Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-One
“Are there no peas?” Poppy asks, rifling through a freezer that looks like a cabinet. “I thought you were supposed to use peas?”
The Malibu house has floor-to-ceiling windows, mood lighting, three hot tubs, and a private beach. It does not, however, have peas.
“That’s raw steak,” CJ says.
Rook scrubs at his face. “That’s a myth.”
“Can I ask a question?” Ezra asks, raising his hand.
Crowlene hops across the kitchen island, her claws clicking against the marble.
“It looks worse than it is,” I say to Poppy, propping my leg on the bar chair next to me. “How about just some ice in a paper towel?”
I’ve been trying to tell them that even though bruises have bloomed across the left side of my body, my injuries are mostly healed. But it’s been nonstop chaos since Ezra and I returned to find the others pale and pacing.
Tolliver tugs at his hair, black strands slipping free of his bun. “I don’t think ice in a paper towel is going to fix falling off a building.”
“Really, Dr. Takao?” I snap. I hate the tender look of sympathy on his face. I’ve only seen it once before, and I never wanted to see it again. “Then what do you suggest? And I didn’t fall off a building, I fell inside a building.”
“He’s trying to be helpful,” Poppy mutters, still digging in the freezer. “Girl, why do you always have to be so spicy?”
“I’m not spicy!”
“Can I ask a question?”
“No, she’s right. You’re spicy.”
“I’m allowed to be spicy. I fell off a building!”
“I found peas!”
“CAN I PLEASE ASK A QUESTION?”
The room falls silent. We all turn to find Ezra still raising his hand, face red.
“Chill, dude,” CJ says. They sit slumped over the counter, fingers rubbing their temples.
Poppy puts her hand on Ezra’s. “What’s your question, baby?”
Ezra takes a deep breath and, with all the calm of someone about to jump off a cliff, says, “I take it the guy with the horns was not in costume.”
I take the frozen peas from Poppy. “Technically, that’s not a question.”
Ezra scowls. “What is this? Jeopardy!? What is the guy with the horns that attacked us for five thousand?”
“That’s not how Jeopardy! works, my dude,” Tolliver says, unzipping his bodysuit down to his navel.
I force my gaze away from his bare chest and place the peas on my thigh. Crowlene flies over and immediately tries to peck open the bag.
“It was a demon,” Poppy answers, pulling herself up onto a bar chair.
Ezra seems to have short-circuited.
“Quick rundown,” I say, counting off my fingers.
“Demons: real. Magic: real. Codex: really a grimoire. Tolliver’s chemical compounds are actually magic potions, this zombie crow is my familiar”—Crowlene clicks a few times—“oh, and the world is secretly controlled by Mafia-like organizations run by possibly, maybe members of the Greek pantheon.”
I don’t mention stuff about the Afterlife because, you know, baby steps and all that.
Ezra nods, eyes glazed. “Okay…Okay…I’m going to go sit down, or vomit.”
Rook pulls a small trash can from under the sink and hands it to him. Ezra clutches it like a security blanket and stumbles into the living room.
I clear my throat. “So. Debrief?”
Poppy throws up her hands. “You fell a hundred feet—”
“That is certainly not true,” I say.
“—into a bunch of glass—”
“That is true.”
“How are you not in need of immediate medical attention right now?”
“We’ll get to that.”
Crowlene has finally gotten the bag of peas open and is taking them out one by one to place on various parts of me. They roll to the floor in little clinks.
I sit forward and point at CJ. “First, how did you not get caught by Thea?”
Their only answer is a scowl.
“You used your telempathy, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” I can’t hold back my grin.
They sigh heavily. “I projected apathy into her head.”
“I knew it!” I throw my fist in the air and immediately regret it as pain shoots up my shoulder.
CJ’s scowl deepens. “I know how terrible it is to have emotions shoved on you, and now I’ve done that to somebody else.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Your evil aunt.”
CJ’s face flushes in something more than their normal grumpiness. Poppy rests her hand on their shoulder, but they shrug her off.
My chest tightens and not from my injuries. I’m trying to channel my inner Dante, but the fact is, he never would have gotten into this situation in the first place. He would have planned for Thea, or better yet, aborted when he saw Hecate.
I shift in my chair. “I’m sorry, CJ, for being…insensitive to your moral quandary.”
They huff, crossing their arms. “I can feel how not sorry you are.”
“Someone catch me up?” Ezra moans from an angular white sectional, head in the trash can.
“CJ can feel what other people are feeling,” Poppy calls over her shoulder.
“Oh god.” Ezra makes a gagging sound. “Sorry, CJ.”
“Your anxiety is a lot easier to manage than whatever Elle’s always got going on,” they tell him, not taking their eyes off me.
I frown. “Okay, I would really like to go back to the debriefing now.”
Tolliver leans over to CJ. “What emotions am I feeling?”
Before they can answer, I take a deep breath, and announce, “I was held captive by all five syndicates!”
That does the trick. Silence falls, and all eyes land on me. Tolliver’s mouth hangs open, Rook blanches, and CJ’s eyebrows go from angry to confused. Poppy grabs a bottle of wine out of a giant wine fridge, opens it, then makes a gesture that indicates the floor is mine.
“When I came to,” I tell them, “Adam Waring was healing my wounds.”
Tolliver’s eyes widen.
Poppy gasps.
“The Secretary of Health?” Ezra’s voice echoes from inside the trash can.
“Yeah, he’s magic, keep up,” I say.
CJ narrows their eyes. “Why am I sensing guilt from you?”
I adjust the bag of peas. “Well, this might not be the first time I’ve encountered Waring.”
Rook straightens, eyes wide. “What?”
CJ gives me a look.
I wince. “Yeah. It was right before you showed up in the hearse.”
CJ looks harder.
“I know, I know. I should have told you. I just…It wasn’t relevant at the time.”
Now I’m getting looks from everyone.
“We had other stuff going on!”
Poppy rubs her forehead. “Jesus Christ, Elle.”
“The good news is he doesn’t want to kill me. He wants to offer me a job.”
“Job as in data entry?” Tolliver asks. “Or job as in whacking someone?”
“Neither. He wants me to retrieve the codex. But,” I continue quickly before they all freak out, “more good news: He thinks it was stolen by the Cult of Hades.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Rook adjust his collar.
Poppy takes a huge sip of wine. “I’m going to need you to start from the beginning.”
I walk them through the whole story, about the Cult being a bunch of demons wanting to use the grimoire to resurrect Hades and the syndicates joining forces to stop it but also just wanting the codex for themselves. And how they want me to be the one to get the grimoire back for them.
I don’t tell them about the deal to do it in exchange for my brother’s soul because that would lead to questions about his location and we don’t need to discuss that just yet.
“Why would demons want to resurrect Hades?” Tolliver asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know, ’cause they’re evil? Waring made it sound like Hades broke the rules of magic too, so maybe he’s one of them.”
Rook clears his throat, and though I act like I don’t notice, that’s one too many nervous tics within the course of this conversation.
I’m now almost positive the Cult of Hades are the ones who killed his sister and beat him up.
I’m equally as positive that he’s keeping that detail from us for a reason.
This job just got complicated.
Well, it was already complicated. But now we can’t trust Rook.
Well, we could never fully trust Rook.
Point is, I have to play this next part carefully.
“Tolliver,” I say.
He perks up. “Yup?”
“What potion did you give Ezra?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t give Ezra a potion.”
“I stole it,” Ezra offers glumly.
“Dude!” Tolliver rushes over to his bag and starts sorting through the vials and flasks.
“It was in an opaque jar,” I say, adjusting the peas to my shoulder. A bunch spill out through the hole made by Crowlene. “Golden smoke. I didn’t see what happened to Waring and the others, but they didn’t stop us.”
Tolliver lets out a sigh of relief. “That’s Freeze Frame. They would have been basically unconscious when you escaped.”
“Good. So they won’t know I—oh no.” I swallow.
“What?” Tolliver asks.
“No, no, no. Ezra!” I snap.
He pulls his head from the trash. “What?”
“Two of them weren’t there!”
“…Okay?”
“Waring, Hecate, and Thea were there in person, but they also had two people on a laptop. They were there virtually, so the gas had no effect on them.”
CJ curses under their breath.
Poppy stands, glass in hand. “So they saw Ezra help you escape.” She chugs the last of her wine.
I push myself up and start pacing. Albeit stiffly with the injuries, but it does help me think as I try to remember what Ezra and I said when he rescued me. “Ezra’s face was covered…He made a dick joke—”
“It wasn’t a dick joke!”
“I was surprised he came back, and then there was something about…Oh shit, I think I asked about the rest of the crew.”
“Pack up,” CJ orders.
There’s a mad rush as we gather up our things and wipe down surfaces.
Crowlene even helps pick the peas off the floor.
By the time we sneak out the back and reset the security system, the house is exactly how we found it—with the exceptions of one missing bag of peas and a recorked bottle of 1982 Chateau Lafite Rothschild topped up with tap water, food coloring, and a splash of vinegar.