“Did your mom know?” Abby asked Shar.
“Oh, yes,” Shar said. “I remember her arguing with my grandmother, saying, ‘She’s never coming.’ I think…”
She tried to remember her mother, what she’d been like aside from the default “my mother,” and all she could remember was Sharon bent over her research. “I think my grandmother kept her under her thumb, kept her trained as a priestess because she thought Kammani was coming back at any minute.”
“And your grandmother learned that from her mother,” Abby said.
“No,” Shar said. “My grandmother was Sharrat. She was one of the original seven.”
“Whoa.” Daisy put her glass down, empty, and reached for another little bottle. “So you actually knew the real deal.”
“Yes,” Shar said, thinking of her flintlike grandmother. She’d had a kind of terrible beauty, even into her nineties, all cheekbones and dark eyes, driven by impatience and fury. “Be glad you missed out on knowing your ancestor.”
“I think Granny liked her mother.” Abby looked around the kitchen. “Her mom started this coffeehouse back in 1925 when the college was built and then gave it to Granny. I think Abi-simti was okay.”
“Who cares?” Daisy put her empty glass on the table again. “That’s history and this is now.” She poked her finger into the basket. “Where the hell did all the rum boozles go?”
Shar pulled the basket over and found her another Bacardi. “We care,” she told Daisy as she handed it to her. “We have to know what they were doing then, because it’ll help us figure out what Kammani is doing now. Especially if Abby can make the tonic. I have a feeling being able to see those power colors is going to be helpful, but not helpful enough for me to drink anything else Kammani brews.”
“Well, Humusi must have been a real go-getter,” Daisy said. “All I know about her is that she married a pal of John Summer’s, made sure he made a fortune in construction, and then swanked around in that big yellow house down the street. My grandmother inherited all their money and lost it somehow, and let me tell you, Peg is not happy about that.”
“Peg?” Shar said.
“My mother of the sudden allergies,” Daisy said, and knocked back another hit of Bacardi and aspartame.
“What does she do for a living?” Shar said, trying to put the pieces together.
“She outlived my father.” Daisy picked up one of the empty little bottles. “You think Bea was trying to make tonic, Abby, and your grandmother was trying to keep the history, Shar, and the Worthams have obviously stayed big on death. Vera sold vitamins, and I bet she inherited that from her mom. It’s like—what do they call those agents who live normally for years until they’re activated? Sleepers?”
“I think that’s right,” Shar said. “I think they were supposed to wait for Kammani and she never came.”
Daisy sat back, and Shar could see she was more relaxed now. Actually, she was loose as all hell now.
Or maybe that’s me, she thought, and finished her second drink.
Daisy put her empty little bottle down on the table. “Well, she’s here now and we have to do something about it, because I am not going to watch you guys die, and nobody’s touching Gen and Bun, either.” Daisy held out her hand for the basket. “Mina I can spare. Give me another boozle.”
Abby looked through the basket and tossed Daisy another Bacardi, which she almost missed, and then handed Shar another vodka. “More orange juice?”
“Oh, yeah,” Shar said, feeling a little echoey. Abby brought back the juice and Shar squinted up at her. “Are you okay? You’re really quiet.”
“I’m all right,” Abby said, not meeting her eyes. “So I’ll keep looking for anything from Abi-simti here, especially the tonic recipe.”
“What’s wrong?” Shar said, the booze slowing her down enough that she was noticing things now. “Did something happen?”
“You know who you could ask?” Abby said. “Sam.”
“Talk about an easy nut to crack,” Daisy said. “It’s up to you now, Shar. Drag that boy’s ass to bed and screw the information out of him.”
“Daisy!” Shar said.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Daisy said. “We need inside information, and you want him so bad, you vibrate with it. Plus, he’s totally into you. Three birds, one bone.”
“He’s into everybody,” Shar snapped. “Manwhore, remember?”
“Yes, but you’d be doing it for us,” Daisy said, leaning forward.
“Like a sacrifice,” Abby said. “Just go throw yourself on his horned altar.…”
Daisy giggled, a real little-girl giggle, and Shar bit her lip so she wouldn’t giggle, too.
“Very funny,” she said, picking up her glass again. “Unfortunately, Sam’s altar is a little crowded—”
“Not after he sleeps with you.” Daisy sat back, smug with her drink. “You have a Glittery HooHa.”
THIRTEEN
Shar choked on her screwdriver, and Abby put her cup down and said, “She has what?”
“You never heard of the Glittery HooHa?” Daisy straightened. “Oh, this is gonna be good. You guys know movies, but I…” She thumped herself on the chest. “. . . I know soap operas.”
“Uh-huh,” Shar said, reaching for another boozle. She didn’t care about soap operas, but since Sam wasn’t on one and Daisy was no longer near tears over Vera, it was a damn good topic.
“There is a certain kind of heroine on soap operas,” Daisy said. “She is always blond, always beautiful, and always stupid beyond the telling of it.”
Abby snorted over her hot chocolate and Shar relaxed. Daisy was okay. Abby was getting better. And Sam was still with Kammani. Two for three, she thought. Not bad.
“And yet,” Daisy said, “there is a man. We’ll call him … Hero. Hero is handsome, he is strong…”Daisy cocked a drunken eyebrow at Shar—“. . . he is godlike…”
“Watch it,” Shar said, and knocked back more juice and booze.
“. . . and he stays by her side and loves her through thick and thin. He opens the door to the microwave she’s trapped herself in; he disentangles her hair from the curling iron; he saves a puppy from a Dumpster for her—”
“That kinda sounds like Sam,” Abby said, her voice wistful, and Shar looked at her and thought, Something bad happened to Abby, and felt angry. Abby should have only good things. They all should have only good things, not that damn temple and death and—
Daisy talked on, oblivious in her rum haze. “And why does Hero not care how breathtakingly stupid his girl is? It’s the power of the Glittery HooHa.” Daisy slammed her glass on the table. “A woman with a hooha as glittery as this girl merely needs to walk around as glitter falls from her netherparts, leaving a trail for Our Hero to follow. And once he finds her, it only takes one dip in the Glittery HooHa to snare him forever.” Daisy raised her glass. “For yea, no matter how many hoohas he might see, never will there be one as glittery as hers.…”
“What are you talking about?” Shar said.
“Your hooha,” Daisy said, lowering her glass. “It glitters. For Sam.”
“Oh,” Abby said wisely. “Of course.”
Shar looked at her. “Of course? Of course?”
“That’s why Sam won’t look at other women after he sleeps with you,” Abby said. “You have glitter. Blue glitter, probably.”
“Yep,” Daisy said, raising her glass to Abby. “Abby gets it. And Sam’s gonna get it, too. One dip and he’s done.” She waggled her fingers in the general direction of the door. “Now go jump that puppy.”
Shar looked at the ceiling. “The puppy’s a god working for a goddess who plans to take over the world using us as her minions. And you want me to get naked with him.”
Daisy leaned forward and tried to put her chin in her hand as her elbow slipped on the tabletop. “That’s the whole point. Once he dips, he’ll be yours. He’ll switch sides. He can’t help it.”
“ ’Cause your hooha glitters,�
� Abby said, and Shar realized she was drunk, too.
“My hooha does not glitter,” Shar said, and giggled. Oh, hell, I’m drunk, too.
“It totally glitters,” Daisy said. “As mine glitters for Noah, who is also working for that Barbie Doll from Hell—”
“Mesopotamia,” Shar said in the interests of accuracy.
“—but he’s totally trustworthy. I’m sure of it.” And she downed the last of her drink, looking miserable.
“Mine doesn’t,” Abby said, a catch in her throat, and Daisy and Shar both swung to face her.
“Doesn’t what, baby?” Shar said, and reached out and patted her arm. “What’s wrong?”
“My hooha,” Abby said. “It’s not glittery.”
“Of course it is,” Daisy said, her voice hearty. “Christopher follows the trail back here twice a day.”
“Not anymore,” Abby said.
“Did you have a fight?” Shar said, patting faster.
“We had sex,” Abby said, her voice breaking, and Shar stopped patting and Daisy leaned forward.
“You devirginated?” Daisy gaped at her. “And you didn’t tell us?”
“I wanted to, but I was going to wait until after the temple thing, and then Vera died, and this is nothing compared to that—”
“Was it bad?” Shar said, sympathetic from much experience.
“It was wonderful,” Abby said. Shar blinked. “Then what—”
“If it was good during, then it was bad after,” Daisy said, her voice suddenly grim. “What did the asshole do?”
“He walked away,” Abby said, and burst into tears.
“Oh, baby,” Shar said, and got up to put her arms around
Abby and met Daisy, moving in on Abby’s other side, and they held her and each other, the three of them tightly bound together, and Daisy said, “You’re in our pack now,” and something clicked through the booze and the sympathy and the grief for Vera, and they looked at one another, and Shar felt tears in her eyes.
“Here’s my plan,” Daisy said. “We kill Christopher and bury Kammani in her little temple.”
“Yes,” Shar said, blinking her gaze clear again. “We’re going to have to find a way.”
“Don’t kill Christopher,” Abby said. “I think I love him.”
“Okay,” Daisy said. “Kneecaps only, then.” She stepped out of the group hug to face Shar and Abby. “New plan. When Peg comes back home, I’m going to grill her on what she knows. And I’ll snoop around to see if Great-Gramma Humusi left a clue.”
“That’s good,” Shar said, patting Abby.
“And Abby will find out how to make the power tonic and see what she can find in Bea’s stuff.”
“That’s good,” Shar said again, and Abby nodded, sniffing once.
Daisy looked at Shar. “And you look through your book and everything in that temple of yours and see what Sharrat was up to.”
“I love this plan,” Shar said. “I’m excited it could work! Let’s do it!” They both looked at her and she said, “Sorry. Ghostbusters. I had to watch it last this weekend. Milton loves it.”
Daisy nodded. “Okay then. Next, we’ll crack Christopher’s kneecaps—”
“No!” Abby said.
“Okay. We’ll put the kneecapping on hold.” Daisy’s smile faded. “And I’ll see if Noah knows anything about Miss Mesopotamia,” she said, looking grim.
“That’s good,” Shar said.
Daisy perked up. “And Shar will sleep with Sam.”
“Okay, now on that one,” Shar began.
“Trust me on this, it’s gonna happen sooner or later anyway, and sooner will help,” Daisy said. “Fuck a god, save the world. It’s really a win-win.”
Abby nodded. “When she puts it like that, how can you refuse?”
Shar thought of Sam, not Sam the God, but Sam who’d picked up Milton and treated Wolfie like a pal and protected her wherever they were and loved Big Trouble in Little China and cookies. Sam the Guy, not Sam the God.
“You sure I have a glittery hooha?” she asked Daisy.
“I’m blinded,” Daisy said.
“Maybe,” Shar said, and thought, Yes.
“And then we’ll send that bitch Kammani back where she came from,” Daisy said.
“Now that’s a plan,” Shar said, and prayed it would sound just as good once they sobered up.
When the temple was quiet again, Kammani stood at the altar and thought, How could this happen? She had not decreed that Vera should die. Vera was under her protection. This was wrong.
Someone is against me, she thought, sinking down to sit on the altar steps. Someone is working against me.
Did Ishtar come into this new world, too?
The thought of it made her sad. No, it was deeper than sadness. It was that strange feeling again.…
Umma and Bikka came to stand beside her, and she bent to stroke their backs, comforted by their familiarity, but the weight stayed on her: doubt, uncertainty, pain…
I hate this world.
Sam came to the bottom of the steps. “Is there anything you require?”
Yes, Kammani thought. I require my priestesses; I require worshipers; I require a temple with a top on it; I require my old world back.…
He stood there, strong and silent, the only thing from her old world left to her.
I require you.
“You can go,” Mina said to him, moving to stand between them. “I will serve the goddess.”
Sam ignored her.
Kammani came down the steps to him. “What happened here?” she demanded. It was probably his fault somehow. What kind of king put his people first, anyway?
“She died,” Sam said.
“Did you see—”
“She put her hand over her heart and she died,” Sam said. “You’ve done this many times before, and no one has ever died. It wasn’t you.”
“I know it wasn’t me,” Kammani snapped, and then doubt rose up again, another gift from this lousy world, and she said miserably, “They’re usually younger when I take them. Maybe…”
“These people are strong.” Sam looked at her kindly. “You didn’t kill her.”
Kammani nodded. “Daisy was angry.”
“She lost a friend.”
“But she’ll come back,” Kammani said, as much to herself as to him. “They’ll come to me.”
Sam took a step back. “I have to go.”
“Go?” Kammani felt anger swamp grief. “You would leave me now?”
The doors scraped open again, and Noah strode across the floor to her, his face dark. “What the hell happened here?” he said as Sam watched.
He didn’t step in front of Kammani to protect her.
He knows Noah will not hurt me, Kammani thought, but still, he had not stepped in front of her. This was all wrong.
“What the hell did you do?” Noah said to Kammani, ignoring Sam.
“Nothing.” Kammani lifted her chin. “She had a weak heart, it was her time. I did nothing.”
“You did something,” Noah said. “You told me no one would get hurt—”
“I did not hurt anyone,” Kammani said coldly. “I will not hurt any of them. Daisy—”
“You can forget Daisy,” Noah said. “She’s never coming back here.”
“Daisy will come to me,” Kammani said coldly. “As will you. You are my servant—”
“Bullshit,” Noah said. “I quit, and you’re going to stay away from Daisy, do you understand me?”
“You overreach, son of a cockroach,” Mina said, stepping between him and Kammani.
Where Sam should have been, Kammani thought.
“You stay away from her, too,” Noah said to Mina. “Whatever you two are up to here, Daisy’s out of it.” He turned and walked out, and Kammani felt real fear. If Noah kept Daisy from returning—
Mina drew close. “I stay by your side, my goddess.”
But I need Daisy. I need the Three. Kammani opened her mouth to send Mina away an
d realized that Mina was all she had. Noah was gone; the Three had withdrawn; Bun and Gen had very little faith, and that was commanded, not freely given. Only Mina was strong. Mina and Miriam and the Worthams…
But there should have been more. Millions called her name; they were why she was here; they had called her to save them—
“I hate this world,” she said. “Nothing is right.”
“You’re in the wrong place,” Sam said gently. “You’re in the wrong time.”
She looked at him, startled.
“I’ve learned a lot in five days,” Sam said. “We’re not gods here. If we want to stay, we have to join their world, follow their ways. We can’t bring our world back, Kammani. It’s gone. It was buried a long time ago.”
“My goddess will rule again,” Mina snapped, coming forward. “We will bring her word to the people of this world tomorrow at the Goddess Way meeting and they will love her.” She stuck her chin out. “And she has an audition at Channel Four on Thursday. They will love her and put her on the air, and she will reach thousands and they will come to her.”
The words were balm to Kammani—they will come to me—but Sam ignored Mina and said to her, “There was a time and a place where the people came to you, and you had no need of posters or auditions. That you have to do all of this to reach the people shows you they are not yours.”
Kammani put her hand on her forehead. Headache again, maybe a migraine, she’d seen those on TV. Mortals get aches, not goddesses, she thought, and tried to ignore it.
“Don’t try to be what you were, not here,” Sam said. “Go back to sleep or go back to Kamesh, but do not try to be a goddess here. You’ll fail. And you’ll hurt this world doing it.”
“Traitor!” Mina spat, and Sam turned to go.
“STAY!” Kammani said, but he kept walking. “Where are you going?” she said, and then he was gone and she knew where. Sharrat.
If she could bring the Three back to the temple, Sam would follow Sharrat, and she could sacrifice the bastard again, and the people would follow her, saved by his blood—
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