Goddess of Love (8 page)

“Venus, what have you been up to?” Persephone asked as she took the love goddess's arm and propelled her from the restaurant.

“I only did what you said I should do.”

“What does that mean?”

“You were the one who said if a modern mortal asked for my aid that I should grant it.”

“I didn't say that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Venus!” Persephone rounded on her. “What—did—you—do?”

“I walked in the ladies' room and Pea was—”

“Pea?”

“The mortal you think is pathetic. Stop interrupting.”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Pea was reciting an invocation.” Venus gave her a “so there” look. When Persephone didn't say anything, she added, “One of
my
invocations. She was actually asking for my aid. By name. Me. And you know the poor girl definitely needs my aid.”

“Are you telling me that you told her who you are?”

“Well, of course. She was calling me.”

“You said you're Venus, Goddess of Love.”

“Of course I did. That is who I am.”

Persephone began rubbing her right temple. “And this Pea person said what in response to your proclamation?”

“She was surprised and seemed perhaps a little slow in her ability to understand.”

“You mean she didn't believe you.”

“You could put it that way.”

“Good. Then there was little harm done. Come on. Let's get you home before you're on the evening news.”

“The what?”

“Forget it. I'll explain all of this to you later. Let's get back. Demeter is going to be unbearable if I'm late again.” They left the restaurant and Persephone looked up at the prematurely darkening sky. “And our timing is excellent. No one, mortal or immortal, likes to get caught out in a nasty Oklahoma rainstorm, and it definitely looks like one is almost here.”

Venus sighed and didn't say anything else, quickening her pace to keep up with Persephone. She felt so odd—definitely out of sorts, like part of her was sad and embarrassed and very, very tired. Persephone linked arms with her and silently Venus hurried down the sidewalk with her while rain clouds roiled across the bruised-looking sky. They crossed the street in front of the renovated Tribune Lofts and followed the pedestrian bridge over the railroad tracks. They came to the spot in the heart of the bridge that locals had taken to calling the Center of the Universe because of the weird acoustical phenomenon they experienced when they stood dead center of the swirling brick-and-concrete pattern, which was actually a byproduct of having a portal to Olympus operating in the modern world.

Persephone glanced around them. “Well, the storm is definitely making things easier for us. No one's out here.” She waved her hand at the space in front of them and the air rippled. A spherical area about as big as an ordinary door materialized, and without hesitation the Goddess of Spring walked into it, instantly disappearing. Venus sighed again and stepped forward, only to run face first into something so hard and impenetrable that, with a little yelp, she jumped back, rubbing her nose.

Persephone's disembodied head appeared from the middle of the sphere, like she was peeking out of a curtained alcove. “What is taking you so long?”

“I don't know. I…” Hesitantly Venus moved forward, holding one hand out in front of her. When she came to the area of the shining orb near Persephone's face the air suddenly solidified, barring her from entering it. “I can't get through,” she said faintly.

“Don't be ridiculous. Of course you can you just—” But Persephone's words broke off when she grabbed her friend's hand and attempted to pull her through the portal, but found that, although her own arm slid easily back and forth from one world to the other, Venus's encountered unmovable resistance.

“Has something happened and I've lost my powers?” Venus asked as Persephone reentered the modern world.

“That shouldn't matter. Even a modern mortal would be able to pass through Demeter's portal, which is why I'm so careful about no one seeing me come or go,” Persephone said.

While the Goddess of Spring was talking, Venus had turned to face a lovely tree that grew not far from them. She flicked her slender fingers at its winter naked branches and suddenly it burst into the delicate white blossoms of a Bradford pear in the middle of spring.

“My powers are fine,” she said.

“Let's try it again. Maybe it's the portal and it's corrected itself now. We'll go through together.” Persephone linked arms with her again. “Ready? One—two—three!” The goddesses walked to the glowing sphere. Persephone moved through it easily, but Venus's arm was wrenched from hers as the Goddess of Love, once again, seemed to have walked into a glass wall.

“Fornicating satyrs and their furry balls!” Venus cried in frustration. “What by all the levels of the Underworld is wrong with this goddess-be-damned thing?” But even as she cursed and paced a thought tickled at her mind…a thought that took her back to Lola's restaurant and the ladies' room and a simple invocation that had unexpectedly pulled at her soul—

“The invocation! I answered the invocation and agreed to give Pea my aid,” she told Persephone as the goddess reappeared from the portal.

“So? We've been answering invocations for eons. That never stopped us from returning to Olympus.”

“I know, but there's something different at work here. I don't know what for sure yet, but the invocation touched me in a way I've not been touched before.” Venus paused, concentrating. “I'm bound to her!”

“Her?”

“Pea. That's why I've been feeling so odd—they're not my feelings. I've become linked to the mortal!”

“Oh no. Venus, what exactly did the mortal's invocation ask of you?”

“Pea asked that I give her happiness and ecstasy,” Venus said miserably.

“And you agreed? Aloud?”

Venus nodded. “And I remember that I felt something during her invocation—something tugging within me that was compelling me to answer her.” The goddess closed her eyes and shook her head. “I thought I was just experiencing the effects of our lovely martinis, but that wasn't it. It was the invocation itself; it was literal and binding.”

Persephone gasped. “Which means you won't be able to leave this world until you've brought that pathetic mortal happiness and ecstasy.”

“D
on't call her pathetic. She just needs some help,” Venus said
automatically.

“Well, she certainly has it now.”

“Yes, she does.” Venus drew herself up, straightening her elegant spine and lifting her perfect chin. “I am Goddess of Love. I can certainly bring happiness and ecstasy to a mortal—modern or not.”

“Venus, you don't know anything about modern mortals.”

“What possible difference does that make? I know love, and love is timeless.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Go to Pea, of course.” Thinking, Venus began to brighten. “She'll need a complete makeover—new clothes, hair, attitude, everything. Actually, it'll be fun
and
I'll be performing a good deed.”

Persephone looked doubtful.

“Once I've made her over I'll take her out and give her a few simple lessons on how to seduce men, and she'll be able to experience all the happiness and ecstasy she desires.”

“And how are you going to find her?”

Venus stopped and thought for a moment, then smiled. “We're bound together, remember? I know where she is right now.” The goddess pointed toward Midtown Tulsa. “Pea is there.”

Persephone let out a very ungoddessly snort. “Of course she's there.
There
is a big area.”

“Don't be so droll. I meant that I can feel exactly where she is. I can will myself to her doorstep if I wish.” Venus laughed lightly. “It's not like I'm here with no powers.”

“No, but if I don't give you these it'll be worse than having no powers—you'll have no money.” Persephone dug into her purse and pulled out a thick wallet. She flipped it open. “Okay, remember how I paid for things today? These”—she ran a manicured nail down a row of neatly placed plastic—“are credit cards. Think of them as you would bars of gold, only these won't run out—they have no limit. Remember to sign the slip of paper the clerk gives you and be sure to get the card back after you've made the purchase. Oh, wait. Let me fix them first.” Persephone clicked her fingers and the name on the cards changed from Persephone Santoro to Venus Smith.

“Why do I have to have such an average-sounding name?”

Persephone rolled her eyes. “How's this?” She clicked her fingers again, and the embossed name changed to Venus Pontia, which means “born of the sea.”

“Much better.”

“Now please pay attention and stop complaining. This”—she opened a compartment, exposing a thick wad of neatly placed bills—“is cash.”

“I know how to use coins,” Venus said.

Thunder rumbled overhead and the goddesses glanced up.

“Zeus?” Venus asked.

“No, you really don't have to worry about him here. What you're hearing is an authentic Oklahoma thunderstorm, which really shouldn't be happening in February, but with Oklahoma weather you never really know what to expect.”

“You should go before it begins raining,” Venus said.

“I don't know…. I don't like leaving you here.”

“I'll be perfectly fine. I've traversed the ancient world. I can certainly navigate my way around the Kingdom of Tulsa.”

“It's not a kingdom.”

“I was just testing to be certain you're listening.”

Persephone rolled her eyes again. “Don't tell anyone besides Pea who you really are. Oh, and you'll have to perform some magic to convince Pea that you're not a raving madwoman.”

Venus frowned.

“You're not in the ancient world anymore. No one believes in us here. That's usually a good thing. For you, stuck here, it could be a very bad thing if you act too eccentric.”

“By Hera's freezing tits I am not eccentric!” At Persephone's knowing expression Venus held her hands up in mock surrender. “What? The curses? Do you mean the curses?”

“You really should try to stop using them.”

“I don't see why,” she muttered.

“Would you please just trust me on this one? You need to fit in because you can't fulfill the invocation oath from the psychiatric ward of a hospital.”

Venus's smooth brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Just try to keep a low profile. Follow Pea's lead. She'll help you.”

“I'll be perfectly fine,” Venus repeated, giving her a gentle push toward the portal. “Go on. You don't want to make Demeter angry.”

“All right.” Persephone moved reluctantly to the portal.

“If anyone asks after me I prefer you tell them I'm vacationing in the modern world.”

“Don't worry. This is no one's business but yours.” Before Persephone stepped through the glowing sphere she said, “Oh, and go easy on questioning people about how often they masturbate and whether they look at their genitals. Modern mortals don't usually share that information with strangers.”

As Persephone and the glowing orb disappeared, Venus muttered, “They don't talk about masturbation and their genitals? No wonder this world needs my aid.”

At that moment the sky opened and belched cold February rain upon the Goddess of Love.

 

Venus materialized in the shadow of the large oak in Pea's front yard. She'd been right when she told Persephone she'd have no problem finding Pea. It was like the little mortal was drawing her with an unbreakable chain, which was a good thing because it saved Venus from searching all over Tulsa in a nasty storm to find her. As it was, she was thoroughly miserable: shivering, wet and totally disgruntled. In retrospect Venus realized that she could have commanded the raindrops not to touch her, but wouldn't that be engaging in the kind of eccentric behavior Persephone had warned her against? Or did that just apply to genital issues? It was all so confusing. What she knew for sure was that Pea's little house looked warm and inviting with its wide front porch and its lights blazing cheerfully.
Well
, she reminded herself,
this is my mortal. The woman who invoked my aid. There's no need for me to be hesitant. She should be overjoyed to welcome me as her guest.
Holding that thought, Venus ran through the mud puddles to Pea's porch, thankful the generous roof held off the horrid cold rain. She took a moment to toss her hair back, knowing that even though it was wet, it still looked slick and sexy. She did grimace briefly when she glanced down at the silk knit sweater that was peppered with unattractive rain spots and her exquisite new black crocodile boots that were muddy and wet. At least the clothing Persephone had called jeans held up well in the torrential downpour. The Goddess of Love pinched her cheeks, chasing away the cold paleness that had lodged there, and put a brilliant smile on her face. Then she knocked on Pea's door.

Maniacal barking practically vibrated the walls. What type of beast did Pea own? Cerberus? One could only imagine. The door cracked and Venus recognized the frizzy tufts of Pea's out-of-control hair. Had the girl not taken her advice and purchased the coconut oil?

“Yes? Who is it?”

“It is I!” Venus proclaimed. When the mortal didn't respond she added, “Venus, Goddess of Love.” When she still didn't respond she said, “Your goddess. Remember? You invoked me at the restaurant.”

“I have my phone in my hand and my finger on the quick dial nine-one-one button, which I can push any second.”

Venus's brows drew together. “That sounds lovely, darling. Could you do that while I'm inside, too? It's rather wet out here.”

“What do you want?”

Venus stifled a frustrated sigh. “To fulfill your desire for happiness and ecstasy, of course. Didn't we already discuss this?”

“How did you find me?”

“Well, that's an interesting story. I believe that your invocation and my acceptance of it has somehow bound us together. You drew me here—so here I am.”

“I'm really sorry, but I think you should go away.”

Venus suddenly felt very near tears again and her words broke on an unexpected sob. “But it's cold out here and I don't know where else to go.”

The crack in the door got bigger. Venus could see that Pea's hair was down and in wild disarray all around her shoulders. And, worse, she was wearing some kind of nightwear that was a sweet pink color, but was also one piece and had feet attached to it. The Goddess of Love decided it made the mortal looked prepubescent.

“Don't cry,” Pea said.

“I'm not.” Venus sniffed and wiped her eyes. “It's just that nothing has gone the way I planned today, including you.”

“Okay. You can come in. If you say you won't mug and kill me.”

“I don't know what ‘mug' means, but it doesn't sound polite. And I certainly don't want to harm you, let alone kill you.”

“Well, then you can come in,” Pea said reluctantly. Standing aside Pea ushered her into the foyer of the neat little bungalow.

Relieved, Venus stepped into warmth that smelled like baking ambrosia. Then an angry ball of rather chubby black fur growled furiously at her.

“Manners, Chloe!” Pea said sternly.

Chloe growled again and barked a warning.

Venus laughed. “With all that voice you must be as mighty as Cerberus!”

At the sound of the goddess's musical laughter, Chloe stopped growling.

“What a passionate girl!” She squatted down in front of the dog and then glanced up at Pea. “Did you say her name is Chloe?”

“Yes, but be careful. She doesn't like strangers.”

“Well, that's just fine because Love is never a stranger. Am I right, Chloe my darling?” Venus cooed, stretching out her hand to the dog. Chloe sniffed delicately at her, and her tail started to thump. Just then a large gray tabby padded delicately into the room. “Oh, and what a handsome beast you are!” Venus said.

“That's Max,” Pea said as the cat began twining his body around her unexpected houseguest. “He loves everyone.”

“You needn't explain that to me,” Venus said happily, running one hand down the cat's body in a long caress while she scratched Chloe's ears with the other. “Love recognizes one of her own.” When she finally stood up to face Pea, both animals curled contentedly at her feet. “Good evening, Pea. Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

“Are you lost? Can I call someone for you?”

“No, but that is a kind offer. You're really a very compassionate young woman, aren't you?”

“But if you're not lost then—”

“I'm not lost, Pea. I am trapped here.”

“Trapped? Here? You mean in my house?”

“No, I mean in your world.” At Pea's blank look Venus tried to explain. “The world of modern mortals. I used to call it the Kingdom of Tulsa, but Persephone explained to me that this isn't literally a kingdom—it's a city.”

“Persephone? The goddess?”

“Of course.”

“And is she outside in the rain, too?”

“Oh, no. She was able to return to Olympus. It's only me who was unable to go back through the portal.”

“So you don't live here?”

Venus frowned. “Of course not, darling. I have a perfectly lovely temple on Mount Olympus. I was here visiting. I bought these fabulous boots.” She pointed a toe so Pea could admire her new acquisition. “They did look better before they got wet and muddy.”

Pea clutched on the one normal thing the woman had said. “Why don't you take your boots off and let them dry? I'll get you a towel and something warm to drink and then we can figure out what to…” She paused, obviously struggling to find the right thing to say. “To do to help you.”

“But that's just it! It's not what you can do to help me, but what I can do to help you—
then
I'll be able to return to Olympus and the ancient world of the gods.”

“How about we start with a towel and some hot chocolate?”

“Sounds divine.”

Venus pulled off her boots while Chloe and Max watched with open adoration and Pea brought her a thick pink towel that smelled delightfully of lavender. Then she led Venus into a cozy kitchen that was brightly lit and immaculate. Venus sat at the little antique breakfast table that was hand painted with wildflowers.

“I was just making myself some hot chocolate. It'll only take me a second to add to it so there'll be enough for both of us.”

Venus towel dried her hair while she watched Pea move confidently around the room. “You are an excellent cook, aren't you?”

Surprised at the observation, Pea smiled at Venus over her shoulder while she continued to stir the milk and dark chocolate mixture. “Yes, I am a good cook.”

“And your home is so lovely and comfortable. I can already see that you use colors wisely to make it feel open and welcoming.”