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“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 sca
“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
Bo
Syph, head bowed, sat in the corner of the bedroom.
“Oh, Jupiter,” groaned Bo
The goddess raised her head. Her hair fell across her face, but she gazed at Bo
Bo
“I’m sorry,” said the goddess. “About the dreams. In time, you’ll get used to them.”
“That’s what you think,” mumbled Bo
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. Bo
Bo
“Sorry.” Syph stood. “Would you like some breakfast? I can go make some eggs, if you’d like.”
“That’d be nice,” replied Bo
After the tattered goddess left the room, Bo
Syph had a plate of ru
“Don’t eat the cereal,” she said. “The milk has soured.”
“I just bought that milk,” said Bo
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 Bo
“Your eggs are getting cold.”
Though the scent of cooking was still fresh in the air, the eggs were ice-cold. Bo
“Thanks,” said Bo
“No, you’re not,” replied Syph, “but thank you for bothering to make an excuse.”
Bo
A burly man with a permanent scowl occupied the seat behind her. His radio blasted out hard-core speed metal, where the guitarist played so fast the notes bled together and the vocalist roared. Thirty seconds after she boarded the bus the radio started playing twangy country songs about broken hearts and shattered lovers. He fiddled with the knobs to try to tune in another station and even changed the CD with no effect. Eventually he gave up and turned it off.
Syph didn’t get off the bus with Bo