“So…” Quick ran his long tongue around a fang.”… Cool party.”
“Thanks.”
Awkward silence passed between them.
“How long have you known Lucky?” she asked to make conversation.
“A while now,” replied Quick. “He helped me out when I was going through a rough time.” He flapped his wings. “I mean, I only turned my back for a second. Who’d have thought a few conquistadors could cause so much trouble?”
“Yeah, that was a helluva thing,” she agreed.
“Y’know, he was only joking about the altar thing,” said Quick. “I was never into human sacrifice, even when it was legal.”
“Oh, I know. Conquistador propaganda.”
“Damn straight.”
They tapped their beers together and shared a swig.
A dryad stuck her head out the door. “Excuse me, but where are your facilities?”
Teri excused herself to give directions. She showed the dryad the line to the bathroom. An ogre lumbered up to Teri. He spoke with a dry, cracked voice. “Are you Teri Robinson?”
She nodded.
“There’s a fury looking for you.” The swung his arm toward the front door. “And she looks pissed.”
The fury invoked by the homeowners association was a cruel, pale woman in a crimson pantsuit. She’d been called down to enforce the code, and she did so with all the dedication with which her other sisters might chase down murderers and tax evaders. She could detect the smallest violation ranging from improper lawn ornamentation, loose shingles, and bird-houses with an improper motif. Teri considered passing her off to Phil, but he was still in the middle of his tournament and having a good time. So she decided to handle it.
The fury glared with deep red eyes. “Mrs. Robinson, you are aware you are in violation of several important regulations.”
“Can I offer you a beer?” asked Teri.
“No.” The fury’s frown deepened. “Thank you, but I’m on duty.” She clicked a pen and began filling out a citation. “You are aware that all parties require two weeks’ notice?”
“It’s not really a party.”
“Any gathering that involves more than five cars or eight nonresident guests is defined as a party according to the code. You’d know that if you read the regulation book.”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to do that, but I’ve been really busy lately and-”
“Ignorance of the code is no excuse.” The black veins on the fury’s skull-like face throbbed. She ripped the citation from the pad and thrust it accusingly at Teri. “I’ve issued a warning this time, as per homeowners association guidelines.” The fury smiled, revealing sharp teeth perfect for ripping out the throats of murderers, traitors, and those damned souls who dared to stick plastic pink flamingoes on their lawn. “Don’t let it happen again.”
Lucky appeared beside Teri. He hopped up and intercepted the citation.
“Edna, is that you? You’re looking scarier than ever.”
“Lucky, you ol’ son of a bitch.”
“Hey now, what’s this?” He scanned the citation. “You’re not raining down wrath on my girl Teri here, are you?”
“Just doing my job,” said Edna, sounding a bit guilty. “She’s not one of yours, is she?”
“Yep. But more importantly, she’s a good kid.”
“Rules are rules.”
“We’re celebrating, and it got a little out of hand. My fault, not hers. Can’t we look the other way just this once?”
“Well…” The fury’s fury faded. The citation disappeared in a flash of white flame. “I could never say no to you, Lucky.”
“Come on in. Have a beer.”
“One can’t hurt, I suppose.” She pulled out the stiletto knives keeping her hair in a bun. The black curls cascaded down past her shoulders as she joined the party.
“Thanks,” said Teri.
“Don’t mention it, kid.” He winked. “All part of the service, right? Do yourself a favor, Teri. Relax a little. Have a good time. Mortal life is too short to be worried all the time.”
Janet showed up, handed Lucky a fresh beer. “Didn’t you promise to introduce me to that fox-eared demigoddess?”
He led her away.
Teri found Phil in the kitchen.
“So how did the tournament go?” she asked.
“You are now looking at Red Ronan, reigning Death Ninja 3 champion of Heaven and Earth.”
She put her arms around him and gave him a kiss. “I think we made the right decision.”
“Are you sure? No more doubts?”
She shrugged. “Maybe a little bit of doubt. But not very much.”
“All I can ask for at this stage, I suppose,” said Phil.
She kissed him again.
Charon poked his head into the kitchen. “Hades is burning for a rematch, Ronan. Dare you accept?”
“You’re on.”
9
Bonnie had horrible dreams. They weren’t like ordinary nightmares, neither vague nor surreal. More like an edited playback of her life, as if someone had shot a movie, cut out all the good parts, and left only a parade of tragic, painful, and humiliating moments. She awoke, feeling as if she hadn’t slept a wink.
Syph, head bowed, sat in the corner of the bedroom.
“Oh, Jupiter,” groaned Bonnie. “What are you doing?”
The goddess raised her head. Her hair fell across her face, but she gazed at Bonnie with one colorless eye.
Bonnie covered her head with the blanket. She turned over and tried to go back to sleep. But she could feel the goddess still looking at her. Bonnie just wanted to get some sleep, to find refuge in unconsciousness. But even asleep, there was no escape from Syph.
“I’m sorry,” said the goddess. “About the dreams. In time, you’ll get used to them.”
“That’s what you think,” mumbled Bonnie from under the blanket. She had no intention of getting used to any of this, and she wasn’t about to surrender to the goddess’s influence. She hadn’t asked to follow Syph, and there had to be a way of getting out from under her.
The alarm blared.
She didn’t want to get up. She just wanted to lie here and wither away. But that was the goddess, not her. Bonnie was a happy person. She tried to stay positive no matter what. It wasn’t always easy. Not after her mom died. Or when she broke her leg and lost her dance school scholarship. Or that time her dog was hit by a car. And there was that car accident when she thought she might’ve had whiplash. And that other time when-
Bonnie sat up and blocked the negative thoughts seeping into her mind.
“Sorry.” Syph stood. “Would you like some breakfast? I can go make some eggs, if you’d like.”
“That’d be nice,” replied Bonnie insincerely. She wasn’t hungry, but it’d get Syph out of her hair.
After the tattered goddess left the room, Bonnie felt a little better. She was able to drag herself out of bed and get dressed. She couldn’t make herself take a shower, but she did run a comb through her hair and find the energy to brush her teeth. It was important to keep going through the motions, despite the weight bearing down on her. Bonnie couldn’t give in to the hopelessness.
Syph had a plate of runny eggs, burned toast, and a bowl of cereal sitting on the table.
“Don’t eat the cereal,” she said. “The milk has soured.”
“I just bought that milk,” said Bonnie.
Syph shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Do me a favor, will you? If you’re not going to leave me alone could you at least stop all the apologizing?”
It might’ve been a trick of the light, but Bonnie thought Syph almost smiled.
“Your eggs are getting cold.”
Though the scent of cooking was still fresh in the air, the eggs were ice-cold. Bonnie could tell just by looking because ice was forming on the plate. She didn’t eat them, didn’t even touch them. Accepting a gift from a goddess of heartbreak would only compound her problems.
“Thanks,” said Bonnie, “but I’m running late. I’ll grab something on the way.”
“No, you’re not,” replied Syph, “but thank you for bothering to make an excuse.”