Sin City Goddess Page 5

  He wanted so badly to take one of those fragile necks in his hands and squeeze until her eyeballs popped. They didn’t actually pop all the way out, in his experience. At least, they hadn’t with the others. He’d like to see that, though. Maybe he could try something new. An experiment.

  But no, he had to wait. He had to have patience.

  It wouldn’t be long now.

  Chapter 9

  We navigated the city like rats in a maze. We had to cross over streets, go up and down moving staircases, and still it seemed we were no closer to our destination. I couldn’t understand how everything seemed within reach when it was actually miles away.

  Occasionally, I would point to something and Archer would identify it. He explained that a pawnshop was where people exchanged valuables for currency. I couldn’t help but feel a bit sad thinking of all those lost treasures. Humans used to value ancient artifacts. It seemed now that everything was disposable.

  We passed open markets, eateries, and a few of those characters in animal costumes that Hades had shown me back in the war room. As the lord of the Underworld had said, people were posing for pictures with them, libations in hand. I saw a few women walking around in elaborate headdresses, with little covering anything else. I couldn’t blame them in this heat, but those things on their heads—and the sparkling, painfully high heels dressing their feet—looked unbearably uncomfortable.

  And then I spotted her. An angel with wings. I tugged Archer’s shirt and said, “Look, she must be a goddess. Perhaps it would be all right to use my wings. We can fly to our inn in no time!”

  There was a shiny pyramid to the right of her.

  “That’s the Luxor. It’s a casino and hotel, and she’s likely in costume, handing out two-for-one passes to a show.”

  “You mean the wings aren’t real?” I asked.

  He said, “Nothing in Vegas is real.”

  I couldn’t hide my disappointment.

  “We’re not too far. Hang tight,” Archer said.

  We passed another casino—which I learned was the term mortals used for gaming houses—that looked like the New York skyline, and Archer explained there was another farther along the path that resembled the Eiffel Tower of Paris. All of them were lit up more brightly than the sun. Why did they need all these lights in the daytime?

  By now, the sweat was pouring off me, and Archer didn’t look much better. His cheeks were flushed, his hair damp, and he adjusted his jeans now and then, as if he wished he could take them off. I briefly wondered what his legs looked like. Were they strong and athletic-looking, like his upper body?

  I pushed the thought out of my mind. The sun was making me delirious.

  We passed a small man with skin a few shades lighter than Hades’s, slapping some papers in his hand. He handed me one, and I stopped to read it.

  Archer snatched it and said, “You don’t want to look at that.”

  I wrestled it back and said, “I can think for myself, Lawman.”

  It was a glossy photograph of a beautiful, red-haired woman. The caption read: Cherry. Delivered to your room in twenty minutes. Discreet. Reasonable rates.

  “You can order a woman delivered in twenty minutes?” I asked.

  “Faster than a pizza.” Archer looked uncomfortable.

  I pulled him aside and asked quietly, “Could this have something to do with the missing women?” The photograph was still in my hand.

  He said, “I checked that angle. I don’t think so. Come on, let’s keep moving, and for God’s sake, don’t take every flyer someone passes to you in this town, or we’ll be here all night.”

  I scanned the streets and noticed there were quite a lot more young men trying to give away more flyers, as Archer called them. I tossed mine in the trash bin, and we continued on.

  We had to travel up one more moving staircase—escalators, Archer called them—before we got to the sidewalk that led to Caesars Palace. There was a young man in a red T-shirt with a mouse on it. The man was sitting on the ground with a sign that said ANYTHING HELPS. Next to him was a brightly colored bucket with coins in it.

  A lost one.

  “Archer, give him something.”

  “I don’t have anything.”

  “You have that shiny thing you showed to those men in the car. That seemed valuable. The sign says anything helps.”

  Archer looked at me as if I had snakes growing out of my head, like Medusa. “You want me to give him my badge? Are you crazy?”

  At the mention of the word “badge,” the young man sat up straighter.

  Archer pulled me aside, bumping into a young woman as he did so. He apologized, and she smiled at him. To me he said softly, “Look, this isn’t what you think.”

  “He’s a lost soul. He needs help. I recall once upon a time you were lost and someone helped you.” I crossed my arms.

  Archer ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right. And I never thanked you for that, so thank you.”

  I nodded.

  “Now, take a look at that kid.”

  I did.

  “You see that shirt he’s wearing? It cost more than my watch. And his shoes? Cost more than my car. The bucket next to him is from the MGM Grand. It still has condensation on it from the frozen drink he ordered. Strawberry, from the looks of his lips.”

  I studied the boy again. Everything Archer said seemed accurate. His hair was quite kempt for being out in this heat. The two of us looked like we’d traipsed through a rain forest.

  I asked. “So, he’s a thief?”

  “Basically.”

  I marched over to the young man, who averted his eyes. “Leave now, and you won’t be punished.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” he protested.

  I leaned in, grabbed his cheek, and forced him to look into my eyes. I didn’t light the flame, but the Fury in me had been engaged. When that happened, my true colors could emerge if I allowed it. And I did, briefly enough to be safe.

  The boy scuttled to his feet, left the bucket, and ran.

  I stood up, rather proud of myself.

  Archer did not look so pleased.

  “What? He needed to learn a lesson,” I said.

  Archer shook his head. “Tisiphone, if you insist on punishing every sinner in Las Vegas, we’ll be stuck here until the end of time.”

  I picked at a nail. It was in my nature to encourage people to behave better. It was the only thing I was born to do. I didn’t know how to turn it off, and even if I could, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

  “That many?” I asked him. Could this city really be that full of immorality and lawbreakers?

  “More,” Archer said. “That’s why they call it Sin City.”

  Archer was right, and that irked me. I couldn’t get sidetracked. We had a task to complete. The sooner it was done, the sooner we could all go home.

  “I hate this town,” I said.

  “I know,” said Archer.

  We turned and began walking toward the entrance of Caesars Palace.

  Chapter 10

  I followed Archer through a wide passageway. We stepped onto a mobile sidewalk that carried us to another escalator, which led down to a large, carpeted room. There were giant electronic video screens on the walls. Men and women were lounging around tables with pens and notebooks in their hands, their eyes glued to some sporting event on the video boxes. Some were hooting and hollering at the players, while others appeared dejected.

  “Keep your head down. Try not to attract too much attention. I don’t want to be spotted by the manager until we have a plan in place.” Archer looked tense. Worry lined his face, as if he hadn’t quite thought everything through yet.

  “I need water.” My mouth felt as if I had swallowed a sand castle.

  He hurried along past gaming tables and people shouting out numbers. I kept pace behind him, feeling weaker with every step. I wished I hadn’t disciplined that boy. It seemed to drain even more of my strength, though it was a minor effort.

>   What was happening to me? Was it the sun? The city?

  The noise inside the casino was deafening. People were shouting, lights were blinking, and machines were clinking. It was like being trapped inside a pinball machine. And I thought Chuck E. Cheese’s was an obnoxious assignment. This was a million times worse.

  Archer paused to check the card that was a key and said, “We’ll be in the room soon, and you can have all the water you want.” He looked up and said. “The elevators are right there.”

  I followed his nod, but something else caught my eye. The Shadow Bar.

  I poked Archer. “That’s where my sister was taken. That’s where all the women disappeared, isn’t it?”

  Archer glanced at the establishment. “Yes. Let’s get to the room first and—”

  I held up my hand. “I have to go in. Not an option.”

  “Tisiphone, wait!” Archer hissed, but I was already up the few widemouthed steps and through the entry.

  There was a long, sleek bar on the left. A tavern host who reminded me of Adonis acrobatically flipped bottles into the air, to the oohs and aahs of three young women in tight dresses seated in front of him. Several tables cupped with oversized chairs were scattered about the room, all pointing to the wall-to-wall screens behind the bar. A vast array of liquor bottles in front of the thin screens held liquids in every color imaginable. The screens were lit from behind, a pinkish hue highlighting them, and two women—or, rather, the silhouettes of two women—danced behind them.

  I walked around the space, trying to conjure the energy of Alecto. Trying to feel the remains of her presence. Any living thing leaves traces of itself wherever it travels—goddesses even more so. I tweaked my nose to turn up its ability to full power. Alecto always smelled like jasmine. It was her signature scent.

  Not a trace of it.

  How was that possible? She had only just been here.

  Someone grabbed my arm from behind me, more forcefully than I would ever allow. I turned to head-butt the perpetrator, but it was Archer. He was lucky I wasn’t functioning at full capacity, or I would have broken his nose, and I told him so.

  “We have to go. Now. Before he sees us.” He quickly glanced behind him at a middle-aged, stout man with black hair in a shiny suit.

  The man was talking to someone, but he spotted us and practically ran over.

  “Dammit,” Archer hissed under his breath. He glared at me, and I rolled my eyes. Honestly, what was all the fuss?

  “Relax, Lawman.”

  He wanted to say something more, I could tell, but he bit his tongue. The man in the suit motioned to the tavern keeper on his way over to us.

  He pointed one finger to Archer, another to the far wall, and Archer and I followed.

  The man flicked his eyes to me, raised one brow at Archer, and waited.

  Archer said, “She’s with me. Clyde, this is Tisi.”

  I stuck my hand out, and Clyde bent to kiss it. I didn’t like that one bit. His lips were cold and slimy, like a serpent’s.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Tisi.” He paused and walked his eyes all over me, which I liked even less, and said, “Has anyone ever told you you look like Liz Taylor?”

  “No.”

  “A little skinnier, little lighter in the boob department, but yeah, you do.”

  I gave Archer a look that warned I might strike Clyde at any moment. And what was it with humans and breasts? They had practically smacked me in the face everywhere I’d looked the entire walk over here. Which reminded me: I still needed water.

  As if summoned, the tanned barkeep with the Adonis eyes presented me with water in a V-stemmed glass. He handed one to Archer too.

  “Thank you. I’m parched,” I said.

  “No, don’t,” Archer said, right after I downed it in one gulp.

  I handed the glass back to Adonis and ordered another. The water tasted funny here, but at that point I wouldn’t have cared if it had been scraped from the bottom of a river. I needed strength.

  “Let her have a little fun, Archie,” Clyde said.

  For some reason, I found that absolutely hysterical. “Archie. I like that. I think I’ll call you that.”

  Archer pulled up a chair for me and ordered me to sit.

  I hiccupped in response.

  “So who is this, Arch?” Clyde asked. He seemed edgy.

  In a low voice, Archer said, “She’s my partner.”

  Clyde nodded. A brief flicker of unease passed through his eyes. Then he smiled and said, “So you need a cover for her.”

  Adonis brought me another water. This one had an olive. I downed the water, ate the olive, and tucked the toothpick into the front of his pants. He smiled at me and winked. I winked back, ordered another drink, and watched his very firm behind head back to the bar. Maybe he would let me sip the next water from his navel.

  I felt worlds better. The thirst was gone, I was relaxed, and even the sounds of the games seemed a million miles away. The water tasted odd, but it suited me.

  Archer looked furious, for some reason.

  I pointed a long fingernail at him and said, “You know, pal, if we’re going to work together, you need to lighten up.”

  Wait a moment. Did I just say pal? I wasn’t even sure what that meant. Perhaps I was picking up the local linguistics. That should serve me well.

  “So, can she dance?” Clyde asked.

  “No,” Archer said.

  I smirked at him. “How do you know, Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud?” I paused. My voice sounded funny. It sounded like I had said “Schtick-in-the-Schmud.”

  Adonis, the new love of my life, brought me another tall glass of clear refreshment. It had sugar on the rim and a lemon peel in it. I ran my hands up and down his chest before I took the glass off the tray.

  “Watch this,” I said.

  I took a big gulp of the water and set the glass back on the tray, then gyrated my hips the way I had seen the Graces do a thousand times. I grabbed the glass again and sipped as I danced, shaking my chest in the chiseled face of my young attendant. When I finished the water, I set the glass down, planted my hands on my thighs, and whipped my head around, loosening up my ponytail so that it was just a mass of black waves. I lifted my arms over my head and scooted up to Archer. I hip-bumped him a few times, then straddled him as my torso leaned back, before slowly climbing up him again to nibble his ear. He had a bemused look on his face.

  That was the last thing I remembered.

  Chapter 11

  I woke up in a strange room, my tongue feeling like it was wearing a cotton coat, my head pounding as if a tiny drummer were trapped inside. A man’s voice was coming from somewhere beyond the door.

  “Yes, I called a little while ago. Better make it two pots of coffee,” he said. “You have any Gatorade?” A pause. “Great. And aspirin. Thank you.”

  Where was I? The bed was plush, with crisp white cotton sheets and a fluffy duvet. There was a window to the right. A wall of windows, in fact. I pulled the duvet around me, climbed out of bed, and shuffled over to the window.

  I was high up. There were miles of buildings in sight. Looking down, I saw a cascading fountain with a statue of Pegasus perched in the center. Then I remembered. My sister. The FBI agent. Las Freaking Vegas.

  I groaned.

  My brain was fuzzy, thoughts jumbled. I wasn’t wearing any pants under the blanket, but I did have a top on.

  “How did I get here?” I whispered.

  There was movement beyond the wide brown door. Then a knock.

  “Tisiphone?”

  I groaned again and shut the drapes on that garish sun. Didn’t the moon ever rise in this vulgar city?

  “What?” I snapped.

  The door creaked open, and a freshly shaven Archer stepped into the room, hands in his jeans pockets. He was wearing a shirt the color of a ripe plum, with threads of gold throughout that brought out the amber in his eyes. It reminded me of something Apollo would wear—cut to mold his frame, and stylish.
<
br />   “How you feeling, Sassy?”

  “Like I was hit by a truck.” I sank into a plush red chair and wrapped the blanket tighter around me. “You’re looking well.”

  Archer smoothed out his shirt. “I think it was Iris who Athena said stocked the suite. She did a fine job on the wardrobe. There should be clothes in your room too.”

  He handed me a glass of water. “I ordered room service. Once you get some food and coffee in you, you’ll be good as new.”

  The water was cool against my lips. I put the glass to my forehead. “What happened? Were we attacked?”

  Archer wove a sly smile. “You don’t remember?”

  I shook my head. Then I winced at the pain the movement caused. No sudden twists or turns, Tisi.

  “Well, for starters, you downed three martinis like a sailor who hasn’t seen shore for eighteen months.”

  “What’s a martini?”

  Archer cocked his head. “What’s a martini?”

  “Is it a potion?” All I could remember drinking was one glass of water.

  “That clear liquid in the fancy glass.” He crossed his arms. “What did you think you were drinking at the Shadow Bar?”

  “I thought it was water. Just thought it tasted different here.” Then I recalled I was holding a cup of the stuff. I sniffed it. No odor. I took another small sip. Tasted like pure water.

  Archer guffawed. “Seriously? They don’t have vodka in Olympus? Alcohol?”

  “Of course they do. Mostly wine. Some mead. A green elixir, made from juniper berries, called gin. Absinthe. And Hermes makes his own beer.” I took another slow sip of the cool water and held the glass to my cheek this time. “I’ve never heard of vodka, though. I haven’t been in your world in quite some time, remember.”

  Then a horrible thought occurred to me. What had I done that I didn’t remember? And where were my pants? I stood and faced Archer, still clutching the duvet.

  “Is there anything I should know?”

  Archer smiled again, and I so wanted to slap it off his face, but that would require swift movement and energy I didn’t have at the moment.

  “You were fine. You got hammered, promised you’d dance at the Shadow Bar, and passed out, and I put you to bed.”