As soon as Crow had walked back into the room, Odin had shut down. That warmth—no, heat—that had been in his gaze, in his words, was once again stowed behind the man I’d known for so many years.
A grumpy, accident-prone chainsaw artist.
The quick change must mean he didn’t want to talk in front of Crow.
Or he was just as baffled by the hat as I was.
Choose sides. Between the gods? Or was Odin just angry at Crow for losing his power and trying to make me turn against a man I considered my uncle?
“Everything okay?” Crow asked looking between us. “Delaney?”
“What is on your head?”
“My hair.”
“Over that.”
“My beanie.”
Really?
“Why are you wearing an umbrella hat on your head?”
“Where else should I wear a hat? Really, Delaney, you’re ridiculous.”
Odinhrumphedand headed toward the door. “I’ve wasted enough of my time today on you, Crow. If Delaney weren’t here I’d show you just how much I’ve enjoyed wasting my time on someone who couldn’t do one simple job right.”
Crow licked his lips and glanced at me for reassurance. I’d never seen him so nervous around another god before. No, strike that. I’d never seen him nervous around anyone before.
Either he was afraid of Odin, or he was playing me so I would take his side.
Okay, that kind of double-guessing everything was going to have to stop right now. I was not paranoid. I refused to become paranoid. Unless maybe I should be paranoid.
“Let’s go, bumbershoot head.” I waved at the door, telling them both to walk out in front of me so I could keep an eye on them.
Okay, maybe I was a little paranoid.
Crow stared at Odin’s retreating form, then trudged along after him, waiting at the door for me to walk through so he could set the alarm and locks. He patted the doorframe gently, like he was saying good-bye to an old friend.
Well, he wasn’t saying good-bye yet, but he would be. Losing the powers meant not only putting himself in jeopardy with the other gods, it meant putting the rules of Ordinary in jeopardy.
When the rules were broken, I was the one who had to answer for it. And I would.
As soon as we found his powers.
I gave him his moment at the door and dashed over to the Jeep.
I opened the Jeep and slid in, Odin taking the passenger side. He didn’t buckle the seat belt or look at me. He just scowled at the rain, lost in his own thoughts.
“Just so you know,” I said, as rain rattled against the metal roof and Crow jogged across the parking lot toward us, the umbrella hat a bright crazy blob in the gray light, “I appreciate what you said in there. I’ll be careful.”
“And will you call on me?” He still didn’t look my way, didn’t take his gaze off the gray and wet.
“Yes,” I said, not knowing exactly what I was agreeing to. I wasn’t close to Odin, not in a familial way, but the man here in my Jeep was steady, serious, and seemed to know things I wanted to understand.
“We need to talk. About Dad.”
Odin grunted, but the line of his massive shoulders relax minutely.
