“Get over here,” Artemis said, getting down on her haunches. Banjo immediately warmed to her, licking at her fingers, sniffing at her sandals. “That’s a good boy. Now, look at me.”
As if suddenly capable of understanding English, Banjo stopped wagging his little corgi tail and looked directly into Artemis’s face. He sat in place and stayed completely still, mesmerized by the goddess’s power.
“Well, shit,” Artemis breathed. She placed one hand under Banjo’s chin, lifting his snout closer as she pressed two fingers between his eyes. Banjo didn’t react when the pale blue rune appeared on his forehead.
“Well, shit,” I echoed. “What is that?”
“That,” Apollo said, “is a problem. That’s the dog’s identification. He’s marked, and that’s the owner’s name.”
Carver squinted as he peered closer, then groaned, rolling his eyes. “Gods above and below,” he murmured.
“I don’t like the sound of this,” I said. “What does the rune say?”
Artemis turned to me, blinked, then sighed. “It says Odin. Odin All-Father.”
My phone rang that very instant, and I was sure I wasn’t the only one who jumped, jolted out of the tension. I fumbled for my phone, ready to turn off the ringer when I realized I was still waiting for a call from Bastion. It was probably just him. So I checked the screen – and my heart very nearly stopped.
It said Odin. Odin All-Father.
Chapter 30
“Don’t pick up,” Apollo warned.
“No, pick it up,” Carver said. “We need to know what he has to say.”
“Pretend you missed the call,” Asher said. “You were on the toilet.”
Mason shrugged. “I mean, everyone uses their phone on the toilet. Am I right?”
“Everybody shut up,” I shouted.
I cradled the phone in both hands, like I was waiting for it to explode. I’d saved Odin’s number – the Twilight Tavern’s business line, that is – when I called about that favor he never wanted to give me.
Banjo looked at me over his little shoulders, Artemis’s spell faded. He seemed pretty interested in what the All-Father had to say, too.
“Damn it,” I said. “Damn it all to hell.”
“Put it on speaker,” Gil whispered. And so I did.
“Hello? Dustin Graves?” The voice on the other end of the line was gruff. No valkyrie secretaries or receptionists this time. Odin was all business. “Little human? Puny mageling?”
Okay, so not all business.
“I’m here,” I said, my voice squeaking. “I mean, I’m right here, Odin. How’s it hanging?”
Apollo slapped himself in the forehead.
“How is what hanging, exactly?” Odin blustered. “If this is some kind of awful joke about that time I hung from a tree, then you can just – ”
“Sorry, I’m sorry. It was a figure of speech. Modern human talk. Now. How can I help you?”
“You know exactly how, mortal. Give me back my dog.”
“Your – I’m not sure what you mean.”
“The little one,” Odin snarled. “The one with the small, pert posterior and charming black eyes.”
“Ohhh. That dog. Yes, I think I’ve seen it around.”