Chapter 15
Seth
The stone parish church the five us of appeared behind had to be hundreds of years old. The thing was obviously still in use and in great shape, but damn, it was old.
“You just had to bring us here?” Alex’s wide gaze was trained on the ancient gravestones scattered around the church, rising up out of the thick grass like misshapen teeth. Most of the tombstones were unreadable, the words and dates lost to time.
“I figured this was the safest location to appear in,” I explained. “The village isn’t big. Once we leave the church grounds, we’re pretty much in the town, and the last thing we need is to appear out of thin air in front of mortals”
“It’s so strange how you’re actually thinking about these things.” Aiden tilted his head. “I’m used to you not—”
“Giving a fuck?” I supplied for him.
“Yeah. Basically.”
I lifted a shoulder. Truth was, in the past I probably would’ve enjoyed scaring the shit out of some mortal, but now? The possible fallout of scaring the shit out of a mortal wasn’t worth the momentary amusement.
“But this is the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, seemingly aware of Aiden and me.
“Really?” Aiden’s brows lifted as he twisted toward her. “Pretty sure the giant spiders in the Underworld were the creepiest thing we’ve ever seen.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Her brow pinched. “Forgot about those.”
Aiden stared at her.
“How in the world did you forget about that?” Luke asked, and then he turned. “Dammit. Where is he going?”
Deacon was already halfway through the uneven rows. He looked over his shoulder when Luke shouted. “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” he yelled back, and I frowned. “You guys have to see some of these tombstones.”
Luke sighed heavily as he glanced at Aiden. “That’s your brother.”
“That’s your boyfriend,” Aiden shot back.
“True.” He let out another sigh. “I better go get him.”
It took a few minutes to round up Deacon and get going. “Lead the way,” I said to Luke, who I knew had done a lot of research on the village. Valuable research. Unlike Deacon.
Who could list the ghosts that supposedly haunted Pluckley.
The screaming man.
Shadow people.
The schoolmaster who hung himself.
The Red Lady.
The White Lady.
Meanwhile, Luke knew where to go. “I figure the best place for us to scope out is this pub I saw. Seemed like a smart place to go. It’s kind of in the middle of everything.”
So that’s where we headed while Deacon beguiled the group with different ghost stories he’d heard.
My first impression of Pluckley was exactly how I’d imagined it. Rolling green pastures. Homes that are nearly as old as some of the trees, and narrow roads. The place was quaint, and I think Josie would’ve liked seeing it.
She probably would’ve liked to hear Deacon tell his stories, too.
I hung back as we walked along the road, keeping an eye on everything. There were no weird feelings or surges of energy, but I was staying alert.
“The houses look like something out of The Hobbit,” Deacon was saying, and I grinned. They sort of did. “And I thought it was rainy and overcast in Britain?”
Luke patted Deacon’s shoulder. “The sun does come out here.”
Alex responded to something Deacon muttered under his breath, and I was at once grateful to see that there appeared to be a lot of tourists snapping pictures, because if not, we would stick out like sore thumbs. I’d be worried about all the attention Deacon was drawing.
Gods.
My lip curled.
This “being responsible” thing was fucking exhausting.
Aiden slowed down, falling in step beside me. “Feel anything?” he asked. “Like yesterday?”
“Nothing so far.” We hooked a right, and the brick buildings crowded the road. I glanced over at Aiden, and saw he too was eyeing everything closely. “That could change.”
“True.” He kept his hands loose at his sides. “I wanted to say something to you.”
Gods only knew what this was going to be. “Do I even want to know?”
A faint grin appeared. “I’m proud of you.”
I almost stopped walking when I looked over at him. I had no words. None.
He let out a low chuckle. “Shocked you into silence? I’m going to take advantage of that before you tell me to shut up. You didn’t go after Oceanus yesterday. The old Seth would’ve. And the old Seth would’ve thrown down with Zeus, no matter the consequence. You may have even killed him. At least, you would’ve put a hurting on him. The fact it appears you just talked with him shows how much you’ve changed, and I was wrong.”
Aiden wrong?
Tartarus just froze the fuck over.
“I was wrong when I said it appeared you weren’t concerned and didn’t care,” he continued. “So, I wanted to say that I’m proud of you.”
I let his words sink in and then I said, “Shut up.”
Aiden smiled as he looked away.
~
Josie
There had never been doors here?
No.
No way.
My mouth dropped open. I hadn’t been the only one to see them. Deacon had been with me the first time, and both of us had seen those doors. And besides, I’d walked through them with Medusa.
I snapped out my stupor. “There’s another librarian that works here. She’s this tall.” I lifted my hand as far as I could get it over my head. “And has really…curly hair. She wears sunglasses. Is she working?”
The librarian’s dark brows rose. “There’s another full-time librarian, but that doesn’t sound like Lilly. There’s Janice, and she’s here on the weekends and on Tuesday and Thursdays, but she has pin-straight hair and she’s shorter than me.”
Whoever she described was not who I was looking for, unless Medusa could shapeshift. And what did I know? Maybe Medusa could.
Another book flew up to the shelf, this one ending up on the shelf second from the top. “Are you sure whoever you’re looking for works here?”
Well, I had no idea if Medusa actually worked here or not. “Maybe not,” I said, backing up. “Thanks for your help.”
Turning around, I cut over to the left and then headed past the empty tables once more. What in the hell was going on? Had Medusa left the library, therefore taking the doors with her?
If so, that sucked.
Because what did that leave me with? A big fat nothing, because with Medusa gone, that left it up to my father to randomly appear and impart some useful information. Which was as likely as me deciding to never eat bacon again.
This was big. Huge.
The demigods’ icons, what they needed when their powers were unbound, were in that place Medusa had taken me to.
And that place had been under the library…and yet somehow outside it.
It had been one of the gateways to Olympus.
Full of frustration, I all but stomped my way back to the dorm. Once inside, I walked to the center of the sitting room and then I looked to the ceiling.
“Apollo?” I called out, wincing because I felt kind of foolish. My gaze flickered over the ceiling and I waited. Nothing. “Dad?”
Reaching for my braid, I ran my fingers over it as I tried again. “Apollo? If you can hear me, I could really, seriously use to talk to you right now.”
Silence.
I moved closer to the doorway to the bedroom like I could, I don’t know, get better reception to Olympus or something. “I really need to talk to you about the demigods and the Titans. We have no idea how to entomb them or how to unlock their powers.”
Still nothing.
The frustration began to give way to anger. “And the doors in the library are gone. How can the demigods get access to their icons if Medusa isn’t here? How in the hell can we fight the Titans? What are we supposed to do? It’s not like we can train them to fight. It would take months, if not years, to get them to the point where they can go toe to toe with a Titan. And not to mention, they’re basically human. They can’t be expected to be able to fight like we’d need them to.”
And still, there was no response.
I dropped my braid and my hands curled into fists as I stared up until the stupid—so stupid—burn behind my lids forced me to close my eyes. “Do you know? I’m pregnant. I’m going to be a mother and Seth is going to be a father and you…” My voice cracked as a knot formed in my throat. “You’re going to be a grandfather. Do you not even care?”
Opening my eyes, I stood there in silence as I lowered my chin. Hot tears crawled their way up my throat—stupid tears. So stupid, because I wasn’t even sure why I was so bothered by the lack of response. Yes, he was my father, but he hadn’t raised me, and he hadn’t given me any real indication that he was remotely interested in forging any type of father/daughter relationship.
But damn, it still hurt.
Letting out a ragged breath, I wiped at my damp cheeks. “Pull it together,” I ordered myself. “No time for tears.”
After taking yet another deep, cleansing breath, I flipped my braid over my shoulder and then left my room. Knowing that Cora and Gable were good to go with Colin, I was going to do the next best thing I could do since Medusa was currently a bust and my father was off doing who knew what.
I was going to practice with the elements.
Clouds were beginning to fill the sky when I walked outside again, blocking out the sun and dropping the temperature. Since I was going out to the field that tended to get windy on a calm day, I wished I’d grabbed a hoodie or something, but I kept walking. Maybe the clouds would clear.
Nearing the infirmary and cafeteria buildings, I rounded the corner of the building, passing a group of students who were clustered together, off to the side on the lawn. I reached the edge of the sprawling portico that surrounded the entrance to the cafeteria. I stepped out—
From between the thick marble columns, a heavy, metal outdoor chair flew across the walkway, smacking into a nearby tree.
“Holy crap!”
Something big barreled right at me. I jumped to the side, planting myself against the building as I narrowly missed being taken down by a…by a person. Pushing off the wall, I spun just as the person slammed into the walkway with a sickening crack. Marble underneath him splintered.
Whirling around, my lips parted on a sharp inhale as I stared out over the courtyard in front of the cafeteria. People were everywhere. Halfs. Pures. Sentinels and Guards in the middle of them, shouting orders. It was absolute chaos.
And I’d walked right into the middle of it.
~
Seth
The sun had gone down, and flames were flickering from the brick fireplace despite the fact that it was summer, and if I saw another basket of fish and chips come out of the kitchen, I might actually burn the building down.
So far, the trip to Pluckley had turned up…nothing. The patrons of the pub were, frankly, so mortal I was bored to tears. No fighting or even shouting. Well, there was a game on the TV, and that had caused some yelling, but nothing to raise an eyebrow. Not even a ghost, much to Deacon’s disappointment.
And Alex and Aiden had left for a little while and did some scouting around the few local businesses. Nothing suspicious there.
I was more than ready to get out of there and get back to Josie, but…
There was a weird feeling building between my shoulder blades. Had been for the last two hours. As I sat in the wooden chair, drinking bitter ale, this sharp tingle began and hadn’t gone away. It reminded me of the feeling you get when someone is eyeballing the fuck out of you.
Except for curious glances from the townsfolk, no one was paying a damn bit of attention to us. I kept looking over my shoulder and seeing nothing. The only thing I managed to do was commit the faces of the patrons to memory.
If the demigod was here, he was nicely hidden, and short of going door to door, we needed a better plan.
“What’s the game plan?” I asked once Alex had returned from the restroom.
Aiden leaned back, draping his arm along the back of Alex’s chair. “I think we can give it a couple of more hours, but I don’t see the point of staying the night.”
Deacon looked up from the menu of desserts. “I am so staying the night.”
“Deacon—”
“You’ll have to pull my cold, dead body out of here if you think I’m going to miss the chance to stay at the B&B down the road. Do you know—?”
“I really do not think they want to hear about whatever ghost may be haunting that place,” Luke cut in as the tingle between my shoulder blades intensified. He ignored Deacon’s narrowed gaze. “We can head out. Check out the town again. Maybe—”
A sudden heavy thud drew our attention. I looked over my shoulder just as a bar stool rolled across the uneven floorboards. My gaze flew to the bar. Several men stood there, their backs to us.
Aiden pulled his arm off Alex’s chair as she twisted in her seat. “Could just be someone drunk.”
“Could be,” Alex murmured.
A man in a dark shirt stumbled back a step just as a shorter, older fellow with gray hair picked up his tall mug of frothy, amber liquid.
“What is your problem, Kent?” the younger man demanded. “You’re acting like an utter twat.”
“Whoa.” Deacon’s eyes widened. “That’s hardcore.”
Said twat turned, gripping his mug. “You’re taking a piss at me.”
“What?” whispered Alex. “Did he just get peed on?”
I snickered. “That’s not what it means.”
Aiden shot her a quick grin before refocusing on the bar.
Whatever the younger guy said in return was lost in laughter and jeers coming from the peanut gallery at the bar. Nothing was too out of the ordinary about this. Seemed like just a drunken argument.
“Bloody arseholes.” The younger man shoved his fist out, making the universe sign for jerking off before he turned from the bar.
Without saying a word, the old man—the man old enough to fucking know better—tossed the drink and the glass straight at the back of the younger man’s head.
The man jerked forward, his knees smacking off the floorboards as he gripped the back of his head.
“Holy crap on a cracker,” gasped Alex, shooting out of her chair.
“Why you go an’ do that?” someone at the bar demanded, stepping back with a scowl. His blond hair was a mess, like he’d been out in a wind tunnel.
The old man, who was starting to remind me of Santa Claus, waved the man off. “Stop sticking your beak in, you massive bellend.”
Blondie shot forward, slamming his fist right in Santa’s face. The old man pinwheeled backward. He was going down. Probably going to break a hip.
I kicked my feet up on Alex’s empty chair and crossed my arms.
Aiden was fast, though, flying out of his seat and catching Santa by the shoulders before he fell and hurt himself.
“Careful there.” Aiden straightened him, letting go when he appeared sure the man wasn’t going down.
Santa spun, his red face blotchy. “Who are you?” He looked Aiden up and down with an impressive level of distaste only a British person could muster. “Nothing but a silly cu—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Aiden advised. “Seriously.”
“Yeah?” Santa shot back, as belligerent as ever.
Aiden stared down at the portly man, his voice flat. “Yeah.”
Someone let out a shout that would’ve made a banshee proud. Luke rose just as the man who’d taken a glass to the back of the head charged the bar with a stool high over his head.
Alex shot forward, snatching the barstool out of the man’s hands as blood trickled down his neck. She put the stool down. “Now, that’s not nice. You could really hurt someone.”
The man turned on Alex and then he looked at her, really looked at her. “Well, you ain’t no minger.”
I had no idea what “minger” meant, but Aiden didn’t like the sound of that. He was next to Alex in a nanosecond. Wrong move, because Santa was still on the move. He picked up the barstool.
“Oh, shit.” Luke’s eyes widened as Deacon reached over, picking a cold fry off my plate and popping it in his mouth.
Santa winged the barstool at the bar. That thing flew through the air like a damn Frisbee. The bartender ducked at the last second, and the stool crashed into the shelf lined with liquor. Glass shattered and liquor spewed into the air.
Well, that had escalated quickly.
The bartender popped up and vaulted over the bar. Vaulted. He tackled Santa, crashing into the table next to where we sat. Plates broke as a burly redhead snatched his beer off the table before it was lost.
Luke ducked as a bottle flew over his head. He turned to me. “You going to get up and help anytime soon?”
“Not yet.” My gaze trekked over the bar, searching out any new faces. I was sure I’d seen everyone come in, but obviously I had missed someone.
Because if they’d been right about who this demigod was, he was in here.
Deacon reached over our table and picked up my barely-touched plate of food. “Keeping it safe for you.”
“Sure,” I murmured, scanning the bar.
He backed away, cuddling the plate close to his chest.
“Gods.” Alex swung, catching a tall, scrawny guy who was making a beeline for Deacon by the scruff of the neck. She tossed the guy back, and he slid along the now-slippery floor. “Seth, are you enjoying yourself?”
“Immensely,” I murmured.
Then I saw him.
Well, saw the back of him.
He was tall and his dark hair brushed the collar of the back of his white shirt. He’d easily dipped under a thrown punch that connected with some poor guy’s face. He was carrying a mug of what appeared to be beer.
Every godly instinct in me told me that was who we were looking for.
A slow smile spread over my face as I finally got my ass out of the chair. “Guys, I think we got a winner.”