“What are you doing here? In case I wasn’t clear, I don’t feel comfortable with you in my city.”
Apollo sat back, his eyes nearly closed.
“I would have thought being all-knowing would include security cameras.”
Still nothing. Hank smiled and leaned closer. No signs of being beaten or roughed up at all. The officers had been gentle when they took him in. Hank’s long experience on the force made it easier to identify which suspects had been resisting prior to being cuffed. Nothing about Apollo indicated any of the telltales of taking a few kicks to the abdomen or ribs. He wore a clean track suit an tennis shoes.
“So this was you then?” Apollo asked.
“How do you mean?”
The eyes that frowned at him were level, as if Apollo was more disappointed than angry. He glanced around the room.
“All of this.”
Hank nodded his head once. “I had them pick you up after rechecking the tape. Who are your friends Apollo?”
Apollo turned his attention to the one way mirror on the wall. He stared at his own reflection, narrowing his eyes as if unfamiliar with his own face.
Maybe he isn’t. Hank thought.
“It is uncanny how close our faces are to before.”
Or I could be wrong. Hank mused. “How do you mean?”
“Our features are similar. Not exactly right, but pretty close. Isn’t that strange?”
“Do you think that means something? Is somebody the great architect?”
“Did somebody do this to us you mean? Zeus? No, this is beyond him.”
“Maybe not Zeus.”
“Some other? Open warfare would be the result.”
“Perhaps that is why they stay hidden.”
Apollo nodded but didn’t respond. Once again, his eyes drifted to the mirror on the wall. Does he know how many officers are looking back at him right now? The Descendants were a rare commodity. It wasn’t a stretch to assume that this was the first interrogation of one of them.
“What were you doing at the Basement Apollo? Many of my colleagues are saying you were there to make sure you cleaned up the whole mess. Maybe to make sure you didn’t leave anything behind that might identify you. Did you  kill Jesus Christ Apollo?”
“Jesus Christ has killed more gods and goddesses than any other in history…and mortals too for that matter.”
“So you shot him.”
Apollo looked startled. “No, I didn’t shoot him! But I can’t really say I mourn for him either. He wasn’t part of my family.”
“I would think you’re all kin now.”
That wasn’t what Apollo wanted to hear. He turned his nose up as if smelling something spoiled. Hank kept finding himself studying his mannerisms and facial expressions. It was almost like a mask. Their faces were unfamiliar to even themselves, regardless of what the god purported. Every emotion was hard to read. It as as if Apollo’s eyes rested behind a hardened fleshy caricature of the human face. Hank found it repellent.
“You didn’t answer me.”
Apollo took a sip of coffee and stared down at the cup.
“I was doing what you’re doing. Trying to figure it out.”
“Processing the scene?”
“Yes.”
“Except you just told me you couldn’t care less who killed him. So-”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know! I might be next after all.”
Hank paused. “We saw three maybe four other bodies moving about in there as well. They weren’t as dip-shitted as you and steered clear of the cameras. So, who were they?”
“I have no idea.”
“Really.”
Apollo looked sharply at Hank, who had stood up and was leaning against the back wall. He placed his hands behind his back and stared at the god shackled to the desk.
“Do you ever want to get out of that chair? We don’t necessarily have to run you through the usual indictment and litigation process. You’re not technically an American citizen. We can throw you in a hole Apollo, forever and ever. We put ourselves through hell all the time, what do you think we’ll do to you?”
Apollo opened his eyes and was looking at him. For the first time, Hank caught a scent of fear from the god. But there was something else. A raw animosity. Apollo was a lion in a cage that was tired of being prodded. He could erupt into violence before this was over.
“You think I’m lying? Go back an check your tape. I hid form them too. I had no idea who they were so I thought it best to stay hidden.”
Hank knew he was telling the truth. The security monitor had shown no interaction between Apollo and the mysterious shadows. Still, he had hoped Apollo would provide a name or possible description of who they were. In his seat, the god had paused and appeared to be plotting his next move. Hank edged around the chair to make sure that the cuffs were still tightly secured around his hands. Satisfied, he sat back down.
“I know the Tengu came to you.” Apollo said.
For a second, Hank felt as weightless as if he’d fallen backward in his chair. His shock was unmistakable and Apollo picked up on it immediately. “Word get around Officer.”
“Detective.” Hank whispered.
“Whatever. Tell me, do you think the Maharishi-ten is without an agenda? How much did you sell your soul for to the Japanese goddess? Do your fellow officers know of your exploits with her?”
Hank suppressed the urge to smash his fist into Apollo’s face. “Do tell.”
Outside the door, rumblings could be heard. Hank knew what Apollo had said was now rippling through the precinct. He also knew that had been the god’s intent. Hank must be cautious now. How much did the god know? He knew of the Tengu and Japanese gangster goddess. He knew she had hired him and that they had met up. But beyond that, what else was there?
“I don’t know what she wants with you nor do I care but just know, you can’t trust her.”
“I don’t trust her.”
“Her every move is designed to ensure the survival of her lotus.”
At Apollo’s words, Hank felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Lotus?
“And what is that? Lotus?”
“I think you already know Officer. After all, she’s your friend.”
“Tell me how you know she made contact with me.”
“She hasn’t yet. Not really. She came to you through her Tengu courier.”
“And?”
“And the underground railroad runs deep Officer. This city is has many lines of information. But you’d have to leave the comfort of downtown in order to find it.”
“You mean No Quarter. Are the Descendants living in No Quarter?”
Apollo shook his head. “I couldn’t say.”
Hank studied the god for a moment. “The Maharishi’s lotus?”
Apollo sent his gazer back to the mirrored wall. He scowled at his reflection. “The lotus must stay in fixed positions. She can’t wander all through the night ensuring the prosperity of her enterprises.”
“Her business. Is it drugs Apollo? Is she running narcotics?”
Casually, Apollo sat back in his chair and laid his hands on the table, palms up. When he did not speak, Hank cleared his throat.
“Well?”
This time Apollo didn’t break his silence. Hank almost smiled. While not giving anything detailed, the god had revealed much about the Descendant population in the city. He would have to take another look in No Quarter. If there was anywhere in the city that a murder suspect would try to hide, it would be there. Too bad Hank had worked that slum for the past seven years and knew all the hiding places.

Ariadne and Dionysus...some backstory

"We all hope you have a wonderful life here." The crewman told the slender, fawnlike princess who stared horrified at the desolate island that was quickly growing larger with every passing moment.
"Well, I'll tell you. If he wanted to hide me from the world, this would be the place to do it. I think I'll pass, you can take me back to the labyrinth.
"Can't be done." The crewman choked. His gaze fixed ahead, a twitch below his left eye was the only indication that the woman, was, in fact, staring him down.
He had said it would be a place to themselves. He had said they would make a life together. Well, isn't that what they always said?
"What is this island?"
The crewman swallowed hard. "Dia?"
"Dia."
"Yes, princess."
She fixed the crewman with such a look of disgust that he immediately wished he were below deck.
"I've seen a lot of islands but nothing as empty as this. I'd rather be on the water. Can you arrange that? Where's Theseus?"
Ariadne marched across the deck with an overfull, splashing goblet of wine in one hand and a dinghy oar in the other. The crewman watched her go. They all wished her well, or more accurately, wanted to wish her well. The princess was just difficult. The lady looked as though she would never really be at home anywhere. She walked with purpose but did it like somebody ready to stop and change directions at any moment.
The crew unloaded the ship directly on the beach; telling Ariadne that she'd have to trudge her collection of various size cases up to where she planned to stay. They were short for time and the weather was coming in. Ariadne took the news like a sailor: stoically nodding, she began to curse wildly and hurled a suitcase over her shoulder. She was used to times like these. It had been her thread that allowed the good for nothing out of the labyrinth.
Perhaps she should have taken in with the minotaur? Of course Theseus was handsome. All the girls said so. His brown hair and dark eyes. The way the dimples creased his face every time he smiled. The vacant look he'd given her when she had tried to calmly explain how her thread would lead him out of the maze. Oh yes, he was crafty. But not a hero.  Ariadne had seen more heroism from the crabs she was currently stomping on her way up the beach.
But he had promised to marry her. And she had come along. Truth be told, she knew they weren't a good match. Although they were of comparable age, Theseus was young. Very young. More than one she'd remarked about something just to turn and see his beautiful bewildered face gazing at her blankly. It took Ariadne all of ten minutes to figure out what the gods had exchanged for his good looks. But she remained steadfast, even a little eager. They were to start a life together. Nevermind if it was alone, on an island, out of sight of even the gods. They could make it work.
She placed her dresses on a pile of banana leaves, careful to kick any creature, winged or clawed that came too close. She showered under a waterfall and sat eating a mango. She scanned the area and noticed Theseus still at the beach and staring out at the open sea.
She put her coal black hair up and marched over wearing nothing but an agreeable smile. Ariadne stood in front of him, a hackneyed look of disgust darkened her features.
"What am I doing here?"
"Princess, this is an island called-'
"Princess knows it's an island Theseus. But what am I doing here? I didn't just show you out of a maze to end up barefoot and pregnant on some gods forsaken rock. I swear I'll hang myself if we're to stay here for more than a few days."
"Princess," Theseus stammered.
The crew were all starting to look at them now. A few gawked, her nakedness was something they had all wondered about on those long nights at sea. Theseus turned his head away and she grabbed him by the chin forcing his eyes to her. "Take me out of here right now." She said. "Or tell me what we're doing."
Theseus licked his lips, his mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. He tried to summon the authoritarian tone of a hero or even the amiable voice of a husband but failed at both. What came out was a pitying croak followed by muttering. Ariadne squinted as if he'd just gone all out of focus.
"You don't know do you?" Ariadne said softly. "This better not be something from the pythia."
"The prophetess speaks for Apollo, Princess."
"Yeah, we know. Did she tell you to sail me out here? I swear Theseus, I'll cut-"
"No this wasn't the oracle." He interrupted.
"A few days." Ariadne softly said. She then turned and walked away.
She was awake early the next morning. She put on a blue dress, and walked out to the beach. The view she got was more than a little jarring. Backlit by the rising sun, her husband's ship, indeed the entire fleet, were sailing away.
Ariadne blinked once then looked away. Watching the boats drift farther away was a succinct reminder of how cowardly Theseus did things. It was not enough to abandon her, he had to do it in secret. He was scared. She walked back to camp and sat on a pile of banana leaves. She ate a mango. She slept again for awhile then woke to what she thought was a cat yowling. After a long pause, she walked back to the beach.
Ariadne had no doubt that Theseus was gone. He had meant to sail her to this island and leave her. That had been the plan. He wanted to to be rid of her. That was fine. Perfect.
An hour after Theseus sailed off, Ariadne bend and began to pray to the gods. She got nothing but silence. It was an eerie quiet, even the breeze coming off the ocean had become still. Her ears outstretched, she called out to the gods. Still nothing. Ariadne gritted her teeth, on the verge of screaming. The hot, caked sand under her feet, she switched the prayers for curses and spent the next forty five minutes cursing every god and goddess she could think of, even the unimportant ones.
Again she thought she heard the yowling of a large cat somewhere in the jungle and sprinted out to the surf. She wasn't sure why she thought the ocean would be adequate protection but given the choice of drowning or being torn apart by a jungle cat, she'd take the water. The she saw it. Stepping out of the brush perhaps a hundred paces from where she had slept, a large cat emerged. It looked to be a cheetah. It was hard to be sure. The feline noticed her straight away. Its muzzle rose in the air and sniffed. Ariadne stood up straight, fully prepared to make this cat swim if it thought to make her a meal. But it didn't approach. Nor did it eave. Instead, it ate her breakfast, yawned, and put its head down to sleep.
Ariadne felt this was a personal affront. "Hey!" She called out from the water line. "Shoo!" Digging her nails into her palms, she took a few steps towards the beach then swan dived back to the water when she saw a second cheetah come out of the brush.
She waited patiently, clicking her teeth and now frigid from having her barefeet in the water for hours. She inspected and found them wrinkled as raisins. I can't stand here all night. She thought. She walked up the beach. She planned to find a safe place to sleep then build another camp in the morning. Her plan went awry immediately. The cheetahs got up and followed her down the beach. They're stalking me! / She picked up a rock and hurled it at the pair who were matching her in stride. One of them shrunk away. Ha! See?
She yelled and spat and thrashed around until the second cheetah sauntered off then prepared a camp. She had to trudge back and forth to retrieve her belongings and by sun down was in need of another shower. Ariadne dipped her head underneath the waterfall, letting the cool force of it massage her forehead and scalp. She was stiff from the anxiety of being abandoned, her knees ached and the shadows forming around her as night approached were thick as fog.
Then she heard screaming. Eyes wide, she stared into the darkness. She heard something pop, like a twig breaking and yelped. She thought of the cheetahs and made to build a bigger fire. It would be enormous, large enough that even the gods would see it from on high. Before long, she'd built a blaze that was nearly out of control. She stood in front of it, feeling the heat dry her tresses.
Then she heard something that was so out of place she questioned her own senses. Off in the distance but growing louder was the crashing of cymbals. Ariadne knew the sound from her time in theater and was sure. She craned her neck, stepped a few feet into the darkness of the jungle and listened as the sounds got louder. But there was something else. Tambourines? Yes. She also heard tambourines echoing through the trees. Perhaps the island wasn't abandoned after all. Maybe she could still make it out of here.
Ariadne sat on a large tree that had been blown over during a recent storm. She folded her legs underneath her and ate a mango. Then, to her shock and horror, both cheetahs steps languidly out of the shadows and approached the fire. Ariadne gulped a large piece and looked about her for a large rock or stick.
Each had their eyes on her. The large cats were even larger up close. Each one easily as tall as Ariadne's waist. She rose up on her knees and was reaching for a giant crab when the cymbals and tambourines exploded only feet from her camp. Ariadne screamed and clasped her hands to her ears. She opened her mouth and was drowned out by the whooping and hollers of perhaps two dozen men and women emerging from the trees in a procession.
Ariadne stood with her mouth ajar, mango still stuck to her lips. It dropped and onto the ground. A cheetah came and snatched it up, purring as it curled up just on the edge of camp. Then out of the shadows, a man materialized. He was tall and thin, long brown hair fell into his face as he fought to keep from spilling an abnormally large wine goblet. He stopped, his eyes roaming up and down Ariadne.
"Are you real?" He asked.
"Is that a bucket?" She replied and nodded towards the cup in his hand.
"If it was a bucket, it still wouldn't be large enough." He said, almost too seriously. "Silenus! Come fill my bucket!"
A large bear of a man stepped forward. He began to pour an obscene amount of red wine into the half empty glass. "Boy, if you walk into a tree, we're leaving you."
"Certainly not. Besides, I have found the spirit of the isle to look after me."
Ariadne frowned.
"Isn't that right?" He prodded.
"Dionysus stop." Silenus replied.
Ariadne held out her hand. "Give it to me."
Dionysus handed the goblet over sheepishly. Ariadne took a sip then handed it back to Silenus who handed it then back to Dionysus. The switching hands happened so fast that Dionysus was puzzled to find the cup back in his hand.
"Oh."
"Dionysus, is it?" Ariadne said cooly. "You're named after the god is that it? A name amongst of friends?"
There was no pause. Dionysus said. "Yes, something like that."
As he said this, two woman coiled around his legs and stared up at him adoringly. The wind that had been a slight breeze picked up into gale force winds. The cymbals and tambourines began to clash in crazed dissonant ways. The whoops transformed into shrieking. Ariadne stepped back and covered her ears. She felt a pressure on the base of her skull. It was a compulsion. She wanted to rave. She could feel it in her bones, the sinew of her muscles wanted, or needed to dance. She dug her nails into her palms, resisting the urge to leap and wail. Around her, madness had taken over. There was fighting and fornication. Even the sex was violent, a wild bucking and animal screams.
Then as quick as it came on, the wind died. And so with it the pressure on her skull. She looked around as everybody awoke as if out of trance. She saw them stumbling, offering bewildered apologies and filling their cups with red faces.
"They're ashamed." Ariadne said.
"No, they're not."  Dionysus countered. "They're blessed."
"Blessed in madness? The grace of insanity really isn't grace...or a gift."
Dionysus inclined his head towards the fire. Its crackles sending up steady bursts of light like stars. They rose and winked out while the god stared and Ariadne bit into a mango.
"A signal fire?"
"I assume you have a boat?"
"There's no need for a boat."
Ariadne took a deep breath. She felt the god's eyes on her and suddenly wondered of she was naked again. The god smiled. He leaned in until their foreheads were almost touching. "It wouldn't be out of place here." He whispered.
Ariadne suppressed a smile. "You smell like cheap wine."
Dionysus took a long look at the mortal woman in front of him. Flaxen hair and freckles, hazel eyes and long, sinewy limbs. She would be enormously pretty if not for the scowl that just filled her whole face. She was a half naked walking scowl. Still, the god was perplexed. One, she was alone on a desert island and didn't seem terrified, in truth, she was barely preoccupied with the matter. Two, she wasn't in the least impressed at being approached, rather loudly, by a god. This second matter was really the most pressing. Why wasn't she impressed? Had she met other gods? Was this a regular event for her? She'd even be extraordinarily strong in resisting his compulsory nature. She wasn't immune, he knew. She had wetted her lips while in the heat of him. He knew her appetites had been awakened. But she remained cool. That steely scowl dropping for only an instant.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"None of your business."
"You do realize the island is uninhabited?"
"Are you following me? You and your...cats." She inquired.
"It wasn't hard to see you given half the island is on fire." He replied tonelessly.
She turned. For a split second Ariadne was backlit by the flames and Dionysus felt his knees go weak because he saw something else in her. Something he hadn't noticed before. He saw a white light on the surface of her skin, a ripple of heat. She was all but naked and encased in light. And then he knew. He looked out at the water, his unease now apparent.
"What?" She asked.
"Theseus doesn't know. He abandoned you but he doesn't know."
"Doesn't know what?"
"The strangest, most obvious truth."
Something in his voice caused Ariadne to take a step toward him. She caught herself involuntarily and stopped.
"When he turned his back on you, he turned his back on Aphrodite."
He meant to convey indifference, something suggestive of apathy but warmth in his voice betrayed him completely.
"Dionysus, what do you mean?" She asked.
The god perked up at the sound of his name. "He transgressed the goddess, turned his back on her."
"But I'm not-"
"No, but she was with you. Love was with you."
He waited for her to deny it.
"He had other ambitions." She said unevenly.
"I know."
The procession had now circled around and was making its way down the shoreline with Silenus at its head. The booming and pounding of cymbals echoed down the beach and Dionysus grinned from ear to ear. Behind Ariadne's head, a snake had perched on a branch, its flicking tongue at her bare shoulder. Dionysus could see the serpent as it slid past her arm and coiled around her midsection. Perhaps it was his incredulous giggle that brought Ariadne around. She arched forward, her left arm barely missing the serpent as it slithered down the side of her body.
"What is it?" She asked.
Dionysus made his way to her side, trailing a finger down her shoulder and the back of her arm. When she glanced down, Ariadne stood as rigid as one of the palm trees that towered overhead. She looked up and into the eyes of the god, Dionysus thought she looked endless. An enduring fire alone on a beach.