“Oh, shit. You shot me!” It was a needless observation. The kind only made by someone who had never been shot before, who expected to just keel over in agony when struck by a bullet, when it rarely worked that way. “You asshole, you shot me!”
“It was an accident!” shouted Eugene. “I told you we should’ve bought revolvers. And taken that course on gun safety.”
Rick leaned against the wall. “What kind of idiot points his gun at the one person in the room he doesn’t want to shoot? You shouldn’t need a class for that.” He gingerly pinched the wound. “Gods, I’m going to bleed to death now.”
“It doesn’t look so bad. Did the bullet hit the bone?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“Did it feel like it hit the bone?”
“You want to know how it feels? It feels like some idiot shot me in the leg. That’s how it feels!” Rick started to slide down the wall.
Eugene moved to brace his partner. Without thinking, he jammed his pistol down the front of his pants. There was another pop of gunfire.
“Oh gods, oh gods!” He fell to his knees. The bullet had missed his groin by less than an inch. It had drilled a bloody trench in his leg and the flash had burned some highly sensitive areas.
“You gods-damned moron!” shouted Rick, too obsessed with his own wound to notice the hostages sneaking out of the dining room.
Quick lay across the sofa. “Hi, gang. Just in time for Family Feud.”
“You knew that would happen,” said Phil.
“This is the current residence of a god of good fortune and prosperity. Anyone who really understood the rules would know that trying to kill two of Lucky’s followers in the house where he hangs his hat would be a bad idea.”
Another gunshot echoed from the dining room, followed by more swearing.
“Sometimes initiative is a bad idea,” said Quick with a smile.
16
Gods were lazy. It was their nature, the design of divine metaphysics. The most successful and influential of gods weren’t the ones who had the most followers. They were the gods who did the least for the most and convinced everyone to overlook it. Zeus and Svarogich, the biggest divinities in North America, were also the two biggest clients of every reputable PR agency on the continent. It was no coincidence.
Janet knew all this. So she also knew that it was a pretty big deal when Lucky brought her breakfast in bed. It didn’t require any divine power to pour milk over Cheerios (and they were her Cheerios and milk), but the mere act of offering a mortal anything without asking for something in return wasn’t a casual act among gods.
“You’re out of orange juice,” said Lucky.
“Funny,” she replied. “I was sure I had enough for one more glass.”
“Nope. I checked.”
He sat on the bed.
“So things are going pretty good between us, aren’t they?” he said.
“Pretty good,” she agreed.
“It’s been a long time since I knew anyone I could just hang out with.”
“What about you and Quick?”
“He’s cool,” said Lucky, “but it’s different among mortals. Just more interesting.”
“So that’s what I have going for me? I’m mortal? Just a little slumming.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
She rubbed his ear. “I know, baby.”
He smiled. “I’m just saying that so far these last two weeks have been the highlight of this century.”
“Mine, too,” she said. “So far,” she added with a grin.
He put his hands together and opened them, revealing a golden necklace with a silhouette of a raccoon head.
“Nice,” she said.
“I want you to wear it.”
“I don’t know, Lucky. I’m not into jewelry. I know I’m a woman and I’m supposed to be, but I have enough trouble keeping track of earrings. And isn’t this dangerously close to a talisman of fealty? Are you trying to make me into one of your followers?”
“Fine. Forget it.” He tossed it away with an exaggerated motion, and the necklace disappeared. “No big deal.”
Janet had been on the mortal end of more than one immortal fling. They were fun, casual, a chance to hobnob with immortals, have a few laughs, without any risk of getting serious. She liked it that way.
It didn’t feel the same this time. She hadn’t expected his reaction. He tried to pass it off, to hide it behind a devil-may-care smile. But she could tell by the way his whiskers drooped that he was disappointed. She wasn’t sure how she felt about any of this herself. But she did want the necklace. Not because it was pretty. It wasn’t. Or because it came from a god.
It was because it came from him.
“I was just kidding around,” she said. “I’d love to wear it.”
Lucky reproduced the necklace and put it on her.
“Are we going steady now?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Are we?”
They shared an awkward smile. She playfully tweaked his ear.
Lucky glanced at his wrist, though he didn’t have a watch. “I really should get out of here. Check on Phil and Teri.”
“Sure.”
“Uh, so I had a great time.”
“Me, too.”
She took a spoonful of cereal, chewing very slowly to force Lucky to carry the conversation. She wasn’t sure what to say herself, and he was so cute when he stammered.
“Yeah. Okay.” He hesitated, searching for the right words to end the conversation. “You did have one last glass of juice. I, uh, drank it.”
“Oh, I know.” She winked and imitated his trademark finger snap/gun point.
Lucky laughed.
He left. As soon as she heard the front door close, Janet released a long sigh. This was getting complicated. She ran her fingers along the cool necklace.
“Damn.”
Someone knocked on her front door. She jumped up, hoping it was Lucky but grabbing a robe just in case. Cinching up the robe, she answered the knock. Syph fixed Janet with a cold stare. The leaves of a nearby tree wilted and yellowed.
“Hey, you’re that goddess,” said Janet. “That one Lucky was talking to at the restaurant the other day.”
“Yes, Luka and I are old friends,” said Syph, “and we need to talk.”
“You just missed him.”
“No, I don’t need to talk to him. I need to talk to you.”
Janet leaned against the doorjamb. She appraised the goddess neutrally before grinning slightly.
“Sure. Come in. Want something to drink?” asked Janet. “I’m all out of juice, but I can make some coffee.”
“Thank you. That would be lovely. That’s a charming necklace, by the way.”
“What? This old thing?” Janet chuckled. “I think it’s a bit tacky, but it was a gift, so I wear it.”
She puttered around the kitchen, rinsing out the coffeepot and starting the machine. It took a few minutes, and Syph said nothing. Janet almost thought the goddess had left. She didn’t care enough to check until the coffeemaker beeped. She briefly debated pouring only one cup, but she took the chance. Syph sat on her couch.
“Want some milk?” asked Janet.
“I prefer it black,” replied Syph. “I have a feeling your milk has gone sour anyway.”
Janet sniffed the carton. “No, it’s good.”
She poured some into her coffee while Syph glared.
“So a little talk, huh? Just between us girls?” Janet sipped her steaming cup of coffee.
Syph frowned at her own cup. The liquid had frozen into a single block of brown ice. Janet didn’t comment but couldn’t resist stretching out her contented sigh a bit. She pushed forth her brightest smile, knowing it would irritate the hell out of Syph.
“What’s up?” Janet added an extraneous lilt to the question.
“Enjoying your little tryst with a god, are you?”
“Sure. Lucky’s cool.”
Syph suppressed her snarl with only mild success.
“I’m glad you’re having fun. It’s nice for mortals to find some joy, considering how miserably short and meaningless your lives are. No offense.”