Novelist and more.
Andrew Baxter’s new associate, Sheehan the Goddess of Peace, has just calmed the rest of the Pantheon of New Gods after an outbreak of…disagreement…encouraged by the table of War. Just as she begins to sit, Andrew sees motion out of the corner of his eye and instinctively raises his hand to guard her back.
One of the Avatars at their table gasped.
Sticking through his prosthetic hand was a sharpened steak knife.
All of them turned toward the table of war.
Expressionless faces looked back at them. Tilda gave Andrew the finger again, raised her right hand imitating him then slapped the opposite side of her hand into her eye which stoked her table into evil, dark laughter.
“They…they tried to kill you.” Andrew said through gritted teeth.
Sheehan shook her head and grasped his hand; the knife fell out as if the hand was a ghostly appendage, “No Andrew, something like that can’t kill me. It would have hit me and gotten my attention is all. I would have barely felt it.”
“It’s what they do, it’s what my brother does.” She shrugged sitting back down.
Andrew stared at the knife for a second and heard Tilda’s laughter over the slow rising sounds of calm conversation.
His left natural hand shot out and his chair fell over as he marched over to the table of war.
“Andrew! Stop!” Sheehan cried.
“Uh oh, looks like Geronimo’s on the warpath!” Tilda laughed as she kicked back her own chair and stood.
He rolled the blade over his hand until the point was down.
“There’s one thing I learned in my service…” he said as Tilda bounced in place in a boxer’s stance.
Scipio grinned up at her and continued eating watching Andrew approach.
“…don’t go for the body, when it’s the head you want to take!”
He slammed the knife deep into the steak Scipio was eating, missing Scipio’s nose by less than an inch.
Stunned, Tilda took a cautionary step back and aware from the God of War.
War’s fellow Gods and Goddesses stepped away from the table.
“Andrew.” Sheehan’s hand rested on his arm but he shrugged it away.
The room became deathly quiet.
“Oh you are dead, Tonto.” Tilda said coming around Scipio.
Scipio stopped her with a raised hand.
He set his fork and knife down and leaned back in his chair.
“Scipio.” Sheehan said, with caution in her tone.
He grinned ominously, “Once is a mistake, twice is a challenge.”
Tilda bounced on her toes ready to fight, “Oh you are dead, dead, little injun!”
Thunder rolled overhead.
Andrew leaned in close over the table, “I don’t know what your…your…pantheon of Gods games are but I don’t play them! You act like brats, act without thoughts of the consequences, and do whatever you feel like! I don’t play your stupid games! You try to kill someone in my presence and I will retaliate! You got that?” He stared at Scipio then looked over his shoulder at Tilda, “Do you get that!”
She sneered, “I don’t get squat, but I got something for you pretty boy!” she motioned for him to bring it on.
“You see why he’s one of mine?” Scipio grinned at his sister.
“I see what you don’t, which makes him one of mine.” She answered.
Tilda was still bouncing ready for a fight.
“Stop moving. It’s distracting.” Scipio’s voice had its own power.
Tilda reacted like a struck dog, stopping her bouncing immediately and dropping her eyes to the floor, taking a step back.
“You can release him. I’ll find some use for him.” Scipio suggested.
Andrew glanced back at Sheehan.
She smiled sweetly up at Andrew, “Why brother dear, who said I ever took him? He hasn’t chosen to be my avatar yet. I may have chosen him but for now he’s only my guest.”
Andrew gave her a curious glance.
Scipio huffed, “They don’t choose, we choose and they do what we say.”
“I’m trying something new this go around.”
“Then I could take him at this moment if that was the case.” Scipio grinned.
“You could try.” She replied sweetly.
To be continued…