Sin & Chocolate (Demigod of San Francisco 1)

“You’re the one with the question.” I motioned for Daisy to capture the two twenties. “And my children need to eat. You see how big they’re getting.”

Lips curled in disdain, the woman held on to her bag with a white-knuckled grip. “Ask him—that is, if you really do see him…” My annoyance flared. “If it’s his kid. If she was pregnant when he got into that car crash.”

“Oh shit…” Daisy bit her lip.

I kept my face devoid of emotion and looked at Paul expectantly. He dropped his hands and shoulders. The guilty look returned.

“Well?” the woman asked, her bearing defiant now. She was embarrassed.

“He heard,” I said softly, “and it wasn’t your fault, what he did. It had nothing to do with you. He was the scum, not you.”

I watched her face change. Watched the emotion bleed through. Her lip started to tremble, and unshed tears shone in her eyes before she flicked her head and squared her shoulders.

She was hurting but trying to stay strong. Her embarrassment here was probably echoed in her social group. Man, that sucked.

“It’s mine,” Paul said, remorse dripping through each soggy word. “I thought we were careful. I always used protection. I never meant to hurt—”

“Can it, Paul, you lying, cheating, shithead bastard.” I held up my hand to him.

Knowing crossed the woman’s eyes. Her shoulders slumped. I nodded slowly.

Pain creased the lines on her forehead and between her brows. Her back threatened to bow from the heaviness on her shoulders. Her bearing, once purposeful and arrogant, crumpled into something frail.

“He was slime,” I said without thinking. “He was. And he knows it. He knew it when he stalked through the crowd to you. But listen to me…” Her eyes inched up to find mine, the strength in them gone. She was an asshole to magical people, but I still didn’t want her to go through life feeling worthless. I couldn’t, in good conscience, let someone suffer without trying to help. “When you thought of him, he came. When you called, he was pulled to you. He is attached to you. So whatever he was doing with that—likely small—dick of his”—Paul flinched, the no-good, rotten…—“his heart still belonged to you, for what it’s worth. He didn’t deserve you, but in his mind, you were his and he was yours.”

Her eyes held mine like a lifeline. She drank in every word.

“You have two choices,” I continued. “You can go home and call him again and then burn some of his stuff so he can see he’s definitely dead, or I can send him out of the world of the living. He’s ready to go, I can see it. Either way, he won’t be here much longer.”

“I need…” A stray tear broke free and rolled down her flushed cheek. “I need to burn his stuff?”

“No. You can just show him his death certificate or something, if you want. I just figured you’d want to burn something of his. I mean…I would. I’d create a bonfire out of that shit.”

“Just…” She shook her head and stood slowly. “Just send him away.”

“Sure. Any last words for him—” I held up my hand for Paul again. “Not you, dickface. You speak when you’re spoken to. You forfeited your right to niceties.”

She stared at me for a long time, and I thought she’d ask why he’d done it. Living or dead, it didn’t matter. Everyone always wanted to know why when they were cheated on. But she just shook her head.

“Since the car accident two years ago, all I’ve thought about is what I would say, what I would do, if I saw him again.” She shrugged. “He’s gone. We can’t work on it. We can’t fix this. He’s gone.” A tear wobbled at the edge of her eye. “I have to move on.”

Without another word, she walked away through the crowd, almost a phantom herself. It would take her a long time to recover, but at least now she could heal. That was the main thing. Hopefully someday she’d meet someone who was worth it. And hopefully this experience would make her stop being such a Chester asshole.

Paul watched her go, fading by the moment.

“I’d burn your shit all day long,” I said to him, crossing my arms. “All day long.”

“Totally,” Daisy agreed.

20

Alexis

By the time full night had fallen, the freak show was buzzing. Crowds of people milled around the various tents or stalls, all splendidly arrayed with decorations and hanging canopies. Colorful signs advertised the best seer on the West Coast (quite a few people boasted that unproven accolade) or the best cup of coffee in the world. Non-cracked crystal balls held prominent spots on some of the tables, while other tables had a cleared space for smoking cauldrons.

Some patrons smiled and laughed as they toured what to them were various attractions. Others stalked the grounds with grim determination, on a quest or desiring something specific.

“Clearly we need a sign,” Mordecai said to Daisy.

The two had been watching the other vendors with acute focus, trying to learn business tricks that would help me rake in more money. And while it was cute, they didn’t understand that doing better at this job meant I would actually have to do the job more, and I was already at my peak level of annoyance.

More people than ever before had sought me out tonight. Usually I’d get one or two when I came out here, but in the last few hours I’d had a nearly constant stream of clients. And none of them were tight-fisted! I’d quote a price, sometimes purposely on the high side to make them go away, and they’d cough it up. If hearing what their ghosts had to say wasn’t so taxing on my anxiety, I’d be over the moon about the money.

“A sign, and a real table. Like…what is with the TV trays, you know?” Daisy said to Mordecai, watching a woman with an elaborate setup next to us wave her arms over her bandana-clad head as she danced to silent music. She was apparently trying to call the spirits. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t working.

“Alexis could do with a bit more theatrics, too,” Mordecai responded. “That woman constantly has people at her booth.”

“That woman is a bit cheap, though. Fifteen dollars?” Daisy tapped her chin. “If you didn’t have a steady stream of people at that rate, would you even make enough to justify your time?”

“You would if you’re a hack. Like that woman,” I muttered. “She probably doesn’t have nightmares, though. Bully for her.”

“I think we have to treat Alexis like she’s a niche market.” Mordecai scratched his head through his beanie, clearly ignoring me. “Even if she put on an act, she wouldn’t be able to pull off good customer service.”

“Good point,” Daisy said. “We need people who are willing to pay more for quality, and also look past a truly atrocious bedside manner.”

“Which they will, if their questions are answered.” Mordecai sucked his teeth. “So far, it seems like people have received quality.”

“Oh yeah. Like that younger girl wanting to ask her pop-pop where he hid his will so the family would stop fighting? Oh my God, that nearly broke my heart.” Daisy leaned her elbow on her knee and rested her chin on her fist. “We should’ve charged her, though. Cute and sad or not cute and sad, everyone’s got to pay.”

Mordecai shook his head. “A few charity cases are good for public approval.”

I rolled my eyes and looked out at the darkened bay, barely able to see the movement of the water in the fog-shrouded moonlight.

“Here comes someone,” Daisy whispered. “And he’s hot. Lexi, fix your face. You can get a date while you’re at it.”

Fear and butterflies coursed through my middle as I spun around, terrified I’d see the familiar face that had been haunting me for the last couple days. Instead, a guy in his thirties with unruly brown hair and a pleasing smile sauntered up like he was having a wonderful time at the circus.

My breath left my mouth in a steady stream, but a tiny thread of disappointment had me stilling in unease. That was the wrong feeling to have when it came to the arrogant stranger who’d looked so thoroughly into my life. I liked to flirt with dangerous guys, but he was in a league of his own. Power, brawn, money, and information at his fingertips…he was not someone to be trifled with.

So why did I have absolutely no interest in the attractive man now sitting in front of me?

“Hey,” he said, and a cocky smile drifted up his face.

“Hi. What can I do for you?” I clasped my fingers in my lap as a strange sensation niggled at my back between my shoulder blades.

“I heard you can see dead people.” He laughed like that was hilarious.

“Oh, here we go,” Daisy mumbled. “One of these turds.”

Now you’re catching on, Daisy.

“Yes. What do you need?” I swiveled my seat to face him, but when I sat down, I glanced right as the strange feeling increased, spreading across my right shoulder and then down my arm. Awareness bit into my skin like stinging nettles.

“Something is…out there,” Mordecai said, and his voice cracked with puberty.

“Oh yeah?” The man in front of me followed our gazes with a crooked smile. The crowd drifted past like usual, no one so much as glancing my way. The client scooted his chair up a little, trying to get closer to me. “What was it?” His smile showered me with appreciation and his eyes sparkled in invitation.