“I don’t kill people.”

Phil sucked in a long breath.

“You can tell me the truth.”

Lucky tossed out a chuckle, but when Phil didn’t join in, the god frowned.

“I’m only going to say this once more, buddy.” Lucky removed his sunglasses and looked Phil in the eye. “I. Don’t. Kill. People.” He reached for the remote. “It’s not my thing.”

He turned on the television. Phil rose and pushed the OFF button on the set.

“I’m not saying you killed him intentionally. But maybe you got him by accident.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Been a long time since I killed anybody by accident.” He laughed as if telling a joke, but Phil couldn’t tell.

“All right, all right. Something obviously has you on edge, Phil. Sit and we’ll get this straightened out.”

Phil did most of the talking. He described the incident at the office in rapid detail, partly because he wanted to get this sorted before Teri walked through the door, partly because his mind was racing. He mentioned the spotted red animals that kept popping up. Not everywhere, all the time. Not always in obvious ways. But still there, still haunting him from the corner of his eye.

“Is that it?” asked Lucky in his usual offhand manner. This once, it came off as dismissive. “This is all perfectly normal, Phil. Happens all the time. It’s called central cog syndrome. You’re still adjusting to the benefits of divine favor. And right now, you’re starting to feel like the whole universe revolves around you.”

Phil didn’t like the sound of that, and it must have shown on his face.

“Don’t sweat it,” said Lucky. “Your ego isn’t getting out of control. You’re just trying to figure things out. Now, I might have no small influence on the way your life is going, but I’m not all-powerful. You and me, we’re just a couple of guys in the grand scheme of things. We don’t rule the universe. Things are going to happen. Good things and bad things that have absolutely nothing to do with either of us.”

Phil’s doubts softened.

“You’ve had people die in your life before I moved in, right?” asked Lucky.

Phil nodded.

“And you’ve had weird luck before, too, right?”

He nodded again.

“So there you have it.”

“But what about the animals?”

“That might have something to do with me.” Phil thought he noticed a guilty glint in Lucky’s eyes, but he couldn’t be sure as Lucky had put his sunglasses back on. “But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

Teri came through the door.

“Hi.” She gave him a hug and noticed his distant response. “Something wrong?”

“One of my bosses died.”

“Oh, that’s horrible.” She hugged him tighter. “Want to talk about it?”

His head resting on her shoulder, he studied Lucky, who was back to watching television. He didn’t think Lucky was telling him everything, but he didn’t want to press it. If Lucky was right, if this was all in Phil’s imagination, then sharing his concerns with Teri would just get her worked up again. She’d finally gotten comfortable with this arrangement.

Lucky had a point. It was absurd to believe that everything around him had something to do with a grand cosmic conspiracy. Had he really gone that far around the bend that the lives and deaths of others seemed only to be omens meant for his own interpretation?

Thinking about it made him feel a bit embarrassed.

Teri came as a much-needed distraction from his thoughts. “Are you sure everything is okay?” she asked.

“It’s fine. Just a weird day.” He forced a smile. “But I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Syph might have vanished, but her influence remained. Bonnie still had the unpleasant dreams and still felt as if she were walking around with an anvil strapped to her head, weighing her down, making her sluggish. The effects were diminished and her resistance to it was growing, but she still could sense the impending approach of crippling depression.

She took a shower. The hot water wasn’t working. She had some burned toast. She had to eat it dry because her butter had gone rancid. Then she drove to Lucky’s house and rang the doorbell.

Teri answered the door.

“Hi,” said Bonnie. “I’m sorry to bother you, but can I speak to Lucky?”

“I don’t think he came home last night, actually,” said Teri.

“Oh.”

Teri waited for Bonnie to say something else, but Bonnie had trouble slogging through her thoughts. She hadn’t developed a contingency plan. She hadn’t developed much of a plan at all.

“Can I help you with something?” asked Teri.

“I’m Bonnie. Bonnie Weinstein. You don’t know me, but my goddess is stalking your god. And she’s ruining my life. And I just wanted to talk to him because… well, I don’t really have a clear reason for that. But I didn’t have any better ideas, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

Bonnie glanced over Teri’s shoulder and noticed Quetzal-coatl sitting on Teri’s sofa.

“How many gods do you have living here?”

“Just two,” said Teri.

“And they get along?” asked Bonnie.

“Maybe too well,” replied Teri. “Would you like to come in?”

Bonnie hesitated, studying the giant serpent in their living room. She leaned in and whispered, “He’s not going to eat me, is he?”

“Him? Oh, he’s harmless.”

Sensing Bonnie’s discomfort with the feathered serpent on the couch, Teri led Bonnie into the dining room. That plan failed, though, when Quick slithered in to join them.

“Let me grab my husband,” said Teri, leaving Bonnie alone with Quick.

“Hi, I’m Quick.”

He extended his wing, and she gingerly shook it.

“You don’t have to worry.” He offered a sharp-toothed grin. “I filled up on waffles at breakfast, so you’re perfectly safe.”

Both were quiet until Teri returned with Phil.

“Bonnie is having some goddess problems that she says have something to do with Lucky.”

Quick’s colorful plumage fell flat. “Not Syph again.”

“You know about this?” asked Phil.

“Oh, sure. It’s been a thing she’s had going for quite a while now. He was hoping she’d moved on this time.”

Bonnie filled Teri and Phil in on the dangers of being an unwilling follower of a heartbreak goddess. Quick offered his own insight.

“It’s something of an anomaly,” he explained. “We gods don’t fixate romantically. Not usually. It’s just not in our nature to have long-term relationships. It’s why we used to obsess over mortal lovers. Even if it’s a lifelong commitment, it’s only a mortal life. Over before you can get bored with it. Then again, most of us get bored long before that. But Syph is different. She just can’t let it go.

“It’s become her nature now. She can’t help it. Every time Lucky starts dating, Syph just shows up. I don’t think she even plans it. It just happens.”

“Can’t you stop her?” asked Bonnie. “Don’t you gods have rules you have to follow? Isn’t there some sort of peer pressure you can throw at her? Maybe an intervention?”

“I guess it’s possible. But she’s not doing anything serious. She’s just killing a few mortals. Nobody is going to notice.”

“I noticed,” said Bonnie.

“You’re right. It’s important. I wasn’t implying that you aren’t a victim in all this, and that nobody should care. But the gods, most of them anyway, are far too irresponsible to get involved.”

“What about you?” said Phil. “Can’t you do something?”

“I wish I could. But I’m not Bonnie’s god. There are rules in place to keep divine infighting to a minimum. And the most important is that a god will not directly intervene in the lives of another god’s followers. Or even in the lives of those who have chosen to remain unaffiliated. Hands off. It’s damage control. Too much bad press in the old days came from just doing whatever we wanted. So now we wait to be invited before we do anything. Most of us, anyway.”