“Goddamn it,” Daniel snapped. “They didn’t need to kill Fred.”
I kept watching until the end of the report. Baldr reveled in the spotlight, radiating charm and showing the exact amount of anger and determination that would win him many supporters within the human community. Big, bad Baldr sent by Avalon to help find these criminals.
When the newscast was over, a silence lingered over the room. It ended when Antonio stormed out. I followed him and found him outside on a bench next to a koi pond.
“So this has been a bad few days,” I said, taking a seat beside him.
“They didn’t need to destroy Duke’s. I worked hard on that place. I put everything into it. It was good.” Antonio sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I failed my friend. I named it after Duke Wilson. A friend of mine in the Rangers. He was killed in the explosion that took my leg. We’d talked about creating a diner together once we got out.”
“You’ll rebuild,” I said. “You’ll rebuild it so grand and large that God will look down and say, Damn, that’s where I want to eat.”
Antonio laughed. “If my mom heard you say that, she’d smack you around the head.”
I smiled. “It’ll be okay, man,” I told him. “It doesn’t look like it now, but it will get better.”
“This Baldr always been an ass?” he asked.
“Yep. Only met him once, but he tried to kill me, tried to kill one of my best friends, kidnapped and hurt another of my friends, and basically was a giant dick weasel of epic proportions.”
“Dick weasel?” Antonio asked.
I shrugged. “I was thinking about a friend of mine who would think that was really funny.”
“He another sorcerer?” he asked.
“No, he’s half-man, half-fox. With a real interest in bladed weapons and a need to tell everyone around him to fuck off on a regular basis.”
Antonio stared at me for several seconds, presumably trying to decide if I was lying or not. “You have a weird life,” he said eventually.
“You have no idea,” Medusa said from behind me. “You mind if I talk to Nate for a second?”
Antonio nodded and stood before pausing. “Does that mean that all mythological beings are real?”
“Most,” I said. “A lot are dead or very different to how you might think of them.”
“So the Aztec gods?”
I nodded. “There are some who are alive, yes. Some work within Avalon, and more than a few died defending their homes when the Spanish came.”
“My mom, she had an old picture of Mictecacihuatl that she used to put out on the Day of the Dead festivals. She said it had been passed down through the generations of her family. Supposedly given to my great-great-grandmother by Mictecacihuatl herself.”
“Mictecacihuatl is real,” Medusa said. “Haven’t seen her in a long time, but she’s an interesting woman.”
Antonio shook his head. “This is the weirdest day I’ve ever had.”
“Antonio, why don’t you talk to Isis about getting your story out there?” Medusa said. “She has a few contacts with reporters who aren’t happy churning out Avalon-sponsored bullshit on a daily basis. I think it might be good to get the real story out there or at least let some people know that Avalon are aligning themselves with a bunch of Nazis. I’m sure that’ll go down badly with the vast majority of people.”
“Will do,” Antonio said and left Medusa and me alone. He muttered to himself about how weird everything was as he walked away, which caused Medusa to smile.
“I think it’s going to take some getting used to,” Medusa said.
“He’ll get there,” I said. “I meant to ask you when we were upstairs, but how likely is it that someone here will know my face?”
“Slim to zero,” Medusa said. “Most of the people here are humans. It’s not like Nate Garrett had a lot of photos of himself all over the place, although I think more than a few will know the name Hellequin.”
“Hellequin is gone.”
“He was gone before,” Medusa said. “Then he came back.”
“He’s now synonymous with terrorism and the murders of hundreds of thousands of innocent people. Avalon made sure that name was tarnished for good. I think Arthur really believed that if he took everything from me, even my name, it would make me easier to crack.”
“Well, then no one here will know you as you. The only nonhumans here are the security and people who work on the top floor. This is a business, after all.” Medusa sat beside me. “I have to say, it was odd seeing you alive. I was never a fan of Avalon, and we didn’t always see eye to eye, you and me, but I always thought you were honest and gave everyone a fair shake. I was sad to hear of your death.”
“I wish I hadn’t stayed dead so long,” I said.
“I’ve been told I’m not allowed to tell you how certain people from your old life are doing, because Chris is worried you’d arm yourself and go all vigilante on your enemies, getting yourself killed in the process.”
“Apparently, I’m a flight risk.”
“Baldr will eventually discover that you’re alive,” she said. “What happens then?”
“Hopefully by then I’ll have my magic back and I can kick the shit out of him,” I told her.
“Chris worries about you,” she said. “Hades asked him to take care of you, to keep you safe, and you go get yourself in a fight with a bunch of Nazis. Who, I’d like to say, I thought we’d gotten rid of the last time.”
“Yeah, they’re the chlamydia of hate groups.”
Medusa laughed. “That is certainly one way of putting it. I came here to ask you something, though. About Diana.”
Diana was a very old friend of mine. She was half-werebear and probably the greatest warrior I’d ever met. At one point she’d been considered a goddess by the Romans, although she rarely brought it up.
“Last I heard, she was good,” I said. “But that was two years ago.”
Medusa nodded nonchalantly. “Good, good. Did she ever, you know, mention me?”
I tried very hard not to smile. “You still have a thing for Diana?”
“A thing?” Medusa shook her head unconvincingly, making one of the snakes hiss.
“Your snakes, they give away your emotions,” I said. “How long were you together?”
“A few centuries, and then she wanted to work for Elaine and Avalon, and I . . . didn’t. We went our separate ways. That was about four hundred years ago. But every now and again, we’d meet up, and flames would be rekindled. But I haven’t seen her in a long time. I . . . miss her.”
“And you’re too stubborn to just contact her, just like she’s too stubborn to contact you?” I asked.
“I am not stubborn,” Medusa said. “The word is . . . independent.”
“Stubborn,” I said with a slight laugh. “The word is stubborn.”
Medusa sighed. “Seeing you today just made me realize I haven’t seen Diana in such a long time. And seeing how she now hates Avalon, too, I figured it was no longer a sticking point between us.”