the screen door, and made a jump for it. The kitten stuck on the screen like a furry dart that slowly inched downward.

"She was very specific about it being in front of her door, not Hogan's front door," Bathin said. "Hogan has assured me there are boundaries he was more than capable of enforcing. He mentioned his gnome army."

I huffed a laugh. "Yeah, he sort of has an in with them. Do you know what the message was?"

"It was a ring."

"How is that a message?"

"It was the ring she wore when she led the hoards into the Bothersome Battle against Sticksquim the Screamed."

I frowned.

"You never read about that battle? Well, she also wore the ring into the Conflict of Consequence with Boraka the Bad."

"Who names your wars?" Crow asked. "You need to fire them."

"Is the ring a weapon?" I asked.

"Why?"

"We're following up on two other packages that have been left at people's doorsteps. Both reported this morning. Did Xtelle receive her package this morning?"

"According to the call I got from her screaming about it? Yes."

"She has a phone?"

He cast his eyes heavenward, which was pretty funny considering he was a demon and even less likely to receive relief from those quarters. "She has a phone."

A second kitten attacked the screen, this one finding less purchase. It burped out little mews all the way back down to the ground.

"What kind of weapons have been delivered?" Bathin asked. "I'm assuming none of them are as mundane as guns or switchblades."

"You assume correctly," I said. "What does your mother's ring do?"

"It makes her invincible. Might stop time."

"For real?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "That's what she's always said. I was there with her in the Skippy Skirmish against Thatbottom the Thick. Some of the things she did there, I still can't explain."

"Really," Crow said. "Fire your marketing department. They're making all your fights sound like they took place on a kindergarten playground."

"Is the ring famous?" I asked. "She's well known to use it in battle?"

"Among her enemies, she is."

"And her allies?"

"Not sure she has those anymore. But yes, demons know of it. I'd guess other beings do too. Or at least those who occasionally crack open a book and read up on this stuff."

"Hey, I read."

He gave me a small smile. "Not according to your sister you don't. You just ask her about the important stuff."

"That's because she's the keeper of the library. It's her job. You can stop grinning at me now. Did she tell you to try and get a rise out of me about this?" I knew I was starting to blush, could feel the prickly heat on my cheeks.

I'd been slacking a little on keeping up on my ancient lore refreshers. Myra had inherited the library instead of me. I was so glad it was in her capable hands, I'd stepped away from the studies we'd all been doing pretty much since we could read.

Dad had never forced it on us, but books were important, and all three of us Reed sisters were voracious readers at heart.

"You are so easy sometimes, Delaney," Bathin said. I was reminded that he had been in possession of my soul for a long time. Long enough to know how to push my buttons. "Feeling a little guilty your studies have slacked off now that you've gotten yourself a fiancé?"

"Good-bye, Bathin. I'm going to go talk to your mother now." I turned.

"Spending too much time in the bedroom instead of the classroom?" he called out.

"Call me if you hear of any other weapons being delivered."

"Checking him out instead of checking books out?"

I was at the Jeep, one hand on the door. "Save it for the talent show," I yelled back.

I got in the Jeep and Crow swung into the passenger side. Bathin gave us a wave before very carefully opening the screen door, dislodging kittens who fell like fat, fuzzy snowballs.

He bent and gently gathered them into his arms, cradling four of them close to his chest before stepping into the house and closing the door.

"He's good with them," Crow noted.

"The kittens?"

"Insults." Crow threw me a look. "Yes, the kittens. I didn't know."

"You? One of the snoopiest gods in town, didn't know Bathin had a thing for cats?"

"I'm not snoopy, I'm attentive. I've seen him at the clinic and the adoption place, but in those spaces there is an expectation for him to behave a certain way. There isn't that same expectation here."

"Is it hard to believe he likes cats?"

"Been around demons for a long time, remember?"

"Yep. You remind me daily. Even twice daily."

"Demons don't like kittens."

"Agreed. But Bathin had Dad's soul for a long time. Then mine. He's not just a demon anymore. Or, maybe he is just a demon, but one who has continued to learn and grow. One who has learned there are more important things than torturing humans.

"Plus," I said, "he's in love. There's a chance he might screw it up with Myra. But that's how it goes, right? Life? You just jump in and give it your best shot with the people you love, and make the most of it you can."

He wasn't smiling, not really, but there was a softness to his face as he glanced over at me.

"You might want to apply that to a certain reluctant bride I know."

"Every word. I regret every word I just said."

"Might want to tell her she can just jump in and it's going to all work out. Messy, maybe, but weddings and marriages and life," he said with a little extra emphasis, "tend to work out."

"I'm officially declaring this," I waved a hand between us, "a relationship advice free zone. Good?"

He mimed zipping his lips and throwing the key away.

For a very short minute, he was silent. Then he started humming Going to the Chapel by the Dixie Cups.

I drove faster.