False Gods (Sins of the Father 2)

A hand landed on my shoulder, almost making me jump. It was just the maenad. She smiled at me warmly.

“Here’s your cola, hun.” The maenad slipped a coaster towards me, placing a still-fizzing glass on it.

I gestured at Belphegor, nodding my head at him. “This one wants an IPA.”

The maenad gave me a quizzical look, furrowing her forehead. “You playing tricks on me? Who wants an IPA, now?”

I turned to show her, but he was already gone. I chuckled, playing it cool with the maenad. “It’s nothing,” I said, rubbing my temples and yawning. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”

She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Well, you finish up your drink and be sure to get some rest. Silly.”

The maenad wandered off again, probably to wipe down another dozen glasses, leaving me to my thoughts – and to the little scrap of ripped, charred notebook paper Belphegor had left on his stool. It had an address scrawled across it, and at the bottom, underlined three times, a single word: Gambanteinn.

14

“This looks like the place,” I said, glancing up at the brownstone building. Three floors, the kind of compound that probably had a serviceable pool somewhere in the middle, so that the complex itself was shaped like a box around an artificially blue puddle.

Florian tested the glass door leading into the apartment. I shushed him as it rattled in its frame, but it was locked, of course. We did have one thing working for us, though. Gambanteinn’s keeper clearly couldn’t afford to live in the type of place that had a doorman, and that was one less problem for us to deal with.

“So exactly how do we get in?” Florian said, looking around, folding his arms. “I could call up some vines, and we can make our way up there,” he added, pursing his lips at one of the windows.

“Dude. That might have worked when we were trying to steal that comb from the death witch, but this ain’t it. And what would we do, clamber into the closest open window and hope for the best?” I gestured around us. “Hello. Broad daylight.”

He cast his eyes to the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was just a suggestion.” He stood there moping for a couple of seconds, then gave me an accusing glance. “So how do you propose we get in?”

I watched as a silhouette approached the glass doors, then fought to keep my smirk to myself. “Like this,” I sa

id, starting to dig into my pockets.

The door swung open just as I was turning out my left pants pocket, looking for the front door keys that weren’t there. “Damn it, Florian,” I said. “You keep doing this. Did you leave them on the counter again?”

“I said I was sorry,” Florian mumbled, kicking at the ground. He was still sulking, maybe, or he’d picked up on the ruse. Either way: good boy.

The woman just leaving the complex had enormous sunglasses on, as well as a wide-brimmed hat, and she glanced between us awkwardly as she held the door open with one hand. “It’s – it’s really no big deal,” she said. “I forget my keys too, sometimes.”

“Oh, you’re a lifesaver,” I said, stuffing my pockets back into place and giving her my hugest smile. “Thank you so much.”

She lowered her sunglasses, smiling back. “I think I’ve seen you around here before. Apartment 2B?”

With all the confidence of a lying, liar-faced liar, I stuck my chest out and grinned. “Yep. That’s me.”

I thought I could feel Florian’s eyes boring into the back of my head. “Well, we should be going,” he said, grabbing at my wrist and tugging me through the doorway.

“Aww,” the woman said, her smile even sunnier as she pushed her sunglasses back up on her face. “You guys are a cute couple.”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Florian grumbled. I followed along wordlessly as the woman left the apartment complex and let the heavy glass door swing shut.

I finally wriggled my way out of Florian’s clutches, no small feat considering how damn strong he was. I rubbed at my wrist. “Didn’t need to be so rough about it, ‘sweetheart.’”

“Ah, shut up,” he said. “Point is, we made it inside. Nice plan you had out there. Now, what apartment did you say this gambas stain was in?”

“Gambanteinn,” I said, sighing. “And it’s 2F. Right over there, up the stairs and in the corner.”

I thought that its location was especially convenient because it would afford us a little privacy. A thick fringe of overhanging palm fronds covered the view of the place, giving the apartment a lovely bit of shade from the afternoon sun. It must have been nice and cool in there. As a bonus, 2F being so out of the way meant that there was little chance of anyone hearing any commotion if we had to resort to – well, you know – breaking a few fingers, maybe some faces. Just in case.

I led the way up the stairs, acting as naturally as I could, like I’d been up those steps a hundred times before, like I owned the place – or at least rented the corner one-bedroom. What I’d forgotten to consider, though, was how we were actually going to break in. Never mind that 2F was in a corner. We couldn’t just go smashing the door down. Everyone would notice.

“Push a credit card into the slot,” Florian whispered. “You’re supposed to be able to jimmy doors open that way.”