“Cheetos,” Bikka yipped.
“Heh heh heh,” Mort breathed.
“Quiet,” Sam said to the backseat, and then put his hand on Shar’s shoulder. “I will not do that again. If Kammani comes back, if Ishtar rises, if my mother comes back and asks me to die, I swear to you, I’ll say, ‘No, my wife won’t let me.’ ”
“Wife?” Shar said, sniffing back a sob.
“Really, can we go now?” Wolfie said.
“I’m going to have hysterics right here unless somebody changes me back,” Mina barked.
“Nobody cares, you murderous bitch,” Umma growled.
“This chick is toast,” Milton said.
“Heh heh heh,” Mort said.
“Don’t make me come back there,” Sam said to the backseat, and turned to Shar. “I don’t think I can refuse to die for this world because of my girlfriend.”
“It lacks weight,” Shar said, blinking away the last of her tears. “But you’re mortal now. You marry me, that’s it. I’m the last woman you’re going to see naked.”
“Not as long as we have cable.”
Shar swallowed. “Plus … I still have powers. Al-Lat … I think it’s big stuff. Is that going to bother you? You used to be a god and now you’re mortal and—”
“Shar,” Sam said. “I love you. I loved you from the moment I saw you.”
“Oh, I loved you, too,” Shar said, leaning toward him.
“No, you didn’t,” Sam said. “You Tasered me.”
“Well, I sensed what was coming.” Shar looked up into his beautiful, mortal face. “You’re really going to give it all up for me?”
“Give up what?” Sam settled back against the seat. “I’m tired of being sacrificed and I never did like being a king. Too damn much paperwork. I’m going to retire and make video games with Christopher and sit on the couch and eat Cheetos with Bikka while you go out and support me.”
“Cheetos!” Bikka yipped.
“Damn straight,” Sam said over the seat. He smiled at Shar. “My family’s big on ritual. Let’s get married.”
Shar felt goofy inside. She didn’t want to get married, she’d never wanted to get married, but it was Sam and she was never going to leave him, so—
“You’re just trying to get your hands on my temple,” she said, smiling at him as she leaned forward again.
“I’m gonna get my hands on your temple anyway,” Sam said, and kissed her, and she fell into him again, divinely happy.
Mina yapped, “Stop it; stop it; stop it!” and the rest of the dogs chimed in, barking at her in a cacophony of “freak-bitch-toast-die-heh-heh-heh-Cheeto!” and Sam turned and said, “ENOUGH!”
The car went instantly silent.
He turned back to Shar and said, “I love you,” and kissed her again, and she sighed against his mouth, and kissed him back, and knew she’d have him forever.
She looked up into those dark hooded eyes and said, “Can we go home now?”
“That’s what I said,” Wolfie barked.
“You’re sitting on my tail,” Milton said.
“Get off of my leg,” Mina snapped.
“Heh heh heh,” Mort breathed.
And Sam put the car in gear and they went home.
It was dark and she was walking on sand and her head hurt and she finally could not walk any farther and fell on her knees, crying out in pain. She was lost forever, forever; she was lost—
“Who’s out there?”
She lifted her head and saw a light, flashing on the sand, and then on her, and she shielded her eyes.
“Holy shit, you’re naked,” a man said, and the light went away and she felt something soft go around her. “That’s my bathrobe, sorry about the damp.”
She pulled the robe around her and felt his strong hand under her arm, helping her stand.
“What happened? I was out on the deck when I heard you scream. Did you fall off a boat?”
She blinked. “I don’t know.”
“What’s your name, honey?” The hand on her arm tugged her up the sand, and as they went around a dune, she saw lights blazing and large houses, made mostly of glass.
“I don’t know.”
He stopped. “You have amnesia? My house is right up there; we’ll call nine-one-one.”
She leaned on him and they made their way across the sand to wooden steps and a wood-planked walkway.
“You’re an actress, right? That face and that body, you’re an actress.”
“I don’t know.”
He stopped again. “A beautiful woman with a killer body and amnesia washes up in front of the beach house of an agent. You telling me that’s for real?”
She blinked at him. “I don’t know.”
“Right. Well, you washed up to the right place, honey. I can make anybody a star. You know who my latest client is? A month-old baby. Camisole. Cami. The kid’s gonna be huge. And you’re gonna be just as a big. Of course, you’ll have to lose a little weight.”
Something stirred inside her. “No.”
The man snorted in the darkness. “A diva already.”
“No,” she said, seizing the only glimmer of a memory she had. “I’m a goddess.”
“That’s good,” he said, “a goddess. I can work with that.”
And then he led her up the beach to her new life.
Dogs and Goddesses Page 36