“That’s it?” I asked dubiously.
He spread his hands out by way of waving the white flag. “That’s it.”
My gaze narrowed. “This isn’t some kind of trick, is it?”
“If you want more ground rules,” Paul drawled, “all you have to do is ask.”
Oops.I shook my head, saying quickly, “Err, no, actually, that one ground rule is perfect.”
He smirked. “I thought you’d say that.” He glanced at my teacup. “Do you want another?”
“I’m okay—-” My gaze drifted absently to my watch.Nine-thirty.I hadn’t had dinner yet and –oh.
“I forgot to tell you about what I discovered at The Voice Factor,” I gasped, and Paul listened attentively as I told him what I learned.
“That’s good work.” Paul’s voice had turned vague, and I could see that his mind was already on what next steps to take. “We’ll need tech support...”
I grabbed my phone. “On it.”
“Tell them this isCode P.”
I hesitated. “You’re sure?” P stood for Pandora, and Code P meant the situation had hit rock bottom, the equivalent of Pandora’s box unleashing an unholy horror on mankind. Among other things, it granted tech support permission to hack even into government-owned systems, something we tried our best to avoid because it risked exposure for non-humans if we were caught.
“We have no choice. I received word earlier from Olympus. The only reason we have a lull in the storm right now is because Hermes was able to use one of Hypnos’ sleeping spells to knock the thunder god out.”
“Doesn’t he have to be physically close to Zeus to make that kind of spell work?”
Paul nodded curtly. “He didn’t need to get inside the battle tower, but he did have to get close enough that it cost him a torn wing.”
“Poor Hermes.” The fleet-footed god may be an Olympian himself, but none of those things saved him from feeling pain the way we all did.
“He’ll live,” Paul said gruffly.
I supposed he would, and that even with his injured wing, Hermes still had better chances of surviving the coming storm. “How long do you think the spell would last?”
“How soon before Zeus wakes up?”
“No one really knows, but when he wakes up—-” Paul’s voice turned harsh. “He’ll be fit to destroy the world.”
A PAIR OF GENTLEMENshowed up on my doorstep at exactly eight in the morning, both of them dressed in –naturally –dark suits. They gave me polite, friendly smiles as they introduced themselves (Troy with the blue eyes, and Philip with the days-old stubble), and told me I had only to ask if I needed anything.
“Do you know where Paul is or what he’s working on right now?”
The men exchanged looks. “Well, anything except that,” Troy amended.
Mary Lou was agog with curiosity and didn’t waste time asking questions as soon as I got past the double doors. “That wasn’t the INTERPOL detective, was it?”
“Err, no.”
The nymph rolled her eyes when I couldn’t be more forthcoming. “Come on, Blair,” she wheedled. “At least tell me who they are?”
“They’re also from INTERPOL?”
“And?”
“And I gotta go, I have a meeting with Dike.” Or so I did, but all I really wanted was to escape before Mary Lou pried out more information from me.
Our division director called for Lana and Agent Gries as soon as I entered her office, and at her cue, I provided them with the latest update. “Detective Paul emailed me early this morning. He says INTERPOL’s convinced Dion that it’s in his interest to work with them, but it will still take time. Dion doesn’t keep records on non-human employees so tech support has to comb through all the surveillance footage in hopes of finding a match.”
