“But I didn’t invite Syph,” said Bonnie. “She chose me.”

“That’s kind of a gray area,” admitted Quick, “but any sensible god will probably err on the side of caution. Better to let a few unfortunate mortals perish than get our hands dirty.”

“That’s terrific.”

“There has to be something we can do,” said Teri.

Quick smiled.

Bonnie scowled, thinking the god was getting off on her predicament. “What’s so damned amusing?”

Quick said, “It’s amazing. It really is. You mortals live such inconsequential lives, confined in tiny bodies, bound in tiny universes. Your time is so brief, and who could blame you if you decided to indulge your flicker of existence on every hedonistic impulse that entered your minds? But you still find time to care about each other, even strangers. It’s inspiring.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me?” asked Bonnie.

He hesitated.

“You just said that gods live without consequences.”

He flapped his wings in a shrug. “I’m just a minor deity at best. If I overstep my bounds, they’d probably make an example of me. I feel bad for you, Bonnie. But-”

“Just not enough to stick your neck out,” said Bonnie.

He folded his wings and studied them rather than look at her. “Prometheus threw you a little fire and look what happened to him.”

“I get it. Just another mortal screwed by the system. Why should you care?”

He mumbled an apology. The mortals stared across the table at each other for a few moments.

“That’s it then. There’s nothing we can do. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” Bonnie stood. “I’ll let myself out.”

“Wait.” Teri said, “We can at least talk to Lucky about this. He may not be your god, but he’s mine, and this does involve him. And he’s dating a friend of mine, too, so-” She turned to Quick. “You said this happens every time Lucky starts dating someone?”

“That’s right.”

“What happens to the mortal he’s dating when this goddess enters the picture?”

Quick didn’t answer.

“What happens?”

“What you think happens.”

“You knew about this?”

He nodded.

“And you didn’t warn us?”

“You’re not my followers,” he said.

“That’s pretty low, Quick. I expected more from you.”

The serpent god laid his head on the table and covered his eyes with his wings. “I wanted to tell you, but Lucky’s my friend. I didn’t think it was my place. I talked to him about it, and I’m pretty sure he was going to let you know.”

“When? After my friend was blasted by a bolt of lightning?”

“Lightning isn’t usually Syph’s style,” he replied.

She glared. The glitter went out of his scales and his rainbow feathers paled.

“I told you this god thing was a bad idea,” said Teri.

That was only half-true. While Phil had been the one to come up with the idea, she’d been the one to convince him to go through with it. She stormed away before he could say anything, though that was just as well as this would probably be a bad time to remind her.

“I’m sorry, Phil,” said Quick. “I thought about telling you, but it’s complicated. There’s a code of ethics.”

“It’s fine,” replied Phil. “I get it. Lucky’s your friend.”

He deliberately avoided sounding judgmental. He couldn’t blame Teri for being upset, but he couldn’t help seeing it from Quick’s perspective. Phil knew secrets about his friends and coworkers that he kept in confidence. And they knew things about him. There were secrets he even kept from Teri. Embarrassing bits from his past that he didn’t deliberately hide but never mentioned. None of those bits were earth-shattering, but it was all a matter of scale.

“You’re a good guy, Quick. Teri’s just upset now. She’ll get over it.”

Quick smiled. “Do you really think so?”

“Sure.”

Phil didn’t qualify his statement by adding that he wasn’t quite so positive that would be true if anything happened to Janet. He didn’t see the point in saying it. It was just another thing left unsaid to make someone feel better. The irony didn’t escape him.

Teri tried Janet’s cell number. There was no answer. She tried Janet’s home number next. Still no answer. She left messages, not saying too much, fearing Lucky might listen in on them.

She tried not to think the worst, but she couldn’t stop thinking of Janet lying smote somewhere. And Lucky, that inconsiderate bastard, running off to Valhalla to pick up chicks without giving her a second thought.

Teri dialed again.

The doorbell rang. She thought of Lucky, coming home from an all-night bender after casually discarding another mortal life for his own amusement. She’d let him know just what she thought of that. Screw the consequences of a rebuked divinity. She didn’t care. It was time to stop being pushed around by the whims of the gods. It was time for mortals to take a stand.

Her face twisted into a righteous scowl, she threw open the front door. Two men in dark blue suits greeted her. One of them was tall and balding with a pockmarked face, vaguely sinister. The other was unremarkable except for a pair of thick glasses.

“Hello, ma’am,” said the taller one in a slow, deep voice. “We have a special offer for you from the temple of the lord of sunken dreams.”

“No, thanks,” she said. “I gave at the office.”

She tried to close the door, but the tall one pushed it open. They shoved their way inside. The eyeglasses man pulled a pistol. He didn’t point it at her, but its mere presence was enough to make her raise her hands.

“Are you alone?” he asked.

The taller one said, “Why are you asking her that, Eugene? We know she’s not alone. We’ve been watching the place.”

“I was testing her honesty, idiot. And you aren’t supposed to use my name, Rick.” He waved his weapon at Teri. “Okay, miss. Where is everyone else?”

Teri didn’t answer.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” said Rick. “We should’ve waited.”

The gunmen tried to hide their squabbling by whispering. They still didn’t point their weapons directly at her. She could’ve possibly jumped the smaller one and taken away his gun. It might not have been that hard. But his partner wasn’t likely to just stand aside and watch.

The men ordered Teri into the dining room. The serpent god sitting at the table didn’t surprise them, but Eugene waved his gun at Bonnie.

“Who’s this? Who the hell is this, Rick?”

“I dunno. Some lady?”

“You didn’t mention her.”

“So?”

“So you were supposed to be watching.”

“She must’ve gone in when I wasn’t looking.”

“You were on lookout. Do you know what lookout means?”

“She’s just one lady. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“She’s an unknown quantity.” Eugene pointed. “We have the two followers and the serpent god. And that was supposed to be it.”

“Excuse me.” Quetzalcoatl raised a wing. “I hate to interrupt, but you do know who lives here, right?”

“You’re not allowed to interfere,” said Rick. “That’s against the rules. Tell him, Eugene.”

Quick said, “I know the rules. They aren’t my followers. Not my problem.”

“That’s right.” Eugene smirked. “So shut up. This doesn’t concern you.”

Quick shot across the dining room. He doubled in size, rearing up before the gunmen. His gold and silver scales sparkled, his plumage spread out like a rainbow-colored cobra’s hood, and he opened his jaws wide enough to swallow a human whole. They fell to their knees, cowering before the terrifying deity.

His voice grew rough and rumbling. “You really have thought of everything, haven’t you? I bet you even know that Lucky didn’t come home last night.”

They nodded.

“I can see you’re a couple of sharp guys,” said Quick. “You’d have to be sharp to try something like this. Or stupid. Sharp is keeping a watch on the house before making your move and knowing the rules. But stupid is taunting a god with your over-confidence. Stupid is not understanding that if you smirk at a god who doesn’t have much to lose, he could easily forget the rules and devour two arrogant mortals who are threatening a group of people that he has grown fond of.