Janet, meanwhile, had found her keys, gotten into her car, and started it. She stuck her head out the window and asked Syph and Bonnie to step aside so she could be on her way.
Syph scowled. The engine died. Janet tried to start it again, but there was no response. Not so much as a sputter.
Janet got out and walked up to Syph. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“There is no escape from the righteous fury of divine…” Syph took another awkward pause.
“Furiousness,” suggested Bonnie.
“Oh, yes. That’s terrifically poetic,” replied Syph.
“I already told you. He’s all yours,” said Janet. “You two deserve each other.” She wiped a tear from her eye.
“Well, this is no good,” said Syph in a huff. “This is just no good at all.”
“Why not? You want him. Now you can have him.”
“You don’t understand. I’m here for revenge, the smiting and the terror and the righteous furiousness. Not this. This is just sad.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” said Janet.
“He dumped you then, I take it,” said Syph.
“No, I dumped him.”
“You dumped him?”
“Yes.”
“You.” Syph pointed very deliberately at Janet. “Dumped him.”
“Yes. Still hurts like hell though.”
“But why?” asked Syph. “You dumped him! You win!”
Janet and Bonnie cast curious looks at Syph.
“If he dumps you, then you lose,” explained Syph, “but if you dump him, then you win.”
Janet laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I win.”
“Clearly, if you dumped him then you must have been unhappy in the relationship, right?” asked Syph.
“Wrong. I was having a great time.”
“Oh.” Syph mulled this over. “I get it. You knew he was just about to dump you, and you beat him to the punch.”
Bonnie pulled Syph aside. “Didn’t you tell me you were the goddess of love at some point? Don’t you get it?”
Though Syph kept it to herself, she had to admit she didn’t.
Janet leaned against her car and held back tears. Not a great flood, but a few embarrassing drops. As goddess of heartbreak, Syph could sense Janet’s pain. It irked Syph to see the object of her vengeance like this. It was hard to enjoy revenge when Janet was down in the dumps. It was like kicking a puppy.
“Well, this just ruins my day,” said Syph as she strolled away. “I’ll be in the car.”
Bonnie stood there, uncertain of what to do. She didn’t know Janet. But Bonnie’s experiences with the goddess of heartbreak and tragedy, along with a few failed relationships along the way, had left an impression. She knew that there really wasn’t anything to say to make it better. But she also knew she had to try.
“Gods, huh? What a bunch of dumbasses.”
Janet half-smiled. She sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve. “Why do we bother?”
“Can’t live with ’em,” said Bonnie. “Can’t kill ’em.”
She leaned next to Janet.
“See, that was a joke. They’re immortal. You can’t kill them. Get it?”
“Yeah, it was funny.” Janet made a halfhearted attempt to laugh that just came out as a whimper. “This is so damn stupid. It’s not like we were going out a long time. Just a little over two weeks. And it’s not like it was serious. Just fun, y’know.”
“I know.”
“But you really want to know what pisses me off?” said Janet. “In a hundred years, he’ll be off gallivanting about, having a grand old time. Y’know that the best revenge is living well bullshit? He’ll be living well, all right. And I’ll be dead while he’s whooping it up with some bimbo who isn’t even born yet.”
“Look at it this way,” said Bonnie. “At least it’s over.”
Janet perked up. “Damn it. It’s not over. I’m mooning over some worthless god while Phil’s about to throw himself into the jaws of a dark god to protect his wife.” She jumped in the car. It still wouldn’t start.
“Something’s happened to Phil?” asked Bonnie.
“You know Phil?”
“I know him. What’s wrong with him? Is this about Gorgoz?”
“You know about Gorgoz?”
“I should. I was nearly sacrificed to him,” said Bonnie.
Janet twisted the car keys with the same result every time.
“Come on,” said Bonnie. “We can take my car.”
Five minutes later, as they drove down the freeway, Syph kept glaring at Janet in the backseat.
She leaned close to Bonnie and whispered, “Why are we giving her a ride again?”
“Because you wouldn’t start her car.”
“I’m not wasting my favor making her life easier,” said Syph with a snort.
“Then sit back and be quiet.”
“Careful. You overstep your bounds, High Priestess.”
“Guess that’s a chance I’ll have to take,” replied Bonnie. Syph folded her arms and sulked for the rest of the ride. Ice formed on the windows, but Bonnie steadfastly ignored it.
24
Worthington, drinking a glass of wine, sat by his swimming pool. He checked his watch.
His cell phone rang out with “Don’t Fear the Reaper.”
“Yes?”
Gorgoz’s voice asked, “Worthington? Is that you?”
“This is my phone, my dark lord.” Worthington struggled to suppress his annoyance. “You don’t need to ask that every time.”
Gorgoz had a bad habit of shouting into his phone. “When our guest arrives, see that he is brought to me immediately.”
Worthington moved his cell away from his ear. “As you wish, Master.”
The phone went silent for a moment.
“Wretched mortal,” grumbled Gorgoz. “One day, he will burn in eternal agony for his attitude.” An evil laugh rumbled from the speaker. “We’ll see how smug he is when his intestines are pulled out through his-”
Worthington cleared his throat. Loudly.
“Lord, you have to either close the phone or push the button to end the conversation.”
“Oh, bloody hell.” Several bangs and clunks echoed from the phone. “Thinks he’s so clever just because he can operate a fucking phone. I’m the damned lord of chaos. I’m sure that skill will be very helpful when he’s impaled-”
Worthington performed a stage cough.
“Son of a Babylonian whore,” hissed Gorgoz. “Which damn button is it?”
“The END button,” said Worthington. “To end the phone call.”
His phone beeped several times as Gorgoz stabbed at random buttons.
“Worthington?” he asked quietly. “Worthington, are you still there?”
Worthington snapped his phone shut. If previous experience was any guide, Gorgoz would eye his own phone for several minutes until he just ate it to solve the problem.
A shadowy creature swooped down from the sky. It dropped a screaming figure into the pool, then landed on the patio. The monster gnawed on something. Possibly the carcass of a small dog or a large cat. Worthington didn’t check.
Phil pulled himself out of the water. Worthington tossed him a towel.
“Take off your clothes. You’re not dripping on my carpets.”
Phil shivered in the cool night air, but he didn’t argue, much to Worthington’s pleasure. He led the naked convert through his house. They didn’t make it to the basement, though, because Gorgoz met them halfway.
Worthington didn’t like this turn. Gorgoz wasn’t supposed to leave the basement. Of course, he could, but it was a habit Worthington wanted to discourage. He preferred his god sitting on his divine ass, sucking up tribute and spitting out favor while watching television and drinking beer.
“Phil, you made it.” Gorgoz smiled with menace. “Welcome to the cult. I know you’ll love it. Isn’t that right, Worthington?”
Worthington would also have preferred it if Gorgoz had refrained from using his name. He forced a smile. “Yes, Lord.”
Gorgoz took Phil by the shoulders. “Presenting yourself naked, eh? That’s classic, real humility. You could learn a thing or two from this guy, Roger.”