Rise of the Blood

“What was that?” he asked.

“I’m trying to brain myself.”

“You sure you’re equipped for that?”

“Some boyfriend you are.”

“At least I don’t make headlines with other men.” Wouldn’t that be something?

“You knew all about that dinner. I called you from the porch, remember, asking if murder was still a crime.”

“You don’t look ready to kill him here.”

But I could tell he wasn’t seriously concerned. He had far bigger worries.

The second we hung up, my buzzer sounded again. “E! News on line one,” Jesus said gleefully.

“I thought you took care of that.”

“Honey, that was line two. Some rinky-dink San Fernando Station. This is E!”

“Tell them they have the wrong lady.”

“Chica, I’m fairly certain they have better facial recognition software than the LAPD. I don’t think they’re going to believe me.”

“You’re an actor…act. Make it convincing.”

He huffed. If E! had been calling for Jesus, I was sure he wouldn’t be dodging the call. I just hoped they wouldn’t offer him enough to sell me out. Maybe I ought to rethink that bonus he kept hinting about.

Lines two and three lit up again while he was dealing with E! . I was considering my escape when Jesus’s voice suddenly rose, and I heard his composure slip.

“Come again?”

There was a pause as he listened to the person on the other end of the line before he sputtered, “Well, you…you just… Hello? Hello?”

I didn’t worry too much until Jesus flew into my office, ignoring the still-ringing phones. He never did that, lest it be his big break calling, unable to reach him on his cell. He looked pale, his eyes were wide and, even more shocking, I didn’t think he was acting.

“Tori,” he said. Not boss lady or chica or even his signature sniff. “I think we’ve just received our first death threat.”

It wouldn’t be my first threat, actually, but I hadn’t seen fit to worry him.

“We?” I asked, more curious than alarmed. I already knew that Zeus and Poseidon would probably come gunning for me. It was actually fairly considerate of them to issue a warning. Maybe Armani could trace the call.

“Well, you, really, but who knows who he might go through to get to you?” He clutched his hands to his chest. “I’m too young to die.”

I ignored the histrionics. “Calm down. What did the caller say?”

“Well,” he said, rolling his eyes to the heavens as if it helped him remember, “the connection was horrible, mind you, so I didn’t catch everything, but the gist of it was, ‘Tell her there’s nowhere she can run that we can’t find her’.”

I blew out a puff of air. “You call that a death threat?” I’d had worse. The god of the dead, now there’s a man who knew how to issue a threat. As for Zeus and Poseidon, why bother warning me? Wouldn’t it be easier to ambush me if I wasn’t on my guard? Not that I wouldn’t be after their prison break. But there had to be more to it. To convince me there was no point in protective custody? They couldn’t know I’d already come to the same conclusion. Reverse psychology? Wanting me running scared? In the end, it didn't matter. I was going to do what I was going to do. I’d have to fight them either way, I might as well do it on my own terms.

“What would you call it?” Jesus asked.

I passed on that one.

“Call Armani. Let him know about the call in case he can track it.”

I picked up the phone myself.

“Who are you calling?” he asked.

“Apollo. You happy now? I’m pretty sure that call was about a case we worked on together. I may want to kill him myself, but he deserves to know I won’t be the only one gunning.”

“Be gentle with him,” Jesus said, leaving and closing the door behind him like I might actually want privacy while I gave Apollo hell. Because that’s what I was planning to unleash.

But all I got was his voicemail.

“Kali mera. Please leave me a message. If this is the press, lose this number. If this is Tori, I’m on it.”

Well, so much for that, except that he’d now given my name to anyone who didn’t already have it. I left him a message about Zeus and Poseidon. I didn’t bother reading him the riot act. He was one step ahead of me there. If I was lucky, which didn’t seem terribly likely given my morning so far, he really was on it and all I’d have to worry about was two escaped gods with a grudge.

Lucky me.

Chapter Two

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Lucky for me your Pappous has a ’stigmatism.”

—Yiayia

An hour later I hesitated in the entrance to Chi Chi’s, the upscale spa Christie insisted on taking me to for wedding prep. I gave it one last try. “You do realize that the last time I set foot in one of these places, someone got killed.”

Christie, my BFF and absolute polar opposite, gave me a look. “Your point being?”

“I’m just saying, there’s precedent.”

“So you want me to believe you’re superstitious about spas?”

I shrugged. “It could happen again, you don’t know. Might even be me who snaps.”

I wasn’t a mani-pedi sort of girl. I wasn’t any sort of girl. Somehow I’d managed to achieve total womanhood without any of the L.A. rites of passage—no wax on or wax off, no shellacking, seaweed wrapping or other creative forms of torture in the name of beauty. I believed firmly in “don’t file what ain’t broke”.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she said wryly. “Tori, you’re going to be a bridesmaid in a destination wedding in one of the most romantic places on Earth. What kind of friend would I be if I let you go with raggedy- ass nails and pores the size of champagne bubbles?”

“Champagne bubbles, really?” I asked, pleased.

“Honey, that’s not a good thing.”

My smile fell. “I did mention there’ve been death threats, right? Armani wants to put me into protective custody. I probably shouldn’t be out in public at all.”

“I thought it was Nick these days. Anyway, the man just wants you in his custody, probably with handcuffs and other restraints. Safest place for you is in public with lots of witnesses. And before you start in on the expense, don’t. Just don’t. It’s my treat.”

“But—”