“Thanks?”
He nodded, as if promising to let someone know you were going to kill them was the height of propriety. “Would you open the door so that we could speak in a more civilized manner?”
I holstered my gun and put my hand on the doorknob. The door hadn’t been locked during any of this exchange. He could have opened it any time he wanted to.
I opened the door. “What?”
“Good morning, Reed Daughter.”
I leaned in the doorway. “Good morning, Than. What’s up?”
“Although I have secured my business license, I have been informed that you will be among the persons of authority who must approve of my trade.”
It wasn’t usual for the chief of police to have a say in such things, but I’d found it was easier to head off the more disastrous career choices of new gods in town if I was in the loop from the beginning.
“Yes. I’ll have a say in okaying your business. What kind of business do you intend to go into?”
“Aerials.”
“Excuse me?”
“String and paper and wind.”
I waited for him to continue. He didn’t, instead just stood there looking at me expectantly.
“What are you going to do with string and paper and wind?”
He looked surprised that I hadn’t guessed yet. “Kites, Reed Daughter. I will sail kites.”
“Have you ever flown a kite?”
“No.”
“You understand you’ll have to make money from this. From selling kites. Pretty, bright, whimsical things for children and the young at heart.”
“Yes.”
“Do you really think a job in sales is playing to your strengths?”
“I thought the purpose of vacation was to relax. To be, for a time, not strong.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that a little. It was how the gods looked at it. Being a god meant a lot of responsibilities, a power constantly coursing through everything they did, everything they touched.
It could mean years and years of seeing that the one thing they had the power over was completely and thoroughly enacted.
For Death, I could see how getting a break from having to harvest souls might be seen as no longer being strong.
“Maybe,” I said. “Okay. Yes. I approve of you running a kite shop. Have you chosen the location?” I grabbed my coat off the chair where it had landed last night, then stepped outside, shrugging into it.
He moved primly to one side so that I could walk past him onto the porch. It didn’t matter that he was in a casual tropical shirt. He still moved like he was in a top hat and tails.
“I had expected to revive the current shop.”
“The Tailwind?” It was a broken-down A-frame shack on the southern end of town that had once been a thriving kite business before the casinos, internet, and whale-watching trips became the normal for Ordinary. “Have you spoken to Bill Downing?”
“The owner from California? Yes.”
“He agreed to sell it to you?”
