“Myra.” I didn’t even have to ask. I knew it would have to be her. And oddly, I knew she might be the only one who Bathin would listen to. But his deals never came without a price. If she had done something stupid, I was going to get out of this bed and kick her butt.
“Now. It is time for me to leave this quiet shore.” Thanatos patted my hand, more like a fond uncle than the embodiment of death.
“It’s only a year. That’s the rule. Any god who picks up his power only has to be gone for a year.”
“Yes?” There was curiosity in his tone.
“Please don’t stay away,” I blurted.
And then, right there in front of me, with Ryder as a witness, Death smiled.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Reed Daughter. I still have so many kites to fly.” And with that, he turned and walked toward the door, straight and lean, head held high as he faded into smoke and gray and was gone.
I exhaled, and it came out on a shaky laugh. Ryder squeezed my hand and I realized he’d been holding onto my hand this whole time. I squeezed back, and watched the door, wondering if this was really over now. If this had all been about gods and ends, or if there was still a beginning for us, for Ordinary.
A beginning that didn’t involve any more death, blood, or murder.
The door opened and Myra and Jean strolled in, followed by Shoe, Hatter, and to my surprise, Hogan, but not Bathin.
“Hope you ordered orange juice,” Myra said. “This might take a while.”
Chapter 21
She was not joking. Myra and Jean settled in for the long haul, bringing in comfortable chairs, tall cups of coffee and a tray of fruit for finger food.
Hatter and Shoe had stayed for just a few minutes. Gave me a hard time about how I’d obviously missed the class for how not to get shot by a gun twice in one year, and then they’d left to keep the streets of Ordinary safe for the tourists, creatures, and residents.
Not gods though. Because there were no more gods in Ordinary.
That was weird.
The demon hadn’t shown up yet either. I’d expected he’d want to be here to see me get lectured by my sisters, but apparently he had other demon-y things to do. Or maybe he was gone for good.
Since he still had my soul, I wasn’t sure if that would be better or worse.
Probably worse, knowing my luck.
Also, I planned to get my soul back. There was no way I was going to let him keep it a moment longer than necessary.
“Are you still listening to me?”
Myra had been going on about how many businesses had just been abandoned by their owners, and how many residences were now standing empty. It was a logistical problem we’d never had to address before: a mass exodus of so many gods and goddesses. It was going to be a huge pain on a practical level for security, ownership, upkeep and day-to-day routines.
All of the deities had been hands-on with their interests and hadn’t left a lot of staff behind to deal with it all.
It wasn’t really a problem if Odin wasn’t around to make more terrible chainsaw art, and we could drive by his cabin once a week to make sure no one had broken in, but there were gods who ran much more vital businesses. Hades’ popular bed and breakfast, Athena’s surfing shop and lessons, Aaron’s yard and garden nursery, Zeus’s fashion boutique.
“I’m still listening,” I said. “And I agree with the plan so far. We let the lead workers at each business step up into managerial positions, make sure they’re compensated for it…that’s in the gods-own-business rules somewhere isn’t it?” I glanced at Ryder.
He looked up to the left, as if running through a card catalogue in his head.
“Yep. There’s a pool of money set aside for this contingency. All of the deities have been contributing to it over the years. We’ll need to find out how to access…oh, the Reeds are executors. So.” He shrugged. “We’re good to go.”
Okay, so it was getting to be pretty nice to have contract man as my boyfriend.
“We’ll check in on their residences, but otherwise keep them as is until they return,” I said. “Let’s say twenty-four months. We’ll hire a service to air them out once a month.”
“All right.” Myra lifted her cup to take a drink, found it empty and stood to toss it into the little trash basket in the corner. She stretched, her hands pressed against her lower back before sitting back down.
