Misty's Mayhem Page 3

  I might only be a demigod, but I was a badass demigod. Zeus had made me that way. Love was hard freakin’ work.

  “You’re making a rather large mistake,” I said calmly, although my insides were anything but relaxed. What the hell was I supposed to do if I wasn’t Cupid? I was Cupid. I couldn’t be replaced.

  “I think not,” he argued. “Love in the human realm is lacking. You’re falling down on the job. Reports have come back to me that you’re shooting arrows at humans and cars… You can’t exactly procreate with a car. You feel me, Cupid? However, the group of humans that have been humping lawn furniture is hilarious. Was that your work?”

  I hesitated. “Is that a trick question?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Letting my head fall to my chin, I hid my grin. The old man was correct. I knew it was a no-no to make humans fall for inanimate objects, but a guy had to have some fun every now and then. What could I say? I was jaded. Love was ridiculous.

  And it wasn’t as if I could shoot myself and feel the emotions that I made others feel. Immortal species were unaffected by the arrows. The love magic was only for humans. That had been Zeus’ decision. He adored love and wanted to spread it… and the Great God of Gods knows he did. The man had more children than Poseidon, and that bastard had at least nine hundred.

  “So how long am I fired?” I asked, getting straight to the point.

  We’d played this game before—many times over many centuries. I took my slap on the wrist, or bolt of lightning to the ass, to be more accurate, and then everything went back to normal. And I had to admit, this time the Sea God was correct. I’d been slacking more than usual.

  I was distracted by a woman—not my usual modus operandi. I’d even told the Mermaid my real name for the love of everything preposterous… and yet I still didn’t know hers. I knew I should just forget about her. Sheena aka the-one-with-no-name was trouble that I didn’t need.

  I enjoyed her company far too much. Cupid wasn’t supposed to love anyone but himself.

  “You’re fired until you can get your head out of your ass. But…”

  “But?” I asked, not liking his tone.

  “But if your successor does a better job, the individual gets to keep the position,” he replied with a shrug.

  “You’ve already hired someone?” I shouted, unable to believe he’d actually gone and done it.

  “I have,” he said with a grin. “And I do believe she shall be outstanding at the job.”

  “She?” I asked, completely thrown now. “Cupid can’t be a she. Cupid is a man. I’m Cupid.”

  “No. You’re a mess,” Poseidon replied with an arched green brow. “Love is a many splendored thing and I’m going out on a limb to say you’ve lost that lovin’ feeling. Face it… you’re giving love a bad name.”

  “You done?” I asked with an eye roll.

  “Nope. I could go all day,” Poseidon replied with a delighted smirk as he opened up his ever-present bottle of rum and threw back a healthy swig. “Love is not a battlefield, it’s more like a shack. You feel me, Cupid?”

  “Yes, I feel you,” I snapped. He thought he could beat me at my own game? Not happening. The diaper wearing jackass had another thing coming. I was Cupid. Damn it—The God of Love. Love songs were in my fucking DNA. “Trust me, I know something about love, Poseidon. While I may never have been stone in love, I’ve had love many times in an elevator—a whole lotta love for your water-logged information. And just so we’re clear here, love don’t cost a thing except to my sanity. I could give two shits if you’ll still love me tomorrow and I really don’t think I love you—David Cassidy might, but I don’t. Quite honestly, I’m a victim of love. Who in their right mind would want to deal with this crazy little thing called love day in and day out for eternity?” I demanded, now on a roll. “I’ve never had a bad case of loving anyone and what the hell has love got to do with it anyway? Love is tainted. It will not keep us together and it’s utter stupidity to be crazy in love. Maybe I’m all out of love and I won’t do anything for love, but I’m still fucking Cupid. And that’s the way it’s going to stay, Water Boy.”

  “Bravo. That was outstanding,” Poseidon shouted and offered me the bottle of booze.

  I took it gladly. Didn’t matter that it was seven in the morning. It was five o’clock somewhere in the world.

  “Thank you,” I said, throwing back a swig.

  “You’re still fired.”

  “Are you fucking serious?” I asked, shaking my head in shock.

  “No, I’m Poseidon. And since you asked so nicely, I’m trying to fuck Wally,” he said.

  That rendered me silent. I’d always thought he liked the ladies with as many children as he’d sired over the centuries. Far be it from me to judge anyone.

  “Good luck with that,” I said politely, hiding my surprise that he was coming out to me after thousands of years. “Does he know?”

  “He? Are you saying Wally’s boinking someone else?” Poseidon demanded, beginning to glow a menacing green.

  “Umm… how the hell should I know?” I replied, matching his volume. “Wally’s your boyfriend. I don’t even know him.”

  The Clams ran for cover, which didn’t really bode well for me. I was immortal and a demigod so I would survive whatever the Sea God dished out, but re-growing appendages was itchy and time consuming.

  Poseidon eyed me for a long time as I held my ground ready to kick his ass if necessary.

  “I have no issue with your sexual orientation,” I commented. “Wally is a lucky man.”

  His laugh bounced through the chamber and I shrugged. Crazy didn’t even begin to cover his demeanor.

  “Thank you,” Poseidon replied, still chuckling as the Clams came out of hiding and resumed strumming some shitty background banjo music. “I’ll be sure to pass your compliment on to Wally. Wally will be delighted to hear the lucky man part.”

  I had an uncomfortable feeling that I was missing a key part of Wally’s story, but I had a much bigger problem right now. “Who have you hired to replace me?”

  “Not at liberty to share that information,” Poseidon replied with a grin as he shuffled the paperwork on his desk and played with a large lavender envelope. “I’ll be meeting with her soon. I’m going to combine a pleasure trip with work so I can write the whole thing off. Zeus will have a shit fit. He’s such a cheap whiny bastard.”

  “So that’s it? I’m done?” I asked, unable to believe this was happening.

  “Yep. You will turn in your arrows now. I’ll be leaving shortly.” Poseidon pulled out his cell phone and snapped a picture of something on his desk. “I love modern electronics. I’ve got my entire schedule on my phone. So much easier than the olden days when we had to carve everything onto fucking stone tablets. You’re dismissed, Cupid.”

  “Archer,” I ground out through clenched teeth as I dropped my golden arrows and enchanted crossbow to the ground at my feet. If he wanted them, he could fucking come get them.

  “Right. My bad. Archer, you’re dismissed.”

  My mouth dropped open. The son of a bitch was serious. Maybe the lawn furniture and cars were a little much after all.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “Good luck to my successor. She will most definitely fail.”

  “We shall see, won’t we?” he replied smoothly and stood to leave. “I’ll be back in a week. We will discuss a new career for you. You’ve become far too jaded to understand and promote love.”

  “And if she fails at my job?” I pressed, ignoring the jaded part, which unfortunately was true.

  “Then we will revisit the termination.”

  On that cryptic note, the green-haired thorn in my side disappeared, along with his talent free Clams and my arrows and crossbow. I snapped my fingers and turned the sand orange.

  When he returned he’d be pissed, but I didn’t give a damn.

  I’d just been fired from the only job I’d ever had. Unreal. I was half expecting him to show back up and tel
l me I’d been punked, but he didn’t. No, he was off to visit my replacement.

  Wandering around the grandiose office, I stopped at his pink desk and glanced down. An evil smile pulled at my lips as I examined his correspondence. The soused dummy didn’t cover his tracks very well. On top of the pile was an invitation—a wedding invitation addressed to him and Wally, his new pal.

  Bingo.

  Clearly, this was the pleasure part the Sea God was combining with business. The dates fit and now I had the location. He was going to his son’s wedding on the Mystical Isle. A little odd that immortals were having a human ritual, but then again Pirate Doug was a piece of work just like his father. Whatever. Not my problem if the son of a jackass wanted to tie himself to love.

  I was always amazed at how many immortals mated. We lived forever—literally. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing.

  Thankfully, I was far too smart to get tied down and now I had a mission. I was about to pay a visit to my replacement. I just needed to get there and find her before Poseidon did. Being as irresistible as I was, this should be a quick job. I’d make her fall for me so she’d pass on the job.

  Bing. Bang. Boom. Done.

  I was the only Cupid and I had plans stay that way.

  I was about to give love a very bad name.

  3

  Misty

  “How in the chicken of the freakin’ sea do I get myself into ginormous and potentially life ending messes like this?” I muttered to myself as I paced my suite at our somewhat successful beachfront resort.

  The need to crawl out of my skin was intense. If I had the time, I’d dive into the ocean and swim with the sharks for a week straight. It would be far safer than the job I was being commanded to accept.

  However, I didn’t have the luxury of time right now. Tallulah’s wedding was fast approaching and I had a shitshow of my own to deal with.

  Glancing in the mirror, I grimaced at the red and silver sparkles that still dusted my hair and skin. Thankfully my sisters thought it was awesome and that I was rocking a fabulous new look. If the damned glitter hadn’t forced me into taking a horrific job I didn’t want and wasn’t qualified for, I might have agreed with them.

  Archer was going to pay for this—big time. Johnson-man-tools, no matter how nice… or large… were not worth this kind of trouble.

  Normally, my cozy, sea foam green suite gave me solace. The overstuffed velvet couches in shades of celery and peach calmed my busy mind. The colorful pillows, chenille throws and the sheer palest green curtains that framed the floor to ceiling windows made me happy—but not today.

  Nope. Today I was Mermaid who may as well not have fins or a tail. I’d been handed a job by an inebriated Sea God that I had no intention of taking all just because I’d gotten laid by an asshat ten times in six hours. But that was entirely beside the point. How in the world was I supposed to be Cupid? It was beyond ridiculous. The last thing I wanted or needed was a pissed off, fat little demigod after me. And if that arrow shooting little shit came for me, he would eventually go after Archer for stealing his magic. Archer definitely deserved to have his perfect ass kicked to Mount Olympus and back, but I was going to do that—not some chubby man-child who promoted the ridiculous notion of love.

  “Shit, shit, shit. Who can I talk to?” I asked the pink stuffed starfish named Patrick that lay on my bed.

  My beloved toy simply stared back at me. He was missing one eye and was threadbare in a few spots, but I adored him. Of course, he couldn’t talk. For a brief moment, I considered using a little magic to bring him to life, but the last time I’d done that, he’d eaten the couch. I liked my couch, so Patrick stayed stuffed and inanimate.

  I couldn’t bother Tallulah with my fuck up—embarrassing pun intended. She was busy with her wedding plans to Pirate Doug of the frightening puffy shirt. My oldest sister was so happy about marrying the jackhole, there was no way in Poseidon’s Seven Seas I was going to screw that up.

  Ariel was due back tomorrow with her mate Keith. I still was clueless as to what she saw in the Selkie, but she too was wildly happy. So happy that she would be useless.

  And Madison… well, Madison was trying to teach the Sea Hags basic hygiene.

  Since Bony Velma Dustface was Pirate Doug’s sister, she would be coming to the wedding along with her sidekick, Rickety Shelia Clotlegs. They smelled like Hades on garbage day in July. Tallulah was a wreck worrying that the guests might end up asphyxiated from the stench. A pile of dead wedding guests was not on anyone’s agenda.

  Madison had drawn the small shell and had to visit the Hag cave to convince them that using shampoo and deodorant wasn’t going to kill them.

  At this point, I would have happily traded places with her, but it was far too late for that.

  “Gods, I’m an idiot. Bumping uglies isn’t supposed to end with your life being in danger from a tiny, freaky cherub-looking demigod with a vendetta,” I grumbled as I flopped down on my bed and glared at my dresser.

  The glittering emerald sat atop my antique driftwood dresser and mocked me. The perfectly cut stone caught the midday sun streaming through my open window and appeared to be winking sarcastically at me. I hadn’t used it but once in my long life. Now I was screwing up the courage to use it for the second time. Maybe.

  Archer the asswipe had given me the exquisite stone after our first rendezvous fifty years ago. It was an enchanted jewel. I normally kept it hidden in my treasure chest with my other precious and sentimental things—not that it was precious or sentimental. It was the magical version of a cell phone with direct access to the Johnson-man-tool who had landed me in a heap of trouble.

  “Okay,” I said, getting up from my bed and doing a few jumping jacks to get my blood flowing. “I can do this. I’ll call the jerkoff and tell him that I’m going to remove his Johnson-man-tool because he was stupid enough to steal from a demigod and now I’m stuck replacing fucking Cupid. Or maybe not…”

  Threatening his jewels probably wasn’t the best plan. What I wanted was for him to return what he’d stolen and maybe the entire problem would go away. Maybe Cupid was slacking off on the job because he couldn’t find his stupid magic that was still stuck to me.

  But wait… it was remotely possible that Archer didn’t even know he’d stolen from a demigod. Maybe he pilfered the enchantment from someone who he thought was an innocent, obese baby. Gods, what an ass. Why in the heck would Archer steal from a freakin’ baby?

  Why? Well, maybe because he was a gaping crack.

  “Don’t hint at castration,” I advised myself wisely. “Just tell him you want to meet up for some hide the salami and then when he gets here zap his ass until he promises to return the freakin’ magic. And maybe go a round or three before he leaves.”

  The jumping jacks didn’t do it, so I did a few cartwheels around the room hoping that would get me focused. It failed.

  “I need some help,” I said to no one.

  Or so I thought…

  “If ye want to get something from a scallywag, yer right not to lop off his pecker,” a familiar voice counseled from right outside my open window. “A mate’s disco stick is his pride and joy. I know me pocket rocket is mine.”

  “Damn it, Thornycraft,” I shouted as I involuntarily shot a blast of sparkling green magic at the window setting my curtains ablaze. “Eavesdropping is really bad form and it’s dangerous. I could accidentally incinerate you, you dumbass.”

  Waving my hand, I doused my now ruined drapery with water, walked over to the window and peeked out at the idiot Pirate who apparently wanted to offer me words of wisdom. He was crouched down in the bushes, clearly hiding.

  Or he was playing some bizarre game with his buddies, Upton and Bonar.

  They were at least a thousand years old, but still strangely childlike. Not to mention, none of us on Mystical Isle knew what kind of immortals they were. Initially, I’d assumed they were Vampires like Pirate Doug. However, Pirate Doug had to wear copious amounts of SPF 100 sunsc
reen to go outside. His crew? Not so much. Any kind of shifter species was out too since, none of them had shifted into anything during our battle with the Kraken. It was a mystery.

  Probably a mystery best left unsolved.

  Taking advice from Thornycraft, Upton or Bonar would be ludicrous, but…

  “Where are the others?” I asked, noticing he was wearing a puffy shirt quite similar to the one Pirate Doug had modeled earlier.

  “The arses are being fitted for the human marriage ritual. I barely escaped with me life when me captain tried to make me put on lacy breeches,” he explained looking terrified.

  I couldn’t blame him for that. The shirt was bad enough.

  “How much did you overhear?” I asked narrowing my eyes at the dummy.

  Thornycraft, Upton and Bonar—or the Trio of Arses as we liked to call them—had arrived with Pirate Doug when Tallulah hired extra help to deal with the Kraken problem we’d had several months ago. Of course, my sister had been unaware that she’d hired the freakjob that she’d fallen in love with right before he absconded with our treasure a hundred years ago, but she did. And now she was going to marry the puffy shirted fool. Love was seriously blind.

  Thornycraft, Bonar and Upton were Pirate Doug’s crew of arses and they’d grown on me over the past months—kind of like a rash, but a mild one that didn’t itch much.

  “Is that thar a trick question, Swimmin’ Hooker?” he asked, looking uncomfortable.

  With a roll of my eyes, I grabbed him by the travesty of a shirt he was wearing and yanked his scrawny ass through the window. He squeaked like a girl and that’s when I realized the arse wasn’t wearing any pants.

  “First off, I’m not a hooker, you little shit. I’m a Mermaid. And secondly, where are your pants?”

  “Aye, me apologies about the hooker part. Shall I call ye a harlot instead? Or would ye prefer swimmin’ streetwalker or waterlogged working girl?” he asked in all seriousness.