So Much Bull, page 10
part #1 of Penny Post Myth Agent Series
My brain tussled with my body. The smarter of the two—my body—flailed at the door. It knew snakes that size were terrible news, whether they were huggers or biters, and that guns were bad if you were on the wrong end.
In my head, things were getting philosophical. The part of my brain responsible for my insatiable curiosity wanted to know what kind of creature had snakes for legs. Was her appetite human or snake? Did she cook actual food or flop down on the couch to binge watch Netflix with a bucket of mice for snacks? How much money did she save not having to buy razors for her legs? Did she moisturize?
I threw my weight against the door but it was an innie not an outtie.
Snake Legs fired.
Drywall exploded above my head. On all fours, I scooted backwards and lunged at the door, hoping I could reach the handle before Snake Legs fired again. She burst out of her dress. It was snakes all the way down. Only her head and arms were human. What I’d mistaken for a fondness for sampling her own wares was just more snake bunched together and covered with a dress. Talk about false advertising.
The shotgun fired a second time. The ceiling began to snow.
“You no ask about minotavros!”
“Sorry!”
“You no ask! I tell nothing!”
“Can you stop shooting? I’m a paying customer!”
She fired again. This time the shotgun swung low and blasted through the refrigerated cabinet, splattering me with cold whipped cream and custard.
I felt rather than heard the door swing open. Warm air gushed in. Someone grabbed me by the ponytail and hauled me out just as Snake Legs was waving her shotgun around, gearing up to miss her target—me—again. Pain tore through my scalp, radiating downwards. Tears bubbled down my cheeks. My heart was freaking out, hammering blindly in all directions.
“Run!” my rescuer said. He let go of my hair. I bolted without looking back. “Not that way!” he yelled, exasperated. “Get in your car!”
I pivoted and hurled myself at the driver’s side door, but the seat was already taken by none other than Luke Remis.
BANG. The cake shop’s front window exploded outwards, showering the pavement with glass and bits of wedding cake.
I yanked open the rear driver’s side door and threw my body across the backseat.
Luke hit the gas. We shot backwards out of the parking lot. Horns honked. An SUV slammed on its brakes a split second before impact. We jolted to a stop.
Snake Legs appeared in the broken window. She scratched her tight curls before returning to her place behind the counter.
Luke hit the gas. Less force this time. He waved to the SUV driver—using all his fingers and thumb—and we were on the move again.
“What the fuck were you doing?” he demanded.
“Buying kataifi. Which I didn’t get, by the way.”
“Like hell you were. Something you said or did pissed off the dracaenae.”
“You mean the mustachioed snake lady?”
“Aphrodisia. That’s her name. She owns the Hellas Bakery.”
My teeth clacked together. Shivers rolled through my body in waves. Now that the adrenalin was wearing off, the weirdness and the danger to which I had exposed myself set in.
Luke’s gaze met mine in the rearview mirror.
“You’re an idiot,” he said.
“Kiss my ass.”
“Lady, you’re too much of an idiot for me to kiss anything of yours ever again.”
“Good! I wouldn’t want those man-whore lips of yours touching me anyway.”
All I could see in the rearview mirror were his rising eyebrows. They had an issue with my description. “Man-whore?”
“If the crate of condoms fit.”
“Sounds like you care about my love life.”
“Pull over,” I barked.
“There’s nowhere to pull over!”
“Pull over anyway.”
He jerked the steering wheel and cruised to a stop. His finger jabbed the hazard lights.
I got out and yanked open the driver’s side door. “Get out.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Get. Out. Which word don’t you understand? Need it in a different language? Okay. Vyes exo. Want me to be less polite?”
“Show me what you’ve got.”
“Gamisou.”
“You offering?”
I slammed the door and climbed back in.
Luke Remis stabbed the hazard lights and melded seamlessly back into the traffic flow. “My ride is back at the bakery. I left it there to save your ass.”
“I didn’t ask you to save anything!” Since he wasn’t about to give up the steering wheel, I scrambled over the console and plopped down in the passenger side. “Where are we going?”
“To find me another ride, then you need to go home and call Nikki and tell her you quit. You’re a fucking menace and a disaster all rolled into one. The boss is out of his mind for hiring you in the first place.”
Ha. As if that was going to happen. Ooh, look. Cream and custard. I scooped a blob of custard off my leg. Delicious.
“Snake Legs—what did you call her?—freaked out when I mentioned the Minotaur.”
His jaw hardened. When he glanced over at me, his eyes were flat and dark with rage. I’d never been scared of Luke Remis in my life, but right now he looked like he wanted to shake me until I snapped.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was just trying to do my job!”
“So you thought harassing the mother of a murder victim was the way to do it?”
“What?” I deflated. “I didn’t know! She’s the Minotaur’s mother? Wait—if she’s the mother, where did the bull part come from?”
“Not the Minotaur.”
“Then who? Or what?”
“Aphrodisia’s daughter.”
“So Aphrodisia’s daughter was murdered, and the Minotaur fits into this how?”
Luke looked uncomfortable. We had crossed back into downtown Salem, heading south. “He ate her.”
Shock stunned me into silence. Temporarily. “The Minotaur ate her?” I snorted and thumped my head against the headrest a couple of times, hoping the movement would shake some sense into the situation. “He ate a half-snake girl?”
“Her adult, fully human daughter.”
“How’s that work? Wait, don’t tell me. Wait, tell me. Wait—”
“Aphrodisia’s husband is human. Their daughter was human from top to bottom.”
“Why did the Minotaur eat her?”
Nothing.
“Did you kill the Minotaur?”
Luke’s jaw clenched tighter. He didn’t answer. He kept up the silence all the way to the public library, where he pulled into the parking garage.
“The library? Really?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, I didn’t kill the Minotaur, and I need a vehicle.”
“What about the other one?”
“Wasn’t mine. Can’t have them tracking me.”
“Who? Minos’s men?”
“That’s King Minos. Biggest way to piss him off is by dropping the ‘King.’”
“Let me guess: second biggest way is by killing one of his weird kids?”
“I’m amazed.”
“That I know so much?”
He found a parking space and cut the engine. “That you know nothing.”
“Hey—”
Luke checked all the mirrors. The man was paranoid—possibly for a good reason. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m gonna find a new car—”
“Stealing from library patrons? That’s just rude. They’re readers.”
“—And you’re going to prowl the stacks for mythology books. Section 292.13. If it’s too much, start with children’s guides to Greek Mythology and work your way up. Stock up on your Percy Jackson and Lester Papadopoulous.”
Library card. Where was my library card? I dug down in my handbag for my purse. My hand brushed up against the stun gun. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about it until now. One good zap and I could truss up Luke like a Thanksgiving turkey and wheel him back to the Labyrinth Agency. I tried not to think about how I’d probably be imprisoning him indefinitely in a mythological oubliette or wherever Greek kings kept their prisoners. And I definitely didn’t think about the probability that he’d wind up tortured—or worse. Mostly I was annoyed that he kept brushing me off like I was lint.
“Huh?” I said.
“Rick Riordan. He mostly gets it right, especially the bits about the monsters. I gotta go.” He reached over to open the door.
I made my move.
ZAP.
Luke slumped in the seat.
The driver’s seat.
Damn it. Letting my anger (and, yes, greed) get the best of me was stupid. I should have wrangled him out of the car first. Ungh. Then someone might have spotted me zapping Luke.
This job was turning out to be a major pain in my butt. Yes, it was thrilling. No, I didn’t have to listen to women jabbering about people I’d never met and places I’d never been all day long. And yes, the money, when it eventually came, was amazing. But was it worth having Luke Remis passed out in my car with no way to get him out?
What now?
Think, Penny. Think.
Find a way to move him over, then restrain him in case he woke up on the way back to the office. That was the ticket.
I got out and went around to the driver’s side. Luke slumped sideways. I managed to stop his descent with my knee. Once I’d stabilized him, I pushed his top half into the passenger seat. I looked up in time to see a woman and her passel of kids heading back to their car, loaded up with books. The woman was staring—hard.
“My husband,” I lied. “He’s a diabetic. A bit of juice and he’ll be as right as rain.”
She ushered her children toward their car, glancing back nervously.
I shoved one of his feet up, bending his knee in the process, then scooted it over to the footwell. I tried my best not to notice that he smelled warm and musky, pure Luke without the cologne or aftershave. My ridiculous hormones could have found him in a dark room full of strangers. I resented their stupidity.
The second leg went over easily, his left foot joining the right in the footwell. Now I had to get his butt over the console’s hump.
I pushed my hip up against him. Shoved.
Nope. Wasn’t happening. Luke was stuck like that for the foreseeable future. No problem. I could drive with his denim-clad ass covering the console. Next I needed to secure him.
I gave him another zap for good luck, then hoofed it to the trunk to find a rope or zip ties or anything I could use to truss up a grown man like a Thanksgiving fowl. Logically I knew I didn’t make a habit of keeping items in my trunk that might be misconstrued by law enforcement if they were searching my vehicle. That didn’t stop me from hoping I’d stashed something useful there, just in case. Even a bungee cord might work.
Nothing. Only the donut, lug wrench, and basic jack in case I got a flat. Even then, I had AAA to do the tire-changing deed if necessary.
I slammed the trunk.
I was useless. Definitely not cut out for a life of apprehending runaway mythological creatures or the myth agents who policed them.
My car started up.
What the—?
Luke grinned at me from the driver’s seat. He waved, a full five-fingered thing that was a low key insult in Greek culture. In one move he was rubbing figurative crap in my face and accusing me of masturbating to a brain-mushing degree. That wasn’t true. My brain was fine.
I did the moutsa back at him.
Luke Remis laughed harder through the closed window of my freaking car.
I performed another appalling gesture, inviting him to suck a body part I didn’t have.
My window buzzed down. He made a wide enough gap to toss my handbag out.
“Go read a book,” Luke Remis said.
He hit the gas and peeled out of the parking garage, leaving me stranded at the library, covered in cream and custard.
CHAPTER 9
Every woman needs one ride-or-die friend who drives a minivan and always keeps a steady supply of juice boxes and Goldfish snacks. For me, that friend was Lena.
“Get in,” my best friend called out through the rolled down window. “I managed to escape without the kids. Well, not counting the stowaway. Let’s go find some drugs and get super high.”
“Can’t.” I held up my stack of mythology books. “I have homework and you’re knocked up.”
Lena made a horrified face. “Ugh, I wish I’d known being an adult sucked as much as being a teenager—but with more bills. What kind of asshole gave you homework?”
“Luke Remis.”
She gawked at me for the longest time, until I was sure she’d frozen in place. I struggled into the minivan and waved my hand in front of her face.
“Please tell me that’s euphemism for his dick.”
“No, it’s literal homework. This is it. No dick whatsoever. Unless you’re counting the nudie pictures of gods, dudes, and other creatures. Then yes, I’m about to be drowning in penis.”
She cranked up the A/C and exited the parking garage. “Please explain to me how, exactly, Luke Remis came to give you homework that’s not his middle leg.”
“It’s a really long story with me getting shot at and Luke rescuing me. Then it all went bad when I zapped him with my new stun gun and he stole my car.”
She hit the brakes. “You’ve got a stun gun? I want one. I feel like my family would take me seriously if I could stun them. Right now, I talk until I’m blue in the face. Nobody pays attention to mama until she starts screaming.”
“Yiayia wants one, too.”
We both made a “yikes” face. Lena crossed herself.
“Are you going to do it?”
“The homework?”
“Ha! No. You’re definitely gonna do that or you wouldn’t have checked out all those books.” She elbowed me. “Are you gonna bone Luke Remis again?”
“He stole my car.”
“And your virginity.”
“I’m pretty sure I gave him that on purpose.”
Lena dropped me at home then peeled away while yelling, “I’m going to Target! By myself! For an hour! If the police call you looking for me, tell them I need me-time.”
Boy, being a mom seemed like it was hard work. It made getting shot at feel like a walk in the park.
With my arms loaded up with books, I tried to sneak around the side of the house and upstairs to my apartment, but the neighborhood watch was on high alert.
“Here is my girl!” Yiayia called out. Her face was soft and wrinkled like the syrup-drenched pastry on galaktoboureko—custard pie. She pressed gummy kisses on my cheeks and went back to glaring at Grandpa, who was picking his teeth with a toothpick and licking the bits off. He gestured at my sagging arms.
“Are those books?”
“Bravo,” Yiayia said. “He knows what are books. Next we work on animals and numbers. Soon he will be a big boy. But he will always need diapers.”
Grandpa settled back and smoothed the Kiss My Grits t-shirt over his belly. “Forget about the books. You know what you need?”
“A husband,” Yiayia said.
“A husband,” he said.
Their gazes snapped to each other. Glares were exchanged. Then there was movement at the end of the street and they were suddenly on high alert. Only thing missing was the yapping. I used the opportunity to make a getaway before they realized it was just the mailman.
Upstairs, my place was quiet and dark. I shoved open the living room curtains to let light in, then I closed them again because it highlighted the dust bunnies. I needed to clean.
Later.
Right now I had work to do, starting not with the assigned homework, but following up on Yellow Chucks’ maybe-tip.
Probably I should have reported my car stolen, too. Taught Luke a lesson by throwing the cops at him. He stole my car. He abandoned me at the library. Now how was I supposed to get around? It wasn’t much but the Honda was my car, free and clear. What if he crashed it? What if he dumped it to find another vehicle and left it for someone else to steal, like a chain letter on wheels?
My body screamed for sugar. Too bad I’d left my kataifi at the Hellas Bakery and I’d cleaned the custard and cream off my body and clothes in the library restroom. I contemplated calling my bank, but a pang of empathy kept me off my phone. Aphrodisia, Snake Legs, had lost a daughter to the Minotaur. Could be I’d whip out a shotgun and shoot, too, if I were in her shoes. Not that they made shoes for snake tails. What had Luke called her? A dracaenae. I grabbed a mythology book off the pile and pecked through the index until I found the relevant entry. I flipped to the page. There was Aphrodisia, all right. Or at least one of her kinfolk. Woman from the waist up. Snake from the bottom down. Aphrodisia had more snake in the torso, though, and human arms. A different book told me there were a few variations on the woman and snake combo. I guess it depended on how the genes expressed themselves.
I shoved the books back on the coffee table and reached for my laptop. I clicked to YouTube and searched for Waterfront Park in Salem, restricting the filters to videos from this past week only.
One video popped up.
My hands were cold and shaking slightly as I clicked PLAY. This whole thing felt like I was fighting to shove an octopus into a bag after I’d already screwed up by letting it escape in the first place.
Waterfront Park appeared. Slightly out of focus, and obviously captured using a potato, but very definitely Salem’s park. There was no mistaking the big Earth. A few seconds in, the camera moved a fraction and the Minotaur appeared. Shock sucked the breath out of me. This wasn’t my first encounter with the half-man, half-bull so I shouldn’t have been breathless and covered in cold sweat. Seeing the man-bull dead was like looking at a prop. The corpse could have easily been crafted out of latex and whatever else expert movie magic folks used to create their amazing effects.
