Still, his shaggy eyebrows rose upward at our approach as if he hadn’t expected our arrival, as if we were a complete surprise.
Which, I knew, we were not.
“Hello, Mithra,” I said. “Can we be seated?”
He was leaning back against the booth, his homeless gaze filled with an executioner’s boredom. “Delaney Reed. You received my summons?”
“Piper told me you wanted to see me and Ryder. Ryder Bailey, this is Mithra. All-seeing Protector of Truth, Guardian of Cattle, Harvest and Waters, and Divinity of Contracts. Mithra, this is Ryder Bailey.”
Ryder nodded, with just enough of a bend at his waist to make it a passable bow.
I was impressed. From the considering glint in Mithra’s eye, he was too.
“Be seated.”
I let Ryder slide in first, then I took the seat next to him.
“You have failed in your duties, Delaney Reed. How do you plead?”
Ryder tensed next to me. I guess he hadn’t expected the god to be quite so straight-forward. Luckily for me, this wasn’t my first tango.
“Not guilty. Also, I refute your claim to prosecute me or my blood outside of the boundaries of Ordinary on a matter involving Ordinary and the deities and creatures within it, of which you have no standing authority over.”
“I have every right to punish those who break contract, those who break law, those who break truth.”
“You are a god. But I am not bound to worship you. None of my family is.”
“The Reeds once chose to do right. Once chose to uphold oaths, defend the law.” Mithra put some power behind those words. Enough that if I were only a mortal, I would probably be quaking from the intense need to bow to his will.
Good thing I was a Reed, and not so easily swayed by god power.
“We still do that. I have a shiny police badge to prove it.” I gave him a smile.
He did not look amused.
Ryder was silent, but I could tell from the tension rolling off him that he might be rethinking his “there are no gods” thing. God power was a little hard to ignore even when the deity wasn’t trying to prove a point.
“You have failed to uphold the contracts of Ordinary.”
“When?”
“The god Raven took up his power and left Ordinary.”
Shit. Yep. I knew where this was going.
“In doing so, no contract was broken. Do you agree?”
I knew that there would be no lying to Mithra. He had a keen eye for the truth. It was sort of his thing.
That and seeing that justice—his brand of justice—was done.
“Yes, I agree Raven taking up his power outside Ordinary was not a breach of contract.”
“He was allowed to return to Ordinary. You allowed him.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Is that true, Delaney?”
“Yes,” I grit out.
“He then relinquished his power into safe keeping. Yes?”
“Yes.”
“He became once again the mortal Crow and resided within Ordinary. Is still there now.”
“Yes.”
“Must I repeat the contract of your land back to you, Delaney Reed? Must I remind you of the sacred covenant you have given to all gods, mortal, and creatures when you took up the mantle as the Eldest Reed and guardian of all those within Ordinary?”
“No.”
“Then you admit to your guilt?”
“I admit to nothing of the kind. What you said is true. It happened. And yes, I know what the contract with Ordinary entails. I admit to no guilt.”
He paused and those deep, watery eyes held the kind of edge that could cut through bone.
“Your father was wrong.”
I clenched my hands under the table, but didn’t show him how much those four words angered me. “About a lot of things, I’d guess.”
“He was wrong about his ability. Wrong about his decisions. Wrong about you.”
It took an effort to keep my mouth closed. Just because I was highly tolerant to god power didn’t mean he couldn’t undo every atom in my body with a snap of his fingers.
One did not live long if one pissed off a god.
“Maybe he was,” I said, though it came out a little breathier than I wanted. “But what’s done is done. He’s gone now. Dead. Even you can’t judge a soul beyond life.”
He blinked once, slowly, then simply stared at me.
Waiting for me to break.
The weight of his power pressed down on my skull, pushed at my neck, shoulders. It stung like bees crawling over my skin. It hurt, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.
We Reeds were meant to face any storm that came our way.
Even if those storms were gods.
I squared my shoulders and leaned forward, toward him, toward that pain, toward that hatred he’d always carried for me, my father, my family line. The hatred he carried for Ordinary.
“I will not worship you.”
I was pretty sure if someone threw gasoline at his reaction, we’d catch on fire.
“You can not continue holding the laws of Ordinary and the safety of powers in your hand without bending knee to a power larger than you.”
“We Reeds are the guardians of Ordinary. Always have been, and we always will be. None of my ancestors worshiped you. I won’t either.”
“You are wrong. There was a time when your family was tied to me, very closely tied to me. It was a better time. One I suggest you return to immediately.”
“No.”
His nostrils flared and that crackling light in his eyes looked a little like lightning. He was in full-throttle smite. I was about to be smoted. Smitted. Smate. Whatever.
“How about we deal with the fact that you are currently in illegal possession of the god powers of Ordinary? Which makes you an accessory to a crime. A crime that breaks the rules and contracts of Ordinary.”
“You hold no power over me.”
“Ditto, Mithra. And you never will.”
He went red, his buggy eyes somehow bugging out even more. “All contracts fall under my power. All contract breakers are mine to punish. Your father knew this. If you were the warden, you would know this too.”
“No.” My stomach went sour at the mention of it. Dad had spoken of the warden position off and on while I was growing up. There was a time, a long time ago, when Ordinary had the option of having a warden instead of guardians like the Reed family. It was back enough greats in my ancestral line that I hadn’t paid it much attention. But Dad had.
Mithra had tried to force my dad to take that position. To become the warden of Ordinary, to worship only Mithra. Dad refused. Refused to be a god’s sycophant, refused to be ruled by one god power.
Said it would be the kiss of death for our town. Said that it was better to be a police officer, someone who could enforce the mortal law of the land, the law of the town, and the laws put into place and agreement by all the gods who vacationed there.
One god calling the shots above all others was a very bad idea. As a matter of fact I was pretty sure that if we tried that, Ordinary would be disbanded, the gods no longer vacationing, the creatures...well, I wasn’t sure if the creatures would stay or not, but I was pretty sure some of them, like Rossi wouldn’t want to have a god ruling them.
We might be a small town, but we were a hugely independent people.
“Ordinary must have a warden,” Mithra said.
“Ordinary is just fine with a guardian—the Reeds. And a police force—also the Reeds. We have this under control. My sisters and I are more than enough to keep Ordinary safe.”
“Objection.” Mithra pulled something off the seat next to him and plunked it down on the table.
A bottle of water. What most people would think was an empty bottle of water.
It was not empty.
It was full, bursting, roaring. With song. With power.
My heartbeat thrumped up and up, faster, harder. The god powers s
ang to me, called to me, recognizing that I was their guardian, I was their path and bridge back to Ordinary, back to the deities to whom they belonged.
Mithra tapped his fingers on the table, a blunt counter-beat to my pulse.
“This can not happen, Delaney Reed. God powers. Bottled. Stolen. By a human.”
“She’s more than a human. You know that. You sent her to steal them.”
He lifted two fingers, halting the tapping long enough to brush away my words. “She is still human. And these are still god powers. In a bottle.”
Ryder exhaled a little shakily next to me. I hadn’t forgotten he was there, but hadn’t been paying him much attention either.
I could feel the nervousness rolling off him now.
Yeah, that was a lot of power sitting on the table in front of us, barely contained behind that thin plastic coating.
I wasn’t even sure how Piper had managed to get the powers to fill the bottle, nor how they still remained there. But from the steady intensity Mithra was aiming my way, I decided he was probably behind it, behind all of it—Piper going after the power, Piper conveniently possessing a water bottle that could actually contain the powers, Piper giving him the powers in trade for that long-ago debt that he had tricked her mother into.
Mithra was a little bit of a dick.
“You have no right to hold those powers.”
“Contracts have been broken. I am the judge here, not you. Bow to me, Delaney. Become my warden. You have twenty-four hours to tell me yes.”
“Or suffer what consequences?”
“I will keep these powers for my own.”
Ryder stiffened next to me, and he opened his mouth. I reached over and put my palm on his thigh to keep him quiet and let him know I could handle this. The sweat on my palm probably didn’t help my case much.
“You don’t have the power or right to claim those powers. They belong to the gods in Ordinary. All they have to do is step out of town, and the powers would be theirs again. If you’re trying to threaten me, you’re using the wrong leverage.”
“I’m not threatening. I am upholding the justice for these powers, for these gods, for that town you were sworn to guard. I am giving you exactly twenty-four hours to accept the position of the warden.”
There was an or else attached to that.
“Or?” I prompted.
“Or I will offer the position to someone else.”
My stomach dropped, but anger quickly overran the sickness I felt. “You can’t do that.”
“I can.” He leaned forward and the smile was smug. “And I will. When you refuse me. Because I know the truth of you, Delaney. You are too much like your father. You will never compromise your own sense of morals to follow me, not even if it would be the right thing to do.”
“Ordinary doesn’t need a warden. We’ve been doing just fine for years without a warden. It’s not even written into the rules of Ordinary that a warden is allowed.”
“A warden is not only allowed, it is necessary.”
“Says you.” I realized I was squeezing Ryder’s thigh a little too hard, so I tried to relax my fingers and calm down before I relieved a little tension by punching Mithra in his face.
“Look. I understand there was a mistake made by allowing Crow to put away his power before he had spent a year outside of Ordinary. I understand that is a breach in the laws. There were circumstances that lead us to believe his power had the flexibility to allow him to stay.
“It’s clear now that we were wrong. Otherwise you never would have been able to pierce our boundaries and take the powers. But let’s be clear here. You weren’t doing it out of any sense of loyalty to Ordinary. You waited for your chance, found your loophole, and would just as soon seen this vacation town wiped off the map. You’ve been angling for this for years. Waiting for your chance to tear Ordinary apart. You can’t stand anyone—mortals, creatures, or gods—to live somewhere where you can’t boss them around.”
“Don’t assume you know me, Delaney.”
Sure, he sounded aloof and bored, but I’d been around gods all my life. I knew when they were bluffing. He didn’t like Ordinary and he never had. He’d do anything to take it apart.
“I’m going to counter your demands with a question, and I’d like you to answer with the truth.”
He raised one eyebrow. I was pretty sure he was incapable of lying.
“Go on.”
“Why haven’t you ever vacationed in Ordinary? Maybe a little time off experiencing the world through mortal eyes would be a good thing. You know you’re welcome—have always been welcome. No matter what you think of me or my family line, I swear to you I will do everything in my abilities to keep your power safe, and to make your vacation an enjoyable one.”
“I would never willingly abandon my power. Never.”
Yep. That’s pretty much what I’d expected. Still, I had to give it a shot. One of the important things to remember was that while I was the bridge for powers to be stored in Ordinary, and the law the gods would have to follow while in Ordinary, I was also the human who had the most chance to ease the gods into the idea that taking a little time off could be a good thing. A great thing.
It was my job to let them know Ordinary was there, waiting and welcome.
“Twenty-four hours, Delaney, or I will offer the position of warden to someone else.”
“My sisters won’t take it. I know them.”
He nodded slightly. “I wouldn’t offer it to them. I have some standards.”
“Don’t,” I said. “You have no power over me, Mithra. Nor over my blood. But I won’t sit here and let you insult my sisters. Don’t think I won’t punch you in the throat for that.”
Something shifted on his face, and for a second, brief and fleeting and maybe mostly imaginary, I saw what looked like confusion or hurt. Then the flat stern judgmental face was back.
“Only a first born can become a warden,” he said rather more quietly than he had before. Almost apologetically.
“Oh.”
Well, this was awkward. Maybe he wasn’t as bad a being as I’d thought. Maybe he was just misunderstood.
“I’d offer it to Ryder Bailey.”
Nope. He was totally as bad a being as I’d thought. Worse.
“What?” Ryder choked out. “Me?”
“Him?” I said, just as startled. “Why?”
Mithra looked pleased as a cat in a box factory.
“He is first born. He is a son of the soil upon which he would lord over...”
“Lord over?” It came out a little loud. I didn’t care if anyone was staring at us, but from the level of noise in the place, I was pretty sure no one heard us.
“Lord over?” Ryder sounded like he was trying to comprehend a new language. Yeah, well I suppose if one didn’t believe in powers and gods, one might be having a hard time dealing with being hard-handed into a position of worship and lording over.
Was this how the dark side recruited? I was pretty sure this was how the dark side recruited.
“He is not going to serve the dark side,” I said.
“I’m—I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mithra said. “I am the god of justice. Contracts. Oaths. I am not a god of dark sides.”
“Is that what this is?” Ryder asked. He had turned so he could see me, though I noticed his eyes kept shifting to Mithra. “Is he a Sith lord?”
God, I loved this man.
“No, not like that. But what he’s offering you might just make you one.”
“Not a chance. I don’t give in to my hatred just because some wrinkly old man in a hoodie tells me to.”
I grinned and he grinned back.
Mithra sighed and tapped his fingers on the table. “I believe we were having an important discussion? The fate of your town and these god powers depends on it?” He jiggled the water bottle.
“Hold your horses,” I said to him. Then to Ryder: “Favorite Star Wars.”
“Empire,” Ryder
said without hesitation.
“‘I love you,’” I said.
“‘I know.’”
Then it hit both of us what we’d just said. Ryder’s eyes went wide, but his shoulders were set, ready to take the fall out for what he’d said, and not back down.
My mouth felt dry and my heart thrummed in triple time. I swallowed and my throat clicked. I’d just told Ryder I loved him.
But it was a movie quote. That didn’t count did it? Did movie quotes count?
“Why are you so red?” Mithra asked.
Ryder’s eyebrows were popped and he had this smug little smile on his face that I wanted to kiss off of him.
“Sunburn,” I said.
“The sun hasn’t broken through the clouds in two months,” Mithra said.
“Rain-burn.” I winced. “I have a rare condition. Allergic to rain. Get rain-rash.”
“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Ryder noted.
Was that laughter in his voice? That was definitely laughter.
“I don’t even know what conversation we’re having,” Mithra grumbled. “But you will both return here, in twenty-four hours and one of you will bow to me.”
That snapped me right back into the discussion at hand. The other discussion.
“No,” Ryder said. “We won’t.”
I opened my mouth, but Ryder turned to Mithra. “I’ll do it. I’ll be Ordinary’s warden. Now give the powers back to Delaney.”
The sheer hard delight that shone through Mithra’s eyes was only equaled by the terror racing through me.
“No,” I said. “He didn’t mean that. You don’t mean that. You can’t. Don’t do this, Ryder. Nothing comes without a price and you don’t know what he’ll make you pay.”
“Done.” That single word was filled with Mithra’s power. I could feel the agreement finalize between them, like the hard crack of a jail door slamming shut.
“Shit,” I said.
Ryder looked a little glossy-eyed. A little stunned.
Mithra handed me the bottle of powers. “Pleasure doing business with you, Delaney. Now leave. I have other things to attend.”
One minute Mithra was there, apparently solid, real, breathing. Then...nothing. Ryder and I were sitting on one side of a booth and the seat on the other side was empty.