Divine Misfortune (2010) (17 page)

“I guess. She is a witness, after all. We’ll offer her up as a sacrifice to Gorgoz.”

“Who gets to do it?” asked Rick.

“You do, okay? Happy?”

Rick smiled. “Yes.”

Eugene rolled his eyes, raised his pistol, and cocked the hammer.

Phil stood and stepped between Eugene and his wife. “Kill me. But don’t shoot the women.”

“That’s some misogynistic bullshit.” Teri pushed him aside. “Kill me but let them go.”

“This isn’t a good time for feminism,” he replied.

“Says you.” She turned her eyes away from the guns trained on them. “You know how I feel about women and children first. It
puts women in the same category as children. And I am not a child.”

“I wasn’t saying that. I was just trying to be noble.”

“Because it’s the man’s job to be noble,” she said, “and the woman’s job to—”

“Dammit, this is not the time to be having this discussion!”

Bonnie stood. “Shoot me. I’m the one who is going to die anyway. Might as well get it out of the way.”

“Excuse me,” said Eugene. “But this is an assassination, not a negotiation. You’re all going to get shot. There’s no way around
that.”

“Although, for the record, miss,” said Rick, “I agree with you that it’s chauvinistic nonsense.”

Teri slapped Phil on the shoulder. “See?”

Rick’s cell rang, and he answered it. “Uh-huh. No, we haven’t done it yet. No. Okay, okay. You’re right. No, I haven’t forgotten
about the mortgage. Yes, I take this seriously.”

Eugene cleared his throat loudly.

“Honey, I have to go.” Rick hung up. “She said the raccoon god just left that woman’s apartment. We better do this fast.”

Eugene pointed his gun again. Things were complicated by the three hostages each jostling to be in front of the bullet. He
decided to just pull the trigger and let destiny pick the first victim.

His gun didn’t fire.

“What’s wrong?” asked Rick.

“It’s not working.”

“Is it jammed?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never used one of these before.”

“Try the slidey part on top. Isn’t that what they usually do in the movies?”

Eugene fiddled with his weapon. It made a loud clack, and he yelped as it pinched the flesh of his palm.

“Is the safety on?” asked Rick.

“No, the safety isn’t—”

The dining room echoed with the pop of a gunshot. Phil, Bonnie, and Teri checked themselves for holes. After a few seconds,
everyone noticed a new hole in Rick’s thigh and a red stain spreading across his slacks. He, oddly, was the last to notice.

“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.

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.”

Janet didn’t drop her smile. “None taken.”

Syph’s displeasure manifested in a scowl. That was it. Nothing else changed. There was no drop in temperature, no broken glass,
no cracks in the plaster or exploding lightbulbs. Aside from her own frozen coffee, the goddess had no effect, conscious or
unconscious, on the environment.

“Lovely place you have here,” said Syph. “Very… lived in.”

“It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“Luka was always enamored of the common mortal. Do you know, I don’t think he ever abducted a nymph in his life. Even when
it was all the rage. No, for Luka it was always about the peasants, the milkmaids, the mud-covered maidens toiling in the
fields. Hardy stock with sturdy limbs and firm hips, but rarely the waifish type.”

Syph made a show of appraising Janet. The goddess smiled wryly.

“I beg your pardon. I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

“Are you kidding?” said Janet. “I work very hard on these thick limbs. Do you know how many curls it takes to get this toned?”

Syph’s face went blank.

“My, aren’t you the pleasant little mortal?” she said with an icy tone.

“I try. I figure if I’m going to live a miserably short and meaningless life, I might as well make the most of it.”

“An excellent philosophy,” agreed Syph. She walked around the room, pretending to look around, but inwardly fuming. “But I
do sometimes marvel that since your lives are already all too brief you don’t take more care with them. So many foolish decisions
to be made, and you always seem determined to make as many as you can.”

“Eh, when you’re mortal you know you’re going to die,” said Janet. “Most of us don’t try to overthink it. I wouldn’t expect
you to understand, of course. You get to live forever and ever and ever.”

Somehow, she made it sound like an insult.

“Long after you are moldering in the dirt and your bones have withered to powder, Lucky and I will still be walking this earth,”
said Syph. “Providing you mortals haven’t blown it up by then.”

“Or you gods haven’t smote it to dust ahead of us,” said Janet.

Syph and Janet dropped their polite smiles and locked stares.

“Very well,” said the goddess. “Let’s be direct, shall we?”

“Oh, let’s,” agreed Janet.

Syph said, “You’re a smart woman. You’ve read your history. You know how this works.”

“How does this work?” asked Janet with feigned wide-eyed curiosity.

A few red veins darkened the goddess’s flesh. Her left eye twitched, but she otherwise maintained her composure. Though when
she spoke there was an edge to her voice.

“You’re a trifle, a momentary indulgence. You can’t honestly believe he cares for you. You aren’t that naïve.”

“And how naïve am I?”

Syph set down her cup and walked to a wall. She pretended to adjust a hanging picture frame and caressed a fern. It didn’t
wither.

“Do you think you’re the first hapless mortal he’s seduced?”

Janet laughed. “Jeez, I hope not. Thoth knows he’s not my first god. Although I admit you’re my first jealous goddess.”

“Luka is mine. He will always be mine.”

“Okay. And what’s that got to do with me?”

Syph said, “I’m giving you an opportunity to walk away. Before I am forced to intervene.”

Janet laughed again.

“You find this amusing?”

“Sure. Why not? So you have a thing for Lucky. I get it. What I don’t get is why you should care if he sows some wild oats
along the way. Isn’t that how it’s usually done? I’m only mortal, right? You can have him back when he gets bored.”

“Presumptuous cow, you dare dictate terms to me?”

Syph’s skin paled, and her glowing red skeleton flashed. She pointed at Janet with a twisted finger and unleashed a mournful
howl. The goddess focused her displeasure on her romantic rival.