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We took his car to Club Debussy, having promised to meet everyone there. We were mostly quiet on the drive over, maybe from the shared relief of having survived the incident at the warehouse. But as we pulled into the parking lot, Morrow loudly cleared his throat.

“You’re making a stupid face,” I said. “Focus on the road.”

“So. Kind of obvious that you got a little help in the goddess department.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, kind of obvious. It was important, though. We needed all the help we could get. I just hope I know what I’m doing.”

His hand reached over from the gearshift, like he was about to pat me on the thigh, but he rapped his knuckles against the dashboard instead.

“I think you know what you’re doing. And by the way, how you copied Loki’s spells — that was pretty hot. Cool! I mean, pretty cool.”

“Hah, cool, yeah,” I said, staring dead ahead of me, unembarrassed about how I was blushing bright red because I knew for sure that Morrow was blushing even brighter.

It was Pop Diva Night at Club Debussy, which I always found a little funny, because wasn’t it always Pop Diva Night at a gay bar? Each of the performers had dressed as a different pop icon: Anna Phylactic as Britney Spears, Effie Penn as Lady Gaga, and Xtra Xtra as Olivia Rodrigo.

We found Houston and Angelica at a booth by the stage. I almost fell over when I saw that she was wearing just a plain white tank top and faded jeans. Still gorgeous, of course, but holy shit. She gave an embarrassed shrug.

“It’s my day off, okay? I can’t be gussied up twenty-four seven.”

Houston restrained a chuckle, but who was he kidding? He was wearing pretty much the same outfit, the pair of them like models out of a ’90s Calvin Klein ad.

Xtra Xtra swept out of the dressing room and posed by the table arms akimbo, Xavi Ximenez as Xtra Xtra as Olivia Rodrigo as Wonder Woman. Houston stood to peck her on the cheek, but she held him at arm’s length.

“I worked way too hard on this makeup, baby,” she said. “Once the night is over, we can suck face all you want. Hell, I’ll suck even more than just your face, but you already knew that.”

Houston grinned at me and waggled his eyebrows. I frowned, then frowned harder when his eyes darted toward Morrow.

“See you guys later,” Xtra Xtra said. “My number’s coming up.”

She shot me and Morrow a wink before heading for the stage. If I frowned any harder, my face was going to cave in on itself.

We ordered drinks, and — typical corpo employees — within five minutes we’d already devolved into work-related conversation. But again, as people with no nine-to-fives, this was the closest to water cooler talk as we’d ever get.

And then ten minutes after that, the pretense of ordering professional-presenting drinks like martinis and whiskeys quickly devolved into enjoying the prettiest, fruitiest cocktails available at Club Debussy. My nice, frothy piña colada was delicious. Houston lovingly admired the layers of his Tequila sunrise. Xtra Xtra joined us right after her number, strutting over with a ridiculously oversized frozen strawberry daiquiri.

Yes, we were putting Yoanna Hangover through the wringer, but she looked pretty happy about it. Excited, even, a talented bartender and a proud artisan, just like the guild members of the Black Market. And just like Anita Cocktail, for that matter, who was presumably still on vacation, baking under the Caribbean sun.

“All I’m saying is that the goddess is somewhere out there plotting something awful.” Droplets of Angelica’s lime margarita splashed the tabletop as she gesticulated. “You know who I mean. The nasty one with all the hair.”

She swiped her finger across the rim of her glass, pinching a bit of wet salt and flicking it over her shoulder. Everyone at the table had carefully avoided mentioning Paralumen’s name. It was a silly superstition at this point, except experience had shown us that speaking it out loud tended to bring the world crashing down around us.

“And what I’m saying,” Xtra Xtra said, “is that it’s entirely possible that she’s still hounding Loki, too. To suck out whatever she didn’t get to suck out of him the first time.” She paused to take a sip of her giant drink. “Or like sucking the brains out of a prawn head. Or like sucking a guy off until he — ”

“We get the point,” I said. “I’m just hoping that Loki has actually turned tail and fled. No way he’s staying in Nomicon Valley after all this. If he’s smart, he’ll be in another country hiding out in a different, more heavily fortified Happy, Inc. building. Or maybe one of his stupid pocket dimensions.”

“My concern is how the balance of power has changed between them,” Morrow said. He reached for a shot of vodka, lining it up beside his rum and coke and a half-empty glass of Long Island iced tea.

Wait. How many drinks deep was this boy again? He seemed to be holding his liquor just fine, except for a little extra redness around the cheeks. Rosy, adorable, annoying.

He held up the Long Island. “Think about it this way. This is Loki. This is how much power he had.” He picked up the shot glass. “And this is what’s-her-face. Or this used to be her, before she siphoned his power.”

I watched in horror as Morrow tipped the shot into his rum and coke, then poured some of the Long Island into the same glass. Houston winced at Morrow’s nightmare concoction.

“But now they’re both this size,” Morrow said. “You get what I’m saying? The small glass stole some power from the large one. And now we have two mediums. A weaker old god, and a stronger new god. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

I detested the question, as if my brain hadn’t been injured enough. The others stayed silent as well, assessing, undecided. Morrow shrugged when he realized he wasn’t going to get an answer.

“I know, right?” he said. “Same.”