The Spider Goddess

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The Spider Goddess Page 8

by Tara Moss


  ‘It is a true pleasure to finally meet you, Pandora,’ Deus said, smiling.

  I couldn’t pick the accent, but it wasn’t Romanian.

  ‘Um, yes . . . ah . . .’ I stuttered, trying to find my tongue.

  ‘I’ll leave you two. You have much to discuss,’ Celia said.

  No!

  Celia seemed to catch my panic. We traded a glance and the look in her eye told me to relax. But how on earth was I to relax?

  Deus gave her a courteous nod before escorting her to the door. I watched for a kiss or lovers’ gesture at the top of the little steps, and didn’t see either. Still, I noticed Celia was positively glowing. Was she blushing? She stepped back into the penthouse and closed the door behind her. Deus turned and I averted my eyes.

  ‘Sorry for the entrance. It must seem rather theatrical to you,’ he said as he came back to join me.

  ‘Oh no. Not really. I mean, you are . . . It’s . . . No, that’s fine.’ I stuttered awkwardly, looking at my shoes. A coffin. Did he really just rise from a coffin? Celia keeps a casket for him?

  ‘May I sit?’ I heard him say.

  ‘Oh yes, uh, please,’ I replied. I took one chair and he took the other.

  I crossed my legs and fidgeted, trying to avoid his face. The desire to look at him was frighteningly intense, and I fought against it. From what I’d seen he wasn’t handsome exactly, but he was extremely attractive in a magnetic sense. I knew he was smiling. I had to say something. The stretch of silence had become excruciating.

  ‘So, yes . . . nice to meet you Deus . . . Isn’t Deus Latin for God?’ I asked, evidently unable to stop myself rambling as soon as I opened my mouth. I flicked my eyes up to his face, saw its smooth texture, saw that large, pleasant grin, and I looked down again.

  No, not handsome, but . . .

  ‘Well, yes it is. We know some Latin, do we?’ he replied calmly.

  I blushed. ‘Not really . . . just . . . I know a few words from my mother’s books. That’s all.’

  There was a long silence. ‘Shall we have some tea?’ he finally suggested.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t know you . . . Well yes, of course . . .’ Before I could finish embarrassing myself with my sudden inability to string a sentence together, he had poured us both a cup.

  ‘Cream and sugar?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He handed me my cup and placed some sugar in his. He didn’t touch the cream. ‘Lactose intolerant,’ he explained.

  Oh.

  I took a sip of tea.

  ‘You have a problem with my kind?’ Deus suggested.

  I nearly choked. ‘No, no! I have nothing against your kind. Nothing at all.’

  ‘I meant that I understand you are experiencing a problem with someone in particular.’

  Now I understood what he meant. ‘Oh yes, there are a few vampir . . . uh, Sanguine models in the building and they really don’t like me.’

  I can’t believe I nearly said vampire! Idiot . . . idiot . . .

  I looked at his face now, finally. And immediately I thought, Oh no. He is handsome. A handsome vampire. It seemed a horrible idea. Horrible because of the hold a Sanguine like Athanasia had over others, particularly men. She hypnotised them so easily. They went silly around her. They gawked. Was the same going to happen to me now with Deus? Was I going to gawk helplessly at him?

  ‘You’ve been having some troubles with Athanasia, I understand,’ Deus gently prodded.

  I nodded enthusiastically, tearing myself away from my strange thoughts. ‘Yes. She wants to kill me.’ I paused. ‘Actually she wants to kill me and eat me.’ I took another sip of tea. Great-Aunt Celia sure knew how to make some wicked Earl Grey.

  ‘I see,’ Deus responded calmly, the grin still on his face. An eternal smile, I thought.

  ‘And you staked her,’ he said.

  I bit my lip. ‘Wait, that’s not fair. She attacked me. It was purely self-defence. She attacked me in the lobby downstairs. And another time after a fashion show, and yesterday she would have attacked me if I hadn’t produced some rice.’

  ‘Hmmm, she hasn’t outgrown her counting.’ He thought about that. ‘You didn’t provoke her, then?’

  I thought of my comment about vampire chic being out of style. I guess someone like Athanasia might find such a comment provocative, but it hardly warranted a murder attempt.

  ‘Not really,’ I said.

  He nodded. ‘I see. I’ll have a word with her and her friends.’

  ‘I don’t want to make things worse,’ I said. ‘I don’t need any more trouble. I just want her to leave me alone.’

  Deus nodded. ‘I’ve heard there are things afoot at the moment, but Athanasia will leave you alone now.’

  ‘Things are afoot? What kind of things?’

  Deus bowed his head. ‘Celia warned me that you like to ask questions.’ His grin didn’t falter. Nor did he elaborate on just what kinds of things were afoot. ‘So, how is Pandora magazine working out for you?’ he asked.

  I was taken aback. I hadn’t imagined Deus would have given my work any thought.

  ‘Um, my job is fine,’ I said cautiously. ‘It’s not easy to get work in New York.’ I squinted at him. ‘Why do you ask? You didn’t have anything to do with me getting that job, did you?’

  ‘Me? No. I didn’t get you that job. Though of course I did know it was available, after what Athanasia had done.’

  ‘You mean after she killed my predecessor.’ And turned her into a Sanguine.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied.

  And Deus had told my great-aunt about it, who’d told me to go to the magazine. And there it was. I’d got my first job in New York because of Athanasia. A vampire. And that same vampire was trying to kill me. I was quiet for a while as I absorbed that bit of info.

  ‘I’ve not seen Samantha around lately. Is she okay?’ I asked.

  ‘I believe so,’ he said. ‘But it wasn’t her I wished to discuss. I was wondering about your colleagues, Skye and Pepper.’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ve realised they don’t remember anything of the incident that took place the other month.’

  Yes, the incident. The incident when I saved them. ‘I’d noticed,’ I said and watched his face. ‘You . . . did that?’

  ‘It fell to me to erase them, yes. I haven’t had the chance to discuss it with you. I was wondering how that was working out.’

  Deus had erased them. Of course. I knew something had done it. I supposed you couldn’t have two women roaming around Manhattan blabbering about what they’d seen. They’d probably be in straightjackets by now if he hadn’t intervened.

  ‘Well, you did a good job,’ I conceded. ‘They don’t remember anything.’ I put my head in my hands and sighed. ‘I understand. I do. Or I’m trying to understand. You have to erase their minds.’

  ‘The world isn’t ready for what we are, Pandora.’

  I had no comeback for that.

  ‘Couldn’t you have just taken away their memories and maybe left a bit of gratitude in there for the fact I saved their lives? Couldn’t they at least like me a little, even if they don’t know why? Ah, never mind.’ Then I thought of Jay. Roses guy. ‘Did you erase my boyfriend as well?’ I had to ask.

  ‘No. It was already done.’

  I sighed. ‘Oh. He doesn’t even know who I am now. And he’s the only real boy I’ve met in New York.’

  Sharing boy problems with a long-dead Sanguine? My love life was getting ridiculous.

  ‘Never mind,’ I finally said under my breath.

  Deus straightened his tie. ‘It’s been a pleasure, Pandora, but if you’ll excuse me I do have a tight schedule this evening.’ He rose from his chair and extended his hand.

  I shook it, and felt a strange pull as our skin touched. His hand felt smooth, cool and somehow sensual. I blinked a few times and wondered . . . could he really be dead? With such a strong presence?

  ‘Please thank your lovely great-aunt for t
he tea,’ Deus said, and then paused. I looked at his face, and found that I didn’t want to look away. Those eyelashes were so long. His skin seemed silky. How could it feel like that? He inclined his head towards me, still gently gripping my hand. ‘You have a question?’ he stated more than asked.

  I swallowed. ‘Yes. I do,’ I said. I disengaged and let my hand fall to my side. ‘Um, is it true that you are . . . dead? That your heart does not beat?’

  Deus let out a curious sigh, something like a quiet laugh, and asked, ‘Do you really want to know?’

  I found myself nodding. I did.

  He took my right hand in his and guided it towards the left-hand side of his chest.

  I gasped. His flesh was cold, but his heart beats. I could feel it clearly and steadily beneath my palm. The rhythm was slow and hypnotic.

  ‘But . . . I’d been told —’

  ‘I’m sure you’ve been told a lot of things,’ he said, echoing Celia’s words.

  I was stunned into silence. He had his hands clasped behind him now, and I kept my hand there on his chest, feeling the beat.

  ‘Now, it has been my pleasure to finally meet you, Pandora, but if you’ll excuse me, I have some other matters to attend to this evening,’ he said. ‘Please thank your beautiful great-aunt for her hospitality. I’m sure we will see each other again soon.’

  ‘Yes. Uh, thank you,’ I said and took a step back. I curled my hand into a ball and let it drop at my side.

  His heart beats. I felt it. It beats.

  Still smiling, Deus walked back to the casket on the floor, opened the lid and slid into the darkness inside. Each movement was smooth as water. Slowly the lid closed, and then he was gone.

  I squinted and cocked my head to one side.

  It took perhaps a minute to come out of the strange, mesmerised feeling Deus had left me with. Once I did, I went right up to the casket, put my ear to the lid and listened. At first I heard nothing, and then there was a slight echo of footsteps.

  Aha!

  I pulled open the lid.

  The coffin was bottomless. I leapt up, grabbed one of Celia’s glowing candles and lowered my arm inside. There were stone steps leading down into darkness.

  A private entrance. Of course.

  And to think that for a moment there I’d believed Deus actually hung out in a coffin in Celia’s room. Ludicrous.

  ‘Pandora?’

  Celia was calling for me. I took one last look through the coffin’s empty base and then hurriedly closed the lid. The doorknob on the door leading to the hallway turned, and my great-aunt appeared. She found me standing in her sitting room with her candle in my hand, looking guilty.

  ‘Watch it now or you could burn yourself,’ she said casually, then glanced down at the coffin and the corners of her mouth turned up for a moment. ‘I hope you’ll forgive the entrance.’

  ‘The entrance?’

  She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. ‘The hidden entrance. It was here before I bought the place.’

  ‘Oh.’ It was? But who would . . .?

  ‘It’s not really my style, I’m sure you’ll agree. I’ve been thinking of just putting a trapdoor in its place, but I never get round to organising it. Besides, I imagine the coffin would rather prevent nosey people from finding the passageway. Come,’ she beckoned. I placed the candle back on the sideboard and stepped into the hall. She re-locked the door behind us and followed me into the main penthouse. ‘There are reasons why Deus cannot come in through the main door,’ she told me as we reached the main lounge room, casting her eyes on the doorway that I came and went from every day.

  Oh. Sanguine cannot enter the penthouse.

  ‘And it would be most bothersome for him to run into some of those Fledglings on the main street. All the grovelling and so on. Some of them really don’t know when to quit.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I left the tea.’ I suddenly felt the need to sit down.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, darling. I’ll take care of it. You have a lie down.’

  Instead I sat on the hassock near her reading chair. I felt strangely depleted from being in Deus’s presence. It was like I’d spent a prolonged period of time pressed up against a lion’s cage. Now that the adrenaline had passed, I felt so drained I needed to rest, perhaps even sleep. I’d been near Sanguine before – not by choice – but Deus was different. Even compared with the four-hundred-year-old Elizabeth Báthory, his presence was somehow more intense. I hadn’t realised how shaken I was until he had gone.

  ‘Don’t you find his manner . . . strange?’ I couldn’t help but ask.

  Celia perched on the arm of her chair. ‘How do you mean?’

  I thought of that permanent grin and felt my stomach do a little flip. It was pleasant, and yet . . .

  I wondered how best to put it. ‘He’s always happy looking.’

  ‘He is a Kathakano, Pandora. They always grin.’

  ‘He’s a what?’

  ‘Kathakano,’ my great-aunt said. ‘The traditional Sanguine of ancient Crete.’

  Ancient Crete?

  Oh boy.

  ‘Oh yes, ancient.’ The corners of her lips curved up ever so slightly.

  Had I really just spent time with someone who had walked the earth since the days of ancient Greece? What was it like to live so long . . . and still be grinning?

  ‘The effect he has on you will get easier to control.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘His presence can be quite overwhelming at first,’ she explained. ‘It’s a natural predatory effect the Sanguine have on humans. As a rule, the more ancient they are, the more skilful they are at using Sanguine trickery, so the more powerful the effect. I suppose you spent half the meeting looking at him, or trying desperately not to look at him, or thinking about his face and wondering what exactly it was that made it so alluring. Wondering what it would be like to be closer to him? Wondering what it would be like if he just reached out and touched you? Or you touched him?’

  I blushed.

  ‘It’s okay. It’s a perfectly normal reaction to the presence of a Sanguine, particularly a powerful one. It would not have been personal. He wouldn’t have been trying to seduce you.’ She raised an eyebrow, and threw me a salacious look. ‘Because if he had been trying to seduce you, well, we’d know about it.’

  I blushed even worse.

  ‘But it will get easier. Especially for you, Pandora. You are gifted.’

  ‘Is that part of being the Seventh?’ Celia had often told me that I was the Seventh – the seventh Lucasta daughter. This role meant I had responsibilities as well as powerful, innate gifts. She still hadn’t explained exactly what those gifts were. The seventh son of a seventh son was nothing compared to a seventh Lucasta daughter, she’d informed me. I was hoping she would now enlighten me as to why.

  Celia just smiled. ‘The next time you meet him, you’ll be more in control of your reaction.’

  Next time. Did I want there to be a next time? Part of me really did. The part of me I was going to ignore, however, because I felt like I’d been tricked. It was Sanguine trickery. I mean, I touched his heart. I felt his heart beating!

  ‘You touched his chest, didn’t you? That was brave,’ Celia remarked.

  ‘Oh, I . . . yes. I-I thought their hearts didn’t beat,’ I stuttered.

  ‘How do you think the blood pumps through their bodies?’ she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘They are Sanguine. The blood is the life.’

  The blood is the life. Was my great-aunt now quoting Count Dracula himself?

  ‘I thought you hated Bram Stoker.’

  Celia chuckled slightly at my reaction. ‘Well, it is a good line.’

  I had never in my life felt so incredibly naked. My great-aunt had known everything I was feeling – everything I was feeling about her . . . boyfriend? Was that what he was? What was it that he had going with Great-Aunt Celia, exactly? He was keeping her young somehow, but he hadn’t turned
her. I’d spoken about it with her before, but she was cagey about the specifics and I still didn’t understand. Her approach to keeping me in the loop seemed to be on a need to know basis. Was it love? I knew what my paperback novels said – the eternal love of the vampire and all that – but even with a beating heart, could a predator, a Sanguine, really love?

  ‘What is it that you two have?’ I blurted and, as soon as the question popped out, I knew I’d been too rash, too rude. My great-aunt did not respond to rudeness.

  Her eyes flashed wide and then narrowed. ‘That’s a bit personal, darling,’ she said, and smiled, but her pale, beautiful face was closed to me. I knew that look. It meant end of discussion. ‘A lady has to retain some mystery,’ she added and straightened her dress. ‘Now, darling, you look exhausted —’

  ‘Great-Aunt Celia, I’m sorry if it’s rude to ask all these questions . . . but . . . How do you know you’re safe with him?’

  At that, she smiled wickedly. ‘You needn’t worry about me. I’m not so powerless.’

  I pondered that. What powers did she have, exactly? How could she feel safe with someone as clearly powerful as Deus? Someone centuries old?

  ‘Much as I am touched by your concern, I assure you I am safe with him. There is much I can know about a person,’ she insisted, and the sparkle in her eye returned. Though Celia had never directly said so, I was increasingly sure that she could read my mind. Perhaps she could read other people’s minds. Could she read his?

  She reached a hand out to me, and I took it. ‘Come. You need your rest. There are things afoot in Spektor, I can feel it.’

  ‘Deus said that too. What things?’ I asked.

  ‘We’ll soon find out, won’t we? For now you must rest. I left a drink by your bed. Something to help you sleep tonight.’ She helped me to my feet. My limbs felt filled with lead. ‘Sleep well, Pandora. I’m glad you and Deus have finally met.’

  I nodded. I took a step forward and stopped. ‘But he’s not a person,’ I said.

  ‘Pardon?’

 

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