“I have a job.”
“We’ll fly over for the afternoon. Be back by midnight. I promise.”
“I’ll pack my swimsuit.” She rubbed his ears and ran into the bedroom. “So what did you do?”
“What?”
“How did you solve the problem?” asked Janet.
“Does it matter?” He sniffed the flowers. “It’s solved.”
She stuck her head out of the bedroom.
“Well, if you have to know, I didn’t actually have to do anything. Good ol’ Phil took care of it, the romantic lug. Seemed he went and made a deal to get you and Teri out from under Gorgoz’s thumb. Very proactive. You know the old saying. He who helps himself… something like that.”
Janet walked over and put her hands on her hips. “What about Phil?”
“Oh, he’ll be fine. He’s a survivor, rolls with the punches, makes the best of it-”
“Lucky…”
“I didn’t stick around for the exact details. But I think you’re losing sight of the big picture. The problem is solved. Who cares who solved it?”
“I care. And I’m willing to bet Teri cares, too.”
“To make any deal with Gorgoz, Phil had to renounce me,” said Lucky. “That means his fate isn’t my problem.”
“You’re just going to abandon him?”
“I kind of have to.”
Janet cupped his head in her hands, leaned in, and kissed his forehead. She unclasped her necklace and put it on the coffee table, then headed toward the front door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I like you, Lucky. I like you a lot. You’re romantic and sweet and able to fly me to Tahiti at a moment’s notice. But if you can leave Phil to the mercy of some mad chaos god then you’re not the guy I hoped you were.”
“Babe, I want to help. I do.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Then help.”
“It’s against the rules.”
“Gorgoz doesn’t follow the rules. Screw the rules. If you’re interested in doing the right thing, you know where to find me.
“You don’t get this guy. He’s bad news. He’s dangerous. Just because I’m immortal that doesn’t mean he can’t do all sorts of nasty things to me.”
“That’s it then? It’s all about you?”
“You, too. If you go up against Gorgoz, an ugly death is the best you can hope for.”
“And you’ll let me go to that ugly death.”
“I am trying to stop you.”
She opened the door.
“Wait up.” Lucky hopped off the couch and fished around in his pockets. “You might want this. It could be important.”
He handed her the driver’s license. “Took it out of the collective unconscious. Might be worth something.”
“Thanks.”
She reached for the license, but he pulled it away.
“This is it then?” he asked. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“I don’t know.” She snatched the license away. “Am I?”
Lucky shrugged.
“Whatever, babe. You just blew a good thing. Have fun with the rest of your life. However brief it might be.”
He jumped back on the sofa and turned on the television.
“Mind if I just kick back here for a few hours? There’s a Gilligan’s Island marathon on. Hate to miss that.”
“Fine. Just remember to lock up when you leave.”
After the door closed, Lucky turned off the television. Janet might have had a nice rack and great ass. She might have been fun and cool and the kind of mortal a god didn’t run into every century. But she was just another mortal skirt. There were millions of them on this pitiful planet. It would be absurd to go up against Gorgoz for one insignificant woman.
Lucky wasn’t heartless. He felt bad about Phil. But that was the way it went in this world. Mortals came and went. Civilizations rose and fell. There was no point in getting attached to any of it. His relationship with Janet had been doomed from the start. Better to have it end now before it got any more serious.
Janet’s necklace stared at him from the coffee table. He made it disappear. Then made it reappear. Then made it disappear once again.
Grumbling, he made it appear again and stuck it in his shirt pocket. Then he turned on the television and tried, with only marginal success, to lose himself in the antics of zany castaways.
Bonnie and Syph sat in the car parked in Janet’s apartment complex.
“I still don’t see why I had to drive you here,” said Bonnie. “Couldn’t you just have teleported here or whatever the hell you gods do?”
“Because I’m conserving my energies,” said Syph. “I’ve gathered just enough tribute for what I need.”
Bonnie wasn’t in a great mood. While her life wasn’t in danger of being devoured by the goddess’s influence, she still had to deal with the comings and goings of Syph’s new influx of followers in and out of the apartment at all hours of the day. The long lines had died down, but it still wasn’t unusual to have five or six strangers in her apartment at any moment. They’d left a few standing outside her front door when they’d gone off on this errand.
Syph had been taking on as many clients as she could and throwing in a few stinking boils and withered genitals to keep the clientele coming back for more revenge. She’d been stockpiling tribute. Bonnie hadn’t asked why, but when she saw Janet come around a corner, she figured it out.
Syph jumped out of the car.
“Stay out of it,” Bonnie mumbled to herself.
The sky darkened overhead. The three fluffy white clouds contorted into twisted, agonized faces.
“Stay out of it.”
A cat in a tree let out a howl and fell off its perch. It was dead before it hit the ground.
“Oh, hell.”
She exited the vehicle and caught up with Syph.
“You should stay in the car.” The goddess never took her eyes off Janet. “This won’t take a minute.”
Cracks formed in the pavement with Syph’s every step.
Janet, oblivious to the approaching wrath, fumbled with her car keys. Bonnie didn’t have to do much detective work to figure that Janet was having a bad day and that it was probably about to get worse.
Syph bellowed, shaking the earth. “Mortal, prepare yourself to face the vengeance of a goddess spurned!”
Bonnie was nearly knocked off her feet, and Janet jumped, dropping her keys.
“For your arrogance, I shall see you thrown into the depths of agony and despair, the endless pits of suffering, the realm of waking nightmares and dreams of pain where only the most presumptuous of mortal transgressors shall shriek and thrash for eternity! There you shall suffer until the end of time, until only the sanctuary of madness shall-”
Janet held up her hands.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but is this about Lucky? Because if you want him, you can have him.”
Syph hesitated. She’d rehearsed the speech and hadn’t planned on any interruptions beyond some incidental begging and pleading. Janet was crying. Just a little. But it wasn’t motivated by terror.
Syph kept on.
“It’s too late for repentance, mortal! You have earned the ire of the heavens! The only mercy you shall be given is the sanctuary of madness-”
“You already said that,” said Bonnie.
Syph glared. “You can wait in the car. I don’t mind.”
Bonnie said, “Sorry. Go right ahead.”
Syph cleared her throat and threw her hands in the air. A gale-force wind whipped across the lot as she roared, “The ire of the heavens shall rain upon you until the end of time! Your suffering shall be legendary! Your agony, a cautionary tale told to children who dare trifle in godly affairs!”
She paused. She’d had it all worked out, but now it was all jumbled. She knew she should’ve written notes.
“Madness shall be your… uhm… your… oh, damn.” She lowered her arms and the winds died down. “See what you made me do? You’ve completely thrown off my timing.”
“Sorry,” said Bonnie. “But I think sanctuary was the word you were looking for.”