Page 37 of Patron of Mercy

“Groceries,” Lach said, tone definite.

“That’s not the last thing on the way back to the boat?”

The pirate grin was back. “Nope. You get the boat ready to leave before anything else, in case things go pear shaped and you need to make a speedy exit. Don’t wanna be stuck on the open sea without having stocked up.”

Thanatos groaned. “That’s happened to you before, hasn’t it?”

“The real question here would be: ‘How many times has that happened to you?’—don’t you think?” Lach’s laughter, despite the subject, was uplifting. He was an ass, as always, but he was so damned happy about it that Thanatos couldn’t do anything but sigh and shake his head in mock consternation.

Food shopping with Lach was exactly what he’d expected. It was like grocery shopping with a kid who’d been shotgunning full-sugar soda. He wanted to get some of everything and didn’t spend a moment thinking about cost or nutritional value. Thanatos wondered how he’d survived the years, filling his boat with chocolate and bottles of wine.

“I think man might need more than wine alone,” Thanatos pointed out as Lach selected a second bottle to add to his basket. The price on the bottle was ridiculous for something that would be gone in a few hours.

Lach offered him an expression of feigned shock and turned to a nearby woman. “You believe this guy?” He hooked a thumb in Thanatos’s direction. “I know he’s gorgeous, but how’s a guy get to be this age and think buying wine is optional when you’re in Spain?”

She glanced between them and giggled before tucking her wine into her basket.

“See?” Lach asked him. “She knows what’s up.”

“She probably doesn’t speak English.”

Lach had pulled a third bottle off the shelf and paused in putting it into his basket to point it at Thanatos. “I’ll have you know most of the people around here speak English. Too many helpless American tourists not to.”

“So now you’re a helpless American tourist?” Thanatos asked, pulling the bottle out of his hands to look at it. Sweet and red, no surprise. Lach had always loved sweet things.

Lach shrugged, clearly shameless. “It’s an easy explanation. Plus it means I don’t have to try telling people why my Greek slang is a few centuries out of date.”

“You could try Norwegian,” Thanatos suggested.

Lach turned a bright, beaming smile on him. “I knew you were listening!”

A tiny part of Thanatos was still screaming that he should deny, roll his eyes, and walk away. Instead, he sighed, set the bottle in the cart, set his hand on top of Lach’s where it rested on the cart’s handle, and followed where Lach led.

Across the Styx

After restocking Misericordia’s larders with only the finest vino—okay, and some actual food—they got lunch at a restaurant that overlooked the water. The way the sun shone turned it a deep turquoise that sparkled at the corner of his sight. Lach might not have Thanatos’s charm or wit, but when he got butter on his cheek and gave the god a saucy wink, he got a laugh anyway.

And damn if that weren’t the best sound in the world. Back when Lach still thought he was human—not the half-cocked mistake he was now—Thanatos had laughed with him all the time. He’d let Lach under his careful reserve, but Lach had never understood why. He wasn’t special or important. Sure, he heard about gods taking mortal lovers, but beauties and princes and magicians whose talents dwarfed Lach’s very impressive skill at sailing a boat who, frankly, didn’t need his help. Special people. Not the demanding, entitled sons of fish mongers who didn’t know what was good for them.

Thanatos’s care now, his distance, was more in keeping with Lach’s expectations. But sometimes the god slipped up. He’d laugh or touch his hand—all small hints that Lach might not be as hopeless as he thought. After all, they were on land, and Thanatos had agreed to spend the day with him.

“You like it?” Lach asked, nodding toward the glass in Thanatos’s hand. They’d just finished off a bottle of wine.

“What, you want to hear how right you were?” Thanatos set it down between them. Though he cocked his head in challenge, there was a gleam in his eyes. He wasn’tthatannoyed.

“Oh, I don’t need to hear it. I already know.” He wiped his hands off on his napkin and stood. “Since you obviously liked it, order another bottle. And something for dessert. Whatever you want.”

“Where are you going?” Thanatos asked.

“Well. Human.” He gestured down his own front. “I know you’re extra special with your optional self-care and bodily necessities, but I kind of need the loo.”

Blankly, Thanatos stared at him. “Lach, you’re not British.”

“No, but I have spent enough time on the queen’s fair isles that I’ve earned the right to use any bloody slang I want.”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Thanatos slumped back in his seat and reached for the drinks and desserts menu.

Lach found the restroom down a short hall on the opposite side of the restaurant. On the way back, he glanced over a community board.

---