by Brey Willows
But now, standing in front of Dani, she knew that strategy wasn’t working this time. At other work scenes, she’d tried to get in and out before Dani or her Sundo got there so she wouldn’t have to have the conversation she was having now. She hated lying but couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.
“Maybe we could grab coffee later?” Dani looked at the bodies on the floor and pulled off her snazzy backpack.
“Maybe. I mean, I’m a little busy right now. Can I call you and let you know?” Meg walked backward down the drive, as desperate to get away as she was to ask Dani to spend time with her. Dani looked so downcast she nearly gave in.
“Sure. Yeah. Whenever.” Dani turned to her task.
Meg closed her eyes against the tears that were threatening. She knew she was doing the right thing. The weird feelings of jealousy and loneliness would pass as long as she didn’t give them room to grow. Being on her own for a while would be a good thing.
She repeated the phrase constantly as she flew back to Santa Monica. Before she got back to the office she saw the King’s Head pub and thought of Fin. Suddenly curious, she landed at the pub and went inside. Sure enough, Fin, a pre-fader Celtic god, sat in the back with a half-empty glass of Guinness and a book in front of him. She went to the bar and ordered him another, as well as a Sex on the Beach for herself. She took them to the table and said, “Any time for an old friend?”
Fin looked up and smiled. “Red wings! Slap my ass and call me sugar tits. It’s been ages. Sit, sit.” He gulped down the last of his beer and slid the other one forward. “I hadn’t seen Alec in a month of monkey’s arses, and now I get to see you too.” He flicked some foam from his beer at her cleavage. “You’re looking well, lass.”
She laughed and threw the paper umbrella from her drink at him. “You’re looking human.” She made a face at the book on the table. “Crossword puzzles? Really?”
He held his heart as though in pain. “Ay, you insult a man after buying him a drink. Just like the old days. I happen to like crosswords. And this one is put out by one of the Muses, you know. Look. Right out of the Afterlife press room.” He pushed it away and tapped his glass to hers. “Anyway, what brings you to my table?”
Meg sipped her drink and shrugged. “I have no idea. I was headed home and suddenly wanted to see you.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her for a moment. “These days, there’s little likelihood of coincidence, my love. Tell me what’s going on in your life.”
“You know me, Fin. Fucking and drinking and good food. That’s my story.” It sounded as hollow as it felt.
“Nah, love. That’s what you like people to think. And you’ve gotten so good at gettin’ them to think it, you’ve gone and believed it yourself.” He smiled at the waitress who set another two drinks in front of them. “But you’re more than that. Tell old Fin what’s the matter.”
Unexpectedly, Meg started to cry. “I don’t know. I like my life. I love my life. I mean, do you know what it’s like to have sex with a Viking goddess and a centaur at the same time?” He looked impressed, and she kept going. “Right? I mean, who gets to do that? I do. I do whatever I want outside of my job, whenever I want to do it, wherever it can be done.” She blew her nose on a cocktail napkin. “Why isn’t that enough anymore?”
Fin sat quietly for a few minutes. “You’ve got to do your own growing, no matter how tall your father was.”
Meg stared at him, baffled. “What? What the hell does that mean? I don’t have a father. I mean, not one I can go and chat with.”
“It’s a saying we have in Ireland. No matter what, you have to become your own person. Not your sisters, not your friends. Just you, and you have to do it on your own.”
“When did you start sounding like the Fates?” He winked at her and blushed, and Meg started to laugh. “You’re doing one of the Fates? I’m both intrigued and repulsed.”
“You sleep with man-horses. Don’t tell me you’re repulsed by old folks having sex.” He grinned. “And the older the fiddle, the sweeter the tune, Red.”
She’d think about that later. “I feel lost. And I don’t think there’s any reason to feel lost. And that’s stupid. I hate feeling stupid.” She sucked on a piece of pineapple and tried to quell the tears.
“Well, girlie, I can tell you this much. Dig deeper. If you’re determined to drown yourself, no sense in playing in shallow water. Be the person you think you are to the full extent of it. Then you’ll really know if that’s you, or if you’re playing at being you. Maybe you’ll figure out you’re someone else.”
Meg closed her eyes and puzzled over what he was saying. “Be me. Or not me.” She opened her eyes again and shook her head. “Thanks. Very helpful.”
He laughed. “It will be, if you give yourself time to think about it.”
She laughed with him, feeling a little better. “Okay, I’ll think about it later. For now, tell me which Fate you’re doing and what she’s like in bed.”
He started talking and Meg let herself be drawn into the conversation. The serious soul-searching would wait. Right now, sitting across from an old friend, she was where she needed to be.
* * *
Dani stood on Meg’s porch, debating the wisdom of knocking. Although she and Meg’s sisters had tried to reach her, she’d been refusing to talk to any of them. But that didn’t mean she’d been alone. They’d heard about the excessively wild sex and alcohol-fueled parties she’d been throwing almost constantly, though it seemed clear none of them were invited.
When it had been time to leave Selene’s place after the dinner party weeks ago, Dani had carried Meg out to her car. Meg had been weepy, talking incoherently about how her sisters had everything and she had nothing, and how they were teacher’s pets. Although they’d looked confused, her sisters hadn’t responded. Presumably, Meg got like this from time to time. When she’d gotten back to Meg’s place, she’d carried her inside and laid her in bed. When Meg had pulled her in for a kiss and locked her legs around Dani’s waist, it had taken all her willpower to gently disengage herself. As much as she wanted what Meg had offered, she didn’t want it when she was too drunk to even walk, let alone know who was in her bed. Meg had told her to leave and turned away, and Dani had let herself out, hoping everything would be fine in the morning.
But it hadn’t been. Instead, Meg seemed to have gone on a bender. Her parties had always been known for their decadence, but rumor was they’d taken on new levels of hedonistic pleasure. Dani didn’t want to think about the bed partners Meg probably had every night. Meg wasn’t ever going to be defined by who she slept with; for her, a body was a body, and they were all interesting in their own ways. Dani wasn’t bothered by that; people were people, and over the centuries, Dani had enjoyed plenty of variety herself. What Dani couldn’t stop thinking about, though, was the desperate feeling of longing filling Meg’s energy when she’d brought her home. She knew deep-seated emotions like that could turn destructive if not dealt with. And it certainly didn’t seem like Meg was dealing with them. But whenever they ended up at a work scene together, Meg did what she needed to do and left quickly. Not only was she avoiding Dani, but it was obvious she was avoiding her sisters too. At the mass shooting two days ago, Meg had arrived late and left as soon as they were finished. After she’d left, Tis had asked Dani if she knew what was going on, and the hurt in her eyes was unmistakable. Unfortunately, Dani didn’t have any answers either. She’d been spending a lot of time out on the water with Idona, and she knew Idona was tired of her hypothesizing about Meg’s state of mind. Yesterday, she’d threatened to knock Dani out with her own surfboard and drown her if she didn’t do something about it.
The problem was that Dani wasn’t sure how to approach it. She wasn’t Meg’s girlfriend. Plus, Meg had always been wild, and who was Dani to quell that? But after talking to her sisters, she knew this wasn’t “normal” Meg. This was something different, and Dani felt compelled to step in. She raised her hand
to knock, but before she could, she heard Meg’s voice from inside.
“If you make me get up to answer the door and you don’t have coffee in your hands, I’ll send my snakes to haunt your dreams every night.”
Dani’s tension eased a little. She let herself in and glanced around the house. Bottles, cans, and remnants of food littered the tables and floor. Meg lay facedown on the couch, one wing draped over the back and one trailing on the carpet. Dani couldn’t figure out what was off until Meg shifted slightly. Her hair. Instead of the beautiful thick mane that hung down her back, it was now a messy, tangled bob with blond streaks. She made her way around the mess on the floor to Meg’s side, where she wafted the cinnamon latte under her nose.
“Oh gods. Give me.” Meg slowly turned over and groaned. She held her head for a second before reaching blindly for the cup Dani pressed into her hand. She sipped, and Dani stayed quiet until she’d opened her eyes.
“Morning.”
“Is it?” Meg looked around her place and winced. “Yeah, that looks like morning.”
“Want some help cleaning up?”
Meg struggled into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? You don’t think I clean this up?” She sipped her latte and finally looked at Dani. “Thank you for this, by the way.”
“No problem.” Dani tried not to stare at Meg’s extremely apparent cleavage above the sheer top when she stood to stretch.
“I reek. I’m going to shower.”
Dani nodded, forcing that image from her mind. “Breakfast when you’re done? I’ve got something I’d like to talk to you about.”
Meg yawned. “Sure. Sounds good. If the cleaner comes, let him in, will you?” She went into the other room, already stripping off her clothes.
Dani sighed and tried to slow her racing pulse. Short hair or long, hungover or sober, Meg was still the most beautiful woman she’d ever known. She didn’t know what was driving Meg to extremes, but she hoped she had an idea that could help. Someone knocked, and Dani went to let the cleaner in.
He looked around the room and shook his head. “Good thing she pays me well.” He focused on Dani and stilled.
Dani nodded, unwilling to engage in conversation with someone who might pee themselves if she got too close. Instead, she left him to it and went into the kitchen, where she started piling bottles and cans on the counter, since she had nothing else to do.
Meg came out sooner than Dani expected, dressed but looking less energetic than usual. “You mentioned breakfast?”
Dani jiggled her car keys. “Have you been to Wild Thyme in Pasadena?”
“Not one I know. Let’s go.”
Meg waved to the cleaner and said thanks before they headed out to Dani’s car. He simply grunted in reply and mumbled something about life being too long for some people.
“I thought we’d take real streets today, if that’s okay? It’s a beautiful day.”
Meg nodded but didn’t say anything. She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun.
Dani respected her unvoiced request for quiet and headed down the 110 to Pasadena. When they pulled into the parking lot, she gently touched Meg’s leg to wake her. “Hey. We’re here.”
Meg looked around groggily and sniffed the air. “Yes!”
She jumped out of the car, and Dani followed her into the little breakfast café that really did smell amazing.
“Dani! It’s been ages! Come on in. Your favorite booth is free.” Carlos, the owner and a longtime acquaintance, ushered her in warmly.
“Thanks much, Carlos. This is my friend, Meg.”
His smile faltered slightly. “Megara Graves. It’s been a very long time indeed.” He brightened again. “I seem to remember you truly enjoy food. Let me get you some coffee.”
Meg looked up from where she was nearly drooling over the coffee cake on the counter. “Sorry, have we met?”
“A very long time ago, red one. Too long to revisit.” He motioned them toward the booth and disappeared into the back.
Dani and Meg headed to the booth and sat down. “I take it he’s one of ours?” Meg said, looking thoughtful.
“Pre-fader, kind of. Centeotl, the Aztec god of maize. Most of his people died off of disease brought by travelers, and the rest were decimated by war. Several of the Aztec war gods got out of control and refused to stop pushing against the other tribes. When humans didn’t kill each other off fast enough—”
“The primary god started killing off humans directly. It’ll be a wonder if he doesn’t poison my food.” Meg looked at the menu, but it was clear she wasn’t seeing it. “Maybe we should go.”
“What happened?” Dani asked softly. This wasn’t what she’d intended, but it could work to her advantage if she didn’t push too hard.
“The fury sisters killed a god.” Carlos put their coffee down on the table, and his smile was sad. “They were the most terrifying, magnificent women we’d ever seen. But by the time we saw them, it was too late. Tezcatlipoca had turned everything to darkness. Night was all we had, and war was everywhere. He began destroying the humans in our care, heedless of which side they were on. Essentially, he went mad.” He took a deep breath. “And so, Megara and her sisters stood before him, condemned him to death, and when the dust settled, he was gone.” He picked up their menus and put them in their hands. “This is far too heavy for breakfast conversation. Ancient history belongs where it dies.”
He walked away to help other customers, and Dani looked at Meg in awe. “You can kill gods?”
“We can, as a trio. Not any one of us individually. That’s why Tis was a good choice for the legal stuff. She’s fucking scary on her own, but when the three of us come at someone, they don’t have a chance.” Meg shrugged, looking sad. “We punish those who hurt others, and if the one doing the hurting on that kind of scale is a god, we have to step in. It’s one of the powers given to us as defenders of humans, but we’ve only had to use it once.”
“Good to know. I’ll make sure I don’t get on your bad side.” Dani smiled, hoping to break the tension, and when Meg smiled back, she moved on. “The banana pecan waffles are incredible. So are the biscuits and gravy.”
Carlos came back over, and Meg ordered both of Dani’s recommendations. Dani ordered her favorite, a spinach and cheese omelet.
Meg looked at Dani over her coffee cup. “You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about?”
Dani started to speak, but Meg interrupted her.
“Wait. If it’s to tell me off about anything, don’t.”
Dani held up her hands. “You just told me you can off a god. I’m not about to take you to task for anything, ever.”
Meg smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. “Okay. Go ahead.”
“Remember that day you helped Azrael figure out how to start rebranding? I’ve decided I want to do something similar, but I have no idea where to start.”
Meg looked surprised. “Why would you want to rebrand? You’re not a destination.”
“True. But what are any believers, in pretty much any religion, afraid of?” Dani pointed at herself.
“But fear of death is what makes human life meaningful, isn’t it?”
“But should it? Shouldn’t life be meaningful for what the humans bring to it, rather than for the fear of what comes after?” Dani didn’t fully understand her desire herself, but she knew it was important.
“Hmm. So, you think that by reducing the fear of death, people can focus on doing good for the sake of it, rather than because of their fear of death or the afterlife?”
Dani played with a napkin, trying to order her thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe? There has to be a way to reduce people’s fear of death.” She laughed softly. “You said I sounded like a travel ad once. Maybe that’s the route to take.”
Carlos came over and set numerous plates of hot food on the table. “Enjoy.”
Meg made appreciative noises over the food, and Dani knew better than to try t
o talk to her when she was engaged with eating. She tucked into her own food and remembered why she loved the place.
When half of Meg’s food was gone, she finally looked up. “I think you’ve got something there.”
Dani lifted her napkin to her face, embarrassed.
“No, silly. With the travel thing.” She chewed, looking thoughtful. “I mean, you’re kind of a…a limo service. For dead people. They die. You pick them up and take them somewhere else, where they’ll spend the next portion of whatever eternity they believe in.”
Dani laughed. “Right.”
“That in itself isn’t scary, but you get the blame for it. What they’re afraid of is what comes after you, right?”
“Not entirely. I think they’re also afraid of what they’re leaving behind. All the experiences they haven’t had, the people they love, the regrets. All that comes into play too.”
Meg finished off her biscuits and gravy and licked her fingers before returning to her waffle. “That makes sense. We have to think of a way to show them that what they’re leaving behind is…well, not your fault. It’s theirs. We have to get them to see you as an exciting travel guide rather than the final dissolution of lives. Easy.”
She laughed, and Dani watched with fascination as she licked maple syrup from her lips. What I wouldn’t give to be that syrup. “Do you think it’s possible?”
