Dogs and Goddesses

by Jennifer Crusie

  Noah didn’t seem to hear her, just stared down into his coffee mug for a moment before saying, “You know, I have an appointment that I need to get to soon.”

  “An appointment?” Daisy said. “On a Saturday?”

  “Life of a freelancer.” He looked around. “Want me to help you put this place back together before I go?”

  Daisy looked at the living room and shook her head. “That’s okay.”

  He got up, walked around the island to her, and kissed her, slow and deep, then pulled away as if checking for more wind. This time, it was barely a breeze.

  You want wind, Daisy thought, you’re gonna have to put some shoulder into it.

  Noah looked back at her and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m gonna go find my shirt. Should be in the bedroom somewhere.”

  “Okay.” She stepped back and watched him go back into her bedroom, the sleek muscles of his back working under his skin, and she remembered her hands on that skin the night before, her lips tasting him as his hands—

  A gentle breeze shifted through the apartment, fluttering the reminder notes tacked up on the corkboard by her front door.

  She looked down at Bailey. “Well, this is ridiculous. This can’t happen every time; it’s not … ,” and she trailed off as her eye caught her magic clicky pen sticking out of the pen cup. Inspiration struck, and she grabbed it.

  “Let’s test a theory,” she said to Bailey as he followed her to the open window. She looked out of the window and saw the timid girl still trying to hand out those brochures. Daisy closed her eyes and concentrated on the energy she had pooling at her base. She almost felt like she could see it, glowing bright orange, the fire within to act, to do, to—

  She opened her eyes, focused on the girl, and clicked her pen, directing all her energy at her. A wind blew around the girl, tousling her hair, and she looked around, seeming confused.

  “Huh,” Daisy said, looking down at the pen, which felt kind of hot in her hand, but that could have been her imagination.

  “Hey!” the girl yelled.

  Daisy’s heart banged in her chest, thinking she’d been caught—messing with magic, bad idea, should have thought this through—but then she looked out to see the girl climb up on the squat stone retaining wall that held up the lawn around the psych building, looking intently at the people passing by.

  “Hey!” the girl yelled again, and people around her stopped and stared. She held up her brochures, waving them over her head. Daisy could see her chest rising with every breath from all the way across the street. “This is important!”

  “Oh, that’s so cool,” Daisy whispered, shifting to make room for Bailey as he poked his head out to watch, too. She put her hand on his back to keep him safe, petting him as they watched the girl demand the attention she needed.

  “This is information about women’s safety on campus!” she yelled, handing out brochures as people came up to her. “Make sure you give one to every woman you know! You could be the difference!”

  The flower vendor woman walked over, got one, and headed back, reading it as she did.

  Daisy looked at Bailey and smiled. “Dig us,” she said, and Bailey licked her face. “We’re good doers.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Daisy turned her head around to see Noah watching her, looking concerned.

  “Nothing.” She tucked the pen into the window seat cushion and stood up. “You found your shirt.”

  Noah glanced down at his rumpled T-shirt. “Yeah. It was hanging on the shower rod.” He looked back at her. “We were in the bathroom?”

  “Guess so.” Daisy walked over to him, Bailey close on her heels. “So, you really have to go?”

  He pulled her to him. “Yeah, I really think I do.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’d like to take you out for dinner tonight, though, if you’re free.”

  Daisy wrapped her arms around his waist, let her head rest on his chest for two heartbeats, then pulled back and smiled up at him. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Then, maybe we can come back up here and talk a bit,” he said.

  She pressed herself tighter against him. “Or, we can come back here and not talk.”

  “Lady’s choice.” He kissed her slowly, the heat building between them until finally he broke it off with a breathless, “Appointment.”

  “Appointment,” Daisy said, taking a step back. “Right.”

  He hesitated for a moment, then left, and Daisy leaned back against the wall, her entire body full of energy, and the breezes started to swirl in her apartment.…

  She ran to the window seat, grabbed the clicky pen out of the cushion, and closed her eyes, concentrating the energy, but unable to focus on where she needed it to go, her thoughts on Noah and how his touch made her feel, and the winds started picking up. If she didn’t send the energy somewhere—

  She opened her eyes, saw a man looking at the flowers in the cart, and clicked her pen. The wind swirled around the man, and he glanced around, then started picking bundles of flowers off the cart while the flower vendor smiled.

  Daisy looked behind her at Bailey, who jumped in the air. “It’s not saving the world from a fiery apocalypse, but small things matter, too, right?”

  “Right!” Bailey barked. “Treat!”

  “Yes,” Daisy said. “In a second.”

  She turned back around to look out the window at the man buying flowers, but when she did, she saw Noah standing in the middle of the street, staring up at her.

  “Uh-oh,” she said to Bailey. “You don’t think he saw, do you?”

  “Uh-oh!” Bailey barked.

  Then a horn honked and she jumped; a guy in a pickup truck had almost hit Noah.

  Noah stepped out of the way, but the guy rolled down his window and yelled, “Watch where you’re going, asshole!” as he moved on toward the intersection.

  “Excuse me?” A red-hot anger ran through Daisy, and this time the wind was warm and sharp. Without thinking, she looked at Mr. Casey and his hose and clicked her pen. Mr. Casey’s arms jolted to the left, dousing the guy through his open window.

  “Jesus!” the guy yelled, and Mr. Casey said, “Sorry!” and the light changed and the guy drove through, cursing.

  “Serves you right, dickhead,” she muttered as the guy laid on his horn; then she turned around and sat down on the window seat, her heart beating furiously in her chest, excitement and exhilaration running through her.

  “I never thought I’d say this, Bail,” Daisy said, leaning forward and patting him on the head as a giggle erupted from within her, “but I think I’m gonna like being a goddess.”

  TEN

  Kammani stood before her altar and considered her underlings.

  Mina, clicking on her computer on the steps below, was a Wortham, and the Worthams’ belief was passionate and strong, and therefore essential. Bun’s and Gen’s belief was not passionate, but they were young and easily controlled, and two of her original seven, and therefore essential.

  But Doug … A long and energetic night with him had convinced Kammani that while he was a fine example of this new world’s manhood, he was going to make a lousy sacrifice. For one thing, he had no tolerance for pain. Which meant she was going to have to get Samu back. And the Three. And find the missing Vera and—

  The doors opened and Kammani turned, her head high.

  Noah strode toward her, frowning. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “How dare you question the goddess?” Mina said, outraged.

  Noah stopped at the foot of the altar. “Something’s going on here, and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

  “I am the goddess,” Kammani said coldly. “I am here to rule this world.”

  “I don’t want to hear that crap,” Noah said. “What was in that drink you served the class?”

  “The tonic?” Kammani laughed. “Honey. Cinnamon. Anise. And a very old wine from my country.” She fixed him with her eyes. “But you presume. Your tone—”
>
  “Wine.” Noah took a step closer. “You told me there was nothing alcoholic in it. I told her there was nothing in it. Have you seen her size? What if she had been driving?”

  Ah, Kammani thought. Daisy.

  Mina stood. “You go too far. The goddess is not here to answer your questions; you are here to serve her.”

  Noah looked at her as if she were insane. “I don’t serve her; I work for her. And that’s over if she’s hurting these women.” He looked at Kammani again. “You deliberately chose those seven. I saw the list. Why—?”

  “They’re the youngest women of age from the Seven Families,” Kammani said. “They were chosen long before they were born.”

  Noah narrowed his eyes. “Tell me what you’re doing with them or I’m out.”

  “You overreach.” Kammani frowned down on him. “You have been a good servant and worked hard, and I have been lenient, but you go too far. GO.”

  Noah took a step back, seeming almost surprised as he did. Then he lifted his insolent eyes to Kammani’s. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, and I don’t really care. But if you hurt her, I swear to God—”

  Kammani shook her head at him, impatient. “Noah, of all my people, I love best the Seven, and of the Seven, I love best the Three.” Mina whimpered as Kammani added, “No harm will come to Daisy.”

  Noah hesitated, then seemed to relax a bit. “Fine. I’m telling Daisy what I know, though.”

  Kammani looked at him, exasperated. She could just blast him where he stood or turn him into a dog, which would at least make him faithful and obedient, but she needed him. And he loved Daisy. He would follow Daisy when she came again, and he would serve his goddess with her.

  Mina stepped forward. “You can’t tell her; you’ll spoil the surprise. Look.” She took a poster from the stack at her feet and let it unroll in front of her so he could see it.

  “ ‘Youth, Health, and Wealth’?” Noah said, looking skeptical.

  “It’s Kammani’s self-help group,” Mina said. “We’re going to meet twice a week to improve ourselves—”

  The secret door in the back wall opened, and Doug came out, yawning.

  “Hey, Noah,” he said, still bleary-eyed, and then he caught sight of Kammani. “Hey, babe, gotta run.” He walked up the altar steps, kissed her on the mouth, swatted her on the rear end, and then headed for the door.

  It took everything Kammani had not to obliterate him on the spot, and she only managed it because it would be disastrous to do it in front of Noah. Besides, from the look on Mina’s face, something bad would happen to Doug shortly. With luck, not fatally bad, but at the moment Kammani didn’t really care as long as he paid.

  “Wow,” Noah said, amusement pushing the anger out of his eyes. “You’re really serious about this Seven Families thing, huh?”

  I don’t need you that much, Kammani thought, and then realized that Doug had done her a favor: Noah no longer saw her as a threat.

  “It’s just a women’s group,” Mina said to Noah. “We’re going to talk about diets and investing and skin care. You know. Women’s stuff.”

  Noah looked at her for a moment and then relaxed. “Okay.” He looked up at Kammani. “I’m sorry I busted in here like that. I didn’t get much sleep. I think I saw something that wasn’t there.” He shook his head, handed the poster back to her. “I’m not going to lie to her, but I won’t spoil your party, either. Just … don’t give her anything to drink without telling her what’s in it, okay?”

  Mina nodded.

  “I’ll see you Tuesday,” Noah said, and left.

  When he was gone, Kammani looked at Mina. “That was very well done. Good, Mina.”

  Mina flushed with pleasure. “He is easy to fool. He does not believe.”

  “And you restrained yourself well with Doug,” Kammani went on. “You are showing much wisdom, Mina.”

  Mina lifted her chin, smiling as if the sun were shining on her. “My mother was wrong; I am good enough to serve you, O my goddess. Which reminds me, I have seen the robes of ceremony.”

  “They are very beautiful still,” Kammani said, waiting for Mina’s praise.

  “But maybe not for the Goddess Way,” Mina said carefully. “We don’t want to scare people off.”

  “Scare people?” Kammani said, annoyed.

  “You should wear a business suit. I saw a black Jones of New York on clearance at T.J. Maxx that—”

  “I don’t understand,” Kammani said.

  “The robes and the headdress thing will freak people out,” Mina said. “You need to be less Joan Crawford, more Oprah Winfrey.”

  “I will wear my robes,” Kammani said, and Mina nodded obediently, so Kammani took pity on her. “You are a good and loyal priestess, Mina. You may punish Doug as you see fit. Short of death.”

  “Thank you!” Mina’s face lit up. “I will punish him with the death of others, my goddess. He will live but wish to die.”

  “Just things,” Kammani said hastily. “No dead dogs. Or people. Kill things, not people.”

  “Yes, my goddess,” Mina said, looking up at her with delight in her eyes. “Only as you command.”

  “Good girl, Mina,” Kammani said, refraining from patting her on the head.

  “As good as the Three?” Mina said, more pleading than insubordinate.

  “Of course,” Kammani lied, and returned to her room behind the secret door.

  This world was indeed different, she thought as she looked at her ceremonial robes. But not so different that it wouldn’t recognize a goddess dressed in gold. This world will be mine, she thought, and things will be as they once were.

  But for the moment, she was hungry. She went to get a strawberry yogurt from the minifridge Mina’s mother had brought her.

  When the revolution came, they’d be keeping refrigeration.

  Abby wasn’t sure whether she should blame her rotten night of sleep on her unsettling conversation with Kammani or the fact that her air bed had decided to give up the ghost. She didn’t fall asleep until four in the morning and when she woke up, with just a thin layer of rubber between her and the hardwood floor, every bone in her body ached.

  Hell, if she was going to be a demi-goddess she was at least going to be comfortable. Especially if she was going to spend the day baking fresh goodies, which she had every intention of doing.

  Amanda Richmond, the Real Estate Goddess of Escondido, was easy enough to reach—she slept with her cell phone on her pillow—and it took less than five minutes to get a decent amount of money deposited in Abby’s bank account. Her life would have been a lot simpler if she’d given in and simply written Professor Christopher Mackenzie a check for what Granny B had owed him, but that would have involved going to her mother, something Abby hated to do.

  But here she was, doing it anyway. Maybe it was meant to be.

  For some reason her mother’s all-too-practical suggestions didn’t bother her that morning, any more than the questions about her weight and her love life and when she was going back to school. After all, she was the demi-goddess in the family—she no longer had to worry about pleasing her impossible-to-please mother. Even her refusal to discuss Bea was par for the course.

  Besides, Amanda Richmond was a master at denial. All Abby had to do was say, “A funny thing happened to me in the ancient history building on campus,” and Amanda had another call. Which came as no surprise—Amanda had never wanted to talk about the tiny Ohio town she’d come from any more than she wanted to discuss her colorful mother. Amanda’s aversion seemed normal—now Abby was wondering exactly how much her mother knew about the family tradition.

  Abby was back at the coffeehouse before noon. No sign of Daisy to give her a hand, which was probably just as well considering what kinds of things happened when Daisy set her mind to it. Besides, the bed wasn’t that heavy; it was just bulky. She’d hauled bigger things by herself.

  She’d chosen a full-size, pillow-topped piece of luxury that was guaranteed
to cradle her like a bed of clouds. Fortunately, the box spring was lightweight, and she somehow managed to get it up the narrow stairs in the kitchen without knocking over anything but the new bottle of Kammani-punch. Unfortunately, it didn’t break, but it rolled under the counter, where Abby intended to forget about it.

  “Hey, watch it,” Bowser growled when she sideswiped his head.

  “Sorry!” By the time she got the foundation seated on the bed frame she was exhausted. Bowser plopped himself in the corner of her bedroom, well out of her way, and stayed put while Abby hauled the big, heavy mattress off the roof of her station wagon and partway up the stairs.

  Where she immediately got stuck. Mattresses were supposed to be flexible, but this one was proving to be incredibly stubborn. It wedged itself in the opening at the top of the narrow stairs, and Abby was trapped halfway down, her exit shut off by the rest of it. She was standing there, unable to move, when she heard a noise in the kitchen and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Daisy!” she called out. “Come and give me a hand with this thing. I’m trapped on the staircase.”

  A moment later the mattress moved, shoved forward, pushing past the doorway so quickly that Abby fell forward on the staircase, sprawling awkwardly.

  “Thanks,” she said, rolling over on her back. “I didn’t know you were that strong.”

  “Strong enough,” Christopher Mackenzie said, and Abby wasn’t able to bite back her groan. “What in the world possessed you to try to move something like that on your own?”

  Damned punch. Or damned cookies, or damned demi-goddess/semi-goddess. Whatever it was that was affecting her was making her life completely miserable. He was too damned good-looking, and today he was dressed in old jeans and a T-shirt. Even better.

  He was also socially retarded, according to Daisy.

  “I’m used to taking care of myself,” Abby said. “Why are you here?”

  “I came to apologize for yesterday.”

  “For what? For kissing me or for being an asshole?” Shit, why had she even brought that up?