We pulled up to the grand, columned entrance of the Surfrider. It had the look of a palace to it with a rectangular, stone canopy that extended over its roundabout driveway all the way to the sidewalk and a front terrace bordered by delicate arches. Palm trees stood in strategic positions to either side of the canopy, like soldiers standing at attention. As we pulled up, one of the valets ran down to open my door even though we wouldn't be using his services.
“Welcome to the Moana Surfrider!” The valet said enthusiastically.
“Thank you.” I took the hand he offered and climbed out while Sin paid our cab fare. “We're here for afternoon tea.”
“That would be at our Veranda restaurant.” He pointed into the hotel toward the left.
“Thank you,” Sin said to the valet as he took my hand. “I think I remember the way.”
Sin escorted me through the luxurious reception area—my hand wrapped around his arm—and to the left where the Veranda restaurant was. Our hostess led us out onto a long, wooden veranda—well, of course—and seated us at the table on the end; a prime spot that gave us a glorious view of Waikiki Beach.
“Thank you so much; this is perfect,” Sin drawled to the hostess.
“My pleasure,” she stammered and hurried off, casting backward glances at Sin.
I chuckled under my breath; my heart lightened by the sunshine, the view, and their interaction. It had been awhile since I'd gone out among the humans with a god escort. The last time had been when we were tracking the Finns. We'd gone for tea then too, at a Japanese tea house in Portland, Oregon, and all of my men were with me. All except Arach. I recalled how Toby couldn't understand why the waitresses were fawning over him. He's one of the few gods I know who is completely unaware of his appeal. My smile faded slightly.
“What's wrong?” Sin asked.
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Memories. It's going to take me awhile to go numb to them.”
“Hopefully, you won't have to.” He took my hand and squeezed it.
“Hopefully,” I agreed and sighed deeply. “But it's not likely, is it?”
“It's a little soon to throw in the towel, Godhunter,” Sin chided me. “Now, remember why we're here. We need to focus on something else for a little while. Let's try to do that. We won't get a clear mind if we keep filling it with anxiety. Now, breathe deeply of that salt air; it'll help.”
“You're right,” I agreed and picked up my menu as I took a deep breath. “Hey, there's one good thing to being human again.”
“What's that?”
“I can feel the effects of alcohol.” I grinned at him. “I think I'll have a mimosa with my tea!”
“Hey, don't go getting drunk on me,” he teased me. “I don't want to have to carry you home.”
“I think I can handle one mimosa,” I scoffed.
An hour later, I was reconsidering my position on one mimosa. My tolerance must have gone back to baby status when Marduk screwed with me. That one glass had made me tipsy. Not drunk, but not sober either. It turned out to be a good thing, though. A warm feeling of relaxation slipped through me and numbed some of my pain. I had to stop myself from ordering another drink. Instead, I focused on the gentle crashing of the waves on the sand and the live Hawaiian music drifting over from the stage in the courtyard. Sounds of home and normalcy. Life going on despite the shattering of my world.
Some people might have found that depressing—that life continues no matter how bad you feel—but I found it reassuring. A lot had been placed on my shoulders, and I'd half expected the world to explode along with my destiny. But here it was, business as usual, despite the damage to my star. It looked as if I hadn't been as important as everyone thought. And damn if I didn't like that.
Sin kept up a light banter, keeping my thoughts from wandering to sadness, and I was actually able to enjoy myself. After eating lots of little sandwiches, tarts, and tiny scones, we headed out to the street to catch another cab. I wanted to go to my actual home.
“How did you know about tea at the Surfrider?” I asked Sin after we were on our way over the mountain to Kaneohe.
“I've traveled a lot.” He shrugged. “I like Hawaii. It's a bit crowded but beautiful and you can't beat the restaurants.”
“Nearly as good as the ones in Bahrain.” I winked at him.
“Nearly.” He grinned back. Then he sobered. “Are you sure you're ready for this?”
“What? To go home?”
He nodded.
“It's the only thing I want to do right now.”
“Then we'll do it together.” Sin held his hand out to me, and I took it with a bright smile.
Chapter Thirty-Three
We pulled up before my little blue house in Kaneohe, and I nearly cried. This, at least, had stayed the same. The yard was a bit overgrown but still pretty, and the scent of ripe oranges fluttered over to me in welcome. I got out as Sin paid the cabbie again—I was racking up quite the tab—and headed up the driveway to the front steps.
“Nice Jaguar,” Sin commented as he climbed the cement steps beside me.
I glanced over my shoulder at the carport and saw that the wind had pulled my car cover off, exposing the Jaguar that I'd taken as spoils after I'd killed my first god. It sounds more mercenary than it was.
“Thanks,” I murmured as I felt beneath the metal railing and amid the overgrown branches of a flowering bush for the
