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“Neither,” Reg injects. “Just get to the proposal. Well, thenonproposal. Though now that I know the All-father was there, the cups are starting to fit the saucers.”
“Don’t pour the tea yet,” I mutter. “There’s still the part where Hecate showed up too.”
“Shit,” Jesse grouses.
“Ah. Lovely,” Reg croons with a sardonic smirk. “No wonder Zeus was a bit impatient about scooting me up here. Ifsheknows—”
“Not just her,” I cut in.
“Holy crap.” Jesse sags back in his chair. “Were you live streaming or something? The crowd got bigger?”
“Only by one.” Though I supply him with an answer, I maintain my scrutiny on Reg. “Persephone was with her.”
She joins my buddy in knocking back fast. She hits the edge of the kitchen counter so violently, the beads on her braids clatter. “For crying outloud.”
I almost imitate the move at the burst of Jesse’s grunt, coinciding with his dig into his chair’s side pocket for his plastic hand flinger. But instead of his usual restless flicking, the man weaves the flexible rubber between his fingers.
“Loud but still logical,” he adds to Reg’s remark. “So, I assume she’s suspect number one in the case of the missing grimoire?”
The casual edges of Regina’s stance are officially erased. “Grimoire?” she snaps. “What grimoire? Not the long or longer answer, young man. Thecompleteone.”
“Damn.” Jesse has the grace to color a little. “I guess Kell isn’t the only one for unintentional spills this weekend.” He adds an apologetic flinch. “Sorry, man. I figured she knew. I mean, if Zeus—”
“Also doesn’t know,” Reg retorts. “Or he definitely would have told me, if my presumptions are correct regarding this grimoire…which has gone missing. Or should I saystolen?”
I shore up my stance. I owe her that and more. She’s a former decorated guard of Olympus. A warrior who gave up all that glory just to safeguard my sorry ass for twenty years. Still, I purposely click back to cagey for my reply.
“Depends. Whatarethose presumptions? And are you willing to help us figure this out?”
For a soldier so small, Reg’s sigh is more of a huge exhalation. But she adds nothing to it before shucking her leather jacket. Beneath, she’s wearing a black T-shirt with a ripped-out neck. It’s got a half-faded design of a girl drummer with her kit and some words below.
Just Throw the Sticks
It feels scarily appropriate.
Especially when Reg folds her arms, knives me with a determined glare, and speaks again.
“Maybe you’d better just start at the beginning.”
* * *
I didn’t expect her to be giddily awestruck by my story. But her ongoing glower has me worried.
Strike both. Regina’s visually daggering me now, not just glowering. And I’m close to leavingworriedbehind for something more likesweating with stress.
Thankfully, sweating doesn’t make a sound. If that were the case, I’d probably miss her taut mutter into the room’s strained silence.
“All right, then. Just so I know I’ve got this lined all the way up…” She pushes her head forward like I’ve got her on a bridle. The tension across her features is cinched just as painfully. “The king ofhellpopped into a party you were at with Kara and took her before your eyes, prompting you to go to her grandfather for help?” Her nostrils flare when I do nothing but extend my quiet tension. “And having a trained Olympian warrior who could have helped you out… That never once occurred to you in the process?”
I press my hands into prayer mode. Push them to the tight seam of my lips. “Reg—”
“Maximus.”She sniffs harder, going for indignation-puffed lungs. “You think books and coffee have turned me into parchment? I still have several spears, boy, and can easily drive any one of them into an enemy’s heart.”
“Before they get one into yours?” Goodbye, prayer fingers. Hello, incensed challenge.
“You calling me a fossil?”
“I’m calling you critical. And not just to Sarah, Mom, and me.”
