Page 3 of Patron of Mercy

“It’s a pattern. And it’s divine. I’ve got a way to fix it, but I need to talk to Thanatos. Can you tell him that?”

Hermes was staring at the face of a little girl in the middle of an article. Thin and hollow cheeked, her luminous eyes looked huge. He lasted less than ten seconds before he flinched and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“Fine. Fine.” Hermes finished his drink. “I’m going to go tell the god of death that humanity is doomed if he doesn’t talk to his ex. That’s going to go fucking great. Really nice to see you, Lach. Truly.”

For once, Hermes didn’t rush out but dragged his feet toward the exit.

“You’re the best, Hermes,” Lach called after him. Hermes waved his hand and slipped through the back.

Alone with Cleo, Lach was the only one who could hear the muffled sounds coming from the club’s office, but there was nothing to do but sit and wait.

When he lifted his hand, Cleo turned to look at him. “Can I get another?”

She stared at him like, despite the fact that they didn’t know each other, she could see the fuckery rolling off him in waves. But she poured him another shot. If Thanatos showed up, he might need a bit of liquid courage anyway.

“Thanks,” he said, his fingertips at his lips. He tipped his hand out. Even Lach knew that much ASL.

Cleo gave him a thumbs up, and he settled in to wait.

Brotherly Love

“So the guy keeps yelling, ‘Do you know who I am?’ and trying to get in my face.” Charon rolled his eyes as he took a bite of his sandwich and didn’t even swallow before he continued talking. “Until this tiny girl who died in a shooting, maybe twelve years old, walks up and goes ‘I know who you are,’ and slugs him right in the face.”

Thanatos was grateful every single day that he was the god of merciful death. So many souls he retrieved were peaceful. Some were pleased to go with him. Angry old men and children with gunshot wounds weren’t his kind of charge. As the ferryman who took souls to Hades, his brother Charon had to deal with all the dead, not only those peaceful souls Thanatos delivered to him.

“You okay?” Charon asked through another mouthful of meatballs and cheese. “You’re quieter than usual today.”

Thanatos shrugged. “It’s looking like a bad year, is all.”

Charon flinched and nodded, his gaze drifting to the floor of his train. People came and went as they ate together, and Charon directed them with the practiced ease of a man who dealt with over a hundred thousand passengers a day. Thanatos didn’t know how he managed it.

Drinking seemed to figure heavily into the equation.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, and Charon seemed to be working up the nerve to say something. He was interrupted when a stronger presence than one of the spirits of the departed boarded the train. They looked up at the same time to find an apprehensive Hermes.

“Heeey, guys. Fancy finding you together like this.” He squirmed under their attention, one foot tapping. He looked like he was considering running off.

Charon took a drink and cleared his throat. “What do you need, Hermes? Back in Daddy’s good graces and here to demand an accounting?”

Hermes’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head emphatically. “No! Nothing like that. Me and the old man, totally still on the outs. He’s holed up on Olympus brooding like they cancelled his favorite TV show.”

Thanatos ignored Hermes in favor of watching his brother. “An accounting of what?”

Charon’s eyes darted away from meeting his, so he looked at Hermes and raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, right?” Hermes asked, hands up in supplication. He was always a little slippery, but he was acting more skittish than normal.

Thanatos waited him out, watching, that single eyebrow raised.

After a moment, the younger god sighed, put upon and frustrated. “Charon absolutely did not help me break Prometheus out of lockup. He would never piss Zeus off like that. It’s all on me.” He sighed and muttered under his breath, “Just like everything else lately.”

Thanatos turned, eyes wide, to demand more information from his brother, but Hermes interrupted.

“Look, I’m sure you guys have lots of things to discuss, but I actually need to relay a message,” he said as he came to stand in front of Thanatos. Just out of reach, he noted absently, should he get irritated and grab for Hermes.

He frowned at that. How bad could the message be, that he expected Thanatos of all people to attack him? Among his fellow gods, Thanatos liked to think he had the least violent reputation. When the silence had dragged on for more than a minute, he sighed and rolled his hand in a circular motion. “Well? What message?”

Hermes took a deep breath. “Lach wants to see you and he’s got a pretty good reason so I think you should go even though I’m sure you won’t want to and that’s totally understandable of you but—”

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