Uninspired Muse (Mt. Olympus Employment Agency: Muse Book 3) Read online

  “Come on, come on.” I grabbed a string of pearls with several mismatched earrings dangling from its string and dropped it on the dresser next to the velvet-lined box. I dug through layers of cheap costume jewelry mixed with antique pieces worth a mint until I found what I was looking for. “Gotcha !”

  A smooth rock about the size of a large marble rested in the palm of my hand. Its surface was a shiny silver-gray, and it had no more defined shape than a glob of wax. I stroked its shiny surface with one finger, overwhelmed with nostalgia. This simple rock held all the magic in the universe .

  At least, it had when I was a little girl, terrified of shadows in my room, afraid of giving an oral report at school, or nervous about going to the dentist. At one time, I’d had a collection of porcelain dolls, all dressed in velvet and fancy hats. I’d loved them until one night, one of them—my favorite—fell off the shelf and broke .

  I was sure one of the other dolls had pushed her. I was seven at the time. If Mom hadn’t come in to check on the noise, I might have stayed up all night waiting for the dolls to come to life and slaughter me with their tiny, delicate hands while making ghastly expressions with their painted faces .

  I clutched the rock in my palm and shivered, remembering. Mom had gathered all the dolls and put them in a box for charity while I curled around my pillow, positive the dolls would be angry with me for letting her put them in such a tiny space. The situation spiraled until I made myself physically ill .

  Having a vivid imagination isn’t always something to be praised .

  Once the dolls were boxed up, Mom brought out the magic rock and placed it in my hand. She’d let me hold it a few times before, but only in emergencies when I really, really needed it .

  “Keep a tight hold on this, Wynter.” She wrapped my fingers around it. “The magic inside will keep you safe. I’m sure the dolls aren’t mad, but even if they were, they would forget about you now that you have this .”

  Of course, I was fine that night. The dolls didn’t come to life, climb out of their box, and kill me. I fell asleep shortly after Mom left the room .

  I’d grown out of the magic rock eventually, but it had helped on several occasions. It was ironic that I’d outgrown magic that wasn’t real, grew up to find out there was real magic, and was now about to offer fake magic to my very real magical grandmother .

  I placed everything else back into Mom’s jewelry box, closed it, then returned to my grandmother who was still huddled against the tree. She gave me a nervous smile as I sat next to her with my hands cupped around the rock .

  “What do you have?” Her eyes were wide and hopeful in the warm glow of the porch light .

  I thought about saying a little mental prayer to any gods who might be listening, but I was afraid she’d be one of those gods and would hear me. I held out my hands and carefully revealed my prize . “This .”

  The look on her face was not what I’d been hoping for. I might as well have shown her something ridiculously mundane like a spoon or half a potato chip .

  “Hematite. You brought me a shiny rock.” She pushed away from the tree and stood, hands on her hips. “I know you want to help, but I’m not interested in your New Agey cures. This is serious .”

  I pulled myself up and held out the hematite. “I know it’s serious. I’m not offering you some rock I bought in a souvenir shop.” I dug deep for a believable lie and hoped again that she couldn’t hear my thoughts. “It was blessed by Hecate with a powerful grounding spell. She gave it to me a few months ago as a thank you for helping with the Hags of the Underworld Book Club. It will give you the control you need. I promise .”

  Demeter peered at the rock nestled in my palm, then touched it with one finger. Her expression changed from disbelief to surprise. “Oh! I felt something. Did you feel something ?”

  I feigned my own surprise. “Like a little shock? I felt it in my palm. You’d better take it.” I dropped it in her hand and closed her fingers around it .

  She smiled. “It’s warm.” Her shoulders relaxed. “I think this might work .”

  “Of course it’ll work. Hecate’s the strongest witch in existence .”

  “True. True.” She sighed. “Thank you, Wynter. I’ve made such a mess here. I’m so sorry.” Her eyes grew large. “And poor Phyllis. We have to replant her .”

  I shook my head and took her elbow. “I’ll take care of her. You just go home and rest. Keep the stone near you and you should be fine .”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to help with Phyllis?” She accepted my lead as I took her around the front of the house to her car .

  “We’ll be fine.” I kissed her cheek .

  She opened her fingers to check on her magical rock, took a deep breath, then held out her other hand. A second later, her purse appeared in it. She grinned. “I think I might be back to normal .”

  I gave her a tired smile. “Keep me posted, Grandmama. I want to hear all the juicy details .”

  She winked as she climbed into her car. “Thanks to you, there’s likely to be some , now .”

  As I watched her drive away, I’d never felt so exhausted in my life. I still needed to take care of Phyllis, and I’d only given my grandmother a temporary solution .

  The more progress I made with one problem, the farther behind I seemed to fall with the others .

  “Mom, you sure picked a great time to go away on a honeymoon .”

  With the weight of the world dragging on me, I trudged back into the house to gather my best friend off the floor and settle her into a new pot .

  I t was after midnight by the time I wrestled Phyllis into the biggest container I could find and made her comfortable with fresh soil and plenty of water. I swept the kitchen the best I could, but as late as it was, there was no way I was running the vacuum in the living room where the accident had originally happened. Picking up the broken shards of the old pot she’d grown out of was as close to cleaning up as I was going to get until tomorrow .

  After Phyllis reassured me for the twelfth time that she was fine, I crawled into bed and shut my eyes, grateful to be rid of such a terrible day .

  When the alarm went off, it felt like ten minutes had passed .

  I threw my hand over my eyes to block out the light coming in through the window. “Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding.” I sat up, squinted at the clock with one eye verifying that it was, in fact, morning, then trudged to the bathroom to shower and get ready .

  “Please.” I kept my eyes closed as the hot water sluiced away the grass stains and potting soil of the night before. “If any gods are listening…please. Toss me a clue, here. I’m getting nowhere with anything. I could use a little help .”

  No thunderous voice rattled the plumbing in answer. No lilting song echoed off the tiles. If there were any gods listening to me, they weren’t getting involved. Not even my mother, wherever the hell she’d run off to .

  “Might as well go to work, I guess. The only person who’s going to help me is me .”

  I dressed, grabbed a quick bite, and checked on Phyllis before I left .

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I touched her leaves, unhappy with the dry edges. “More water, maybe? Closer to the window? Farther away?” I pressed a finger into her soil. “Are you warm enough? Too warm ?”

  “I’m fine, Wynter. Really.” She lowered a branch and patted my hand. Her voice was softer than it usually was .

  I didn’t like it. “I hate leaving you like this. Do you need some fertilizer? You must be starving after a forced growth spurt like that.” Closer to her inner branches, I found some dry leaves and plucked them off to make her more comfortable .

  Phyllis shrieked in pain. “Stop! Wynter stop !”

  I dropped the dead leaves in horror. Sap the color of blood beaded up on the bare branch where I’d pruned away the leaves. “Oh, gods. Phyllis, I’m so sorry.” My hands shook. “That’s never happened before.” Tears filled my eyes and my throat constricted .

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sp; “Shh.” Phyllis stroked my arm. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. I’m fine .”

  “You’re not fine. You’re bleeding. Real blood. It’s not even green this time.” I tried to remember where Mom kept the first aid kit. Maybe I could bind the branch with gauze .

  “Sweetheart, really. The bleeding has stopped. You don’t have to do a thing.” Her tone was meant to be soothing, I was sure, but all it did was draw attention to how weak she sounded .

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to keep my voice steady. “Phyllis, you didn’t used to bleed. Why are you bleeding? This can’t just be because Grandmama forced you to grow too fast .”

  She sighed, and the sound shivered all of her leaves in a wave from top to bottom. “Things change, my love. It’s nothing for you to worry about. You have enough on your plate. We’ll talk about it later .”

  Somehow this was more alarming than having her tell me she was fine. “What changes? What’s wrong ?”

  “I’m very tired, sweetheart. Go to work. I need some rest.” She gave my arm a stroke, then went still. The only sound she made was a soft snoring .

  I suspected she was faking sleep, but I could take a hint. I blew her a kiss and left, taking my plastic-wrapped quilt and the enormous knot in my stomach with me .

  Today had to be better than yesterday. If not, I was going to change my name and move to Oceanus .

  Surely mermaids didn’t have this much to worry about .

  Chapter 14

  I went straight to Gordon’s house so I could be there before Elizabeth showed up. He was in the shower when I phased through the front door. The sound of water running and, to my surprise, cheerful humming, coaxed me down the hall .

  Gordon’s humming graduated into a song, his voice belting out the words to “Sweet Caroline.” I smiled and ducked into the studio to check for any miracles of progress .

  Apparently, Gordon hadn’t slept much the night before. Sketches of Charlotte’s face were strewn across the room. A smiling Charlotte sat propped against a blank canvas on the easel. A thoughtful Charlotte was taped to the window. Over on the table between half-empty tubes of paint, a melancholy Charlotte contemplated a bouquet of flowers in her floating hands .

  Everywhere I looked, I was greeted by Charlotte’s face .

  “Dude,” I whispered, running my hand through my hair. “Dude.” What was he going to do if she wouldn’t talk to him today? Elizabeth expected him to say goodbye. Was Charlotte in prison? A mental institution? Was she simply angry with him? I hated to admit it, but Elizabeth may have been right in her reluctance to take Gordon to see Charlotte. He wasn’t exactly stable. This could all go terribly wrong .

  A sudden thought made me shiver. What if Charlotte was dead? I shook my head. If that was the case, I couldn’t see this going well today at all .

  A key rattled in the front door. Elizabeth was a few minutes early. I glanced around the studio and frowned. If Elizabeth saw all these sketches, she might change her mind about taking Gordon to see Charlotte this morning. I figured she probably would take any excuse she could get. But as Gordon Gordon’s official Muse, I was pulling rank. He wasn’t working in the distracted state he was in. He needed this outing. If it did more damage than good, I’d deal with that later. But he was no good to anyone like he was now .

  I listened for the shower. Gordon had switched to singing “Afternoon Delight.” Elizabeth hadn’t quite managed to get the door open yet, but she let herself in all the time, so I didn’t have more than a minute .

  After turning off my invisibility belt, I jogged around the room snagging every drawing of Charlotte I could find. The pile was considerable .

  “Hello? Gordon?” Elizabeth’s voice drifted down the hall toward me .

  I stuffed the stack of paper under some old rags in the corner. They smelled like acrylic paint and linseed oil. I hit the button on my belt a second before Elizabeth came around the corner and popped her head inside. Finding nothing to grab her interest, she sniffed, then turned and left .

  I really needed to stop cutting it so closely .

  Elizabeth returned to the living room, and I trailed behind her. She settled onto the sofa to wait, and I perched on the edge of a nearby chair to glare at her and make sure she didn’t cause trouble. We didn’t wait long before a damp but fully dressed Gordon appeared, whistling and tying back his wet hair .

  I’d never seen him dressed up before. He smelled clean and wore a dark blue dress shirt with dark jeans and boots. I didn’t know he owned any jewelry, but he appeared to be wearing all of it, between the multiple gold chains and the gold bracelet .

  My fingers itched to fasten at least one more button on his shirt .

  “Ready to go?” He smiled at Elizabeth, flashing teeth I’d never noticed .

  This was a Gordon I’d never seen before. This was celebrity artist Gordon Gordon who charmed his fangirls and painted floofy pictures of unicorns. He was a completely different creature .

  Elizabeth didn’t answer for a moment, staring up at him with wide eyes. She shook her head. “Oh. Yes. Let’s get going .”

  I raised my eyebrows in surprise, finally understanding Elizabeth a little better. Elizabeth, I guessed, was in love with Gordon. Or at least the Gordon who used to be. My heart hurt a little for her. Not only was he—aside from this morning—no longer the person she’d fallen for, he was also pining for another woman who wasn’t even around. No wonder she was so bitchy .

  Gordon led the way, holding the door open for Elizabeth before closing it and locking it behind him. I tagged along, slipping into the back seat of Elizabeth’s tan four-door coupe. It smelled new inside, and I wondered at the personality of someone who would buy or lease such an unremarkable car brand new .

  If I could afford a brand new car, I’d get something that reminded me more of frosted donuts with sprinkles, not a bowl of cold oatmeal .

  My stomach grumbled and I realized I hadn’t grabbed anything for breakfast before I’d left the house .

  Elizabeth backed out of the driveway and headed down the street. I had no idea where we were going or how long it would take, but I was stuck with them for the duration, now. My car was far behind us .

  Maybe we were going someplace where I could grab something to eat on the sly. I grimaced. If I passed out from hunger, how long would it take for someone to find an invisible woman with no family to report her missing ?

  I’d have to ask Audrey sometime what the protocol was for something like that. Maybe they would track the belt or something .

  The car stopped, bringing me back to what was happening around me. Elizabeth had pulled up to the curb in the middle of downtown Topeka—a few short blocks of businesses and fairly tall buildings—so Gordon could jump out and run into a flower shop. While we waited for him, Elizabeth checked her phone, sighed heavily several times, checked her phone again .

  Gordon climbed back in the car carrying a bouquet of dozens of tiny pink roses. He grinned and held them up to show Elizabeth. “Charlotte’s favorite .”

  Elizabeth’s smile looked painful and forced. “Wonderful.” She put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. Her face in the rear view mirror was pinched, and I felt pity for her again. I didn’t like feeling bad for Elizabeth. I kind of enjoyed disliking her .

  We drove clear across town, passing half a dozen discount stores with the word “Dollar” in their names. We passed a hospital, a few run-down neighborhoods, and a few nice ones. I still had no clue where we were going, and no one else in the car spoke .

  My worst fear was realized when Elizabeth flicked her turn signal and we turned into a vast, meandering cemetery .

  “Oh, Gordon, no.” My heart sank. This would not be a day of making amends and getting back together. This really was a visit to say goodbye to Charlotte .

  Not for the first time, I worried for my client’s mental stability. He’d been in such a good mood this morning. It was as if he didn’t know Charlotte was dead .
/>   The car slowed and he sat up straighter, pointing. “Turn right up here, then left at the next junction .”

  Elizabeth cleared her throat . “Okay .”

  The sprawling cemetery was divided up into smaller neighborhoods, some with fountains or statues. Some had small flower gardens and benches, and others were far older with cracked, weathered headstones and marble cherubs. I knew the place by reputation and watched for the statue of a little girl dressed in real clothes .

  I had no idea who the statue was for, but someone always came and dressed it each season. I spotted it a moment later. The gray stone girl wore a bright red knitted hat and a thick white scarf looped around her neck. So far, the winter had been too warm for what they’d dressed her in, but it was early. I made a mental note to come back in the spring to see what she was wearing .

  We pulled off the narrow road and Gordon left the car without a word to poor Elizabeth. She looked a little green to me. After she took a few deep breaths, Elizabeth followed Gordon, and I followed them both .

  Gordon wandered to a flat plaque buried in the grass. He bent and slipped the flowers into a small hole above it. After a moment, he stood straight and stuffed his hands in his pockets, then stood looking down at the plaque without moving .

  Elizabeth stepped toward him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait for you in the car.” She squeezed his shoulder, glanced at the grave with a frown, then trudged back to her nondescript car .

  I stayed with him for a moment, caught between the need for information and the urge to give him privacy .

  He sniffled and knelt in the grass, running his fingers over the letters and numbers. “Hi, sweetheart.” He brushed away a stray hair that had blown across his face. “Sorry I didn’t come sooner.” He paused, looking around. “I haven’t been out much since you left, to be honest. I haven’t been myself .”

  A tear ran down his cheek, and I took a step backward. This was far too personal, even for a Muse to witness. I shouldn’t be there .