Dogs and Goddesses

by Jennifer Crusie

  That she could wrap her mind around.

  “Okay,” Noah said. “I’ve got a new song, and you’re the first to hear it, so … lucky you.” The crowd gave an encouraging cheer, and Noah met Daisy’s eye and smiled. “Hopefully, you’ll like it. But if you don’t, don’t throw anything, okay? Abby’s gotta clean up after you guys.”

  There was a light laugh from the crowd, and Noah’s focus locked onto the guitar as he started to play, picking out a gentle bluesy tune, one foot tapping the floor in time to the rhythm, his fingers working the strings like—

  Whoa. Daisy felt a sudden warmth come over her, and a slow breeze tickled at her bare arms. Someone must have come in the front door, but she couldn’t pull her eyes off Noah, who leaned into the microphone and sang, his voice somehow soft and rough and worn, all at the same time.

  “The winds of summer, they flew out from her

  They curled around, pulled me down, but what the hell?

  A pretty girl and a whirl of color

  She was sauced; I was lost; it was just as well… .”

  Daisy laughed. Noah’s eyes met hers, and she felt a shock wave go through her, killing the laughter. She heard a woman say, “Oh!” somewhere in the coffeehouse, but Daisy had no interest in anything but Noah, his strong arms holding the guitar, his lips looking so soft as they hovered over the microphone, his voice seeming to touch her skin as he sang.

  “Give it a try; there’s no good reason why

  But why not gets you more, and more is better… .”

  “Oh, hey,” Daisy said as the breeze picked up the edges of her skirt a little, as if it were Noah’s hands shifting her skirt aside, running up the insides of her thighs—

  “Frederick!”

  Daisy released a breath and glanced over at the door, where Frederick and his elbow patches were dragging a giggling Lucille out of the coffeehouse in a flurry of napkins picked up by the breeze they’d let in. Once outside, he grabbed her and kissed her neck, throwing her up against the glass storefront.

  “Yikes,” Daisy said under her breath, her heart rate picking up as a feeling of joy and recklessness came over her. She noticed in the back of her mind that some napkins were still flying, even though the door had shut, but her focus was locked on Noah, who looked at her, his eyes smiling as he continued to sing.

  I want you, she thought, and he sang, “If you want me, take me; don’t make me wait… .”

  Daisy got off the stool at the counter and started toward Noah, who stopped singing and put down his guitar. The sudden absence of the music was almost jarring, and Daisy caught motion in the coffeehouse out of the corner of her eye, flurries of activity and the sounds of heightened voices, napkins swirling in the air on a breeze that seemed to come out of nowhere….

  Oh, who cares? she thought, and moved toward Noah, but Shar grabbed her arm and whispered, “Stop clicking that damn pen!”

  Daisy blinked and put her hands up. “I don’t have the pen. It’s upstairs. I left it up there when I went to go change.”

  Shar’s eyes widened, Daisy turned to see two people tugging at a chair as if it were a case of money; she pulled Shar out of the way just as they lost their grip and the chair flew past them, banging against the counter and falling to the floor.

  “Oh.” Daisy shook her head. “I swear, Shar, I didn’t—” A girl at one of the front tables said, “Screw the diet, I have to have some of those cookies,” and got up and rushed Abby, her two friends following her. Abby stood in the middle of it all holding her tray up above her head as the girls mobbed her, grabbing for cookies, and then the door opened again, and a fresh swirl of wind rushed through the place and there were napkins flying everywhere, people grabbing for things….

  “Crap,” Daisy said, pointing at the melee. “I didn’t … Did I do that?”

  “You don’t need the pen,” Shar said, pulling her toward the kitchen door. “That was just how you focused it. You must have the power within you.” She hustled Daisy through the French doors and into the kitchen and then out into the courtyard. “Stay here until we get this under control,” she said, and went back inside, leaving Daisy alone in the brick-walled courtyard with its doghouses, stone benches, and tangled weeds.

  Daisy leaned against the wall, her heart beating so hard in her chest, she thought it might explode. She breathed deep, taking in the cool night air, staring up at the stars in the sky, wondering what the hell was happening to her. This was insane. All that chaos couldn’t be from her. She didn’t do anything. All she did was get a little hot and bothered over—

  Noah.

  She closed her eyes and felt it again, a deep want pulsating within her, and then she imagined him there, with her, his hands on her skin and—

  A wind blew, throwing the doors open again, and the chaos coming from inside got louder. Daisy pushed them fully shut, then walked over to the stone bench, sitting on its cool, hard surface, gripping her hands around the edge.

  Okay. Maybe stop thinking about Noah. She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. Ducks. Think about ducks. Ducks aren’t sexy.

  Unless they’re wading in a lake where Noah and I are having a picnic on a nice, soft blanket and then he reaches over and touches my—

  “Daisy?”

  Daisy shifted around and there he was, standing in the doorway. His hair was sticking out on one side and his T-shirt was pulled a bit at his neckline, as though he’d had to fight someone to get out there—probably Shar—but he looked amazing, his eyes burning, his skin seeming to give off waves of heat Daisy could feel even through the space between them. They stood motionless, staring at each other, and she felt confused and conflicted and dangerous. She knew she should ask him to go until she figured out what was going on, but the plain fact of it was, she didn’t want him to leave.

  He closed the doors behind him, lowered his head, and took a deep breath, then looked at her again. Daisy sat where she was, gripping the cool stone, trying to keep her head. She couldn’t ask him to go away, and she wouldn’t be able to resist him if he touched her, but maybe if they just didn’t move, maybe things wouldn’t get out of hand, maybe she could control …

  “Daisy.”

  His voice had less question in it this time, and she raised her eyes to his. This doesn’t happen to me, she thought. I don’t understand this. But she knew what she wanted, and she wanted him, more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life.

  Screw understanding. I’m a goddess.

  She pushed herself up from the bench. A warm breeze swirled around them, the feel of it on her skin wearing down the last of Daisy’s reservations. She rushed toward him, and he met her halfway. He grabbed her, his hands on her hips, pulling her to him, his lips meeting hers with desperate force as she pushed herself against him, throwing her arms around his neck. He lifted her up with so little effort it felt almost like flying, and she wrapped her legs around his hips and let herself go, not caring about how it seemed or what it meant. She knew it was right, knew it in a place so deep inside her she couldn’t name it, and it felt so good, so good, not to have to think or fight or control anything.

  He brought her back to the bench, sitting down with her straddling him, his hands moving over her, running under her shirt, over her legs as the breeze picked up around them. He kissed her mouth and worked his lips down the line of her jaw, to her neck, her collarbone….

  I am a goddess, she thought, looking up at the stars as one of Noah’s hands settled on the small of her back while the other slid over the inside of her thigh. Oh, yeah. She looked back down at him, her hands locked at the back of his neck, her eyes on his as he slid one long finger into her, then the next, his thumb working slowly outside, making her feel wild and reckless. She leaned against him, allowing herself to feel everything, to worry about nothing. He moved inside her, his fingers reaching deep, the pressure building. The wind blew around them, picking up pieces of mown grass and random flower petals, the cool of it hitting her hot skin and making
her feel like she wasn’t tiny anymore, like she had mass, like she didn’t have to hold on so tightly …

  Like she could let go.

  She pulled herself up, pressing herself down over his hand as she tasted the skin on his neck. His fingers moved to their own primal rhythm, and the energy pooled within her as the wind whirled around them, smelling of cinnamon and heat and summer.

  I am a goddess. She reached down and touched him, and even through his jeans she could feel that he was right where she was. She leaned forward, her entire body pulsing with need for him, and whispered in his ear, “Please tell me you have something.”

  He reached into his back pocket and held up a condom, and she grabbed it from him and ripped it open. He laughed, then pulled her in for another kiss, and everything else in the world seemed to fade around them. She unbuttoned his jeans and he took in his breath as she took him in her hands and slid the condom over him.

  “Oh, god,” he whispered, and she slid him inside of her, pushing herself against him, enjoying the low growl that came from him as she moved over him. I am a goddess. He pulled her to him and put his lips to her collarbone, his arms tight around her, holding her to him as they moved together, the movements starting small and building up, the heat and need twining tightly in her core as his lips and tongue moved over her skin, his hand teasing her breast until she tightened under him, around him, and the moment was here; it was hers; all she had to do was let it happen, let herself—

  I am a goddess!

  She opened her eyes as she came, and stars seemed to blow out in the sky, like fireworks exploding and falling down to earth. Noah called out her name, and the feel of him letting go inside of her excited her again. He held her tight as her body shuddered over him, and she allowed herself to release control, trusting him to not let her fall as she gave in. After a moment, she put her hands around his neck and kissed him with everything she had, tasting him again. Finally, she pulled back and looked at him, both of them flushed and smiling.

  “Hey there,” he said, his breath heavy.

  “Hey yourself,” she said.

  “That was … ,” he said, his eyes atypically soft as he looked at her. “I can’t even think what that was.”

  He pulled her to him and kissed her, his hands in her hair, cupping her head, making her feel amazing and worshiped and giddy in the moment. When he pulled back, his eyes were sharp again, and the crooked smile graced his face as his eyes focused on her lips.

  “Daisy,” he said, his voice low as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Not to brag, but I think we did that really well.”

  “Yeah,” she said, locking her hands at the back of his neck, “I think we did.” She leaned in and kissed him. “If you want, we could sneak up the back stairs to my apartment and give it another go, see if we’re as good as we think we are.”

  “I’m game.” He reached up and plucked a blade of grass from her hair, his expression growing more serious as he looked at her. “Daisy … you are …”

  A goddess, she thought. Then she got up, took his hand, and led him upstairs to her bed.

  Kammani watched as Mina rolled up the last of the posters she’d had printed at something called Kinko’s that afternoon, although it didn’t sound like a place of printing. “My family will hang these all over town, my goddess,” Mina said, putting the poster with the rest on the altar. “The posters will bring the worshipers in, and soon you will be famous, you’ll be on TV, and magazines will write about you.”

  Kammani looked again at the magazine with the celebri-baby draped in diamonds on the cover and thought, It was a hell of a lot easier when they just came to the temple and prayed. “Very well, we will start with this losing weight and making money,” she told Mina. “But then we will bring them to the True Way of the Goddess.” My way or the highway. That was another phrase from the air, but Kammani liked it. She wasn’t sure what the highway was, but she was positive it involved plagues and curses and probably screaming in the streets. At least her highway did.

  “Yeah, good luck on that,” Mina said, and when Kammani frowned, she added, “O Great One. But I must tell you of the Three.”

  “Yes?” Kammani said, well aware Mina was changing the subject for self-preservation. That was a good sign. It meant Mina realized now when she was pushing her luck.

  “They have become friends since last night at the class,” Mina said.

  “Good,” Kammani said.

  “And tonight they opened the coffee shop again. Together.”

  “Coffee shop?”

  Mina came closer. “A place where people come to drink coffee and hear music. A kind of … temple.”

  “Temple?” Kammani said, stiffening, but then the doors to the hallway opened and Samu-la-el came in, tall and strong and beautiful, the greatest sacrifice she’d ever had.

  The bastard.

  “You’re late,” she said, and then took in how informal his clothing was, how unsubservient he was before her. This world, she thought. “Where have you been? It has been a day since I raised you.”

  “It’s been four thousand years,” Samu said, and Kammani straightened at the tone in his voice.

  “HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN WHO I AM?”

  “NO,” he said. “The temple is broken. I rose where I always rise. You weren’t there.”

  “So it took you twenty-four hours to find me?” Kammani said, and then thought, I sound like a jealous wife, not a goddess. “AN ENTIRE DAY TO FIND ME?”

  “It was a long day.” Samu nodded to Mina. “Munawirtum.”

  Mina bowed. “Samu-la-el. I live to serve you.”

  Someone said, “Terrific,” and Kammani frowned at Samu.

  Samu pointed to the dog at his feet, and Kammani recognized Sharrat’s small long-haired dachshund.

  “Wolfie,” she said sternly.

  Wolfie edged back behind Samu, his tail between his legs, “Sorry.”

  “It is good you are here,” Mina said to Samu, her dark eyes gleaming. “We have plans.” She unrolled the poster, and Kammani saw again the portrait of a dark-haired woman who looked vaguely like her, dressed in red, holding some kind of gold snake.

  “Who is that?” Samu said, frowning.

  “It’s a Klimt painting,” Mina said. “College kids love Klimt, and they’ll be our first worshipers.”

  Kammani read the bottom of the poster again: Come join the goddess Kami in THE GODDESS WAY and find the Goddess Within You! Youth! Beauty! Wealth! and HAPPINESS! And then below that in much smaller letters: 7 P.M. WEDNESDAYS AND FRIDAYS IN THE SUMMERVILLE COLLEGE HISTORY BUILDING AUDITORIUM.

  “‘Kami’?” Samu said to Mina.

  “It’s catchier,” Mina said, rolling the poster up again. “We just need to get them in here. Then we’ll go back to the old ways.”

  Samu frowned at Kammani. “Youth? Beauty?”

  “It’s a new approach to our divinity,” Kammani said, seeing her own distaste reflected in his eyes. “When they come to the temple, they will learn the True Way of the Goddess.”

  Samu shook his head. “They will come, but they won’t stay. I have been among them. It is different here.”

  “Which you know after one day?” Mina said, scorn in her voice.

  “YES,” Samu said, and Mina stepped back. “I have spent the time talking with many people,” he told Kammani. “They are not like we are.”

  “Duh,” Mina said, and from behind Samu, Wolfie said, “Don’t say ‘duh’ to a god.”

  Mina glared at him, and Wolfie shrank back again, and Mort panted, Heh, heh, heh.

  “The people will be as they were,” Kammani said. “We will remind them of the way.”

  Samu stayed silent, but the look in his eyes told her what he thought of that, and Kammani was about to reprimand him when she realized that, even in the ridiculous clothes of this world, Samu looked very good.

  “Leave us,” she said to Mina.

  Mina said, “But—”

  “GO,” Kammani said, and Mi
na went, taking Mort with her, the two of them looking stormy and strange as they went into the hall.

  “Ha,” Wolfie barked after them.

  Kammani came down the steps from the altar. “It has been many nights since we were together, Samu-la-el, and my couch is still behind the hidden door.” She put her hand on his chest and then noticed the embroidery over the pocket. “Dick?”

  “I am very tired.” Samu took her hand off his chest. “And in this world, I am Sam. Samu is not a name here.” He looked at the poster again. “Kami.”

  “You’ve been here one day,” she snapped, wanting to obliterate him. “How do you know what—”

  “A good king learns the world he will govern. I spent much time with the people of Kamesh before I became king. It made me a good king. It is smart to do the same thing in this world.” He looked around the temple. “Have you even left this place? Have you gone out and talked to the people?”

  The impatience in his voice made her step back. “Yes. I have talked with Miriam, granddaughter to Munawirtum. And I have drawn my priestesses to me. I need no more.”

  “No,” Samu said with obvious patience. “Have you talked to the people?”

  “They will come to me,” Kammani said, glaring at him. “I do not—”

  “And when they come to you, how will you talk to them?” Samu said. “If you don’t go out among them, how can you know them?”

  “I did not go out among them before,” Kammani snapped.

  “And you fell,” Samu said. “We’ve been gone four thousand years.”

  “That was not my fault,” Kammani said, wishing him dead. “I tried my best, but Ishtar, my own sister, betrayed me and banished me to endless sleep and destroyed my temple—” She stopped, hearing the whine in her voice.

  “Then how did your temple come to be here?” Samu said, his dark eyes sharp on her. “How could she vanquish you? Where was your power? What happened to my people while I was dead?”