Chapter Eleven

Emily tossed two suitcases in the back. One clinked.

“Holy water?” Simeon asked.

“Holy water.” She buckled in, braced her feet, and gripped the door frame. “Okay. Drive. Or... fly? Whatever.”

“The suspension on this thing is amazing. I took a thirty-second jaunt to Boise earlier. Van Helsing, put your arms down, I have the H-Drive off.”

“Oh, thank God. And speaking of gods—what the hell are we doing?” She was from a line of feared vampire hunters. Shouldn’t she have planned this better? But no, all she had done was clean the house, pack, and worry about what she was leaving behind, not what she might run into whenever they got where they were going. “Do you have a plan? How do we fight gods? How do we—”

“I dialed 9 for Hades’ direct line.” Simeon flipped the phone out of his pocket and showed her the innocent-looking black phone. “If we find her, we dial 999. Which is funny, ‘cause that’s the number of the emergency services in Britain. I—”

“Simeon.” How could he joke? How could he almost always find time to smile, to make her smile? Why was the car making him seem way too close, his hair smell way too good, and his skin look way too touchable? Emily would have blamed Hades and said he had put some chick-magnet charm on this thing, but... no. For a thousand years, he had not given up on finding his one true love.

One true loves. They don’t... let you go. They don’t give up on you. They don’t move on.

Which means... if Simeon were really in love with you—he wouldn’t give up on you. He’d keep trying to be a person you can love.

He’d do things like keep being your friend, even if you told him you could never be anything more. Even if you told him you couldn’t even be that.

But he’s still here. Not just when he needs you, but when you need him.

Like he loves you.

Why did that thought s mack into her middle so heavily?

“Sorry, not takin’ it lightly, love. So, 999 is first, then we dial 222 and 333. That brings Hades, Zag, and Milly to us. They can handle the fighting. This is an easier mission than I thought.”

Emily’s jaw dropped. “Why? Why would you say that? Easy mission? Now we’re going to have to fight our way out of a demon prison or something!”

“I meant there might not be a lot of punch-ups. But hard! Yes! Hard. So hard. Incredibly hard. And long. Long-lasting and hard. A week of long, hard nights.”

Emily’s jaw closed, slowly. Simeon stopped talking.

That conversation had ended up in a very different location than she’d intended.

“I think the AC in this thing is busted.” Simeon squinted at the dash and started tapping buttons.

“Stop poking things before you blow us to Mars or something,” Emily hissed, but privately, she agreed. Hades’ car must be charmed to teleport, shrink, and make everything super hot. Why else would she suddenly feel the need to strip down and hop in an icy shower? “You’re room temperature,” she accused as Simeon struggled out of his long black coat and tossed it in the backseat.

“Still hot.”

Emily bit her lip and looked out the window. Yes. Still hot. Simeon Crow, scum of the earth, was hot in his muscle-hugging black t-shirt and generous mane of chin-length brown-black waves. Very, very hot, and now she could see more of him, and she had a week off where no one would be watching her to make sure she lived up to the Van Helsing name.

This week, it would be the two of them, alone together with no audience. Simeon and her, on the hunt, on the prowl, working nights and then hiding from the sun by day with long days to fill. They would have to stay inside somewhere. In a room together, maybe. Because of... security. Strategizing. And needing to keep an eye on him to make sure he behaved himself. And because only Simeon had the magic emergency god-calling phone, and the one credit card, and one bed, and oh no. Where was that coming from?

That thought about missing out on what could have been and the thought of lovers spending a thousand years apart, and the thought of Simeon, trapped for an eternity, paying for someone else’s mistake?

I could lose him.

Her hands flexed on her knees as the unwelcome truth landed a knockout blow.

I don’t want that. If he leaves, if he goes where I can’t save him, can’t even see him again—he’ll never know how much I’ve come to—

“So, as for a plan, we strictly locate and don’t get killed,” Simeon concluded.

“Wait. Wait, didn’t you bite anyone else? Simeon! You’re not the youngest spawn of Lilith, are you? You must’ve turned someone at some point in a century and a half!”

Simeon gave her a wary look and slid the keys out of the ignition. “I don’t like... I don’t turn things. You need time and energy to be a sire, and I was too busy enjoying my new power, Van Helsing. I had people to kill, not lives to remake. That’s the end of it.” Simeon looked ahead, features grim and set.

“Well... what about Lilith’s other victims?”

“Hades says that the Van Helsing line wiped out the rest of her offspring. Look, Huntress, if Hades, the big head honcho in charge of life, death, and demons tells you that his records indicate you’re the man for the job—you’re the man for the job.”

“Oh. Right. That’s incontrovertible evidence, huh?”

“I guess. Why? It wouldn’t matter who had to do the job, I’d have to help if I wanted to say I did everything I could.” He looked out across the town with a heavy sigh. “All of us do or die on this one.”

Emily nodded, looking at him. No, really looking at him. “And you want to say that?”

“What?”

“That you did everything you could.”

Simeon was giving her a look now, eyes penetrating hers.

Oh, why, why did penetrating suddenly sound dirty, too? The look wasn’t a flattering, admiring glance, it was stripping through layers of the front she tried to keep up around everyone. Damn Simeon. No, no, don’t.

Keep him back.

Save him.

Everyone close to me gets hurt. Or worse.

“Em, are you feelin’ all right? Maybe you should sit out this leg of the journey. It won’t be any bother to swing back and pick you up.”

“No. No, I’m fine. I’m fine, really fine.” Emily nodded and rubbed her temples. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep. I know we have a big deadline, but Hades didn’t make you fireproof did he?”

“Wasn’t in the mission briefing,” Simeon snarked, cracking a smile.

“Then tomorrow we’ll find a hotel and get some sleep. Sleep. Solid, restful sleep.” In one room? Or not. Maybe. Argh. Bad brain. “So, let’s go interview Demeter in the land of the Great Potato. Do you have an address?”

“Not precisely, but I think this car is pretty smart. Still, better have a practice while it’s disengaged. Take me to—”

“Wait!” Emily slapped a hand across his mouth and tried to ignore the way her body reacted to the feel of his lips against her fingers. “What are we going to ask? She’s missing her daughter. She’s a god. All these gods could probably kill us by blinking.”

“Yeah, but I doubt she will. She wants Seph back, too.” Simeon looked at the phone resting on the dashboard. “Nine is Hades. Two and three are Milly and Zag. I bet Seph is one. That’s funny, init, Huntress? The little human customs he’s picked up.”

That was a sweet thought, but totally untrue. Unrealistic. That’s why she needed to get any other unrealistic thoughts out of her brain. Simeon was an impractical romantic.

Who had used his unlimited spending card to pay her rent. Who came over weekly, even without a sudden influx of wealth, just to check on her and never came without some little peace offering.

Or were they tokens of affection?

Affection was different than love, not that she’d ever had much of either.

Her temples throbbed in accompaniment to her sigh of, “Simeon... She's been missing for a thousand years. She doesn’t have a phone. Hades doesn’t have a way to—”

The vampire cut her off in a low, firm voice. “ One is for Seph. It’s saved for her. You get that?” Simeon’s voice grated against her skin, scraping some hidden part of her; scraped it, and then made it pulse too fast. When his voice rasped like that, it sounded like it had when he was breathless. It was confusing. Emily had seen him breathless too many times, all the time, really, because vamps don’t have to breathe. But it was that exhausted, injured tone from when he let her land punch after punch the first time they’d trained together after her accident. The tone he used when she couldn’t stop hitting and couldn’t stop shaking—and he finally caught her hands in his own and told her she was still every inch a demon hunter, no matter how her body betrayed her.

Or the breathless tone that existed after their heated kiss...

Don’t think about it. Don’t talk about it. Just agree.

“Whatever you say, Simeon.”

“Hades believes in her. He believes that after a thousand years, Seph’s going to come back, and they can get past whatever happened. He believes there’s a reason his wife is missing, that she will come home, and that she’ll still deserve that top spot. So, my plan is that we go to her mum’s farm in Idaho, and we ask what happened the day she disappeared, who was there, any godly interference or spats we don’t know about, and we try to search the place. Good?”

“Good.” Emily nodded, stunned by the impassioned anger and yeah, the leadership skills on display.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that? Like you’ve never seen me before?” Simeon grunted in an irritated voice, hands gripping the wheel as if he could drive by touch.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Emily countered, crossing her arms. “Simeon? Did Idaho even exist a thousand years ago? I mean... her house. As it is now?”

“Bugger. That’s a good point!” Simeon reached down and started fiddling with the knobs. “Don’t worry, just the air conditioning.”

Emily tensed. “Be careful. I don’t like when you diddle around like that.”

“Oh, trust me. You’d absolutely love it if I diddled around like this,” Simeon snickered, low and smokey.

Emily’s cheeks flooded with heat, and she smacked the vampire’s arm. “Don’t be gross. Be careful. I don’t want someone suddenly saying, ‘Oh, I wish we could go land outside of Demeter’s house in Idaho and—”

Emily never finished her sentence. The car shimmied and shot forward. “Simeon!”

“You hit my arm!”

“Well, in a minute I’m going to hit the rest of you!”

Van Helsing was busy taking deep breaths of the sweet, October air, head hanging out the window while she gulped her stomach back to order.

He sat in the seat, head back, and knees like jelly. “All right, Emily?”

“I hate this car. We’re driving if we have to go anywhere in town.” The notorious vampire hunter stumbled out of the car completely and hugged herself, hands patting against her body as if to make sure all of her limbs were still attached. “Where are we?”

Simeon eased out of the car and put the key fob in his pocket, making sure not to tap the horn button. He jerked his thumb at the white and orange mailbox sitting next to their car, marking a long, winding driveway. “Demeter Organics.”

“Hades? Is that you? Zag? Milly? Which one of you came joy-riding in Daddy’s car to see your old nana?”

Simeon blinked. Old nana his lily white ass.

Demeter seemed to be about thirty, maybe closer to forty, but as any man will tell you, even a dead one, there’s a beautiful ripeness to a woman at that age. She knows her body, knows how to move it, what colors to wear, what words to use...

Farming and sensuality would now be twined forever in his mind. Simeon didn’t know what would happen in his trousers the next time he saw the produce section at the grocery store.

Emily elbowed him. “You’re staring.”

“She’s a goddess. I’m supposed to.” Simeon bent his head to mutter in her ear and received a hmph and another elbow, this one sharper and maybe fueled by jealousy. At least, he’d pretend.

Demeter paused as she got close to them, eyes narrowing. Seemingly from out of nowhere, the goddess pulled a short, hand-held sickle. “Demons? On my property? What sort of prank is this?”

“Um. No prank, your glorious goddess-ness. I’m—uh—Simeon. I’m a vampire, true, but I’m on a mission from your son-in-law—”

“Or brother,” Emily helpfully chimed in—right before a look of worry crossed her face.

Simeon rolled his eyes. The girl had endless skill with a stake—not so much with her mouth.

No, don’t think about her mouth.

Her words. She’s clumsy with words—but maybe she never got to talk much. Remind you of anyone else, Crow? The boy who always kept his horrible voice hidden until he perfected a rasping whisper that didn’t offend everyone’s ears but everyone still talked over anyway?

The goddess looked between them. “Mission?” The sickle shrank and slid back into Demeter’s pocket.

“I want a stake that does that,” Emily whispered enviously, a hungry expression on her face.

“We... Well, there’s no easy way to say it, but we’re looking for Persephone.”

Demeter, who had glorious gold-red tresses that fell in long waves, plump, smooth, peach cheeks, and a body that made every man suddenly eager to plow a certain furrow— changed. Her hair streaked with gray, her cheeks hollowed and sagged, and her whole body seemed to wither. “My daughter? My little girl?”

It was an instinct. Simeon rushed forward and put his arm around the quivering lady. “I’m sorry, ducks. No kind way to spring it on you. We know it’s been a long time, but we’re not givin’ up. May I present Emily Van Helsing? Tracking immortals is in her blood.”

“And this is Simeon Crow. He’s....” Emily looked at him and seemed to struggle for positive attributes. She finally went with, “He’s raised stubbornness to an art form.” Emily took the older lady’s free arm.

“She’s alive. I can feel that she’s alive, moving among mortals. I knew when she was in the Underworld, you know? I felt her separation from me, but I knew she was alive.” The voice warbled with distress.

“You were very close.” Emily nodded as they shuffled up the gravel path. “That’s why we came to you. You must know, if anyone knows, what happened while she was visiting you. Wasn’t that it? She came to see you around harvest, but then she left?”

“She always spends half the year with Hades.” Demeter peered at them with keen eyes, still bright despite the shadows around them. “More than that. Once she had the children, I didn’t mind her coming and going as she pleased. She would pop in and see me in the winter, too. Did you ever have a day like spring in January? My baby popped in for a visit.”

“Do you remember that day? The day she left? It was a thousand years ago, so that’s—”

Simeon found himself cut off by Demeter’s sharp gasp. “What? No!”

“Have you seen her more recently?” Emily asked as they came to the end of the long path. The goddess shook her head and led them onto the tidy porch of her sprawling farmhouse.

“I just can’t believe... A thousand years? In the mortal world, that’s a very long time. It is less to me, but... oh, my daughter. Where could she be?”

Emily exchanged a glance with him as Demeter pushed ahead and opened a door.

“Um.” Simeon chuckled nervously. “We don’t want to intrude. We can talk on the porch.”

“Nonsense. Come in.”

Emily shrugged, swallowed, and put her hand on her hip.

Simeon knew from personal experience that there was always a weapon on her somewhere. Well. I can take a swing if this turns out to be a trap. A god would have to put a bit of work in to end a vamp. That would give Em time to get to the car. Not that she’d leave a fight...

They walked into the house, which had a pleasant cinnamon and sunflower smell. Every inch of the place was covered in plants.

“We blend into the modern world, you know. But our realms move with us. This has been my home, in many forms and places. I’ve lived in Provence, in the English countryside, on the first farms in the American colonies... But a thousand years ago, I was in Athens. It was right before we moved, but as you can see, Eleusis came with me.”

Simeon followed Demeter’s sweeping arm, looking out the large bay windows on the backside of the farmhouse, almost choking on the gasp bursting from him. Next to him, Emily dug her fingers into his arm, faltering in her tracks.

In the middle of long fields that stretched to the horizon, dotted with the remnants of corn stalks and squash vines, was a massive Greek grotto. Stone steps and arches disappeared into the hillside, while slabs and columns of marble created endless altars and rings. “Wow. That’s quite the garden you’ve got. Love the statuary,” Simeon muttered. His nose twitched. Even through the glass, his senses tingled. Something happened in that place, something magical and sacred, something that made his demon twitch and want to tap into the supernatural feast outside.

“This is the site of the Eleusinian Mysteries. The original, not those ruins I left behind in Athens.”

“The original. So—is this where Persephone was? That day?” Emily crept around him, voice hushed, hand outstretched.

Simeon could understand her hushed tones and the look of wonder in her eyes. There was something about the place that seemed eerie and beautiful at once, something that made you feel connected to deeper, bigger things—and afraid, because maybe you, a little speck of a mortal (or near enough) shouldn’t be privy to such secrets.

“Tea?”

Simeon turned from the window, or rather, from watching the breathtaking sight of the girl in front of it. There’s my own mystery. That beautiful girl who faced death and dishes it out—but somehow only sips at the well and never swallows. Won’t die, but keeps peeking through the veil. Hades’ most difficult guest, I suppose. Just pokes her head in and laughs at death, then leaves.

“I’m afraid I don’t have blood, demon.”

Simeon whipped his head around. “Sorry. Admiring the view! Tea would be—fine.”

Demeter was back to her youthful beauty once again. He was never going to get used to that. But there was something else different about her. Something different about her voice and her face. They looked... almost vacant.

“Okay, Huntress.” Simeon sidled up to Emily while Demeter went puttering through the house, out to the kitchen. “Did you see that?”

“Yes! I’m beginning to wonder if all those women in the wrinkle cream before-and-after pictures are actually just bored goddesses.”

“Not that.” Simeon didn’t know what sort of hearing goddesses had, but he assumed it was exceptional. He moved his lips close to Emily’s ear, close enough to taste her skin with just the very outermost edge of his bottom lip. “Seems like she’s not all there. Sudden-like.”

Emily didn’t pull away. She leaned into him, chin tilting up to whisper in his ear. “It’s gotta be hard to talk about. Losing your child...”

“But—”

“Sugar? Lemon? Milk?” Demeter called from the kitchen. They followed her voice and found themselves in a cross between a medieval cottage and Martha Stewart’s home show. Appliances gleamed silver and white under exposed wooden rafters that were sagging under the weight of drying herbs and plants.

“Wow. Someone likes to make their own potpourri.” Emily smiled and took an empty seat at a polished wooden table.

“Locally, I’m known as something of a ‘hippie’ and a healer. I make a lot of tinctures and sell them at the farmers’ market. Ooh, and herbs in olive oil and honey. Would you like a jar?”

“That’d be swell.” Simeon nodded, trying to keep the frown off his face. Olive oil and honey? How could you think of your merchandise when your only beloved child was missing? “Uh, not to bring up your worry, but, back to Persephone. Hades said back then you lot were in Athens, so that rock garden out there—”

“He’s a wonderful man. You know, some people thought it wouldn’t work. The age-gap. He’s a few centuries older than her.”

“Tell me about it.” Emily smirked into her teacup, her eyes briefly darting to him. Simeon kicked her ankle under the table. “Uh, I mean, he seems great. Not that I’ve met him, but I met Milly. Mega-sweetheart. Was she... was she there that day?”

Demeter looked up from her steaming mug, young, glowing face suddenly blank. “Milly? What day?”

“The day Persephone disappeared. Who was here?”

A spasm of pain crossed her face, and words seemed to struggle out of her full lips. “The acolytes had left. The children were gone already. Hades took them home. He always made sure Seph and I had a few days together without interruption, right before she left. I would... I would have been coming to see them anyway. Their anniversary party. They always had a festival. Offerings of milk and wine made to the dead—so, of course, down in the Underworld, there was such feasting and revels. Even up in the mortal world, the veil thins...” Demeter put her cup down and stared through the steam rising from it, eyes luminous and staring at something far away.

It seemed to Simeon that an icy wind whipped through the house, and fine lines of gray began to appear in Demeter’s hair again. “So, it was just the two of you?”

She blinked, and the light left her eyes. They clouded. “N...No. No, he came to visit. Suddenly. I didn’t know he was coming, but then again, no one ever does. You can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want. I’ve asked him over and over to just leave us alone...”

Hail pelted against the window, and the wind shrieked.

“Who?” Emily demanded.

Demeter’s lips trembled. “Zeus.”