The drive to the particular Dunkin’ Donuts spot would’ve taken fifteen minutes tops on a good night. In the middle of a snowstorm, it took closer to thirty. The roads were icy even with the snow plows and salt trucks having gone over the downtown streets. The Dunkin’ Donuts on the corner was brightly lit, like a neon oasis in the storm. Patrick would’ve driven past it while looking for a parking garage, when Hermes pointed at the street in front of the business.
“Park over there,” he said.
“Government plates aren’t going to get me out of being towed in this weather,” Patrick warned.
“No one will see your ride.”
Whatever magic Hermes wanted to use on the SUV was fine by Patrick so long as he didn’t lose the vehicle to Chicago tow trucks. Knowing the god, it was a distinct possibility, but he had to risk it, so he parked where Hermes told him to.
Not many people were inside the Dunkin’ Donuts when they entered, but Hermes made a beeline for two women seated at a table by the window. The glass was fogged over a little from the inside heat, but not enough that one couldn’t see the snow blowing past outside.
“I brought him, now where are my hash browns?” Hermes asked.
Persephone gestured at the white bag sitting in front of an empty chair. “All yours.”
Patrick stayed where he was, heart pounding in his chest so hard it hurt to breathe as he stared at the Greek goddess and queen of the Underworld. He didn’t realize his phone was ringing until Persephone smiled slightly at him and popped a donut hole into her mouth.
“You should answer that,” she said.
Patrick blinked, the world reorienting around himself. He dug out his cell phone, pulling off his glove with his teeth so he could accept the call. Jono’s voice came through the speaker before Patrick even had the phone pressed to his ear.
“Are you all right? You bloody well gave me a heart attack just now,” Jono said.
Patrick realized the soulbond was a humming tie between them and most of the discomfort stemmed from his end. He took a moment to try to tamp it down, to shove it aside and ignore it.
“I’m fine,” Patrick replied.
“You don’tfeelfine, Pat.”
“Hermes is annoying. Don’t worry, he didn’t take us through the veil like Fenrir did for you.” At Jono’s startled silence, Patrick grimaced. “Yeah, forgot about that, didn’t you?”
“Pat—”
“Later. I don’t want to hear it right now.”
Patrick ended the call. He gripped his phone to stop himself from digging his nails into his palms. Persephone never looked away from his face, the faint curve of her mouth knowing in a way he didn’t like.
She was dressed in winter clothing, her gold-brown skin glowing healthily beneath the bright overhead lights. Her curly, dark brown hair was barely tamed beneath a beanie with a pom-pom. The freckles scattered over her nose and cheeks never seemed to change, no matter the months or years between their meetings.
“You’ve never met my mother,” Persephone said, nodding at the woman who sat opposite of her.
Patrick’s gaze snapped to the Greek goddess of harvest and so much more, mouth dry and at a loss for words. Demeter studied him with crystalline blue eyes, giving nothing away. Her straight white hair fell to her shoulders in a fashionable long bob, the faint wrinkles on her face barely aging her. Her winter clothes were more fashionable than Persephone’s, and the black fur coat draped over the back of her chair dragged on the floor.
His fingers itched with an electric burn that caused them to exude a pop of static electricity when he pulled back a chair to sit down. He shoved his phone into his jacket pocket, letting it go with some effort. Half a dozen donuts were left in a box that held twelve, but Patrick didn’t reach for one.
“So.” Patrick cleared his throat. “Why are you in Chicago?”
“Because this is where Macaria is,” Persephone said.
“Right.” Patrick glanced at Demeter. “Are you here for emotional support?”
Demeter reached for a blueberry donut, tearing it into bite-sized pieces. “I am here because of the spell which was cast that pulled power from the nexus.”
“It wasn’t a sacrificial one.”
“And yet, I hear Odin is missing.”
“He’s not dead yet.”
