Chapter Ten

“Who could have done this? It has to be someone powerful, right?”

Milly nodded, scrubbing her eyes with a balled up tea napkin. “A god, definitely.”

Oh, goody, Emily thought. More gods. My batting average currently stinks against regular monsters, how would I do with a true immortal?

“Haven’t you asked the other gods? Do you ever see them? Is-is that a thing god-people do?”

Milly laughed. “Not like you’d think. We get together every couple of millennia to hang out, but with about sixty-five million clients a year, you can see how busy my dad is. He has to leave and travel to Olympus or the mortal realm if he wants to chat with most of the other gods. No one but my cousin Hermes ever comes to see us. Zeus, Poseidon, Athena, Aphrodite, Ares, Hephaestus—they’re all way too busy. Or too self-important. Everyone’s so scared of my dad,” Milly snorted suddenly, “and he’s the most down-to-earth, humblest god of all. Down to earth? Get it?”

Emily nodded. She’d have to tell Simeon that Hades hadn’t just passed on his good looks, but also his bad dad jokes.

Simeon and Milly would make a stunning couple.

That thought made her sick, made her fists itch to hit something.

Focus, Van Helsing.

“I get it. So, a god did this. Why?”

“Two motives. Revenge or desire. They want to get back at someone, or they want to get something. Either way, you need to start with my grandma.”

“As... as a suspect?” Emily winced. She didn’t like the thought of interrogating little old ladies, and then realized that Milly was at least a thousand years old and looked like a college student. How fast did gods age? Could they alter their appearances at will? If so—great. Just great. Maybe Zag and Milly had been seeing their mother or her kidnapper over and over and never recognizing them.

Milly looked at her hands for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think so—but I don’t know. When I think of people who could get hurt by someone taking Mom, it would be Dad, Zag, and me, or Grandma Demeter. Maybe someone wants revenge on her. She and Poseidon had a pretty hefty fight once, but... I never hear about it these days. The other thing is... Grandma loves Mom. I mean, all moms love their kids, but my mom was never out of Demeter’s sight. She made single parenting an art form. My dad is the only one who could even come close. Demeter took my mom to sit on her lap in Olympus every day. My mother told us that Demeter was no more than an arm’s length away for most of her life. It was like she was afraid someone was going to do this. When Dad whisked her away and Mom ate the fruit of the dead, meaning she couldn’t stay on Earth permanently... Well, it’s supposed to be a secret, but my mom once said,” Milly looked over her shoulder and leaned closer, “Demeter wasn’t really upset. She pretended to be furious with Hades and have Zeus act as a mediator.”

“Why pretend?”

Milly’s smooth brow crinkled up. “I don’t know. Huh. I really don’t know. I never got too far when I asked.”

“Van Helsing? I’m here.” Simeon appeared in the doorway, arms full of designer label bags. “Ah. This is Milly. Milly, I feel like I already know you, the way your dad goes on about you. Oxford girl, are you? I’m a Cambridge man myself.”

“Ooh. Smart, handsome, and immortal. Nice to meet you, too.” Milly’s teary eyes brightened, and she stuck out her hand.

Emily pretended she wasn’t thinking about throwing the teapot at the goddess’ head.

Jealousy is weird.

Milly left—leaving a table laden with plates, cups, and cookies.

“Uh. I guess we should leave tomorrow night? I mean, we can’t travel during the day. Unless we stay inside. We need a plan, where we intend to start.” Emily hurried to put the beautiful cups in the sink and rinse them out. Simeon’s cup was stained crimson, and she paused to wonder how Milly had managed that.

“I’ve got a lead. Idaho. The state with all the potatoes.” Simeon grabbed the small trash can that sat by her fridge and took it to the table. He began sweeping crumbs from the heavy tablecloth into it.

“Are you helping?” Emily asked.

“Of course I’m bloody helping! I owe you, don’t I? For going on this little jaunt?”

“I’m going to miss a week’s worth of work,” Emily muttered as she put the cups in the sink. Why hadn’t she thought about that first? Survival first.

Because taking care of myself was always low down on the survival list. Survival of the human race first. Why am I helping the vampire race?

Her eyes flickered to Simeon, who was doing something with his phone and wallet.

The thought of him being tortured, the thought of Minegold being hurled into some never-ending pit of suffering— She winced and came back to reality when Simeon spoke.

He wasn’t talking to her, he was speaking into his phone.

“Alban? Can you take credit card payments for rent? No, I know I don’t live in one of your apartments, but the one Van Helsing rents? Yep. Yep. Well... Pay it through to January, okay? Here we go.”

“You can’t pay my rent!” Emily rushed over and grabbed his elbow.

Touching him made her jump inside.

Simeon hissed, “I’m not. Hades is. If he has to pull us off of work, the least he can do is cover expenses. That’s what he gave me this for.” He flashed a little piece of black plastic at her. Numbers glittered like silver scales on fish, visible one second and gone the next.

“Ta, Alban. Bye.”

Emily stared at the vampire who was now calmly picking up the plate of cookies and carrying it to the kitchen counter. “How did you know Alban Wymark was my landlord?”

“Van Helsing, who has lived here longer, you or me?”

“You.”

“And who helped you find this place?”

“You and Mr. Minegold.”

“Question asked, question answered.”

“So, the god of the underworld just gave you his credit card to use on whatever you like?”

“He is the god of wealth, too. I think as long as I can justify the business expenses, he’ll be all right with it. If we find his wife, he probably won’t care if we blow a million.” Simeon smiled at her. “Who knows where we might have to mingle, hm? Undercover investigators, that’s us. When’s the last time you bought yourself new clothes, pet?”

Emily blushed. She had to buy three new bras (she always brought bras in threes) in the last few months because the padding she’d gained from eating regularly and allowing herself the occasional treat (usually from Simeon or Minegold) had all collected up top.

“Clothes aren’t important,” she mumbled.

“Fine. Don’t let me spoil you,” he sighed and stuffed a cookie in his mouth. “Mm. These are good.”

“They were my mother’s. I mean—they were what my mother and I used to have every morning. Before my dad woke up. Before she left.”

Simeon stopped eating, a second cookie carefully placed back on the china plate. “She left? I thought she—”

“She left, and she died a week later. A crash on the A-1 in heavy rain, right near construction. Loose stones or something. She skidded.” Like I skidded. But no friendly monsters were there to save her .

“Oh, Emily. I knew she passed, but I didn’t know she left first.”

Heat hit her in the chest, a sick wave of grief. “She wouldn’t have died if it wasn’t for me.”

“All kids blame themselves, love. You can’t think that way.”

“She wanted me to leave with her, Simeon. She told me we had to leave and not come back because my dad’s work was too dangerous. That’s what she said. She knew who he was and what he did when they got married. I think she realized too late that I would be forced to train like he did, work like an adult, and she was worried I would get hurt.” Emily swallowed hard and only twitched a little when Simeon came and stood next to her, hand on the small of her back.

“But you didn’t leave?”

“She told me we couldn’t take anything with us and we couldn’t say goodbye to Daddy or he’d stop us. I begged her to let me stay and say goodbye to my dad. I remember... I remember I had just learned to whittle a stake, and he was actually proud of me. Happy with me. I knew I needed to leave, but I didn’t understand why I couldn’t say goodbye.”

“What kid would?”

“I don’t know. A smarter one than me? She left and said she would be coming back that next Saturday and that rain or shine, goodbyes said or not, I had to be ready to run to the car and get in without looking back. I waited all day Saturday. All morning Sunday. My dad hadn’t even noticed she was gone because there kept being food and I put myself to bed and got myself up in the morning.”

The vampire’s face said it all.

Even the monster would have known his wife was missing.

Hell, the god of—that’s awkward— the God of the Underworld is obsessed with finding his wife.

“The police came on Sunday afternoon. She had been coming to get me because I wouldn’t go with her when she left. I knew she loved me best. I knew, and I still... I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to my dad.” Her head hit Simeon’s chest with a soft sob. She had never told anyone this. Never had anyone to tell. Her father was shocked by her mother’s death, but even as a child, she could tell he was more angry than anything. Angry that he would have to maintain the physical and material needs of the household and a child. Instead of slowing down the pace of his hunting to care for his grieving daughter, he’d pulled her along at breakneck speed so she could be his shadow. Training now became twelve hours of her day, with minimal sleep and the minimum of schooling that would keep the authorities at bay.

“I would have wanted to say goodbye to my old man, too, if I’d had a chance to meet him in the first place. I get it, Emmy. I get it.” He kissed the top of her head.

And it was so tempting to turn her face upward and kiss him, to let her hands knead and delve, exploring him.

What if he dies, and I never get the chance to kiss him again?

That’s the way it ought to be.

So why didn’t her body know that?

Simeon patted her back and cleared his throat. “Well. Maybe this week’ll go better than you think. The town’ll be safe for a week. If we find Seph, I bet we can get Pine Ridge put in some permanent circle of protection. You’ll get a long, long vacation, Huntress.”

Emily wiped her eyes and hurried away from him. “That would be nice, Crow. But you realize this isn’t a vacation for me, right? This is just another saving-people disaster that I didn’t ask for. Worse, it’s a saving-vampire disaster. My dad would probably stake me first and you second at this point. I’m a traitor. Move your feet. There are crumbs all over the floor. I have to clean the carpet, or I’ll get ants.”

She couldn’t tell him any more secrets over the noisy old second-hand vacuum, and that was good. She didn’t want to let Simeon burrow his way into her heart any deeper.

That’s right, Simeon. You can dress it up and throw money at it, but all you’re doing is putting her in danger. You didn’t even try to do it yourself without asking for her help. She wouldn’t do this if it weren’t for Jakob and J.J.. Jesse and Sophie. The ones with proper souls.

Simeon felt a shudder of revulsion start in his stomach. He might rather spend eternity in a slime pit than put Emily at risk. He groaned inside, and kicked the plug out of the wall. The vacuum spun to silence.

“Damn it!” Emily hissed under her breath, one hand raking through the mussed wisps of her bangs. “Simeon, would Hades mind if I put a Hoover on his credit card? It’s sort of related to saving his wife. I can’t leave the apartment to get infested with ants and roaches while I’m away, right? No, no. Even I don’t believe that. Maybe one of the neighbors has a broom...”

“It’s not the machine, Emmy. It’s me. I wanted to talk.” Simeon pointedly kicked the plug. “Look... You should stay here and enjoy a week where you know you’ll get peace.” Simeon forcefully whipped the tablecloth from the table and started folding it. “I panicked, and I wanted your help. It was a knee-jerk reaction to having the ruddy God of the Underworld show up in my bedroom”

“Whoa. No boundaries, huh?” Emily’s stunned expression morphed into a small smile. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“Oi! I have never shown up and sat on your bed—”

Emily crossed her arms. “Hospital?”

“Wh— Well, never mind. You stay here, and I’ll sort this out. It’s my mess, not yours.” He looked out the window of her little second-floor flat. Night was rapidly turning to morning. “I’ve gotta go. Gotta get back to my place before daylight. I might end up roasted by the end of the week, better not start today.” He gave her a little bow with his head and headed for the door.

Her stomach twisted. Roasted?

He’s a murderer. He deserves roasting.

Her voice was soft, warning. “You’re going to have to be careful with the car. You could jump across a time zone and into daylight.”

He hesitated, hand on the doorknob. “I know. Hell. I’m lousy at remembering that stuff.”

The twisting turned into a raging tornado. “Simeon... I’m going to go with you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“What if the only time we can reach her is during the day? What if she’s held in someone’s home? You’re still a vampire. You can’t go into a private residence without an invite. You can’t go out in the daylight.”

“I’ll figure out something. I’ve survived almost two centuries without your help. Well—if I’m rounding.”

She laughed. God, he was really the only one who could make her laugh, and one of the ones she should never share that with. “I’m still going. I—I owe you a favor, too.”

“The money? Look, I can pay it back to Hades if it’s that big of a deal. I don’t care about—”

She was suddenly too close to him, angry eyes and intense fingertips digging into his chest. “I need to go.”

“I won’t screw it up, all right? J.J. and the rest will be safe.”

Emily’s hand latched onto his elbow. “I trust you. Not to screw it up, I mean. This isn’t just about Minegold or J.J. or anyone in this town. I...” All at once, she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t keep touching him. Instead, she busied herself with the vacuum again, plugging it back in but not switching it on. “I have reasons. For Milly. And Hades. And... other people.”

Mom. Me.

Simeon.

She flipped the switch, and the vacuum cleaner roared back to life. “We should leave at sunset tonight, or maybe a little before. You want to call Hades and make sure the windows on that thing have vampire-safe tinting?”

Her back was turned. The conversation was done.

Could it be... could it be that there was something there? Something beyond the talking, the training, and the hot, heavy kissing that still lingered in his mind?

Maybe she just wants a break from these four walls and this peaceful life. It’s different from what she used to have, that’s for sure.

Or maybe... maybe she wants me.

“We could make it back home every night. Or day. Not like we’ve got to buy the airfare. We’ll just say the word, and we’re home.” Simeon kept his voice low, projecting it just so she’d hear it, a sensual rumble that her highly-trained ears would detect—and her sometimes-self-righteous arse would tell him off for if she didn’t like the tone.

Emily’s shoulders dropped, and she turned off the vacuum and began to wind up the cord. “Yeah. We could. But... we might also be following leads pretty late into the night, and then there’s you with the poor grasp of time zones and the burning to death as soon as the sun is up... No. We should stay put. Plus, if I call out sick from work for a week and then they see me running around town like nothing’s wrong, they might fire me.”

“They might not see you?”

“Are you kidding? In this town? Someone from work will see me, and then they’ll tell the manager. They’ll think I just called off for the hell of it—oof. I mean, that I was just playing hooky.” Emily shook her head. We can find hotel rooms. Separate rooms.”

Simeon grinned. She wants to be around me. For a week. Or at least, bits of it.

That’s a start.

Simeon got into the silver Mustang and drove into the next block before thinking of a very specific blank spot of grass next to his apartment building. Sure, he could drive, but he figured he should practice putting the car through its magical paces. He landed beautifully without even a judder, as smooth as silk.

As he hurried into his building, worrying as the late October sky started to lighten, he paused to look at the exterior wall. You’d never know a car had crashed through it earlier.

Inside, Simeon stopped and cocked his head. The candy in his Halloween treat bowl was no longer scattered across the floor. The bowl was full—overflowing with all of his favorites. The small basement flat was not only immaculate, but repainted, de-cobwebbed, and the water stain on the ceiling was gone. The bare white walls had been stenciled with a graceful swirling pattern. On a whim, he walked over to the small kitchen and yanked open the cupboard and the fridge.

Bags of blood.

Cans of lager.

The cupboards were full of Scotch and snacks.

“Really startin’ to like that guy.” Simeon tossed shirts and jeans into a black leather rucksack that had been taped and resewn several times over the decades. It had a capacious central pocket and about twenty smaller ones on the side. When every pocket was full, Simeon shouldered the bag and hoped he wouldn’t have to start hating the heartbroken god as the bloke who put him in eternal lock up.

Once he was packed, he was able to grab a few fitful hours of sleep, but he woke up with a jolt right before sunset, a feeling of fearful anticipation and ready-to-fight-and-kill adrenaline soaring through his veins.

In moments, he was sliding into the silver car.

Simeon tossed his bag in the back and patted the steering wheel as he shut the door. He put the key in the ignition, engaged H-Mode, and braced his legs. “Pinecrest Avenue, Pony. Next stop, Idaho—but not y—wait, I—oh, bugger.”