were you then, Mrs. God-Strike? Playing housewife?”
“I was in Chattanooga even if you weren’t,” Barb said. “When it’s time, it’s time. And this is time. I need to know where you are and I need to get there before you do anything… Just wait for me to get there.”
“What? Foolish?” Janea snapped. “What’s so important this time? It’s a lousy little Shambler. I can dispel one in my sleep.”
“I don’t know,” Barb said. “But I do know that I have to be there. And I’d suggest you don’t do anything until I get there.”
“How do you know?” Janea asked sarcastically. “God tell you?”
“Yes,” Barb said.
“Wait,” Janea said. “I was joking. Are we talking about the White God? Or just, you know, a messenger?”
“God,” Barb said. “Not the Holy Spirit. Not an angel. Not Jesus. God. In person. And it’s not an experience I’d prefer to repeat.”
“And He told you…what?” Janea asked, fascinated. She’d felt the power of Freya many times, but once, through Barb, she’d gotten a touch of the power of the White God, and it was the difference between a firecracker and a nuclear weapon. She had never had a direct god call, but she’d heard that even with minor deities they could be unpleasant. She didn’t want to think about what a direct call from the Big Guy would be like.
“To go to the priestess of love,” Barb said, sarcastic in turn. “How many priestesses of love do I know?”
“Really?” Janea said, grinning. “The Big Guy said that? About me?”
“Actually, it’s not words, you know that,” Barb said. “It was more like…‘seek she who gives love greatly.’ Maybe ‘quest for.’ It’s… But, hell, He included a picture. It was you.”
“God knows me?” Janea squealed.
Agent Diller had been trying to ignore the conversation, but at that he turned his head and frowned.
“God knows everybody, Janea,” Barb said. “Now where are you?”
“On Interstate 75 near Knoxville,” Janea said. “We’re going to meet with a cave rescue team.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody needs rescuing from a cave?” Janea said.
“Don’t go into the cave until I get there,” Barb said. “Seriously. Don’t.”
“We won’t,” Janea replied. “When can you get here?”
“I’ve got to get the kids dropped off and make arrangements,” Barb said. “Then I’ll get on the road. I’ll be there by morning.”
“There’s a girl’s life at stake here, Barb,” Janea pointed out.
“God knows everyone, Janea,” Barb replied. “And He knows the fall of a sparrow. Don’t. Go.”
“Roger,” Janea said. “Barb, seriously, glad to have you back.”
“I’m not sure I am,” Barb said. “But I’m back for this.”
“So…what was that?” Diller asked as Janea pulled back into traffic.
“That was Soccer-Momasaurus,” Janea said.
“Who is?”
“Barbara Everette,” Janea said. “She strongly suggested, more like ordered, that we wait to penetrate the cave until she gets here.”
“That was the part about ‘There’s a girl’s life at stake.’”
“Yes,” Janea said. “And if Barb says wait, we wait.”
“There’s a girl’s life at stake,” Diller said.
“Remember my thing about ‘Don’t be a hero’?”
“Yeah,” Diller said, angrily.
“Well, that’s the way I am with Barb,” Janea said. “If Barb says wait, or run, or duck, or squat, I run or duck or squat.”
“Why?” Diller asked.
“Because…” Janea said, then paused. “Okay, think of me as a hand grenade. I can take out, well, a Shambler easily enough. I took on a pretty serious incubus, and despite the fact that his powers and mine…overlapped, I managed to avoid his temptations and destroy him.”
“Okay,” Diller said, frowning. “Sorry, but this stuff is still…”
“Yeah,” Janea said. “I know. That was the one where I lost the poor bastard with the wife and kids. Incubi and succubae are the same thing, they just…morph. I told him to run.”
“I remember the lecture.”
“Well, if I’m a hand grenade, Barb is a nuclear weapon,” Janea said. “A big one. A city buster.”
“Oh. What was that thing about ‘God knows me’?”
“That’s why she’s a city buster,” Janea said, pulling off at the exit. “Barb gets her power from what we Asatru call the White God. The only member of FLUF who does.”
“You mean the Christian God?” Diller asked, sarcastically. “Big beard, floating in the sky?”
“Right,” Janea said. “The Big Guy. Mr. Beard.”
“Well, I’ll believe that one when I see it,” Diller said. “God doesn’t drop down and help out. That I know.”
“Oh, He does,” Janea said, pulling in at the hotel where they were to meet the rescue squad. “He just chooses His time and His methods.”
“And what are His time and His methods?” Diller asked, still sarcastic.
Janea took off her sunglasses and turned to look him in the eye.
“Wherever Barbara Everette is.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Janea said, rubbing her eyes as she opened the door.
“I hope like hell you have two beds,” Barbara said, brushing past her, setting down the cat bag and letting Lazarus out. She looked around the room and shook her head. “ How long have you been here?”
“I got here this…yesterday morning,” Janea asked, looking around in confusion. “Why?”
Janea had a number of habits that Barb found mildly irritating. She couldn’t drive very well. And while Barb understood that sensuousness was part of Janea’s calling, there were times when she took it a bit too far.
But while Barb had recalled those on the very long drive, she had somehow managed to forget what sharing a room with Janea was like.
Although it had taken her less than twenty minutes to pack, Barb knew where every single item was in her suitcase. She had grown up as a military brat, and packing was very close to breathing as a skill. If she needed a pair of running shoes, she knew they were at the base of her larger bag, upright, held in place by two pairs of jeans. If she needed pumps, they were in the same bag, left side, middle. Barb had two clothes bags, the larger case and a folding hanging case for dressier wear.
Janea, on the other hand, had a special method of packing. When she was going on assignment she would grab a pile of whatever was closest and reasonably clean. She would then throw it in up to ten bags along with shoes, makeup at random, and whatever else struck her fancy, including various “toys.” When she needed something, she would then tear through most of the bags trying to find it, tossing everything in her way in random directions.
There were clothes hanging from wall sconces. Not neatly on hangers, but because that was where they landed. There were clothes on the table, both beds, every horizontal surface including the entire floor. And not just clothes. Adjusted as she was to Janea, and worldly as Barb was, some of the things that were scattered around the room made her blush.
“Never mind,” Barb said, dragging her cases into the room and finding a spot with not too much in it. She dumped the pile of clothes on the bed onto the floor and shook her head. “It was a long drive. Talk in the morning?”
