Chapter One
If I,Delaney Reed, ever found a genie in a lamp, I knew exactly how I’d spend my three wishes.
Wish one: for the jerk god who’d tricked my fiancé, Ryder, into worshiping him to drop dead. Wish two: for my wedding to finally, finally be over. Wish three: for a nice, quiet evening on the beach with Ryder, sharing a blanket, the sunset, and a beer.
But instead of three wishes, what did I get this fine Tuesday morning? Two knuckle-headed gods fighting in the middle of the road.
“Go over it again.” I pushed at Crow, who was the god Raven. His long black hair was pulled back in a single braid, and he wore a T-shirt advertising his glass blowing studiothe nest. He stood his ground and glared daggers—no make that swords—at Odin, who was the god Odin.
“He’s an ass.” Crow tried to side-step past me. I moved into his space, body checking him and shoving a hand on his chest again. He took a quick backward step.
“He started it,” Crow said, stabbing his finger toward Odin. “But I am more than fucking happy to fucking end it.”
Behind me, Ryder warned Odin to stand there or get ready to explain things while cuffed and cooling his heels in jail.
The seagulls called out overhead, hoping someone had brought french fries to the fight.
We hadn’t gathered a crowd yet, mostly because it was Tuesday, and the two gods had decided to duke it out on a side street.
Also, now that summer had faded into early autumn, the crowds of nosy tourists had drifted away from Ordinary, back to their work-a-day lives. We’d still have tourists—the ocean and our local Valkyrie, Bertie’s, constant community events, festivals, and contests would make sure of that. But I, for one, was looking forward to a little quiet around here.
“Settle down, Crow.” I gave him another push just to make sure he was listening.
His brown gaze flicked to mine, and there was amber fire there. “Stay out of this, Delaney.”
“No,” I said mildly, “I don’t think I will. Do you want to tell me why you two are going at it like kids in a schoolyard?”
“No.”
Odin was telling Ryder much the same. Just a short, blunt denial.
“Are you going to start fighting as soon as you’re out of my sight?”
That stubborn set of his jaw told me all I needed to know.
“Ground rules, then.” I stepped back. “Keep the conflict resolution reasonable. That means words, not fists. And if you absolutely must fight, no property destruction, no hospital stays for you or others. Got it?”
Crow’s smile was hard and flat. “Sure, Delaney. No property damage.” He shifted his glare over my shoulder to Odin.
Odin’s gray hair was wild around his head, his beard cut shorter than usual, his plaid shirt dusty and smelling of cedar.
The eye patch he wore today was forest green and set off the light in his one clear blue eye. He looked scruffy, temperamental, and every inch the chainsaw artist he was.
“I have better things to do than come back here and drag you to jail, Crow,” I warned. “For cripes sake, can’t you just drop whatever this is?”
He looked away from Odin and focused on me, really focused on me as my almost-uncle instead of as an angry god. His smile this time was kinder, less mocking. “I won’t guarantee I won’t hit him again.”
“Crow.”
“But I can promise he won’t end up in the hospital.” He shrugged. “For long.”
He was still annoyed: the clench of his jaw, the sharper line of cheekbone, the square of his shoulders. There was war in him, but it was, at the moment, tempered.
“You want my advice?” I asked.
“No.”
“Let it go. Whatever is between you, set it down. You’re supposed to be living a quiet, relaxing life here, remember? You can fight with the other gods when you leave. Kiss and make up.”
