Dogs and Goddesses

by Jennifer Crusie

  But a last moment of honesty stopped her, and she put her hands on his narrow hips, running her fingers across the silken skin. “I’ve never done this before,” she managed to say.

  She wasn’t sure what she expected. Sweetness. Tenderness. “Everyone gives in to irrational lust at least once in their life,” he said. And he pushed inside her with a muffled groan of pleasure.

  She was expecting pain, blood, but there was nothing but a sharp twinge. She couldn’t keep back the small cry of pain as he pushed deep inside her, but then it was suddenly wonderful, and for the first time in her life she felt complete.

  He was frozen, not moving, and she couldn’t see his expression in the shadows. She didn’t need to. He was looking down at her, but she kept her eyes closed, and he must have guessed what she’d tried to tell him.

  It didn’t matter. He’d eaten the cookies and he’d come to her. Whether he knew it or not, they belonged together, and this would only make it clearer to him. But she needed more, not this sudden, almost unearthly stillness.

  “No.” The protest was low in his throat, and she felt him start to pull away from her.

  “Yes,” she said, her fingers digging in, pulling him back, desperate not to lose him. They weren’t finished; he wasn’t finished.

  And then his last reserve vanished, and he reached down, pulling her legs around him, so that he was deeper still, and he closed his eyes, the thick slide of his cock inside her sending sparks through her body, and she realized she wasn’t finished, either.

  She was covered with sweat and so was he, their bodies slapping against each other, and each deep thrust shook her, shook the bed, shook her soul. He put his hand between their bodies to touch her, hard, and she looked into his eyes for a frozen moment, into eyes dark with passion and pain and need, and she wanted to tell him something, anything to drive the pain away, but it was too late; he touched her and she splintered, her body dissolving, and she heard his muffled groan as he went rigid in her arms.

  She expected him to collapse against her, to draw her into his arms. She wanted to hold him until the tremors passed, but instead he pulled away, rolling off her, beside her, and she heard him trying to catch his breath as the last stray shudders danced through her body.

  “This is wrong,” he said in a flat voice. “This is all wrong.”

  She said nothing, unmoving.

  “We need to talk,” he said. She waited for him to touch her, to hold her, but a moment later he was out of the bed, leaving her alone there as he vanished into the shadows. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

  She curled up for a long moment, wrapping the discarded sheet around her, hugging herself. It was hardly hearts and flowers. Irrational lust, he’d said, misunderstanding her tentative confession. She’d been an idiot, and he’d treated her like one. And the best thing she could do was slink away and try to forget it ever happened. She wasn’t going to wait for him; she wasn’t going to talk to him. She was going to run like hell.

  Goddamned cookies. Goddamned Mesopotamia and demi-goddesses. She should never have come here in the first place—someone could have sold the coffeehouse for her. Her mother had connections all over the world, but no, she had to drive to southern goddamned Ohio and fall in love with a goddamned math professor and make a fool of herself.

  She scrambled out of the bed, looking for her scattered clothes, pulling them on as quickly as she could. There was a bloodstain on the sheet, and she was half-tempted to drag it off the bed so he wouldn’t notice, but she couldn’t afford to take the time. She could only find one sandal, and she heard him coming back, through the dark, musty hallways, and she ran.

  Bowser was already on his feet, waiting for her, and he looked concerned. “Abby okay?”

  “Fine,” she said. “Let’s go home.” She took off at something close to a sprint, her one sandal tucked beneath her arm. She thought she heard the front door open behind her, but she was far enough away that he couldn’t come after her, couldn’t call her. Not that he would.

  Goddamn it. She brushed the tears from her face, determined that no one see them.

  “Are you sad?” Bowser said.

  “I’m a freaking idiot,” she said, moving back across the green. Bun and Gen were just packing up, a new layer of toasted skin covering their ripe bodies.

  “Hey, Abs!” Gen called out to her, but Abby ducked her head down. She couldn’t let them see her crying. She couldn’t let anyone see her crying.

  “See you tonight!” she called back briskly, determined not to slow down.

  The moment they were out of sight, she sped up, Bowser keeping pace with her as she turned onto Temple Street. The coffeehouse lay ahead, and there was just a small ounce of comfort to fight the chill that had taken over her body. Daisy would be there. Shar would be there. She wasn’t alone.

  And she broke into a run.

  TWELVE

  At five-thirty Shar stopped painting, turned the lights off in the front of the coffeehouse, and went into the kitchen to wash her hands. Abby had come back earlier, silent and subdued, and even Daisy’s general joy in the world seemed tempered by something, probably that Kammani was holding court in half an hour with Noah by her side.

  “We can’t go,” Shar said. “Kammani—”

  “I think you’re overreacting,” Daisy said. “Hell, so far the worst she’s done is make Abby call her Goddess—”

  “Hey, it was a moment of weakness,” Abby said.

  “—but I don’t see her doing any serious damage. Noah wouldn’t work for her if she was dangerous.”

  Bad assumption, Shar thought.

  “And if she tries anything, we have powers, too, now. We’ll just kick her ass.”

  “Powers we don’t know anything about.” Shar leaned against the sink, drying her hands on one of Abby’s towels. “I’ve been thinking about this since Sam left this afternoon. I ask him about her, about what she wants, and he says he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know what the tonic does, he doesn’t know what she’s doing here. I think—”

  A movement in the doorway caught her eye, and she saw a man in a ski mask, a gun in his hand.

  “Oh, shit,” he said.

  “What the hell?” Abby said, and he pointed the gun at her.

  “Everybody does what I say, nobody gets hurt,” the guy said, sounding tough. “I know you’re here alone, so—”

  “Not alone,” Bowser growled, standing up.

  “Not alone,” Wolfie growled, moving closer.

  “Not alone,” Bailey growled, moving in, too, and putting his head low.

  “Son of a bitch must pay,” Milton yipped, and Shar grabbed him before he could launch himself at the gunman.

  The guy pointed his gun at Milton, and Bowser barked, “No!” and the guy swung the gun at Bowser, and Abby stepped forward, intent and angry, and while Shar watched, the gun began to stretch toward Abby, as if she were gathering it to her, as if it wanted to go to her, and as it began to melt from the effort, the guy yelled and flung it from him.

  Then Daisy caught it somehow, steadied it in space, and it began to revolve, spinning, faster and faster until it had flattened out like a Frisbee, and then Daisy flung it toward Shar, and Shar knew it was her turn and smashed it, the pieces of it spinning into the guy’s forehead as he screamed and fell backward, going down like a sack of potatoes.

  Bowser lumbered over and sat on the guy’s chest, and Wolfie grabbed one sleeve and Bailey got the other and dragged his arms out flat on the floor. Milton chewed on his shoe. Wolfie dropped his arm long enough to growl, “The mask, Milton!” and Milton scampered over the man’s body to grab the top of the ski mask in his needle-sharp teeth and tug until the mask came off and he toppled back with it in his mouth.

  “Hello, Doug,” Shar said.

  Doug was in no position to argue, but he did anyway.

  “Get these dogs off me!” he yelled. “This is assault!”

  “You come in here with a gun and you’re screaming
assault?” Daisy said, standing above him on the other side. “You must have balls the size of Manhattan.”

  “You weren’t supposed to be here,” Doug said. “You’re supposed to be at the temple. And anyway, that gun was a fake. And it melted. … How did it melt?” He let his head drop back to the floor, overcome.

  “He’s not one of our major minds,” Shar said.

  “You’re my professor,” Doug said, breathless from yelling and from a hundred and fifty pounds of dog on his chest. “I can make a lot of trouble for you at the school.”

  “Yeah, that’s a threat,” Shar said. “Listen, I’m annoyed with you. You scared the hell out of all of us, and now thanks to you, my baby’s first sentence was a line from a B movie.”

  “Yes, but it was Big Trouble in Little China,” Abby said. “As B movies go…” Doug tried to get up and Bowser wiggled his butt. All the air went out of Doug’s lungs.

  “So who sent you?” Daisy said.

  “I came on my own,” Doug said. “I just needed the money.”

  “You’re from one of the wealthiest families in Summerville,” Shar said. “You’re from one of the seven original families, which makes me even more suspicious. Tell me who sent you or we turn Bowser loose.”

  Bowser growled, “I don’t bite,” and Doug’s eyes got wider.

  “He’s growling! He’s gonna bite me!”

  “Not if you come clean,” Abby said.

  “Just spit it out,” Daisy said. “Or Bowser levels Manhattan.”

  “Okay, okay,” Doug said. “It was Mina.”

  “Mina?” Shar said. “Kammani told her to order you to do this?”

  “No,” Doug said. “Just Mina. She said you were getting too powerful, that we needed to shut you down before the place got too popular. She said it would help Kammani, that she’d be grateful. And Kammani’s been mad at me since I slapped her on the butt.”

  Daisy laughed, and Doug looked surly as he began to whine.

  “You wouldn’t believe the stuff that’s been happening to me. My car won’t start and my credit got zapped. And I can’t get…” He stopped. “Nothing works anymore.”

  “In other words,” Daisy said, “everything died on you. Finally, Mina’s powers are useful.”

  “Explain this to me,” Shar said. “You thought stealing money would stop the coffeehouse?”

  “Mina did. She thought if I took all the money and trashed the place, you’d have to close down.” Doug tried to move under Bowser, but it was hopeless. “Could I get up? I can’t breathe under here.”

  “What a shame,” Abby said, and the Three faced one another over Bowser’s back.

  “What do we do with him?” Shar said. “I vote we call the police.”

  “Oh, let him go,” Abby said. “He’s a clueless minion of an evil minion.”

  Daisy looked down at him. “Or we could ask him some questions.”

  “He’s not going to have any answers,” Shar said. “We’re going to have to go straight to the source for that.”

  “So we’re going to class?” Daisy said. “Good. How about we tie him up and stick him in cold storage, keep him fresh for later?”

  “Hey!” Doug said.

  Bowser shifted his weight and Doug shut up to breathe.

  “I think that’s kidnapping,” Shar said.

  “I see it as more of a citizen’s arrest,” Daisy said. “Potato, po-tah-to.”

  “Okay, we’re going to let you get up,” Abby told him. “But if you try anything, the dogs will get you before you take a step.”

  “I’m not allowed to bite people,” Wolfie growled. “I could go for a pant leg, though.”

  “Pant leg!” Bailey yelped, sounding like he was calling dibs.

  “Pant leg!” Milton yelped.

  “He won’t try anything,” Bowser growled. “I’ve been sitting on him.”

  Doug listened to the dogs growling around him and said, “Get them off me!”

  “Should I get up now?” Bowser growled.

  Doug looked at Bowser in terror.

  Abby said, “Up, Bowser,” and Bowser pushed himself off Doug, shoving the last of the air from Doug’s lungs as he did.

  “Okay, you can go,” Daisy told Doug. “I’m pretty sure we know everything now anyway.”

  Like what? Shar thought. That Mina is out to get us? And she can kill cars and cause erectile dysfunction? That’s not a help.

  “I agree; let him go,” Abby said. “We have bigger fish to fry.”

  Doug got up and looked around. “I should sue.”

  “Good idea,” Shar said. “You can talk to your lawyer about it when he visits you in the Big House for your conviction on breaking and entering and assault. Plus cruelty to animals.”

  Doug flushed. “I wasn’t cruel to animals.”

  “You scared Milton,” Shar said.

  “Let me bite him,” Milton yipped.

  “No, you may not,” Shar said to Milton.

  “You’re all nuts,” Doug said. “I’m not having anything else to do with any of you.”

  “Good plan,” Daisy said, and he left, trying to look defiant and just looking thick as a plank.

  “Great,” Shar said when he was gone. “So Mina has gone from glaring at people to sending minions. What do we do now?”

  “Let’s go to obedience class,” Abby said. “And be disobedient. I’ll bring cookies. Maybe Kammani will eat one and then Daisy can click her pen and we’ll see what she really wants.”

  “Be careful,” Bowser growled.

  Abby picked up a box of cookies, and Daisy said, “I’ve got my pen.”

  Shar thought about saying, You don’t need the cookies and the pen, it’s all within you, but even so, this is a really dangerous idea. But since Kammani and Co. had decided to go aggressive, anything that helped them figure out what was going on was probably worth the risk.

  “Let’s go,” Daisy said.

  “Let’s go!” Bailey yipped.

  “Bad idea,” Wolfie whined.

  “Bite him!” Milton barked.

  “No biting,” Shar said to Milton, and opened the back door.

  As Daisy and Bailey walked into the temple behind Abby and Bowser, Daisy turned to Shar and said out of the corner of her mouth, “I don’t think this is a dog obedience class anymore, Toto.”

  The first tip-off was that the lighting was now actual flaming torches. Wolfie eyed them uneasily and hid behind Shar, and Bailey and Bowser weren’t happy about them, either.

  The second clue was Umma and Bikka dressed in what looked like mini–horse blankets of white linen, embroidered in gold.

  “Cute,” Daisy said.

  “Uh-huh,” Shar said.

  “I brought cookies,” Abby said loudly, and headed into the room, laden with sugar, flour, butter, and purpose. Daisy followed Shar to their seats at the center of the half circle of chairs at the bottom of the altar and then stopped, startled to see Vera sitting in the last chair in the row. Vera put her cup of tonic down, took a cookie from Abby, shared a piece with Squash, and then noticed them and said, “Oh, hi, Daisy!”

  Daisy waved back as Mina appeared, dressed in a severe black business suit. Abby handed her a cookie on her way to Bun and Gen, and Mina bit into it cautiously. Thatta girl, Daisy thought, and then Mina looked up and caught Daisy watching and frowned, straightening to stare at her, and Daisy felt a chill as Mina’s eyes bored into her.

  What the hell? It was bad enough the wench had sent Doug to rob the coffeehouse, now she was using her powers on them? Daisy drew up her anger from her center and shot back, sending the chill away as her breeze blew Mina’s hair into her bug eyes.

  On the wall, a torch started to slip out of its brace, and Mina ran to right it again.

  Good. Daisy smiled down at Bailey, who quivered at her feet. “And that, m’love, is how it’s done.”

  Abby sat down next to Daisy and picked up one of the cups of tonic that had been set on a tray behind the chairs. “I need to
get this back to the coffee shop so I can figure out what’s in it. Anybody bring a bottle with you?”

  Shar took a water bottle out of her purse, poured the last bit of water on the stone floor behind her chair, and handed the bottle to Abby. Then she said to Daisy, “I saw that.”

  “What?” Daisy said.

  “You used your power just to annoy Mina.”

  Daisy held up her hands. “Do you see a clicky pen?”

  Shar met her eyes. “Daisy.”

  Daisy sighed. “Okay, fine. So I blew a little chaos wind at Mina. Big deal.”

  “Look,” Shar said, her voice low as the three of them leaned together in their seats. “We have to be careful. Everybody’s had Abby’s cookies. Be careful who you activate. God knows what Mina wants; we don’t need her acting on it. It’s Kammani we’re here for, remember?”

  “It’s no big deal—,” Daisy began, but then Mina said, “You! Move!” and Daisy looked up to see her glaring down at Vera.

  “I’m sorry?” Vera said, sounding surprised.

  “I need to be seated at my goddess’s left hand,” Mina said.

  Squash raised her head and said, “Tell her to bug off.”

  “Oh, well,” Vera said, “Squash is so comfortable, do you think you could … ?” and she motioned genially to the empty seat between her and Shar.

  “No,” Mina said, her voice laced with a deep contempt that went surprisingly well with her business suit. “You are weak.” She shot a look directly at Daisy. “Those who are weak do not deserve to be at my goddess’s hand.”

  There was a silence while the sane people in the room watched Mina to see what her next move would be, and then Vera said, “Um. Okay. I’ll just move over then,” and fumbled with her bag and leash and cup of tonic as she shifted into the seat next to Shar.

  Mina watched, showing teeth but definitely not smiling. Little bitch, Daisy thought as Mina settled into the last chair, Mort heh-heh-hehing on her lap.

  Daisy smiled and turned to Vera. “These seats are better, anyway, Vera. It’s warmer over here.”