Rob Thurman - Grimrose path

At least he didn't until Cronus gave Leo the answer he wouldn't give me. It was one word. It didn't need to be any more than that.

One word to tell us why a Titan would devour Lucifer and make that Hell his own.

"Rose."

It's what I said as soon as Eli manifested in my bar. I'd called him since Armand wasn't going to be making any calls ever again. Cronus had left after giving us our answer, losing interest in his pet Loki quickly or on the way to bag more demon wings-it didn't matter. He had slowly spun out of existence, streamers of faux skin and the slickly spongy material beneath it disappearing like a dust devil settling slowly to die. He took the wings and the checkerboard with him. The dead man and puddle of Armand he left behind.

I'd told him the Titan was gone, but Eli was no fool. He waited a good two hours before he showed up. Two hours I'd spent mopping up Armand while Leo covered up the tourist with a sheet. We'd seemed to have lucked out and he was either alone, a regular Vegas gambler who made the pilgrimage several times a year, or he wasn't alone, but whoever he was with had no idea where he'd gone. It was sad to say that if he were a lonely gambling addict with no one in his life to miss him, it would be a good thing for us. Sometimes to do good, you take the risk of others being hurt. It shouldn't be that way, but there are a lot of things in life that shouldn't be as they are.

The physicist I'd once hung over a volcano hadn't explained that one. The nature of time was simple. Why all things weren't fair and just-he hadn't had a clue on that one. Mama would say it's all about balance. There can be no good if there's no evil. No right if there's no wrong. No light if there's no dark. Then again, there's often no mac if there's no cheese.

The last perked me up and I had less of a desire to impale Eli with the mop handle as he straightened his tie, although the mop was a loss anyway. You couldn't get demon out of anything, not even cleaning utensils. I'd already leaned it against the doorway leading to the alley for disposal.

"I suppose I don't have to watch my back against Amdusias any longer, although you can feel free to watch any part of me, front or back."

He was wearing all black. Black suit, black silk shirt, black tie with a muted pattern in a different weave. Even a black rose, ironically. "I'm in mourning for my comrade killed in action." He spread his arms and did a turn so we all could get a good look. "But I'll still be sexy. It can't be avoided."

"I do believe it can." I did the shot of whiskey sitting in front of me. I was sitting two tables over from the one holding up the dead man. "In so many ways. I don't need Leo's help either, not that he wouldn't enjoy it."

"Just like old times," Leo offered from behind the bar, having his own whiskey. His mood was more positive than mine… because it was like old times for him-a faint reflection of them anyway. He might not be that way anymore, but memories were memories, and whether the world judged them differently didn't matter. They were Leo's to do with as he pleased. If he felt nostalgic versus guilty, as long as he didn't reenact those days, it wasn't my business how he felt about his mental echoes.

Still, Leo's upbeat was Loki's upbeat and Eli saw that plain as day. He came in smooth as oil on water, wary with the one whom he still thought a god. "I was always a fan of Vikings. Brawny men. Brawny women. Hard-drinking and hard-killing. And when they die-Valhalla. More hard drinking and hard killing. Destruction all the way around. What's not to like?"

"The killing in Valhalla isn't permanent. The next day the dead come back and that's what's not to like." Leo swirled his whiskey. "I like my destruction very permanent, but that's me, and not some worthless lizard who imagines he can comment on my playground, much less survive in it." It might've been odd to someone else seeing an American Indian telling you the downside of Norse afterlife from personal experience. But Leo had made his body as I'd made mine. He could deal with the details of that confusion on his own.

But tiptoeing around a god versus his ego, Eli didn't have a chance when he made that choice. "Ah, such a mouthy and aggressive god. Your playground, eh? Perhaps one day we'll see… when I beat you to death with a large set of monkey bars." Eli shifted his attention back to me. "'Rose' is what you're telling me Cronus said. Rose and only rose. Nothing else. Pardon me if I find that both wildly mysterious and completely inadequate." The emphasis on "inadequate" was as black as the suit.

He sat at the table with me, suddenly holding a glass of wine, which he raised to toast the dripping black mop leaning against the door frame. "Valeas, Amdusias. You were an almost satisfactory minion. Now, Trixa, my one true love, shower me with roses and explanations and we won't have to find out who is the baddest and most toned of asses around." He took a sip of wine. "Although the last, I think we both know, is obvious." His lips curled with a smug satisfaction. Smugness and Eli almost always went hand in hand.

I didn't pay attention to the ass part since I did know the answer and I didn't like it. "Since the big badass demon was too afraid to show up for two hours, we had time to hit the trickster network and linked up the word 'rose' with Cronus." I waited and I made him ask. Any chance to stick it to the demon whose ass might be a little bit more toned than mine.

"And?" He tapped his fingers on the wood of the table. "I can't believe you're so petty. Wait, you're a trickster, so yes, I do."

"Yes, I am, and yes, I am." I took the glass from his hand and a swallow of the wine myself. It was excellent. "Cronus, the Titan, a creature I wouldn't believe could love, did fall in love with, of all imaginable things, a human. That's why I was in the dark regarding any motivation for his psychotic behavior-not that he needs motivation. The few tricksters who heard the story passed it off as the very worst concocted of rumors, and we love rumors, even more than the truth. But a Titan falling in love? With a human? That was too ridiculous to repeat or toss into our gossip network. Yet the ridiculous and unthinkable turns out to be true or Cronus wouldn't be waging war on Hell. He did fall in love… with a woman. Rose, Rosemary, Rosita-no one knows her exact name, only that she was his Rose."

"Was," Eli exhaled. "I sense a pattern here. Was. She was his Rose." He let his head fall back to stare at the ceiling glumly. "Let me guess. His Rose was a naughty, naughty girl. Stupid, stupid human."

"Maybe not that naughty. But she wanted fame, fortune, what most humans want, and Cronus, to test her love, loved her as a human. In a human body I'm guessing he was a damn sight more convincing than the one he showed up in here today." I grimaced slightly. Bad work was bad work, whether it was lack of talent or just not giving a rat's ass. "Emotions too. For some reason, maybe boredom, he did become human, if only temporarily. He felt as a human feels, he loved as a human loves, and Rose thought he was human. She didn't know about paien or Titans. But she knew about demons when one came around and enlightened her, tempted her, and then she traded her soul for what Cronus could have given her for free."

"He wanted proof that she could love him without knowing what he was and what he could give her and she ended up in Hell because of it-well, that and her human nature. I like that story. With the greed, lust, and pride, and being damned to Hell, it would make a nice combination of Edgar Allan Poe and O. Henry." Eli looked back down, took the wineglass back from me, waved his hand over it, and refilled it. "Water to wine is easy. Air to wine is much more impressive. Now you're telling me that Cronus is going to walk through Hell and go mano a mano or Titano a Demonio with Lucifer because some random demon took the soul of his lovely if shallow Rose."