Chapter Five
Merck powered his boat a few miles offshore until the boat’s tossing on the angry waves reached capsizing-risk critical. He cut the engine and swallowed against nausea, but not from motion sickness. His insides had been as choppy as the ocean ever since he’d driven away from Shannon a few hours ago. The wrongness of not helping her, of not finding out why exactly the warlock had tried to kidnap her, ate at him. Regardless of how ignoring his attraction to her drove him nuts, she was in trouble.
He was no one’s knight in shining armor. She had her own people who didn’t want him around, especially her father, who hated his guts. The moment her father found out where she’d been last night there’d be an angry druid on his front steps with a shotgun and no questions asked before blowing a hole in his chest.
Far off, the sky loomed with gray clouds. Details of the horizon were hazy where the rain had already started. Wind plastered the windbreaker against his body, carrying the smell of approaching rain. Two pelicans clung tight to a rocking buoy a few hundred yards away.
He leaned over the side of the boat to dip his hand into the choppy water. Instantly, information on the chaos below the churning surface swamped his mind. Animals were confused and panicking. Environmental conditions were unstable—fluctuating temperatures, salinity off, and algal blooms along the coastline. Energy from deep within him revved, demanding freedom to fix the chaos. On an exhale he released the surging power. Everything for miles around became stabilized. Even though still windy and choppy at the surface, the stability below relaxed him. He might’ve inherited some water abilities from his water-god father, but he couldn’t control the weather.
The animals in the ocean’s depths had been his companions through the toughest moments of his childhood—a selfish and sometimes abusive mother, an absent father, drug addiction, and his tendency for fights. The water healed his wounds, and the animals soothed his emotions. He’d do anything he could for them.
He’d have to return tomorrow, if he expected his stabilizing session to hold. Healing the whole ocean wasn’t possible. Just little patches. Why were things out here and on land so out of whack?
The darkening skies gave the illusion of an early dusk.
As he returned to the wheel he heard clapping.
He whipped around, reaching for the knife on his belt.
A familiar ichthyocentaur reclined on one of the boat’s white benches. The creature had shed his part-merman, part-horse form to appear human, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and white silky pants. The shimmer in his purple eyes hinted at the masked inner god, but the outdated long dark hair and beard gave away his ancient-Greek origins.
Merck yelled to cast his voice through the wind. “Bythos. Why’re you on my boat?”
Merck tensed for an attack. Most times he saw this creature, it was coming at him with a big-ass sword in the name of “training.” A demand the mythological water creature take a flying leap back into the watery depths, back to Poseidon’s side as his right-hand man, might end up with them in a knife fight again. Given he had a six-inch blade and Bythos usually swung a huge sword, odds weren’t in his favor to win the matchup. Although Bythos looked unarmed today.
Bythos placed a dramatic hand over his heart. “Why the hate?”
“Maybe because the last two times you visited me, you tried to kill me?”
“Not true.”
“Attacking with intent to cut off my head qualifies as intent to kill.”
“I needed to ensure you knew how to defend yourself. You’re still alive, aren’t you? Had I wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be conversing. I don’t need to kill you. Your stubbornness will do the job for me.”
“What did Dad feel was so important that he’d send you above water?”
“You need a reminder of your impending judgment.”
Four days. “As if I could forget.”
“You’re doing all right at your on-land…” Bythos glanced around as if searching for the right word, “purpose. Now you must be judged if you are worthy of an ocean purpose.”
“I didn’t ask for this. Any of this.” An ocean job too? Shit. Maybe death as the outcome of the gods’ judgment was preferable. He could barely manage to take care of everything required of him as the Enforcer. In the hundreds of times he’d been reincarnated as the Enforcer this was the first lifetime he’d also been a first-generation Greek god’s child.
“None of us request our fate. We learn to live up to it.”
Merck folded his arms. “My life’s about to be decided upon by a bunch of power-tripping gods on a whim.”
Bythos showed no ounce of humor. “Do you not remember what I advised on how to improve your judgment?”
“Strike the path to become pure of heart. By the time you tossed that ambiguous pearl at me I’d already fucked up my life enough. I figured I’d be deemed death-bound regardless of what I do. I’m not a Medieval Templar knight, and I’m sure as hell not a religious fanatic who worships the Greek gods. I’m good with death.”
Bythos’s brow drooped and eyes narrowed. He gave a slow head shake. “Your little beloved ocean you oversee will go to hell without you. You’ll be shuttled to live with Hades when you succumb to your human-bound death.”
“Hades will U-turn me right back into my next reincarnated life.” Then he got the pleasure of remembering everything about being the Enforcer in his teens. That’s eons of bad memories of tracking and killing magical shits. He’d remember again the one and only time he had a family. They got tortured and executed by a coven of witches.
Merck said, “This time I might discuss a deal with my uncle to stay in the afterlife and give some other schmuck Enforcer duty. Poseidon can take care of the ocean. I just put a Band-Aid on it when she’s hurt. If having an active Enforcer is important enough, then the gods can find someone else.”
“You want to die?” Skepticism oozed from Bythos’s words.
“Hades and hell don’t sound so bad.”
Between one blink and the next Bythos stood next to him. He fisted Merck’s windbreaker and pulled him close. “Accept your destiny.”
“I thought I was by destroying deviant magicals as the Enforcer.” He stayed still in Bythos’s hold and glared. “Maybe my destiny is to die and leave this world over and over as the cursed policeman of the magic world.”
“You have a purpose and it’s not to spend time with your uncle. I’m sure Hades would find you entertaining though. Your dual purpose in this world involves be the Enforcer and...Let’s just say yours is a great destiny.”
“What is this shit about a great destiny beyond being the Enforcer? Me, the by-blow of Poseidon? I’m a half-human bastard who can do some water tricks and talk to ocean creatures. And the gods negotiated to shuttle me into the lifeline of a man cursed to fight inhuman evil for all eternity. So far, this destiny sucks.”
“Who said anything about being half-human?” Bythos’s face scrunched up. He released Merck.
“Oh, right. I’m pure god?” He rolled his eyes. The boat rocked between several large waves. He grabbed the rail, catching himself before he smacked into it. To his disgust Bythos stayed upright without seeking stability, riding the rocking like a pro surfer. Merck cleared his throat and resumed. “I don’t think so. Jason Merck, son of Poseidon god of… hell, I’m not a god. Jason is a ridiculous god name.”
“Jason isn’t your birth name. That’s the name the human selected to raise you decided upon.”
“Then what’s my real name?”
“I’m not allowed to tell.” Bythos crossed his arms.
“Because you’re nothing more than the spineless dick peon of my father?”
“I’m not a dick peon. I liaise with all ocean creatures, primarily the sea nymphs. I am the son of Cronos, King of all Titans.” His arms rested on his hips and head was thrown back with his chest on display.
Quickly, Merck snapped, “Oh, great one, what’s my real name?”
Bythos’s lips scrunched into a clear, “Really?”
“Please. I need to know my real name.” God, he hated begging.
Bythos released a long sigh and gazed upward. “Thanos.”
Merck’s mind whirled. Thanos? “Shelly wasn’t my real mother?”
“I can’t discuss this with you.”
“She says I was the product of a one-night stand with some guy she picked up in Savannah. She even remembers his name, but I assumed he was Poseidon in disguise. I’m the cursed bastard child of an affair Poseidon’s real wife didn’t approve of, which would be the reason for my impending life judgment and death sentence.”
Bythos scowled. “Memories can be altered, as were those of the woman who raised you. Poseidon would never lie with that woman.”
“He foisted me off on her? He gave up his son to a cold-blooded bitch. He made her think I was her real son. Who’s my mother?”
“You got all the family history you’re getting out of me today.”
“Why does Poseidon care what happens to me at this point? A real father would show up when his son goes through…shit.” Like when his mother—not his mother but the bitch who raised him—tried to sell him when he was ten to some pothead in exchange for drugs. He was tough enough at that time to scare the hell out of the pothead and stop the idiocy. What kind of mother sells her kid?
“It matters not to me if you live or die a human life, but it matters to them.”
“What them are you referring to?”
“The ones judging you.”
“So everything—my life—is all some sort of test?” How he hated being at the mercy of otherworldly beings. Who gave them the right to judge him? Resigned, he said, “Just tell me why you’re here this time.”
“To unlock your future and for you to be found pure of heart…”
How?
Bythos’s lips curled into an amused grin. “How? Ah, the tough kid isn’t quite so ready to die, now is he?”
“Stay out of my head. And, fuck you.”
After a slow, lascivious scan, Bythos smiled. “You’re not my type. Don’t take offense. You’re all right to gaze upon. Now that fine lady ashore you keep avoiding… She could be my type. Blonde, busty.” He ran his hands in the hourglass figure of a shapely woman.
“You’re not her type.”
“I’m a god. Humans love me. I’m always their type.”
“Stay away from her. Just tell me whatever it is you need to tell me. Let’s get it over with.”
Bythos rubbed his hands together as if preparing to start a delightful project. “Good to know you’re not so apathetic about death. Get back to shore and make sure nothing kills the answer to your problem. I suggest you bind your life to hers.”
“What?” Laughter bubbled from deep within Merck. Inappropriate at the moment, but everything about matrimony when he was about to die felt ludicrous. He doubled over as the hilarity erupted. It actually felt good to laugh this hard.
“What’s so funny?” Bythos demanded.
Merck held up a hand, struggling to rein in his amusement. He swiped his weeping eyes. “You want me to marry Shannon?” He belly-laughed again. “In order to be found pure of heart you suggest I marry someone who you guys must deem to be so trying, so tedious, that I would be seen as a martyr?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“She’d be a handful, but…damn.” A solitary snort shot out of him. He shook his head and waggled a finger at Bythos. “That’s a good one. Cold, but a good one.”
“Those nameless dead girls washing ashore weren’t human. They were Pleiades.”
What? Amusement fled. “As in the goddesses? No one can kill a goddess.”
“They can if they stole Deus Mortem poison from Circe. All the deities have a purpose. With the Pleiades murdered their human descendants become critical. Someone wants to wipe all trace of them out of existence.” Bythos disappeared.
Merck stood there, frozen, staring at the vacant spot Bythos had occupied moments ago. Someone murdered Pleiades goddesses? Six were dead. One remained alive. He tried to remember the exact purpose of the Pleiades goddesses but couldn’t other than there was a constellation named for them.
Shannon was in bigger trouble than he thought.
A few drops of rain hit his face. The wind shifted direction, plastering the thin windbreaker against the other side of his body.
The wind blew harder with rain pelting from above. He cranked the engine. It turned over, but didn’t catch. Damned battery was low. He bent over in the pouring rain whose droplets felt to be the size of oranges and hooked up the engine to the backup battery. Two cranks and it rumbled, but sputtered out.
“Oh, come on!” he shouted. He didn’t want to call Chad for a tow. Twice in one month was humiliating. He cranked once more. The motor rumbled to life.
He would help Shannon with whatever brought her down here, but he wouldn’t deceive himself by thinking doing so would solve his judgment-day problem. It was the right thing to do if her life was in danger. It’d be the first step in what promised to be a complicated, painful scenario the gods mapped out. He despised being manipulated but, apparently, she too had been sucked into their plan.