Page 39 of Patron of Mercy

After lunch, they made their way toward the outdoor amphitheater. Maybe the show was sold out, but any Styx concert would have scalpers, right? Even venues that cracked down on them had a hard time getting rid of them completely.

It’d been a while since Lach had seen a concert, but they were special. Even if he went alone, by the time the band started, he always felt like he was a part of something bigger than himself. As they approached the amphitheater, he got the itch of that feeling again.

He didn’t notice the music already floating through the air around them, until Thanatos stopped to listen to it. The god stared, rapt, at a weathered man and his guitar.

“Do you want to stay and listen?” Lach mumbled after a few minutes.

Thanatos refocused on him. At the very corners, his eyes wrinkled in a grimace. Before he could apologize, Lach reached down and squeezed his hand.

“It’s fine,” Lach said. “You stay here. I’ll get us tickets and be back before the song’s over.”

He let go of Thanatos’s hand and slipped through the crowds. There were a few shady looking guys around, but no one he asked had tickets left for sale. Disappointment began to creep icy tendrils into his chest. Maybe Thanatos would do that god thing—push on mortals a little to get what he wanted—but Lach didn’t think that he’d ever made a habit of that, and he definitely wouldn’t do it so he could go to a concert Thanatos was mostly ambivalent about.

When he was about to give up, a man grabbed his arm.

“Hi. Sorry, were you looking for tickets?”

The man had hazel eyes, pale skin, and an American accent.

“Yeah. Definitely. I’d pay top dollar if you’ve got any.”

The man smiled. “No reason for all that. I’m just looking to get back what we paid. We overdid it with all the sightseeing yesterday. Wife’s got a sprained ankle, and we’re not gonna make it tonight.”

Lach tried to keep the smile off his face. A woman was hurt; it was nothing to be happy about. But he thought about going with Thanatos on an actual date. Music, singing, dancing under the open sky. He couldn’t help it.

“Here—” Lach dug in his wallet. He was old fashioned. Cash was all right, but he didn’t trust credit cards. Seemed skeevy, spending money you didn’t already have. “This cover it?”

“Sure does!” The man passed him the tickets and took the cash. “I hope you have a great time, uh—”

“Lach.”

“Nice to meet you, Lach. I’m Roger.”

Roger shook his hand. There was something intent in the way he looked at Lach that was a little weird—just ’cause his wife was out of commission didn’t mean Roger was. He could’ve been looking for a little something extra.

“Thanks so much, Roger! I hope your wife feels better.”

Lach wasn’t in the market for anything extra. He went back to Thanatos and waved the tickets triumphantly. “Got ’em!”

“That’s nice.” Thanatos’s voice was dreamy, but the musician had stopped playing. He was taking a break, resting his fingers while one of his admirers offered to buy him a drink.

“Yeah,” Lach said. “It’ll be a good time. Guaranteed.”

Thanatos still wasn’t looking at him but far off in the distance. An old part of Lach remembered that distraction. His heart started to sink.

“I have to go.”

“What?” Lach demanded.

At the sharpness in Lach’s voice, Thanatos looked directly at him and frowned. “Someone needs me, Lach. It’s been more than a week since I’ve seen to my duties.”

Lach flinched. That was some kind of reprimand. “Okay. I didn’t mean to keep you from anything. I thought we were going to—” With a heavy arm, he waved vaguely at the amphitheater.

Thanatos softened his gaze. Gently, he reached out and brushed his fingers across Lach’s forearm. “We are. I’ll be back in time. No more than an hour.”

“Sure, yeah. Okay.” This wasn’t some kind of plot to get away from Lach; it only felt that way. He forced a smile. “Someone needs you. Better get to it so we don’t miss the opener.”

For a moment, Thanatos simply stood there watching him. Then he gave a short nod. In a shimmer and one beat of his heart, Thanatos was gone, leaving Lach standing there with tickets in his hand and worry creeping through his veins.

---