Crazy in the Blood (Latter-Day Olympians) by Lucienne Diver

did.”
    “Lord, Tori, a man likes to be asked. Women don’t let us get away with that kind of crap.”
    “I’m not most women. I’m liberated. Hence the fact that I just asked you out on a date.”
    “Oh, was there a question in there?”
    I huffed. At what point did we get past the banter and into the deeper stuff? Not that I was particularly good at that or any less at fault than Armani. Nick . But…
    “Will you? Save me from my nutty family and the singles table at the wedding?”
    “Well, since you put it so romantically… I’d be thrilled to escort you. But, fair warning, I don’t chicken dance.”
    The very visual surprised a laugh out of me. “Duly noted.”
    When we rang off I felt like I’d just been through a kickboxing match. I wondered who had won. At least I had a date for the wedding. Now all I had to do was find a dress and the stand-in father of the bride.
    I turned to go back in and nearly jumped as the phone rang in my hand. I checked the display and saw that it was Jesus. It was well after five, which meant it was either a personal call (unusual) or something big had kept him at the office after hours (even more so).
    “Chica, what the hell is going on?” he asked as soon as I picked up.
    Since the potential answer covered a lot of ground, I really needed more specificity. “What?”
    “I’m still at the office,” he said, answering that question. “Do you know why?”
    Gods save me from men who asked more questions than they answered. It was like an epidemic. “No, why?”
    “Because a Godzilla-sized dog…I’m talking a Hound of the Baskervilles, huge black beast, dripping drool and menace…parked outside the door and wouldn’t let me leave. I had the phone in my hand to call animal control when his trainer or whatever came calling.”
    “Trainer?” I said stupidly.
    “Tall, dark and deadly. Wild black hair, skin pale as any New Englander, six foot five or so, shoulders out to here.” I could only imagine. “Looked like he could melt me with his eyes. And not in the good way.”
    “Doesn’t sound like anyone I know,” I said honestly. “What did he want?”
    “You. And again, not in the good way. It sounded more like he wanted to murder, not hire you.”
    “Where is he now?”
    “Gone. I wouldn’t tell him where you were, but that dog of his—I couldn’t stop him from sniffing around. I think he left with one of your gym shoes. I don’t think he can track you all the way to San Fran, but…I had to warn you.”
    “But you’re okay? He didn’t hurt you?” It was on the tip of my tongue to ask how many heads the dog had, but I supposed Jesus, drama queen that he was, would have mentioned a little thing like a couple of extra heads.
    “My nerves aren’t all that are shot. I could use a spa day.”
    I ignored the hint. For now. Christmas bonuses were still a good many months away, and the deductible on the damage Poseidon had done to our offices weeks before had wiped out any budgetary frills.
    “Did he leave a name or number?”
    Jesus sighed again when I didn’t pick up the hint. “Both. His name is Hadrian Boss, and—”
    Hades . Had to be.
    Jesus read off the number, but I had to make him repeat it twice to commit it to memory. I wondered if they’d finally installed cell towers in Hell or whether Hades was going to be topside for a time.
    “Jesus, I doubt this will ever come up but just in case…don’t go anywhere with this guy and don’t eat anything he might offer you.”
    I could practically hear Jesus rolling his eyes. “Right, no candy from strangers and never get into their car. I learned all that when I was five.”
    “I’m dead serious.”
    “So am I,” he answered, and for once he sounded it. “You don’t grow up on my side of the tracks and not know a thing or two. Don’t worry, I had my nine mil pointed at his cojones the whole time. He never even knew it.”
    “Great,” I said faintly. I wondered what kind of bullets worked on