Grim snorted like a bulldog but acquiesced, stepping forward to meet the postman. He quickly scribbled his signature on the electronic pad, eager to dismiss the interruption and return his focus to the unfolding drama at the fountains.
However, as soon as Grim's signature completed the transaction, the delivery man, with a practiced motion that suggested he'd done this more times than one would expect, swung the small package directly into Grim's face. The package burst open upon impact to reveal it was, in fact, a pillow—a very soft, very non-threatening pillow.
The exchange was so out of context, it left me blinking in confusion.
The crowd that had gathered, initially tense with the anticipation of conflict, erupted into a mixture of laughter and applause at the absurdity of the situation. Grim, momentarily stunned, touched his face where the pillow had made contact, then looked at the courier with a mix of disbelief and outrage.
Completely nonplussed and shrugging as if this was just another day on the job, the man muttered, “My job gets weirder every day,” before turning on his heel and walking away. He left Grim holding the pillow, a physical reminder of the unpredictability of his marriage.
“As if it isn’t enough, I’ve been nearly drowned today.” Grim shook his head as he turned his attention back to the fountain.
Determined not to get caught up in Grim and Vivien’s ludicrous war, or newfound love language, I turned back to the person making a far bigger scene.
“Xander isn’t doing anything godly that would draw suspicion,” I pointed out. “He just looks like some crazy guy having a mental breakdown.” Despite my dismissal, something inside me felt off kilter. As if my senses were telling me there was something very wrong that shouldn’t be laughed off here.
“Oh?” Timothy raised an eyebrow as he pursed his lips. “What if I were to tell you those fountains aren’t supposed to go off for another twenty minutes?”
I did a double take. “He’sdoing that?”
A jet exploded into the air like a geyser, far past what the Menaggio fountains were capable of. “Why don’t you go in and get him?”
Grim flapped his hands at his own body with wet slaps as if to show he had tried.
Timothy snorted. “Oh we tried.His majestyblasts anyone who comes within striking distance of the edge. I’m working on getting a special tranquilizer gun delivered for our friend here.”
“I’m going to lock his ass back up in the cage and put a collar on him this time,” Grim muttered, more to himself.
I licked my lips, my heart pounding against my ribs, knowing what I was about to do. Slipping off my coat, I walked toward the edge of the fountain.
“Miranda, what are you doing?” Timothy called out in a panic.
I set my coat over the lip of the pool and shot back, “This is what you called me for. He won’t hurt me.” Throwing first one leg over, then the other, I dropped into the chest-high water.
“You don’t know that,” Timothy countered.
He won’t.
“Miranda, think this through,” Grim shouted after me.
Ignoring Timothy's and Grim's attempts to intervene, I knew it was up to me to reach Xander. As bizarre as the pillow attack was, it reminded me that sometimes the unexpected could break through the chaos. Maybe, just maybe, I could be Xander's unexpected moment of clarity.
Meanwhile, on the other side, more hotel security attempted to get into the fountain to pull the crazy naked man out. A strange cackling laugh, halfway to a hysterical hyena came out of Xander as he slammed his hands on the water. Shoots of water plowed through the men, hurling them back twenty feet until they crashed into the crowd of people watching. Screams and cries filled the air, but it was all background noise as I made my way toward Xander and keyed in on his strange chatter.
“It’s no good, it’s no good captain. This isn’t your boat. You have no ship. You are lost at sea.”
The strange cadence of his words reminded me of when he’d been in the cage, trapped and driven mad by his own power.My brows furrowed as something tightened in my chest. The madness he’s exhibited should have been long gone after his rebirth from the blade.
The god turned as if sensing my approach. The crowd sucked in a collective gasp as if expecting him to blow me away next.
“Xander,” I called out, wading my way slowly but surely toward him.
Turquoise eyes had turned stormy and unfocused, and for a moment he didn’t recognize me. Xander’s mouth moved as if he were still talking to himself in a jumble of nonsense.
My skin prickled with the realization Timothy could be right and Xander might view me as an enemy.
“What did I tell you about a shirt and shoes?” I called out in a taunt, hoping to snap him out of it. “And now you can’t even be bothered with pants?”
Xander’s eyes narrowed as he focused on me with all the attention of a predator, assessing if another being was adversary or prey. I stood my ground, unafraid.
