Together, we led Errol around front.
It was like he knew he was on stage. He strutted around the house, neck arched, lifting his legs high and showing off. Beverley couldn’t contain herself. She ran toward us. Errol did his elegant bow again and Mountain helped her onto the unicorn’s back. Parents applauded.
The ponies raised their heads high, too. Errol’s beauty and charisma captivated everyone. Smokey Bear and the other ponies pranced around the yard following him—no encouragement needed.
When the time was up, Nana took over and called for everyone to come inside and wash up for “cold cuts and chips to be followed by cake and ice cream.” Mountain lifted Beverley down; she hugged Errol and ran inside with her friends. We petted and praised the unicorn for being such a show stealer.
Mr. Purdy drew near us, intent on the unicorn. He jerked his bill cap off and scratched his head. “In ten years, I’ve never seen my ponies prance like that.”
“They just need a little inspiration, I guess.”
“Would you sell me that horse?”
“Sorry, Mr. Purdy.”
“How’d you make that horn?” He reached up as if to analyze how we’d attached it.
Mountain cleared his throat. “Check eBay for antlers or movie props.”
Mr. Purdy spat, resettled his ball cap, and said, “If you had a half-dozen white horses, all with those horns, you’d make a killin’ doin’ the county fair circuit. If you weren’t bothered by large groups of people, that is.” He walked away.
“No doubt.” Mountain scratched under Errol’s chin. “But I’m not sure your back is meant for anyone but Beverley.”
Errol nickered and bobbed his head. I was sure he was agreeing.
“How’s Thunderbird?”
Mountain glanced toward the barns. “My truck arrived last evening; had a side of beef in it. The griffons let him have first dibs. He ate lightly, then one of the others brought in a deer leg after dusk, offered it to him, and he ate that, too.” He absently plucked at Errol’s mane. “I’m trying to figure out why the others treat him differently. Sometimes I think it’s his injury, sometimes I’m not sure that’s it.” He paused. “Zhan tells me you want her to take a few of the phoenixes to her family in California.”
“If it will make things better for her, absolutely.”
“She said her folks lived on a small farm north of San Francisco. Her mother grows Chinese medicinal herbs.”
“Sounds like they could easily house and care for some unusual poultry.”
Mountain smiled at my description. “But how do we get them there?”
“Would they prefer a private jet or to go in some type of wheeled vehicle?”
“Not sure.”
“Well, when you figure that part out, I’m sure Menessos can handle the rest.”
When the party was over and everyone was gone except Celia, it was safe for me to go inside. Ares trotted out to greet me and thumped my leg with his tail all the way down the hall. As I walked toward the kitchen I jerked the hot wig and hat combo from my head, loosed the bobby pins, and finger-combed my hair.
Only Beverley was missing from those gathered at the table. “Where’s the guest of honor? The party was a success, yes?”
“Yes. She’s upstairs packing an overnight bag,” Nana said.
“She’s going to stay with me until Monday morning,” Celia added quickly. “I’ll see her to the bus.”
Noting my confusion, Nana clarified. “I’ve decided that I’m going to Pittsburgh with you. I have some words of my own for Eris.”
A road trip with Nana? Thank the Goddess Pittsburgh is only two and a half hours away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Everyone slept in late the next morning, but by ten-thirty we’d all showered, eaten breakfast, and were ready. Atop the stairs I paused to check my overnight bag.
“C’mon! Let’s hit the road,” Nana called out. She held a grocery bag in one hand and had the other on the doorknob.
“What’s in the bag?” Johnny asked, stepping over to her.
“It’s not a bag, it’s a poke.”
“A poke?”
“It’s like a bag, but it’s not.”
“Okay. What’s in it?”
He didn’t know how lucky he was he hadn’t asked her what the difference was.
Nana said, “A nightgown and a change of clothes.”
“Then it’s not a bag or a poke,” he quipped. “It’s a suitcase.”
I descended the steps, imagining how exhausting this little trip was going to be.
Johnny was wearing black jeans, Harley boots, and the long-sleeved tee that matched the knit hat I’d worn yesterday. The silkscreened skulls with wings had a distressed quality, but the brightness of these embellishments made the black of the shirt deeper, darker. Like his eyes. Though still blue, his irises were shadowed today, and were indicative of this day’s magnitude.
“Take this,” he said and tossed me his leather jacket.
The first time I’d worn his leather, we rode the motorcycle to the hospital because Theo had been in a car accident. We’d both come a long way since then. “Why?”
“If you’re undercover as someone in the market for a tat, you should look the part.”
“Don’t I?” I had on my jeans and boots, too. A black tank top with spaghetti straps paired with a velveteen black hoodie served as my top.
“Yeah, but if you ditch the hoodie and just wear the tank and my leather you’ll really sell the idea that you’re a newbie biker chick in search of her first tattoo.”
“I thought everyone had tattoos these days.” I shrugged out of the hoodie, aware that Johnny’s eyes were roaming over me appreciatively. “They’re not just for mechanics, military, and the rock ’n’ roll types anymore. Doctors, teachers, and even corporate suits have ’em now.”
“Still. It’ll help.”
I put the leather on, enveloped in the cedar and sage scent of him. “It’ll help you to be a distracted driver.”
“Mmmm-hmmm.” He ran his fingers through my hair, mmm-ed again, then encircled me with his arms.
“Can we go now?” Nana tapped her foot impatiently.
Zhan emerged from the little bathroom under the stairs. “Load up.”
Nana was out the door before the rest of us took a step.
Johnny held the door open for Zhan and me. As I passed he mumbled, “Promise me Demeter won’t ask, ‘are we there yet’ every five minutes.”
“So, before we arrive,” Zhan said from the backseat, “do I need to know the history behind the bad blood?”
Beside her, Nana answered, “Eris is my daughter. She was an unwed mother and abandoned Persephone with me and ran off to be with some man.”
“What are you hoping to accomplish, Demeter?” Zhan asked.
“I don’t know, but if a confrontation is going to take place, I deserve to be a part of it. I’m the one who picked up where she left off.”
“And what’s your goal?” Zhan aimed the question at me this time.
“I’m not after a confrontation. I just want answers for Johnny.”
“‘Just’?”
Though she meant, “Only that?” I heard the other meaning of the word: “What’s right and fair.”
“Have you nothing you want to gain for yourself, Persephone?” Nana prompted.
“Part of me wants to shout at her. To let her know about all the hurt she caused. To tell her to her face that she’s selfish and clueless and …” I stopped because the passionate anger that filled me clamped my teeth together, hardened my voice, and surprised me.
This was the rage and hate I thought I had abandoned. It wasn’t gone at all.
All that business I’d told Amenemhab about being done with her—no wonder the jackal was skeptical.
Quietly, Nana asked, “Are you tough enough to defeat yourself?”
I twisted in my seat to meet her eyes.
Gaining Johnny’s answers and having my vengeful little encounter was unlikely. Achieving one would rebuff the other.
Which side of me would I let win?