Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(102)

The conference room had a bank of windows with the blinds closed, a dark wood table down the center of it, and a vampire, a goddess, and my ex-boyfriend seated in the comfortable swivel chairs around it.

The power in me rang out with a shout, a chorus, reaching.

Hera nodded as I walked in. She looked different carrying her power too. A sort of regal air clung to her, even though she was still wearing her jeans and leather jacket. Ben stared at Raven and licked his bottom lip, a quick flash of fang pressing there, his eyes flickering with a hungry glow before he looked away.

Okay, we were all a little tense. A little off our normal footing.

Especially Cooper, who not only had a hell of a black eye, but was also glowering at me.

“What the hell is this all about, Delaney?” he demanded. “You send out your…your hitmen to kidnap me? This is taking crazy ex-girlfriend to the next level, don’t you think?”

“Kidnap? Where did Crow find you?”

“We found him,” Ben corrected. “Here, at the casino, rehearsing for the show.”

“Escorting you down to a conference room isn’t kidnapping,” Jame rumbled.

“Keeping me here is,” Cooper said. “There’s a band. For me to be in that band, I have to rehearse with it, not sit in a conference room with people who won’t answer my questions.”

“Give me a minute with him alone, please,” I said.

Hera’s voice was smooth and alluring. “I would rather we stay with you.”

I held open the door, not falling for the bedazzlement she was oozing. The Reed family immunity was good for that. “I’ll call you all back after we talk, and he has a chance to make his decision.”

They all filed out past me. I pointed at Raven. “No eavesdropping.”

He pressed his fingertips to his chest and made an offended sound.

I shut the door in his face and heard his muffled cackle.

The song of power was louder, a chorus of voices clashing and shattering into breathtaking harmonies.

If Cooper wasn’t the right person to take Heim’s power, he sure did have a way of stirring it up. I could barely hear myself think through it.

“What is going on, Delaney?” Cooper asked again.

I sat in the chair next to him, swiveling it to face him.

“Okay, I need you to hear me out on this, Coop.”

He shut his mouth and blinked hard a couple times. It had been a long time since I’d called him by his nickname.

“There are things about Ordinary that you don’t know. You might have suspected them when you were little, or in those odd moments when there wasn’t an easy logical explanation for weird things that you saw or heard.”

This was the speech my Dad had given more than once. But my nerves were wired so tight, I thought maybe Cooper could hear the blood rushing through my head, the song leaking out my ears. I’d never had to explain this to other people.

I’d never had the lives of all the people in town hanging on if I was able to convince someone of the impossible.

“Ordinary was founded many hundreds of years ago. Before America was called by that name. This little stretch of beach was chosen as a vacation place for people, for beings, who carry power. Those people set aside their powers while they vacationed here. Their idea of a vacation was to be mortal and live a normal, ordinary life.

“Some of those people have come back every year, or just stayed on in Ordinary and lived a long…very long time. You know them. You grew up with them. Crow, Herri, Odin, Frigg. They carry great power, except for when they’re inside Ordinary’s boundaries. Outside of Ordinary, they are gods.”

I swallowed and wiped my hands on my jeans, waiting to see how he would react to that.

“That’s…impossible,” he said quietly.

“Almost impossible.” I patted the air in front of me, begging for his patience. “These people—these gods—are vulnerable when they vacation in Ordinary. They not only live a mortal life, they are also actually mortal. Which means they can catch colds, break legs, fall in love. And they can be killed.

“But their power cannot be killed. When a god dies, that power must be picked up by a new person. A mortal person. Someone with the strength, endurance, and dedication to carry that power and all the burdens and joys that come with it.”

His lips were pressed together in a tight line. He was scowling, his eyes intense. “It can’t be true.”

“It is.”

Time ticked out between us.

“Remember junior year?” I said. “Spring? The Barnacles were playing the Smelts and weather was supposed to be a downpour?”

He nodded. He played second base for the Barnacles. I knew he’d remember.

“We got three inches of rain that day. The entire town flooded. But not the baseball field. It hardly sprinkled there.”

“Wha—”

“Thor. He had a bet riding on the outcome, picked up his power, and influenced the weather.”

“That was just a freak storm.”

“That was a god. The bus crash?” I said before he could argue. “Elementary school kids going on a field trip to the zoo. That eighteen-wheeler smashed head-on into the bus at sixty miles an hour. Should have killed them all. Everyone walked away without a scratch, including both drivers.”