And she knew she lied.
Friday morning, Daisy stood next to Vera’s grave, Noah at her side and Squash and Bailey at their feet. The last of the funeral attendees were leaving, and with no eulogy to distract them while she waited for alone time with Squash, Daisy decided to pry a little.
“So, kind of strange about the bees, huh?”
“Yeah,” Noah said, eyes scanning the cemetery. “Strange.”
“I mean, what are the chances, right? All those bees descending on one town?” She looked up at him. “How do you think that might have happened?”
He shrugged. “Good thing the beekeepers needed them. They got them all wrangled pretty fast.”
See? He doesn’t know anything, she thought, but then wondered what she expected him to say. Kammani loosed a swarm on the town and I helped her? He wouldn’t.
Because he was innocent and he didn’t know anything about Kammani. She was sure of it. Mostly. But the last of the mourners were finally out of sight, and she had other things to focus on.
She handed Bailey’s leash to Noah. “Do you want to take Bailey back to your car and wait for us?” She glanced down at Squash. “There’s just a little thing that Squash and I need to do.”
Noah shook his head. “I’m fine right here.”
Okay. Daisy walked Squash over to the grave, knelt down, and scratched the dog behind her ears. She glanced back at Noah, then huddled next to Squash and whispered, “How ya doing, girl?”
Squash looked at her, her eyes baleful. “She was mine.”
“I know.” Daisy pulled the small green quilted sachet she had put together the night before out of her pocket and held it up in front of Squash, who gave it a light sniff.
“Lavender,” Squash said.
“Good nose,” Daisy whispered.
“Dog,” Squash explained simply.
“Vera liked herbs, and lavender helps you rest.” She held the sachet up and turned it in her hands. “It’s also got a little bit of vitamin powder, for strength. And I put in a fiber supplement—inside joke. Laughter’s important. And that paw print I got from you yesterday? It’s in there, too.” Daisy scratched Squash behind one ear. “I thought maybe you could … if you want to, you don’t have to … I thought you could bury it with her. You know.” She met Squash’s eye. “To say good-bye.”
Squash stared at her for a long moment, and Daisy thought that maybe she’d screwed up. “You don’t have to. It was just that a funeral is closure for people, but for a dog, I didn’t know if it would have any meaning. I thought maybe—”
Squash took the sachet between her teeth. Daisy straightened, stepping back to give Squash privacy as she dug a small hole in the fresh dirt, directly over Vera’s heart. Squash dropped the sachet in and buried it, whining a little as she did, but Daisy tried not to listen to what she said. When Squash was done, she returned to Daisy, and Daisy took her leash.
“I’m yours now,” Daisy said.
“I don’t fetch,” Squash barked.
“Good,” Daisy said. “Me neither. You like The Office?”
She looked up to find Noah still watching her, a curious expression on his face. Daisy tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and they made the trip back to the coffeehouse in silence.
“Squash!” Bailey barked as they all entered the kitchen together. “Squeaky toys in the courtyard! Let’s go!”
“All right,” Squash sighed, and followed Bailey out to the back while everyone else went into the front where the tables were.
“Where’s Gen?” Daisy asked.
“Lunch with Bun and Christopher,” Abby said, an edge in her voice as she said Christopher’s name.
Daisy sat down next to Sam, who took up two places on his own.
“Jesus, you’re big,” she said.
“Different god,” Abby whispered as she placed a platter of cinnamon cookies in the center of the table.
“But still a god.” Shar took a cookie, looked at Sam, and bit into it deliberately and with intent, and Sam grinned at her.
Noah took that in stride, Daisy noticed. He takes everything in stride, she thought, but still her shoulders tensed.
“Hey, Noah,” she said, “would you grab my sweater for me, please? It’s in the kitchen.”
“If you’re cold, I can turn down the—,” Abby began, but Daisy cut her off with a look, and Abby regrouped. “The AC’s stuck.”
“I’ll be right back.” Noah got up and headed for the kitchen. Daisy waited until he was gone, then leaned in and looked at Sam.
“So, Sam, we haven’t really had a chance to chat. What the hell did Kammani do to Vera?”
Sam lost his smile. “It wasn’t Kammani.”
“Could it be the tonic? What’s in that stuff anyway?”
Shar shook her head. “It wasn’t the tonic.”
“It was just her time,” Sam said to Daisy.
“I don’t think so,” Abby said, but then Noah came through the kitchen door, Daisy’s sweater in his hand.
“No goddess stuff in front of Noah,” Daisy whispered, and Abby said, “You haven’t told—?” and Daisy said, “I will,” in a harsh whisper that shut the conversation down.
Noah gave Daisy her sweater and sat down, and everyone went stiff and quiet around the table. Noah glanced around from face to face, and Shar nudged the platter of cookies toward Noah. “Have a cookie.”
“Thanks.” Noah reached out and took a cookie, and there was another long, awkward silence as he bit into it. He chewed slowly as he realized everyone was staring at him, then swallowed and looked at Daisy.
“Oh, hell,” Daisy said. “Kammani’s a goddess. Sam’s a god. Abby and Shar and I are some kind of kick-ass ancient goddess sisterhood of three. We have powers, and we can hear dogs talk.”
Noah stared at her. Just stared. No shock, no surprise, no choking on his cookie. Ice shot down Daisy’s spine as she came face-to-face with the reality she’d been secretly dreading all along: He already knows.
“Maybe you two should … ?” Abby said, motioning toward the kitchen.
“Yeah. Maybe we should.” Daisy stood up and led the way through the kitchen and out to the courtyard, where the dogs met them at the door, tails wagging.
“Treats!” Milton barked.
“I got nothing,” Daisy said, holding up empty hands. “Scoot.”
Bowser and Wolfie headed to the far corner with Milton, but Bailey stayed, his tail wagging slow and low as he watched Daisy and Noah with concern in his eyes. Squash, who was curled up in a sunny patch by the wall, simply lifted her head.
“It’s okay, Bail,” Daisy said. “Go.”
“Ball!” Bowser barked, and Bailey turned and ran over to them. Daisy watched them for a moment, not wanting to start the conversation, because once it started, there’d be no turning back.
“Daisy?”
She turned to see Noah looking at her, his expression wary.
“You were saying?” he prodded.
“Right. To recap. I’m a goddess.”
Noah nodded. “Okay.”
“Oh my god,” Daisy said. “ ‘Okay’? Are you kidding? Don’t you have questions? Don’t you want proof?” Please want proof. Please don’t already know everything.
“Do I want proof?” Noah said, staring at her like she was nuts, but then he just shrugged. “Sure. Okay. Prove you’re a goddess.”
“Okay.” Daisy glanced around at the menagerie in the corner. “Come here, Bowser.”
Bowser lumbered over and barked, “What?”
“Noah’s going to whisper a word in your ear; then you tell me what it is.”
Bowser did the dog version of a shrug, then looked at Noah. Noah glanced at Daisy, tentative, and Daisy motioned encouragement.
“Go ahead.”
Noah took Bowser aside and said something to him; then they both walked back.
“What’d he say?” Daisy asked Bowser, and Bowser barked, “Buttgig!” and Daisy turned to Noah and said, “What
the hell is buttgig?”
Noah stared at Bowser for a moment, then looked back at Daisy. “I made it up. How … ?”
“I can understand him. I can understand all of them,” Daisy said, comforted that Noah seemed at least a little thrown. But still, the gnawing in her gut remained.
“And talking to dogs makes you a goddess?” he asked.
“Well, that and … you know. Other things. It’s complicated.”
“Other things. Right.” Noah walked over to the stone bench and sat down.
Daisy hesitated a moment, then sat next to him. “I know it’s a lot to—”
“So, it’s real, then?” he asked, looking at her.
Her stomach sank. “Wha—what’s real?”
“The goddess thing.” Noah shook his head, looking slightly stunned. “The women in my family—Mina, Aunt Miriam—they’re part of this … religion, I guess. A long-lost goddess, powers over death, all the women have a dog. Usually they’re creepy and black.” He looked at the dogs playing in the corner. “Guess that’s just my family.”
Daisy felt a cold chill go down her back. “You … you knew?”
He let out a short, stuttered laugh and shook his head. “But it can’t be real. They’re all insane.” He looked at her. “It’s real?”
Daisy stood up, her knees wobbling under her. “Oh, god, I’m gonna be sick.”
Noah stood up, too, moving closer to her. “Why? What’s the matter?”
“What’s the—?” she sputtered, backing away from him. “You knew and you didn’t tell me that you knew and we had sex, a lot, that’s what’s the matter. You helped her and you gave us the temple tonic and—” Daisy put her hand over her stomach. “Oh, god.”
Noah’s voice was tight and quiet. “What are you saying? You think I drugged you?”
“No,” she said. “God, no. No.” A little. Maybe. NO. “No.”
He went deathly still. “So, working for Kammani makes me a rapist, then?”
“No.” Daisy put her hand to her head. “No. I mean … I wanted what happened between us; you know that.”
“Yeah, but only because I drugged you, right?” He stared at her, his eyes hard. “That’s your working theory, isn’t it?”
“What do you want from me?” Daisy said, desperation and frustration winding her stomach in knots. “I drank the stuff and my whole life went haywire, and there you were. I’m not saying it was you, I’m saying I’m confused, and you lied to me—”
“I didn’t tell you about my family’s crazy goddess thing because I liked you. That’s different from lying, and you know it.”
“Well … why were you even working for her in the first place?”
“Because crazy money is as good as sane money,” he said. “Because my aunt asked me to. Because I’m good with dogs. Not to … drug innocent women and lure them into my trap, or whatever you’re cooking up in your head.”
“I’m not—” Daisy took a breath, felt the emotion welling within her, heating up behind her eyes. Around her, the wind started to build, out of her control. “I didn’t mean— But you— Damn it!” She closed her eyes and breathed deep, calming the air around her, pulling it back in.
Control.
She opened her eyes and looked up to see Noah staring at her, the anger on his face replaced by a blank expression. He motioned vaguely around them.
“So, that … with the wind,” he said. “That’s you?”
“It’s tied to my emotions. I’m the Goddess of Chaos.” She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “I have a clicky pen.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and then Noah’s face cracked into a smile and Daisy’s entire body relaxed in the warmth of it.
“You have a clicky pen?” he said.
“It’s a … like a tool,” Daisy said. “It helps me focus the chaos.”
“The clicky pen?”
“Shut up,” she said. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m still very upset.” And then she laughed, and he laughed, and Daisy knew it was going to be okay.
Maybe.
“Look,” he said. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on here. You probably don’t, either. I get that. But I need you to know that I would never hurt you, or your friends. If you’re not sure, then say the word and I’ll walk away. No hard feelings.”
She looked at him, still confused about so much, but deep inside, she felt sure of him. She wasn’t sure of herself, her world, her life, but she was sure of him.
“I know you’d never hurt us,” she said, putting her hand on his arm.
Kammani might.
“Yeah?” he said, and when he looked at her, she could see in his eyes how much this mattered to him. For the first time, it occurred to her that he might be as deeply affected by her as she was by him.
Maybe Kammani drugged both of us.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Good.” He pulled her into his arms, and Daisy’s whole body relaxed at his touch, and she wondered how he did it, made her feel so safe just by holding her in his arms.
It can’t be real. It’s too fast. If I can do magic that makes people take action, Kammani can—
“I don’t want you to worry about anything,” he said, then pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I won’t let her get near you again.”
His face was earnest, his eyes steely and committed. She could see how strongly he cared for her, feel it in his touch. And she cared for him, too. If Kammani hurt him, she’d kill her, without even thinking twice.
It’s not real. It can’t be real. It’s magic, and it’ll wear off.
Daisy shuddered and Noah ran his hands over her arms. “You cold?”
“No.” She leaned in to kiss him until the dark thoughts went away, replaced by the warm comfort of his touch. He kissed her back, then leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, “We’re okay?”
I don’t know, she thought, but just said, “Yes,” and kissed him again.
Kammani was staring at the Summerville newspaper when Mina came into the temple that night, dressed in a black suit, Mort tucked under her arm. “They loved you at the TV station, KG,” she said, taking off her sunglasses. “They—”
“The swarm was conquered,” Kammani said, staring at the headline. Somewhere, buried deep within her, was rage and fear, but Mina’s pills held all that at bay. Which was a damn good thing, because otherwise she’d have been depressed as all hell.
“I know; it’s terrible.” Mina reached her side, her face sympathetic, and pulled a small orange bottle out of her bag. “Here, have another Paxil.”
Kammani popped the pill and took the bottle of water Mina handed her to wash it down, as Mina went on.
“It turns out we got hit really hard by something called Collapsed Hive Syndrome a few years ago and we really needed the bees. But it did the job anyway; none of the faithful were stung. Now, the TV people…”
Collapsed Hive Syndrome, Kammani thought, tuning Mina out. These people label disasters like TV shows. I need something more, something that will shake them to their cores.…
She drank from the bottle of water again, trying to remember back to the old world, to something that had worked before. Before, that was a good time. Anything was better than now. She sighed and went back to thinking, as Mina droned on about not wearing stripes on TV. She never wore stripes anyway. Back to the problem, she needed something big, something this hateful world couldn’t control. Something like…
“—and then the station manager said—”
“Plague,” Kammani said, smiling.
“What?” Mina said, thrown off stride.
“Tonight at the Goddess Way, I will announce a plague. The faithful will be spared—”
“Wait a minute,” Mina said, looking alarmed. “You don’t understand how this world works. You’re going to get us busted.” Kammani glared at her and she flinched, but she went on. “You send a plague, we’ll have the Center for Disease Control here in twenty-four hours. They’ll look aroun
d to see where it came from. We could get in big—”
“A plague,” Kammani said, feeling a goddesslike calm descend as the meds kicked in. “The sickness will sweep across the land.”
Mina rubbed her forehead. “I know that worked in the old days, but things have changed.” She looked at Kammani, woman to woman. “A plague will just get us—”
“A plague,” Kammani said, smiling, full of peace.
Mina sighed. “Okay, KG, a plague it is. Can I pick who dies?”
“No,” Kammani said, and went back to the newspaper.
Miracle of the Bees, the headline said, and showed some fool in a beekeeper’s hat looking delighted.
I’ll give them miracles, Kammani thought dreamily. I’ll give them a miracle to remember.
“Now we need to decide what you’re going to talk about,” Mina said, “because you only have twenty minutes, and I don’t think you should mention the plague, because then they’d have evidence it was our fault.”
Kammani sighed and put the newspaper down to concentrate on Mina’s plan.
Plague and television.
That should bring them in, Kammani thought, and listened to Mina tell her how she was going to be the next Summerville cable star.
At midnight, Shar sat naked and cross-legged at the foot of her bed, with a plate of blue-iced star cookies in her lap, trying to find her bearings. She was supposed to find out things from Sam. And in the past three days she had, many things, not one of which was going to help them bring Kammani down.
I sure liked them, though, she thought, and took another bite of cookie while she surveyed the guy stretched out beside her who was watching her eat with a half smile on his face.
“I have to get back to work,” she told him. “I’m this close to finishing the citations on that damn book. I’m deleting Kammani for the good of the universe, so that simpled everything up.” She licked some anise icing off her lip. “You know, I’m looking at that book in a whole new light, now that I’m a goddess, too. Although technically, I’m not.”
“You’re a goddess,” Sam said.
“Technically, I’m a demi-goddess,” Shar said. “Goddess mother, human father.” She chewed slower. “That’s not right, either. If my grandmother Sharrat was a goddess, then my mother was a demi-goddess and I must be a hemi-demi-semi-goddess or something. I’ll have to ask Christopher. He knows fractions.”
Dogs and Goddesses Page 26