Gil finally remembered his empty flask, reaching for it and twisting the cap back on. “I mean, we do have this murder investigation going on right now.”
“I didn’t say now, did I? Just – sometime soon. Whenever you’re ready. Let’s have a big old bash and break shit. Chicks optional. Been down on my luck in that department, too. I’m permanently banned from the Twilight Tavern. Did you know that a valkyrie can carry you over her shoulder? I sure as hell didn’t.”
“Don’t tell me you tried to get handsy with them,” I said. “One of them could break your spine like a twig. Besides, it’s a bed and breakfast. How hard were you expecting to party?”
He rubbed at the curls of his hair irritably. “No no, it’s not that. Didn’t get handsy. I showed up for brunch one time and drank all their bellinis. Is it my fault, I ask you, that the All-father didn’t put a limit on how many watered-down bellinis a customer is allowed? I only had ninety-five.”
My jaw dropped in horror. “Jesus Christ.”
“Right,” Pan said. “Jesus Christ would have been so cool about it, and cool to party with, too. Water to wine? What a bro. Anyway. We’re gonna party. That’s my price. Take it or leave it.”
He held out his hand, thrusting it into the middle of the circle, waiting for someone to shake it. We must have all had the same idea, then, because we all reached for Pan’s hand, awkwardly clasping it. A jolt of warmth shot from his skin, pressing into mine. I jerked my hand away.
“What the hell was that?”
“Pinky promise,” Pan said. “No big deal. You break the bargain and your internal organs start flooding with wine. You drown from the inside.”
“Holy shit,” Gil said. “Okay, fine. We’ll party with you.”
Asher looked down at his hands mournfully. “I’m not even old enough to drink.”
Pan leapt to his feet, his hooves stomping the grass, along with the fruit basket. Totally not an accident. Pulp and juice sprayed everywhere. I grimaced, wiping off the sleeve of my jacket. No wonder Dionysus hated the guy.
“What horny goat man wants, horny goat man gets. We’re gonna party our faces off. It’s gonna be a fucking riot.” He pumped his fists in the air and whooped, literally a party of one. Then he squinted, looking off among the trees. “Wait. Who the fuck is that?”
Gil’s head whipped towards where Pan pointed. He snarled, then sprang to his feet, shoes thundering against fallen leaves as he sprinted into the darkness. Farther ahead of him, something yelped.
My instincts kicked in. I took off like a bolt, giving chase to whatever it was that Pan had spotted and Gil was now pursuing. Maybe it was my competitive nature, but far more likely, it was something coded into my cells, a vampiric appreciation for the thrill of the hunt. Behind me, Pan spoke again.
“Look at them go. What a pair of studs. Total jocks. Hey, necromancer. You seem like the nerd of the group.”
“I mean,” Asher said. “You’re not wrong.”
I would have laughed if I hadn’t already engaged every muscle in my body, dedicating all its resources towards capturing our elusive, unnamed prey. Full speed ahead for Starship Sterling. I caught up with Gil with some effort. We made the briefest glimmer of eye contact, then nodded, breaking apart so that we ran parallel, leaving our victim – I mean, our target – somewhere in between.
We had the advantage of speed, anyway. This was a familiar maneuver, specifically for me and Gil. The point was to flank the object of pursuit, make them the meat in a supernatural sandwich, then tackle the ever-loving hell out of them.
I could just make out the blur running ahead of us, two arms and two legs pumping in the darkness, and somewhere at its core, a heart thumping with fear and adrenaline. With blood. At least we knew it was human, or at the very least, humanoid. The scent of them was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Wait. Did I know them?
Good thing we were about to find out.
My boot struck the ground one last time. I launched myself through the air, arms extended, fingers clawing for purchase. Across among the trees, I caught a glimpse of Gil doing the same. My blood sang with the joy of impending victory. Between us, the thing on two legs let out a fearful cry, then fell under our combined weight. We tumbled through grass and wet leaves, a tangle of limbs and hair and teeth.
“Got you, you little bastard,” I said, chuckling, panting hard. Hold on. He wasn’t little. Not very little at all.
I pulled away first, once I was sure that Gil still had a hold of him. I brushed off my jacket and smoothed back my hair. Taking down prey was fun, sure, but I couldn’t be doing that at the expense of looking like a bedraggled mess. Good thing I fixed myself up, too. Gil was wrestling our target, keeping him pinned to the ground, but turning him around so we could see his face.
“Uncle,” the man said, sputtering as he blew away locks of his own damp blond hair that had become stuck to his mouth. “I yield. I give up. Whatever. Just stop twisting my arm off.”
My forehead wrinkled, and I bent closer, disbelieving.
“Roth? Is that you?”
22
Gil pulled Roth off the ground, grabbing him by the collar. They were about the same height, just barely, with Roth standing a couple of inches taller, but Gil’s ferocity made him ten feet tall. He bared his teeth, pressing his face intimidatingly close. Roth probably could have taken human Gil in a fistfight. Emphasis on probably. He flopped about nervously, transformed into a little boy under the laser-like intensity of Gil’s scrutiny.
“Who the fuck are you, and why were you spying on us?” he snarled.