Page 9 of Half Dead

“I thought you had a Board of Directors.”

He sat in Posy’s chair, effectively bumping her to the far end of the table. “We have that, too. The Executive Committee is a smaller group that oversees the day-to-day operations. The board is our primary governing body. They’re responsible for high-level strategic decisions.” He opened my file and began to flip through the pages with idle interest.

“Will anyone else be joining us?” I asked, curious to meet the gods that comprised the Board of Directors.

Skanda didn’t make eye contact. “No, I told them you’d be available for a meet-and-greet at the cocktail party.”

“I thought this was only a breakfast meeting. I didn’t dress for a formal event.”

“Posy can take care of that.”

“I’m not sure it’s necessary…”

Skanda cut me off with a stern look that quickly melted into a pleasant smile. “If we can’t impress you, how else are we to persuade you to join our illustrious organization?”

There weren’t enough cocktails in the world to convince me to put on that cobalt blue T-shirt.

“Impress me with information. I want to know more about my parents.”

He shut the folder and gave me his full attention. “Hades and Persephone, yes. Hades and I were good friends back in the day. I don’t suppose you’d know that.”

‘Back in the day’ could mean the 1970s or 680 BC. “And did you order the obliteration of your so-called friend?”

The god didn’t flinch. “No orders are given by a single deity here. Ever. Everything is done by committee.”

What a perfectly bureaucratic answer. It occurred to me that if I couldn’t get my burning questions answered during this meeting, then mixing with a group of inebriated blowhards might be the ideal setting to test for loose lips.

“What time is the cocktail party?” I asked. “I have friends expecting me at home.”

“Your paramour, Mr. Sullivan, I presume,” Skanda said.

“And others.”

His eyes glinted with recognition. “There’s no cause for concern, Melinoe. A deal is a deal. I know you think we specialize in glorified entrapment, but I am here to assure you that everything we do is above board.”

“Aboveyourboard, which isn’t saying much.”

He chuckled. “A fighting spirit, like your parents. I should expect nothing less.” He consulted his bronze watch. “Time is at our beck and call here, Melinoe. The party can start whenever you need it to. It’s in your honor, after all.”

Posy clenched her jaw. “Technically it’s inmyhonor, sir,” she muttered.

“Then start it now, but when I say I’m ready to leave, I want someone to whisk me straight to Skidder where I left my weapons. No delays.”

“Agreed. I’ll send a message to the invitees with the updated time.” He scraped back his chair and stood. “Posy, ifyou’ll escort our esteemed guest to the party. I need to take care of some business first.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled at me. “Great to finally meet you, Melinoe. I look forward to a fruitful relationship.”

Fat chance of that.

Posy adjusted the fit of her heels before rising to her feet. “Right this way, guest of honor.” There was a faint trace of bitterness in her voice.

We left the lanai, passing under an archway and into a courtyard.

Posy paused at the base of a statue—a man with a dog by his side. “Good evening, Lucius.”

The statue morphed into flesh and bone. The dog barked and wagged his tail.

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