Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(97)

I waited. “Feel a song coming on, Than?”

His lips twitched at one corner. “Not in the least.”

I pointed at him. “That’s what we mortals call a lie.”

He blinked again and rested the mug against his palm. “I am curious as to this favor.”

I wiped my hands on my jeans, slicking away the sweat there. It wasn’t particularly warm in the shop, but I felt like everything inside me was vibrating with the rhythm of the song in my head. It was like having the worst case of nerves, while also running a marathon. I felt shaky, a little nauseated, and overstimulated.

“I want to know the repercussions of my death.”

He held still in a way I’d seen very few people manage. Then he drew the mug back to his mouth and took another sip.

I felt the silence stretch out, and decided I didn’t have enough time left to wait for anything. Not even Death.

“Specifically, I want to know what happens if you kill me while I’m containing a god power.”

“Specifically,” he said.

“Specifically.”

“It would be a great disappointment to me, Reed Daughter. I would miss you. Specifically.”

“Oh,” I said softly. I swallowed against the mix of emotions. It was kind of him to say that. But kindness—if that was what that was—wouldn’t solve my problem.

“I…I need to know if my death would somehow keep the god power from tearing apart the town. If I die holding it, containing it, will it slow it down? Stop it?”

“I am not the guardian of power. That burden your family alone must bear.”

I laced my fingers on the tabletop and nodded. “I know. I know you’re not an expert in guarding powers. But you know your power like no other being. I want to know if Death can kill a power.”

He sat back, his face almost serene with wonder as his dark eyes studied me like I were something he had never seen before.

“Such a thing…” he whispered with hollow longing.

“Is that a yes?”

He shook his head slightly, bemused wonder still relaxing his features. “I do not know.”

“Crap.” I slumped against the back of my chair. “There goes my nuclear option.”

He sat up straight again, his fingertips stroking the curve of the mug before he slipped his fingers through the handle. It seemed to be an unconscious motion, but the way he did it made me think he was petting a cat.

Or a bunny.

I tipped my head a bit to get a better look at the repeating pattern in his sweater.

Yep. That was one hundred percent bunny loving going on.

“What I can assume from your question is that you are no longer confident that you can bridge the power to its mortal vessel. Is that correct?”

“Confidence in my ability isn’t really the problem,” I said, even though, yes, I was worried that I wouldn’t do that part right too. “The problem is I think the mortal vessel has skipped town before I could give him the power.”

“And why would he do that?”

“I kind of punched him in the face.”

Than tipped his chin and blinked quickly. “That is… I see,” he said. “And who do you believe is to take on the mantle of Heimdall?”

“Cooper Clark.”

“What actions have you taken to find him?”

“We put out an all-points bulletin. Every cop on the West Coast is looking for him.”

“Yes. Of course.” He lifted his mug again, drank. This time he hummed just a little after he swallowed.

“Was that a happy hum?” I said. “It sounded musical.”

He ignored me. “Which non-mortal actions have you taken to find him?”

I blinked. “What?”

His eyes hardened with something that looked an awful lot like glee. “You have a town of vacationing gods who could easily regain their powers for a brief time. At least one among them must be a hunter. And then there are the vampires who seem quite capable in scenting familiar blood, the werewolves who are quite possibly even better hunters than the gods or vampires, and any number of far-seeing and divining creatures and deities who may offer some small amount of use.”

I stood so quickly that the table shook. Than lifted his hot cocoa to safety before it spilled.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.” Yes, the gods had offered to help, but I’d assumed they meant something with lightning bolts and locus curses. It never crossed my mind to drag them into the very mundane action of tracking down a runaway.

“You are a beautiful genius!” I stopped beside him and impulsively planted a kiss on his cheek.

He grunted, but his mouth curved up what might, almost, in the right light, pass for a smile.

“Yes,” he said, smoothing his features until he appeared uninterested and irritated. “I am.”

I waved over my shoulder and hurried out of the Perky Perch.

Just as I hit the parking lot and was trying to get my keys out of my pocket, Myra pulled up in her cruiser. She rolled down the window. “I thought you were going to call this morning and come in to work.”

I held up my hand to tell her to hold on, and walked over to the passenger side of the cruiser. She popped the lock so I could get in.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.