Page 15 of Cherish

“Forgetusbeing here,” Flint tells her. “Jikan’s here for a football game?”

I start to explain, but before I can, everyone on the field—and in the stands—freezes. Everyone, that is, except Jikan, who tosses a giant green foam finger on the ground and proceeds to stomp on it.

8

What’s Good for the Goose

Is Good for the Gargoyle

“Well, that’s a sight you don’t see every day.” Flint smirks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“That’sthe God of Time?” Heather asks incredulously.

“Oh, that’s him all right,” Flint answers with a rueful shake of his head.

Jaxon mutters to Flint, “‘God’ seems like a bit of an overstatement.”

For the most part, Jaxon’s just bitter—he and Jikan have never gotten along. But to be fair, a grown man/god having a full-blown temper tantrum over a sports call is a sight to see. Especially when that man/god is currently dressed like the most rabid sports fan in the history of sports fans.

Green T-shirt. Green hoodie. Green sweatpants. Green socks. Green hat. He’s even wearing green-and-gold-checkedloafers. I didn’t know such a thing existed before this moment, and to be honest, I could have gone my whole life without knowing it, let aloneseeingit. Whoever said ignorance is bliss obviously knew what they were talking about.

Jikan stamps a foot on the giant foam finger a couple more times, then slides back into his seat and waves his hand, the arena coming instantly back to life and the game continuing as though the God of Time hadn’t just frozen everyone on the field. To throw a tantrum.

“What’s got his rubber ducky boxers in such a twist anyway?” Eden asks.

Before anyone can make a guess, a long, loud shout of “goooooooooooooooal!” echoes through the air. Everyone wearing blue in the stands starts cheering.

“It appears green is his team.” Hudson glances at the metal scoreboard, two hooks with numbers dangling from each on big square cards. “And they’re having a very bad day.”

Considering the score is currently seven to zero in blue’s favor, I can’t disagree.

“Maybe now isn’t the best time to approach him,” Heather comments as Jikan leans forward and once again picks up his foam finger. This time, he tosses it onto the field before flopping back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. “He looks like he might turn us all into pocket watches if we get too close.”

“I’m pretty sure if he was going to smite anyone, he would have already done it to the green goalie.” Flint’s eyes are wide as he stares at a rather energetic goalie flying loop de loops over the goalposts.

When the goalie lands, then leaps back up, throwing his body into a midair somersault, all the while ignoring the ball heading straight downfield toward him, I wonder if Flint is right about the smiting. But if we don’t catch Jikan now, we won’t have another chance until next Thursday. And Mekhi doesn’t have that kind of time to waste—especially since we’re already here.

Besides, how pissed off can one godreallybe over a friendly soccer game, especially when the team rosters change each week as the captains—Jikan and Chastain—take turns picking players?

Apparently, the answer isverypissed off, as we climb the bleachers, and the ref—also known as my grandfather Alistair—throws a red card for one of the green players.

Jikan’s back on his feet, grabbing the railing in front of him. “Are you kidding me? Did all those years living in a cave make you unable to see under the lights or something?”

“Wow,” Jaxon murmurs as he settles into the seat next to Jikan’s and props his legs up on the metal bar. “Someone needs a nap.”

Because antagonizing an already pissed-off god who we need to ask for a favor seems like a good idea to my best friend and ex-mate.

“All that hair drains the sense out of him,” Hudson comments softly in my ear. “There’s no other answer for how bloody ridiculous he is.”

“It’s that or the dragon heart,” I reply.

“Hey, I heard that,” Eden complains. “Don’t go blaming that boy’s arrogance on dragons. That’s pure vampire.” She gives Hudson an arch look to enhance her point.

Jikan just glares at Jaxon—thankfully no smiting—as he very deliberately picks up his water bottle and puts it in the cupholder on the other side of his seat—away from Jaxon.

“No wonder we’re losing,” Jikan snipes as he pulls his green baseball cap down lower over his dark-brown eyes. “The goth harbinger of doom is in the house.”

“Pretty sure that’s a step up from Goth Boy,” Hudson murmurs.

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