Westside Titan: Midlife Olympians, #3

By T.J. Deschamps

When I quit my job as a fake fortuneteller to become the Oracle, of course the job had strings attached. Olympic-sized strings.

A modern epic of Homeric proportions with romance, belly laughs, and ibuprofen chasers


Just when I thought I had it all, something foul is afoot in Milagro Bay.

On our morning run, Cerberus retrieved the unlikeliest of gifts—a foot with a limited-edition sneaker that could belong to none other than Lucky Joey, one of Carlo's crew. 

Worse than the murder of my ex's erstwhile friend, Luke is missing.

My enemies wanted me out of the picture, and they're about to get it with two more murders that point to me as the culprit.

The witches of Milagro Bay, my newfound family, Hermes, and my friends on the Supernatural Council all have my back, but what if we can't prove that I didn't do it?

As we're trying to prove my innocence, evidence has piled up that I had accomplices—namely harpies and shifters. The council itself and their involvement came into question. Conspiracies about a supernatural crime ring arise.

More important than our pending arrests, what will happen without me or the council to protect this world?

We know we're being set up, but will we be able to prove it before the entire world is in jeopardy?

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.J. Deschamps
• Release date: Oct 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798986389660

Book preview

Prologue

The bars of the gate slid to the side, giving Carlo an unobstructed view of the exterior of the cell. He remained on his bed, hands cradling the back of his head. His bunkmate above did the same. Prison protocol demanded it.

One guard stood a good foot back from the door while another entered.

Macri, you’ve got a visitor.

Carlo went through the protocol, letting the cop handcuff him.

He didn’t like the cops using his family name. He hated it more than he hated his rotten father, who’d left him to be raised by two people who only knew how things were done in the old country and bickered constantly.

No that his mother was better. She’d dumped him on his father’s doorstep before Carlo cut his first tooth and never looked back. That told him all he ever wanted to know about her.

His crappy parents were the only reason he’d stuck around for Lydia and the kid. Sure, she was a good-looking woman in her youth and never gave him too much trouble.

But, c’mon.

He was handsome, smart, and an earner. Carlo could’ve done way better than a high school dropout. Look what good staying did him! A kid who didn’t appreciate him, and a wife who ratted on him.

That one burned.

Never in a million years would he think Fran, or whatever she called herself these days, would be the type to snitch. She’d always run her own game—Madame Francine was no psychic. She was fine. Why’d she have to turn on him?

The feds knew exactly where he and his buddies were hiding. Once court came around; they knew every damned thing. Things his crew didn’t even know about his family and Carlo’s birth name—now everyone knew.

Fran had to have some sort of trace on him. He knew it. How else would he and his crew get caught?

The plan he had was foolproof, and none of his crew would snitch. They hung onto his every word, still did, even locked up.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

What’s that, Macri?

Carlo looked at his feet and shook his head. He didn’t want a visitor. There was no one on the outside he wanted to see.

The girlfriend was out the moment the cops slapped handcuffs on her.

Ungrateful whore.

She’d only been in it for the money. How did he not see she was a gold digger?

Didn’t matter.

His true family was all here. Maybe his lawyer finally got him a parole hearing, but he doubted it.

Instead of the big room where all the convicts met with their families, the two guards led him into a small room with a table and three chairs. Seated at the table was his lawyer, wearing a shit-eating grin on his too pretty face.

The other was some chick he didn’t know—a well-dressed, high society type. Dark hair, expertly styled. Makeup, minimal. Sophisticated. Streaks of gray denoted age, but she also must’ve had a hell of a face guy, because her skin was like butter, smooth and flawless.

None of it mattered. He was on the inside and unless she could get him out, he didn’t care a lick about who she was.

Neither of them greeted him.

One guard took off his handcuffs.

Carlo gave his lawyer a questioning look.

The asshole winked. Then he nodded at the guards.

The two left as if they worked for him, not the federal penitentiary.

He rubbed his wrists, watching the guards leave. With no small amount of suspicion, he took a seat at the table.

Carlo didn’t like this lawyer. Paul had come to him, swore he’d get the crew off, and convinced him to point the finger at Fran.

This was all his fault.

His ex wouldn’t have snitched otherwise. Fran wouldn’t have betrayed him, but this guy had a way of making you believe whatever he said.

Dammit.

Fran ended up giving up more about Carlo than any of his crew could ever know to save her skin. He couldn’t blame his ex. Almost. Maybe he should’ve left her some money. That would have kept her quiet.

One by one, Carlo’s crew entered the room. Each also had their handcuffs taken off. All except Lucky Joey.

Where the hell was Joe?

Joseph took a plea bargain, his lawyer said by way of greeting. He got out last week.

Murderous rage flared in his chest. His vision blurred, and his pulse thrummed in his ears.

Joey betrayed him. It cut deep. Worse than his wife ratting. They’d ran together before he’d even met Fran.

Carlo took a deep breath. It wouldn’t do to let this lawyer or the others see his pain. He’d look weak.

So why are you bothering telling us, Paul?

His crew all made noises of agreement.

Good. He hadn’t completely lost them.

His lawyer held up his hands, palms outward. Relax. I’m not done speaking.

Carlo leaned back in his chair and spread his arms. So, speak.

One of the guys chuckled.

Unperturbed, Paul spoke, I believe Joseph and your ex were working on a bigger game. Turns out Joey is a supernatural. A luck worker.

He let out a laugh. Are you saying Lucky Joey is a freaking leprechaun?

His boys laughed with him.

Leprechauns are low fae. So, no. Your former accomplice is a demigod—a grandson of Tyche, the Goddess of Luck, the looker with the lawyer said. She possessed a neutral accent that Carlo associated with the educated, and West Coast new-money types.

His lawyer added, Fortuna, to the Romans.

Carlo scoffed.

This guy with his referring to Italians as Romans and treating Carlo as if he still believed what his ancestors supposedly did.

However, supes were real. The crew’s luck had been so good and then so, so terrible, made sense if it depended on Lucky Joey.

Carlo would never admit it to anyone, but that got under his skin more than the betrayal. He’d believed it had been his smarts that had gotten them the money. Talk about a double blow to the ego.

So, again, I ask, what’s all this got to do with me? He showed his wrists. These are free now, but I can’t even walk outside this door without handcuffs.

His lawyer grinned ear to ear, and Carlo got that feeling that he was special just because this asshat smiled at him.

He pushed against it because that feeling got him into this mess.

His lawyer gave his crew the same smile.

It felt like the sun shone in the room, warming Carlo. He couldn’t fight it anymore. You can’t fight the sun.

Paul’s voice was like a melodic tune as he said, We played by their rules. Now we show them that their rules don’t matter.

The lawyer and the woman stood.

Paul had a funny-looking harp in his hand. He strummed a chord. The air behind them shimmered.

The chick walked toward what had to be an illusion and disappeared.

Your turn, gentlemen. I’ll go last, the lawyer instructed.

Some of the spell crumbled.

Carlo and his crew traded looks. He knew magic was real. He’d even seen Fran sprout wings and fly on a viral video in the prison cafeteria, but he didn’t trust it.

Paul scowled. What are you waiting for?

Why now? Carlo gestured to the portal.

His buddies murmured in agreement.

A muscle feathered in Paul’s cheek. Plans have changed. Do you wish to escape or remain here for twenty years?

In twenty years, he and his crew would be in their sixties. They would have no money, no home, nothing to support them but some halfway house program. He’d likely look old and haggard and wouldn’t be able to charm anyone. The clink sucked all that was good out of you.

What was he waiting for?

Carlo walked toward the shimmering portal, motioning for his crew to follow. The boys exchanged glances and then joined their boss.

The last thought he had before he entered was he’d make Fran and Lucky Joey pay for this.

Chapter

One

Isighed, standing in the doorway of the living room.

Hermes and Luke sat side by side on the sofa, controllers in their hands. Their eyes glued on the television. Determination set in the lines of their faces. Both were oblivious to my presence.

My son stole my boyfriend.

Juan, my future son-in-law, wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder. We’ve been abandoned, mami. We lost them to Odyssey Four: Gods versus Thieves.

I snort-laughed at the irony.

My real-life ex-husband was a thief, and my real-life current boyfriend was a god.

One was in jail, where thieves belonged. One was with me, not where he was supposed to be at all. Hermes was an Olympian, but he stayed here with me.

Carlo was never cruel to our kid, but he distanced himself emotionally when Luke came out. Teenagers, especially smart ones, picked up on the difference.

I tried to keep up the relationship between the two, but it just didn’t happen. Maybe it was for the best. My son turned out awesome. He even beat a god at a video games.

How did you steal the Golden Fleece from me again? Hermes bellowed, forgetting his voice boomed and the house shook when he got emotional.

Instead of being afraid of the god’s wrath, Luke wheeze laughed. He finally managed to say between bursts of mirth, Skill issue.

The god’s perfect face was a blend of Mediterranean features twisted with confusion and indignation. I am quite skilled. Adept at things you couldn’t imagine.

Heat rose to my cheeks as some skills he wasn’t likely referring to came to mind.

Luke clapped the god’s shoulder. I’m sure being a god makes you good at a lot of things, but I’ve been playing video games longer.

Hermes opened his mouth to speak. I could see the rise to the challenge burning in his eyes.

You two about ready to wrap it up so we can eat dinner? I asked, interrupting before my boyfriend demanded to play another round.

My son and Hermes both swung their heads in my direction, blinking in unison. I’d been standing there for ten minutes.

Juan chortled behind me, remarking in an amused tone, Achievement unlocked. Gamer haze lifted.

Hermes and Luke weren’t the only ones who noticed me.

At the word dinner, Cerberus lifted his three heads from his dog bed in the corner. Each head possessed a distinct personality, but when it came to food, all three were on the same page.

I thought after the battle that Persephone would want Cerberus back, but she said as long as I was Oracle, he should stay and guard me. Which was fine by me.

He pushed to standing, woofed, and placed himself in front of the television.

Luke and Hermes exchanged a look of defeat. Cerberus wouldn’t move until everyone headed for the dining room. The two chuckled, rising together.

My son slipped past me, taking his fiancee’s hand.

Hermes slid an arm around my waist, kissing my cheek.

The four of us and Cerberus headed to the dining room where Arachne and Nora already sat. Juan and I had done the cooking while the two priestesses had set the table with our usual weekend family dinner arrangement.

The back door creaked open. Sorry I’m late! Nicky shouted from the kitchen. I brought brownies!

Come on in, mom, I shouted back. I was still getting used to calling her that, but we both liked it.

Soon we were all seated at the dining room table, passing dishes around and catching up. I scooped some of the main dish, carne asada and a bit of all the sides in Cerberus’s dish after I served myself. Then I set the loaded doggy trough on the floor next to me.

Hermes’s leg touched mine. He liked to eat with some part of his body connecting to mine. Actually, Hermes was extremely affectionate. He seemed to always be pushing my hair out of my face or laying a hand on the small of my back while I did something. Even when we sparred, he’d sneak a peck on the cheek. Sometimes he’d throw down his weapons and cup my face for a kiss, surrendering the fight and conquering my heart at once.

Despite being touch starved for years, the constant connection took some getting used to. Not that I didn’t enjoy it. We’d had so much happen in a short amount of time. Knowing it could all end, I didn’t take a single caress for granted.

My gaze swept over those seated at the table: a loving partner, close friends in Arachne and Nora, a mother in Nicky, my son, and a bonus kid in Juan. I even had a sister-in-law in Athena. She sometimes came to these dinners, but not always. I had so much to lose now, and that thought made me uncomfortable as heck. A little voice inside me said, Don’t get used to this. They’ll all leave.

I told the voice to shut up and squeezed Hermes’ knee under the table.

Mischief danced in the god’s dark eyes, and a wicked grin spread over his shapely mouth as he poured only a splash of wine into our glasses.

Oh yeah. As soon as the guests left, we were definitely heading upstairs.

Luke cleared his throat. Another video has surfaced.

The room silenced, except for Cerberus’s three heads taking turns chomping and slurping the scraps I’d served him.

The cleanup of the aftermath had taken a while, and I didn’t mean just the physical evidence of the battle. One video after another surfaced.

Someone recorded when Hermes caught ma midair, Luke announced.

My heart flip-flopped in my chest. The gods were under strict orders from both ISEA and the Supernatural Council of the Americas to not intervene with affairs of this world. Hermes could be banished to Olympus.

Hermes gripped my hand. That happened so fast, they won’t be able to identify me.

Someone slowed it down. You can see your faces clearly, Juan said in a soft voice.

I squeezed Hermes’s hand back, hating that my fear might come to fruition.

Nicky set down her glass of wine. ISEA exiled Lucinda for her part in the attack.

I thought the council covered that up.

Luke and Juan exchanged a glance. I knew that look. They were deciding which would give me bad news. Luke ended up with the duty. That’s the problem. You can’t cover things up anymore.

Juan gave me a sympathetic smile. There’s a camera on every phone, ma. Charybdis was big enough to be seen from Port Angeles.

What about her kids and husband?

Nicky frowned. Lucinda and her whole family are staying at the palace until Persephone can find them accommodations.

My brows furrowed. Worry and anger warred in my chest. We were all well and truly fucked if ISEA decided to act upon these videos and exile everyone. Part of me raged we would be exiled for saving the mundanes. Yeah, the attack was on Milagro Bay where supes lived, but anyone on the strait or beach could’ve been killed.

We’ll lie low for a while, Hermes said, interrupting my ruminations. With Athena petitioning father to investigate Apollo for his part in all of this, my brother doesn’t dare make another move.

So far, Apollo had other people acting for him or in retaliation of his actions. I met eyes with Luke. Outside of Milagro Bay, my son was a potential target.

After dinner, I pulled him into the divination room. I gave readings there to local supes because it was the only soundproof room in the house. The room was also the perfect place for a private conversation.

Maybe you should stay and work from here until we know what’s happening,

Ma, I can’t. He rested his hands on my shoulders. More importantly, I don’t want to. Remember what you told me when that principal tried to make me go to another school ‘for my safety’?

I didn’t know how one had to do with the other, but I replied, "Yeah. I said you weren’t doing anyone any harm, and they were in the wrong if they tried to make you