He paused to catch his breath.

“You didn’t know about any of that, did you?” he said.

“How long did you date this guy?” asked Syph.

“Three months,” replied Christine. “The sex was really good.”

Scott couldn’t suppress his satisfied grin.

“Toss him,” said Christine.

Syph threw Scott into the swirling vortex. It sealed shut with a satisfied shriek.

“Vengeance is served,” said Syph.

“Wait.” Christine went to the kitchen and grabbed something to drink. “I can’t do that. I can’t send him to Hell just because he was a bad boyfriend.”

“But what about all his sins? Don’t you deserve vengeance?”

Christine shrugged. “I kind of knew he was a loser before we even started dating.”

“But you offered him love, the greatest gift in all of Heaven and Earth-”

“Actually, I never loved him. I’m not sure I even liked him.”

“But you could have,” said Syph. “You could have loved him if he had given you a chance.”

“Not really. I was just looking for a fling when we started dating. Kind of why I asked him out in the first place.”

Syph stammered.

“That DVD player is a piece of crap,” added Christine. “He can keep it.”

Syph snapped her fingers. The portal opened and spat Scott back into the apartment. He was battered, bruised, and scratched, and his clothing was torn, but no serious injuries had taken place.

“You can destroy the TV,” said Christine to the disappointed goddess.

The television fell into the shrieking portal. The unknowable horrors were audibly disappointed not to have a soul to rend, but they satisfied themselves by switching on a baseball game before the portal closed.

“Justice is served.” Syph leveled an accusing finger at Scott, who was too dazed to pay much attention. “May you learn the errors of your ways, heartless mortal. Love is a blessing from above and any fool who spurns it shall face the wrath of the heavens themselves.”

She filled the apartment with absolute silence as she stared deep into his eyes.

“Pray we do not meet again.”

Syph and Christine left the apartment.

“Thanks,” said Christine. “What do I owe you?”

“Oh, it was no problem. I couldn’t take anything.”

“I’ve never actually done this before. Is tipping allowed? Or is that frowned upon?”

“It’s not necessary.”

“I insist. Is five dollars okay?”

Christine handed Syph some cash. The second Syph touched the money, she sensed a surge in the cosmic balance. It wasn’t the money itself, but the act of offering tribute. It had been centuries since Syph had been offered a willing tribute, ages since she’d met a mortal who wasn’t unhappy to know her. She’d forgotten what it felt like.

That was the secret to a god’s power and why she was unable to harm Janet. Lucky was a minor god, but he did have his followers. More than Syph had. It was all about tribute, and she couldn’t match his because she’d spent the past thousand years moping, neglecting her followers.

No wonder Lucky didn’t respect her. She wasn’t much of a goddess at all anymore. Any god in the universe could thwart her power.

“Oh,” Syph said to the departing Christine, “if later tonight you feel like pouring a bottle of wine down the sink in my name, I wouldn’t complain.”

“Sure.”

“The good stuff,” added Syph. “Preferably something that doesn’t come in a box.”

“Okay.” Christine skipped away quickly.

Syph was in mid-transformation when Scott poked his head out of his apartment.

“Uh, excuse me.”

“Yes,” she replied coldly.

“You’re a goddess of scorned lovers?”

“More or less.”

He approached tentatively. “Do you help guys, too? Or do you strictly work for chicks?”

Syph pondered the question. She hadn’t thought about it.

“See, there was this chick named Stella,” he continued, “and she totally screwed me over. She keyed my car. And she faked a pregnancy to get some extra bucks out of me. And she took my dog.”

“Your dog?” repeated Syph thoughtfully. “In all of Heaven and Earth, there is nothing so embodied of unconditional love as that of our loyal canine companions.”

Scott perked up. “So you’ll do it? You’ll help me out?”

“I might.” Syph examined the crisp five-dollar bill in her hand. “It all depends on what you are willing to do for me.”

Teri and Phil weren’t happy to discover they were in the middle of an illegal holy war. They were even more upset to be informed of this by a pair of Divine Affairs agents on their front lawn.

A gray sedan, an ambulance, and a police cruiser were parked outside their house. Curious neighbors gawked from their own front porches or peeked out their windows. Neither Phil nor Teri was the kind to be overly concerned about their neighbors, but it was a hell of a commotion. Especially the sedan and the two Divine Affairs agents who came with it. Divine Affairs made people nervous, and rightfully so. Most gods played by the rules. But not every god. And the rogue gods were just as dangerous as in the history books. Even a little bit more so since the hubris of mortals only made these untamed gods more wrathful.

The agents operated in pairs, one mortal and one immortal. Agent Watson, the mortal, was a lanky man in standard Divine Affairs gray. The immortal agent was a muse named Agent Melody. Her suit was bright purple and her every gesture seemed as if it should have been set to music. Wagner would’ve been inspired to write a four-second symphony just by watching her remove a pen and paper from her coat pocket.

Phil was slightly more artistic than his wife. Just enough that being near Agent Melody, he found himself distracted, composing haikus in his head and having difficulty concentrating.

The ambulance sirens blared as it pulled away from the curb, taking the two failed assassins with it.

“How are they?” asked Teri.

Watson replied, “They seem to have suffered a total of five self-inflicted gunshot wounds. Also, one of them somehow managed to burn himself on your stove and got a corkscrew stuck up his nose.”

Neither Teri nor Phil could remember ever even buying a corkscrew.

“According to the paramedics,” said Melody, “none of the injuries should be fatal.”

“That’s good,” said Teri automatically, though she didn’t know why she cared about the health of two people who had tried to kill her. Even if they had failed miserably, they were still assassins.

“They mentioned something about Gorgax,” said Phil.

“Gorgoz,” corrected Watson. “According to our records this Gorgoz is a deity engaged in a holy war with your own registered god.”

“But that’s illegal,” said Teri.

“Yes, miss. Rest assured that we take these violations of Divine Treaty very seriously.”

“Are you currently engaged in polytheistic worship?” asked Watson.

“No,” said Phil. “We just have the one.”

“You do realize that it is deemed unlawful to follow a god without registering?”

Phil and Teri nodded.

“Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider your previous statement?” asked Melody.

“We only have one god,” said Phil.

“Can you explain the presence of an unregistered deity in your home then?”

They followed the agents’ gaze to Quick, who was talking to another pair of agents.

“Oh, that’s just Quick,” said Teri. “He’s not our god. He just sleeps on our couch.”

“He’s a friend of Lucky’s,” added Phil.

The agents exchanged an unreadable glance.

“It’s not a crime to let a god crash at our place,” said Teri, perhaps a bit too defensively. “We don’t follow him. We don’t offer him tribute.”

“According to Article Seventy-one of the Divine Affairs Treaty, offers of lodging qualify as tribute.”

“We didn’t offer it,” said Teri. “He just started doing it.”

“I see,” said Melody. “Would you like to file an official complaint then?”