"Fast-forward to present day. Some of the gods have made progress-learning humility, how to love and share their power-but it's not enough. They must all prove they're capable of real change or we all die; the Creator's going to scrap the whole terrarium and start over again."
"What? Scrap? Why? Creator?" Ashli said, holding back an epic meltdown.
"Wow. Ain't she full o' them big ol' words," said the bunny thug or whatever her name was.
"Why are you telling me all this?" Ashli muttered.
"Because," Anne said, "sometimes it just takes one person to turn the tides. One simple act. One simple gesture. But it must be out of love."
"Every ocean starts with one drop of water," added Jess.
"So tonight," Anne continued, "when the time comes, you will blow that whistle and do your thing."
"Huh?" Ashli didn't quite understand.
"And you will forget"-Anne snapped her fingers-"that we ever had this conversation, but you will remember what you must do."
"Okay. I will forget. And remember. But are you really … " Her voiced tapered off, and Ashli stood in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror.
What am I doing here? I need a drink!
Ashli wandered out into the party to find a cocktail for her unsteady nerves. She'd been there all of four minutes and had already been threatened by a beekeeper, fended off Máax's seductive package, been insulted by sex fairies, and then been accosted by …
Hmmm. That's strange. I can't remember. What was she about to do?
Find a supersized dirty martini, remember? Hopefully one that didn't contain anything otherworldly. Just good, old-fashioned vodka or gin. Or both. Hell. Didn't matter.
She stood on her tiptoes trying to spot the bar. There! A long line of people gathered around an elevated counter. Behind it stood a man who wore nothing but a giant wine barrel with a strap over each shoulder.
She made her way over and watched as he lined up ten glasses and proceeded to pour various multicolored liquids into them like a cocktail assembly line. The tenth glass he lifted to his mouth and gulped it down while people helped themselves to the full glasses. He repeated the task three more times before Ashli moved to the front of the line. The man, tall and rather good-looking, though clearly inebriated and in dire need of a comb, stopped his drink slinging and looked straight at her.
"Coming right up," he said and began mixing a dirty martini with blue cheese olives. Just the way she liked it.
"But how did you know that's what I wanted?" she asked as he placed the jumbo-sized martini glass right in front of her.
"He's Belch, the God of Wine and Intoxication," said a male voice at her side.
"Brutus. Ohmygod. Hi."
"It's been a long time." He hugged her, but did not let go.
Okay there, big boy. She wiggled loose. "Feels like a few days to me."
"Twenty years," Brutus said with regret. "Twenty long years."
Oh no. Poor guy. Changing subjects.
"So." She glanced back at the bartender. "Is he really the god of alcohol?"
"The nammme's Acan," the bartender slurred and winked at her.
Sure. They have a deity for bees, why not beer, too? Did they have a deity for clearance sales, as well? How about bacon and eggs? Those were important, right?
Ashli simply stared as he whipped up another batch of drinks, then lit them on fire. Wow.
"So. You enjoying the party?" Brutus asked.
"It's a party to celebrate the end of the world," she replied. "So, I'm not sure exactly."
"Drink," Acan slurred from behind the bar. "It will make you feel betewww." He winked again before moving his attention to the next person in line, a man with a three-foot-tall, silver-and-jade headdress with a serpent eating some corn. She felt compelled to comment, but then noticed his turquoise eyes and long silvery hair cascading down to his ankles.
Another deity. Actually, this one she remembered from the prison. He'd been throwing lightning bolts inside his cell.
Ashli stepped back a few feet, plucked the olive from her enormous martini glass, and threw back her drink. Wow. It was the best dang martini she'd ever had.
Without saying a word, the deity from behind the bar placed another in front of her. Wow. He knew she'd need two? Now those were some awesome powers.
She reached for it greedily. "Thank you."
The man bobbed his head and poured more drinks, which he again lit on fire. This time the flames reached two feet in height. The crowd applauded and then scooped them up.
"He's pretty impressive," she said to Brutus, who she now realized wore no costume. "Are you working?"
Brutus nodded yes. "Someone's got to keep the order. My men tend to get pretty wound up when the game gets to the final round."
Ashli sipped her second drink. "Game?"
"Yes. It's a tradition. The annual Uchben play-offs. We skipped last year's. Too much going on and Cimil was AWOL-she usually organizes the event-but we normally get together once a year, celebrate, and have a friendly game between the two teams: mortals versus immortals. The mortals always win because they have better reflexes; drives Cimil mad."
"Okay. I was about to say that I'd seen it all, heard it all, but somehow I just know that only means it's about to get weirder." Ashli began scanning the crowd, wondering where Máax was. No, she didn't want to talk to him, but she wanted to look at him. She couldn't help it. He was his own force of nature. Irresistible, sexy, and so over-the-top masculine that she couldn't stop wanting him even though she knew he'd only end up hurting her again.
Brutus grinned. "Weird is a good word for it. You are catching on to the way of our world, I see."
Ashli shrugged. "What's left of it, anyway."
"There are never any guarantees in life, Ashli. You of all people know that."
She shrugged. "How can you be so calm about all this? I look at this room filled with people who are all going to die because of me." Wow. Where had that come from?
"No, Ashli. None of this is your fault."
She gave it a moment of thought but still came to the same conclusion: It was her fault. If only she could have stayed in 1993 and found a way to survive.
She glanced over at a group of women standing next to them, laughing and hugging. One held an adorable little girl in her arms dressed as a ladybug with fangs.
Ashli's heart sank a little further.
Brutus squeezed her shoulder. "I know what you're thinking, but if you asked, they wouldn't blame you either so neither should you."
"I wish there was a way to fix this."
Brutus took a deep breath. "Perhaps there is. But you won't solve it tonight." His cell phone beeped, and he slid it from his pocket to read the message. "It's time. The final round. I better get over to the table before Cimil hurts someone. Come, you can watch."
Ashli glanced over her shoulder, feeling Máax's eyes on her, but with the dim lighting and extra-tall crowd, it was hard to spot anything beyond what was directly in front of her. She followed Brutus's hulking form through the mob of partygoers, which became denser as they neared the sound of Cimil's cackle.
"That's right, bitches. We're gonna win! I'm not letting the world end without that fucking trophy. It's mine!" Cimil's cackle turned into a strange howl.
Ashli peeked between Brutus and another large man. The people around the table either booed or cheered.
At the table, Cimil stood across from the mean blonde lady from earlier. Fate? An older gentleman wearing a Catholic priest's outfit stood next to Cimil, and across from him was a woman about Ashli's size with long dark hair, dressed as a clown.
"Wait a second," Ashli said loudly, trying to be heard above the noise of the cheering, "are they playing … "
"Hungry Hungry Hippos," Brutus finished her sentence.
Okaaaay. Yes, grown adults and seventy-thousand-year-old beings were facing off to a fierce game of Hungry Hungry Hippos. Seemed a little inappropriate given the horrific situation facing them all. But then again, they were at a party to celebrate the end. Piling on the inappropriate seemed par for the course.
"The last play-off was Barrel of Monkeys. It is a different game every year," Máax said from behind Ashli.
Máax … Oh, great, just what she needed. Another whiff of her Kryptonite for all intelligent thought. Her body immediately reacted to him, heating up ten degrees. Hotter in other places.