自業自得
jigoujitoku
“Self-work, self-profit.”
~Japanese proverb
Horus
“What’s a good-looking god of a man like you doing at a place like this, sweetheart?” A woman who, honest to, well um, God, looks like she wants to eat me for breakfast, leans over the bar top, her breasts nearly kissing the small toothpicks by the olives while her hair dangles dangerously close to the beer tap.
A commotion sounds, and then she’s getting tapped on the shoulder by Satan, not really but a close second. “Bitch, he’s mine. Back off.”
It’s Alex.
Pretty sure the last thing she’s interested in is a washed-up god when a siren related to Ra is standing in front of her. His white and red hair is pulled back into a short ponytail, and strands of that same hair kiss his high cheekbones.
The man could seduce air.
“Oh, um…” She adjusts her tight red dress and self-consciously fluffs up her breasts, then leans against the counter again, almost drunkenly missing it three times before laughing like the inability to stand is hilarious. “You’re beautiful too.”
“I know.” Alex smiles. “But I’m taken by that big chunk of man over there you’ve been hitting on.”
“Alex…” I grind out his name as my teeth clench.
Alex winks at me. “Baby, it’s fine! We live in modern times, just embrace the fact that you like it when I—”
“Why are you here?” I interrupt.
The drunken lady starts swaying to the music. Alex sighs and points her toward the dance floor. “Go, go, go, go.”
She stumbles off and grabs onto a demon.
“That won’t end well.” I cringe as the soulless demon—one of the few beings without souls in the club—clutches onto her and starts whispering in her ear, his eyes burning red.
“Meh, he’ll just get drunk really fast, she’ll sober up, and we’ll make sure he doesn’t completely wreck her life.”
“We?” I repeat.
“Surprise!” Stephanie pops out of nowhere, dragging poor Cassius through the crowd. His jet-black hair hangs past his shoulders, and his blue eyes scan the room like he’s already planning on having to work tonight. The guy has no clue how to blend in. Then again, I’m not much better. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that says “bite me” with full vampire fangs on it, ripped jeans, and he looks seconds away from tearing a demon’s head from his body.
“Ethan got him that shirt for his birthday,” Alex says proudly. “I got him the really cool mermaid cuff on his right hand.”
“It’s pink.”
“Bastard pulled off the feather I glued to it.” Alex pouts.
I tilt my head toward him. “Why would you glue a feather to his bracelet?”
Alex smirks at me. “Because it tickles, and when something brings pleasure and mirth to one area, it makes you more susceptible to pleasure in other areas. Really, it was a birthday present for him and a present for Stephanie, if you get my meaning.”
“No,” I deadpanned, “I don’t.”
“Sex.” He throws up his hands. “The act of sex and sexual desire. If you’ve never used a feather, you’re missing out. Just the lightest of teasing touches and bam!”
I jump as he claps his hands aggressively in front of me. “How unfortunate for him that he removed it.”
“Between you and me, I think he removed it to use it on her—“
“What can I get you to drink?” I say quickly.
Frowning thoughtfully, Alex gives me a side-eyed stare. “You’re a god. You should be completely comfortable with the act of lovemaking.”
I sigh and look away. “Yeah, well, if you haven’t noticed, it’s been a while. Kind of stuck in a weird future time loop, so really, when you do the math…”
Alex’s eyes widen. “How are you alive? Are you okay? Because if you need something to take the edge off, I can seduce whoever you want to come over here and be of service to you.”
I shake my head slowly. “I’m good, but thanks for the offer.”
He spreads his arms wide. “The menu’s nice tonight.”
I think he means the women, but the last people I want to have, er, relations with are humans at this point.
Mainly because they seem too dumb and every time I get hit on, they think showing me tight clothes and skin means intelligence.
Nothing challenges me in this world.
Nothing.
How depressing.
“Drink?” I repeat.
“Peppermint schnapps.” Alex winks.
I make a face. “Gross.”
“Hope likes it,” he says before turning and facing his wife, who just walked in the bar. She takes one look at him and sprints into his arms, tackling him against the counter, her mouth fused with his.
They’re like that on a daily basis. I’ve never been so thankful to live outside of the immortal compound. Ethan’s mansion is huge, and typically if you’re on the Immortal Council, you stay there in case of emergencies or a lockdown, but the minute I noticed all the happy couples, I realized I would rather face my dad Osiris again than spend one more night hearing everyone having sex.
“Hope?” I hand Alex his drink. “The usual?”
She shakes her head. “Water’s good.”
I pause.
Her brown eyes crinkle at the sides.
I slide my hand across the bar top and grab her by the wrist, my thumb brushing against her pulse. Tiny little flutters make themselves known against my skin.
There’s a cadence of two.
I can’t hold my smile back. “Congratulations.”
Alex turns back to us. “It’s not her birthday.”
I snort out a laugh. “He doesn’t know?”
Hope lifts her water glass to me and winks. “Cheers, I guess?”
“Know what?” Alex looks dumbly between us. “Hey, why aren’t you drinking white wine? It’s her favorite, worst bartender ever.”
“She’s pregnant, dumbass.” Cassius jerks out a barstool and plops down onto it. I’m surprised it doesn’t break under his weight. “Any idiot could tell. Are you sure you have Ra’s blood in you?”
“Smelled her from the door.” Timber appears suddenly behind Cassius. “Looks like the siren’s having a panic attack.” He kicks a barstool over. Alex collapses onto it, his face pale. “This might be the best day of my life.”
I laugh when Alex shakily reaches for his peppermint schnapps and starts chugging while the girls fall into easy conversation.
Tarek pops up next to me and slides a beer toward Timber. “Who’s pregnant?”
Hope raises her hand.
He sniffs the air. “Wow, good luck, Alex.”
Alex simply holds out his hand to me while the rest of the group laughs. “Where’s Ethan and Genesis?”
“Vacation.” Cassius shrugs. “And Mason went back to Scotland for a bit, so basically, I’m stuck in hell at the mansion with…” He makes a face at Alex. “That one.”
“He’s not that bad.” Stephanie nudges him in the ribs. “Plus, he got you that friendship bracelet.”
“It won’t come off.” His jaw clenches. “And it’s a mermaid.”
“I may have um… helped charm it,” Timber says guiltily. “But since it was a mermaid, I thought it was for Hope, so I wasn’t really—“
Cassius jumps to his feet, looking seconds away from obliterating Timber.
“Actually, I think my brother needs me. Behind the bar, far, far away from the angry archangel. Hey, how old are you anyway? Ten thousand? Twenty?” Timber laughs uncomfortably.
“Not helping.” Stephanie shoves Timber away.
“Once a demon, always a demon.” He salutes Cassius with his middle finger and nearly runs into Kit.
“You’re a demon?” she asks.
“One hundred percent accurate,” Alex speaks for Timber. “And I’m a male siren. I’ve been known to—”
Hope elbows him.
“What?” He blinks.
“It’s a family joke,” Tarek pipes up. “Right, Horus?”
“It’s a hilarious one too,” I deadpan. “One where this guy crossed an entire desert in nothing but a diaper and his will to live. Woke up with sand in every crevice, lost his memory, probably shit his pants, sound accurate Timber?”
I can feel his irritation.
He wants to punch me.
Hey, it’s been over a thousand years since I could tease the god of the underworld, and it’s deserved when it comes to this guy. Plus, he did abandon me for true love, as if that’s something special.
Maybe I’ve lived too long.
Timber holds up a finger. “First, I wasn’t in a diaper—“
Cassius leans forward. “Actually, ancient Egyptians used to wear a clothlike…” He reads the room and clears his throat. “It’s my birthday.”
Timber glares. “Forgiven.”
“Are these your friends?” Kit laughs.
“Family.” Timber eyes me up and down. “Can’t you see the resemblance in the good looks, the bright blond hair, and those eyes?”
She shrugs. “Sure?” She ignores the pull of all the immortals as if they have zero effect on her and turns to me. “Some guy puked in the men’s restroom then actually did shit his pants since he clearly didn’t have an Egyptian diaper on him. Can you send someone to clean it up?”
“Not it,” Tarek says quickly.
Timber’s stare is wicked. “I’m the owner of the club, so…”
“We have other waiters,” I point out.
Timber grabs me by the shoulders and points me toward the bathroom, whispering in my ear. “Yes, but Ted has trouble tying his shoes and would probably make the situation worse. You, however, have special abilities, so just pop right in there, do a little flick, and come back.”
“Why does it feel like Satan’s sitting on my shoulder?” I whisper so only he can hear. “And you know we aren’t supposed to use our powers flippantly.”
Timber slaps me on the ass. “Go, I believe in you.”
I roll my eyes and walk by Cassius. “He’s your problem now.”
Cassius keeps sipping his drink like he’s well aware that Timber’s his problem.
“But happy birthday,” I feel the need to add.
He grumbles something about being too old to be in a club while Timber joins Tarek behind the bar.
Kit’s nowhere to be seen when I gain enough courage to go to the men’s restroom. I’ve fought wars. I’ve faced gods. I’ve seen kingdoms rise and fall. And I still don’t feel prepared for what’s behind that metal door.
I take a deep breath and cautiously venture into the bathroom. The stench is so horrible that I almost gag. I can see puke and all the rest of the darkness near the third toilet.
There’s a guy lying on the tile floor groaning.
Yeah, well, it’s not a fun moment for me either. For being a club, the bathrooms are really nice, with black and white checkered floors, black walls, and mirrors that, if you look at them long enough, hold you captive until a demon can come in and feed on you.
That was Timber’s special touch before he actually gained his soul back, though he still keeps them in place so he can control and separate the bad demons from the good.
They think they’re about to have a snack all before he judges them and sends them into the underworld.
“Get up,” I bark. The guy has puke crusted on his green band T-shirt and can barely keep his eyes open. At least he has pants on.
He ignores me and groans into his hands. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Yeah.” I look around the bathroom. “Clearly, your intention was to make it into the toilet, not beside it.”
“Not that,” he yells, his eyes flashing red. “She doesn’t remember me! He promised! Damn it!” He starts banging his head back. “He said all I had to do was give it to her, but she still doesn’t remember me!”
Bartender, and now therapist. Have I mentioned I’m stuck in this timeline? Should I remind myself how strange humans are? The man is sitting in his own filth, talking about a woman who doesn’t remember him.
I tap my fingertips on the sink and then cross my arms. “There are plenty of hum—women.” I correct myself. “Around the dimensions—earth—planet—” Shit. “Seattle.” There that’s better. “Just be patient and sober up.”
A laugh bubbles out of him, and he starts to tug at his hair before pounding the back of his head against the black brick wall. “Nobody”—pound, pound, pound—“Will be like Cat.”
My eyes narrow. “You’re upset about a missing cat?”
“Are you an idiot?” He glares at me. “Her name was Cat.”
“Was she a cat?” I’m so confused.
“You’re dumb for an adult.”
“And you’re sitting in your own feces. I think I win this one. Now get up so I can clean you up and send you on your way.”
He gets to his feet and stumbles toward me. I hold my breath and snap my fingers, cleaning at least his clothes instantly, not that he would even notice that he suddenly doesn’t have puke down his shirt.
“Here!” He throws something that looks like a blue glass marble at my face. I wave my hand in between us to slow both time and the hit. I see the sky in that marble, and it feels so familiar, but I have no idea why.
He’s frozen in front of me, locked in his own thoughts and misery. I snatch the glass marble from the air and wave my hand again.
He stumbles forward. “What just happened?”
“You passed out again.” I shrug. “The hostess will get you a cab home, all right?”
He stares down at his hands. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
I say nothing about the strange marble.
“I lost it again, didn’t I? It’s not like it worked anyway. She didn’t even recognize me.”
“Yes, yes, your cat, I know.” I turn him toward the door. “Be safe, hydrate, go Hawks.”
“I hate football.”
“Yup, okay.” I shove him out the bathroom door and turn around. With a sigh, I wave my hand carelessly in front of me. The floor’s instantly clean, along with the toilet. I refill the paper towels the same way, then turn and look in the mirror only to see Kit’s face staring right back at me before she starts to faint.