But a month later, she’d confessed she was a demigod in the employee kitchen while we were on a Ding Dong break at two a.m.
“You’re joking.” I’d paused with a mouth full of chocolate cake and lips coated with white filling.
Val had pressed her gorgeous lips together and set down her Ding Dong. Then she’d grabbed her phone and dialed.
Three seconds later … I’d nearly died of a heart attack. Because a dude with a Grateful Dead t-shirt and grey goat legs appeared in the break room. Out of nowhere.
I’d tried to shove Val behind me—do the protector thing while I tried to figure out if I was being punked, if this dude was a magician, or if my Ding Dongs had been spiked with LSD.
But Val had only laughed and pushed me aside. “Dev, this is Asteio. He’s another demigod. He’s got actual powers, unlike me. Asteio, would you mind showing Dev?”
Asteio had waved his hand and, immediately, his goat legs had turned human. Unfortunately, that had meant the rest of his lower body turned human too—including his dick, which was hanging out because he hadn’t worn pants.
“Whoa! I meant your other powers!” Val had given a girlish giggle that I’d never heard before. A flirtatious giggle that made me feel like grabbing the microwave off the countertop and hurling it at Asteio.
I hadn’t.
But I’d wanted to. And I’d never been a very violent guy before that.
Asteio had put back his goat legs then wiggled his fingers and shot wine through the air like a stream from a water fountain. I’d been so shocked I hadn’t opened my mouth and the wine had hit me in the face, soaked my shirt, and gotten me fired after our shift manager had appeared and Asteio had magically disappeared at the same time.
The shift manager hadn’t believed my story about a magic goat man shooting wine at me. Go figure.
Val had walked me out. “I’m so sorry. That wasn’t fair.” The shift manager hadn’t listened to Val argue. He hadn’t fired her, because, well, before her the only woman on the night shift had been a middle-aged bruiser named Mandi.
“Life’s not fair,” I’d tried to shrug it off and focus on more important things. Like the fact that deities actually existed. And procreated with humans. And semi deities might do the same. “So, you really are a half god?”
She’d gotten this adorable blush. “Yeah.”
“Do … you mind me asking which god?”
She’d glanced around nervously. “Can I tell you tomorrow?”
“You wanna see me tomorrow?”
“Can I stop by after work?”
My heart and dick remembered that moment in exact detail. The look on her face. This shy, sweet glance just for me. The tip of her teeth biting down on her lower lip.
“I want to get a taste of human life,” she’d said.
I’d stepped forward, drawn in like a magnet, breath fleeing my lungs.
But then … she’d friend-zoned me. She’d reached out and given me the arm pat of death. Not an arm brush. Not a suggestive touch. The old “buddy” arm pat.
And that’s when I’d realized, she only thought of me as a friend.
Still only thinks of me as a friend.
I pull open my desk drawer and stare at the arrow. It looks so innocuous. So normal. It doesn’t sparkle or glow or show any sign of magic. But … it could make her mine.
Val.
My Val.
She could actually become my Val.
The bleating of goats through the phone brings me back to our conversation.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Hitching a ride,” Val whispers. “Meet you on your rooftop in two hours.”
I swallow hard. “Yup, sounds good.”
Two hours. Shit. That doesn’t give me much time. I snatch up the arrow and hang up the phone. I march out of the office before seven p.m. for once.
Because Val and I have a date.
A dinner.
With destiny.
3
Val
I’m really grateful for cloud cover since I didn’t think to grab any of Dad’s stored bags of clouds from the stable before I left. It would have been really awkward to have to explain flying a cart driven by goats through the sky.
If Dad had reindeer, no one would bat an eyelash to see them flying. Humans would think it was some publicity stunt for Christmas.
But goats?
Nobody remembers anymore that Thor brings the thunder by driving his goat-led cart through the clouds. That’s one of the things Dad constantly bemoans when I visit, because Chris Kringle makes a killing off of reindeer merch. But a red-nosed American Pygmy on a shirt just gets you weird looks. I know. I tried it.
Luckily, I don’t have to come up with some half-assed explanation for my actions because nobody sees me before I land on Dev’s roof.
I clamber out ungracefully, my human side rearing its klutzy head, and toss the goats a couple of my old t-shirts to chew on before I head to the emergency stairwell. The shirts are a crappy snack but they were the best bribe I had in my room.
The stairwell door opens as I reach it and Dev steps out. He always has perfect timing. Sometimes, I feel like we have this strange psychic connection—like he just knows what I’m thinking.
It’s crazy—certainly, all my sisters and my stepmothers tell me it is. ‘Guys are idiots,’ they say, ‘Guys don’t understand anything.’
But Dev gets me.
Like now, when he shows up carrying a dozen pink roses. My heart swells; he’s the sweetest thing. I rush up to him and grab them.
“Oh, you’re a lifesaver!” I exclaim and take the fragrant blooms from him. “The girls are starving after our trip.”
I run back to Tanny and Tangy and hold out half the roses to each of them. Their bulging little caprine eyes light up as they both chomp down on a perfect rose. Their bleats of pleasure make my heart soar.
I spent a lot of time with these hircin beauties growing up in Asgard, and roses are their favorite. Dev’s never even met them before, but he must have looked up goat foods before I got here.
He’s so thoughtful like that.
Dev comes up to stand beside me.
“You’re amazing,” I compliment and give him a hip bump. Ecstasy zips through me, just like it does every time I touch him—which isn’t often.
I glance up at him, to see if I have the same effect on him that he has on me but he doesn’t look exactly happy, let alone ecstatic. His face is strained and his lips pursed together tightly.
“Glad I made someone’s night,” he mumbles as he bends forward stiffly to pet Tangy’s head.
“Careful!” I laugh, grabbing his hand and pulling it back as Tangy bares her teeth at him. “Not nice,” I scold the goat, who rolls her eyes at me.
I get attitude from an animal that would eat used condoms.
Typical.
I drop the rest of the roses onto the roof so that the animals can finish their treat, and I head inside with Dev.
He doesn’t drop my hand.
Does that mean he wants to hold it?
Touching him gives me the craziest thrill. My chest puffs full of air and anticipation, just like it does before my dad and I run through a lightning bolt obstacle course that he’s made on the outskirts of Asgard. Dev’s touch is as potent as the fear of getting struck by lighting.