“It’s not just the rich,” she says. “It’s the magical rich. Never forget the magical part.”
“That’s right. You’re a luck worker.”
Her lips quirk. “Even I forget that. Easy to do when I don’t ever feel particularly lucky.”
She could say that wryly. Ironically. One look at Theodora, and you can spot the life-lottery winning ticket, dangling like a clothing tag she forgot to snip off. But there’s none of that in her voice. No “woe is me,” either, the whine of a person who has privilege and can’t see it. She says it, and then flushes, as if embarrassed, and waves it off.
“Enough of that,” she says. “Obviously I am lucky. Like Aiden. We’re just trapped in a family tradition that should have died out centuries ago. The problem is that when something works, you keep doing it. Arranged marriages have worked, financially, and that is all that matters. I don’t want this any more than Aiden does. I just need to talk to him so we can work it out.”
“I’ll make sure he calls.”
“Thank you.” She’s turning to leave when she spots the open box, reaches in and takes out a Magic 8 Ball. She smiles at it. “I remember when these were a huge fad at my school. Fourth grade, I think? I wanted one so badly, but my nanny thought they were demonic.”
“Take that one.”
She reaches for her purse.
“On the house,” I say. “I apparently have a lot of them.”
“Thank you.” She opens the small box, takes out the ball and gives it a shake. Then she lifts it to read the message. “Reply hazy. Try again.” Her smile turns wry. “Story of my life.” She glances at me. “Thank you, Kennedy. We’ll work this out. I’ll make sure of it.”
I nod and watch as she leaves.
Chapter Sixteen
Sixteen
It’s barely one, and I feel as if the sun should start dropping any moment. I’ve checked my phone a hundred times, hoping to hear from Mercy, while beginning to suspect I won’t. The immortals may not be actual gods, but they’ve been called that for so long they seem to believe their own hype. I’ve been caught between them before, and this feels very familiar. Even the best of them can be careless with mortals.
Someone used me to get to get their attention. I’ve done my part, and now Mercy and Athene have swooped in and set me free. That should be good, but I feel as if I’ve been abandoned on the sidelines after getting tackled by the quarterback. Mercy and Athene picked me up, set me off the field and continued on, and I hate it.
Every time the bell rings, I jump. When I’m in the back and hear it, I bolt through, only to see Connolly enter.
“Hey,” I say.
He glances over his shoulder, as if hoping that less-than-enthusiastic greeting is for someone else.
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m glad to see you. It’s just been a very long day.”
For both of us, I bet. I’m going to need to speak to him about Theodora. Not yet, though. I just want a few minutes to shelve the personal drama and focus on the more interesting one.
“I was hoping you were Mercy,” I say. “Possibly even Athene, but having now met Athene . . . It’s true what they say about never meeting your heroes. I expected the kick-ass-cool goddess of wisdom and war, and I got the immortal equivalent of an IRS agent.”
When he only blinks, I say, “So did I mention I met Athene? And Mercy?” I walk over to the door, stick up the clock sign and set it for one-thirty.
“Come in the back,” I say. “I have a story to tell.”
* * *
“They believe they destroyed the paintings?” Connolly says when I finish. “All four paintings?”
“I may need you to confirm what you experienced—ghost girl flying at you and so on. Even Mercy seems to think I might have been imagining it.”
His face hardens. “The more I hear about both these two, the less I want to deal with them.”
“Gods, right?” I push back on my stool. “Before you got here, I was telling myself I should be happy they’ve sidelined me. But I feel . . .”
“You feel used,” he says. “Perhaps they weren’t the ones who used you, but they’re all treating you like a messenger service.”
“Well, I am descended from Mercury. The original messenger.”
I reach for my half-eaten protein bar.
“Please don’t tell me that’s your lunch,” he says.
“Nope, I also had a cupcake, though I mostly just ate the icing.”
He plucks the bar from my hand. “Let me find you something better.”
* * *
We’re walking down Bishop Street. Ellie appears from nowhere to wander along behind us, as if she just happens to be going the same way.
“You know I’m getting food, don’t you?” I call back to her. “FYI, it’s not frozen custard.”
She pretends not to know I’m talking to her. Or not to care. She’ll care, though, when I get myself a big salad and she’s left staring at a sprig of kale.
We end up choosing a tiny takeout that specializes in crab, clams and crystals. The crab cakes and chowder are amazing. The less said about the crystals, the better.
There’s still a line from the lunch crowd, and we join it. Ellie sniffs the air and starts winding around Connolly’s legs.
“Wrong person,” I say. “He’s not giving you anything. You should know that by now.”
“I learned my lesson with lacerations,” he says.
“Hear that? Once scratched, twice shy. No crab for you.” I glance at him and lower my voice. “Though if you do want to win her over, a few nibbles of crab would do the trick. She’ll be your bestie for life . . . or at least an hour or two.”
“I don’t believe in bribes.”
“Says the guy who just gave me a carton of Magic 8 balls.”
“That was purely a safety measure, as I said. Not at all because I realize I have behaved poorly and am rather desperate to get back in your good graces.” He looks down at Ellie, still winding around his ankles. “You will get no crab from me, Elohssa. I will continue to ignore you, thereby reversing our relationship dynamic. Instead of me reaching out to you and being rebuffed, I shall do that to you, until you are so desperate for my notice that you surrender.”
“Ah,” I say. “You’re that guy. Word of advice from someone who’s been there. It can backfire spectacularly. Tenth grade. His name was Charlie. The cutest ginger in town. Gorgeous green eyes. Bit of a tomcat, but . . .” I shrug. “I was in love. Penny Gray convinced me to do the ‘ignoring him’ trick. So I did. Pretended I didn’t see him no matter how hard he tried to get my attention.”
“And . . .”
“Penny totally set me up. Next thing you know, he’s following her everywhere. She took him home to meet her family, and that’s where it all fell apart. He threw her over for her twelve-year-old sister.”
Connolly’s eyes widen.
“Yep, he also bit her dad. Pissed on the carpet. Coughed up a hairball in the sink. Charlie was bad news.”