The Reluctant Goddess (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 2) (23 page)

I kept reading.
 

A Dirugu can eat food like a normal human
. The only difference was I never got the intestinal problems I had occasionally encountered when I ate bread.
A Dirugu can walk in the sun
. I’d developed that talent after the first month.

The reading was slow going, not because it was dense or philosophical, but because every once in a while I’d stop, stare off into space, and consider what was written and if it applied to me.
 

I knew something else that wasn’t listed and that few people knew about a Dirugu. A female Dirugu, and I was only assuming there were male Dirugus at this point, had a menstrual cycle. Ergo, it was probably possible to become pregnant.

That made Maddock a definite danger. He had it in his mind that if I gave birth to a child of his, he could subsequently feed on it and develop all of the talents I’d acquired. I couldn’t help the cartoon like vision of a baby transformed into a ham.

I would die before I’d allow that to happen.

I stared down at my wrists. Maybe the noble, the honorable thing, would be to slit my wrists and completely die this time. But I was selfish in that regard. I wanted to live. I wanted to fix my life. I wanted to be happy. I wanted not to be conflicted for once. I wanted to come to grips with everything that had happened, understand it, accept it, and go on with my life.
 

I pulled myself away from the edge of the fear abyss and made myself keep reading.
 

There was a time foretold by the ancients when all creatures would be combined, when mankind would have the strength of beasts and the ability to command the spirit. A Dirugu, the embodiment of vampire, human, and witch, would unite them and will be worshipped as a god.
 

Oh no. No. Just no.
 

I leaned my head back against the chaise, closed my eyes, and said a little prayer.
 

My prayer wasn’t formed, more an amorphous wish to deal with what I’d just read while remaining semi-sane and healthy.
 

Who said that greatness was thrust upon certain people? Was it Churchill? I would have to look that up. I know one thing, even if I couldn't remember who’d said that. I wasn't the type to be the savior of mankind. I was human. Okay, maybe I wasn't human, but I was fallible. I made mistakes and they were doozies. I was occasionally unkind and I laughed at the wrong moments. And I wanted so much more than seemed possible.
 

I wasn’t the goddess type.
 

Charlie whined beside me. I opened my eyes and smiled at him.
 

“I’ve been ignoring you, haven’t I?” I scratched him between the ears. “Are you hungry?” I didn’t know when they fed the dogs in the kennel. Was it twice a day or only once?
 

As he grinned back at me I realized that I couldn’t let him go. I just couldn’t.
 

"Seriously, Charlie, how much is one person supposed to take, anyway? Not only did I wake up a vampire, but not just any vampire. I'm a super duper special kind. I'm able to leap tall buildings in a single bound." I glanced down at him. "Do you think I have a lariat of truth? Special wrist bracelets? At the very least I should glow in the dark.”
 

He put his chin on my knee.
 

“You're such a sweetie," I said. "You're such a good dog, aren't you?"
 

I swung my legs off to the side, putting the pages back into the envelope. I would read the rest in a little while. I needed to assimilate the information in manageable chunks.

“I’m sure as hell not a goddess.”
 

Charlie only grinned at me again.
 

Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed the number the vet had given Dan. Maybe it was a function of becoming a vampire, but I didn't have any problem remembering numbers. I could recite the VIN number of the rental car that had been totaled, the numbers on the invoices I’d seen on Mr. Brown’s counter, Unfortunately, I could recall the man's name and number with ease.

Richard Tremblay. I wondered if he went by the name Dick. Was he a dick?

I sincerely hoped not.

As the phone rang, I envisioned a man who would be overjoyed by Charlie's return. He would be grateful to me for rescuing his lost dog and would even offer to pay me a reward to show his gratitude.

He’d tell me a charming story about how Charlie had come to be named Stupid, something that would acquit him well. He would tell me how his children loved their dog and had grieved for his loss.

Better yet, he would tell me that he was tired of the dog, that he was thrilled his dog had found a new home. In response, I’d give him a reward and we’d sign an agreement that Charlie was mine.
 

Instead, I got Super Dick. That was okay. I was prepared.
 

"Yeah, the vet said you had him," Super Dick said after I introduced myself and explained why I was calling. "Be a good thing to get Stupid back in the house. I got him for my daughter and she decided she wanted a cat, so I was stuck with him. Good thing the vet called when he did. I was about ready to get another cat. But a man needs a dog, you know?"

No, I didn't know.

"Is that why you named him Stupid?"
 

I tried to make my voice sound as nonjudgmental as possible, but I’m sure some of my irritation must've seeped in between the words, because his attitude immediately changed from good old boy to malevolent old boy.

"He looks stupid. Some dogs just do."

I didn't like the man, but I’d been predisposed to dislike him, so I discounted my feelings.

"I'll pay you for him," I said. “Since it sounds like you don't want him anyway.”
 

I named a dollar amount that I thought was fair, but to tell you the truth, I was more than willing to increase it.

"Nah," he said. "It'll be something for my kids to play with when they visit."

Couldn't he just get his daughter a Barbie or something?

"How about if I increase the amount?"

"You sure are taken with that dog. Too bad he's mine, not yours."

I didn’t look at Charlie. I couldn’t bear to see his grinning, happy face when I was talking to his idiot owner.

I offered a higher amount, but all Super Dick did was laugh, a curious sound that had the hair at the back of my neck standing on end.

"No," he said. "I want to get him back as soon as possible. Where are you? I'll come and get him now."

"That wouldn't be convenient," I said. "In fact, I may not be able to make arrangements for a few days."

I closed my eyes and concentrated.
You will surrender the dog to me. You will want the dog to stay with me. You don’t want the bother of a dog.

"That's stealing," he said. "I wonder how the cops would feel about that? He's not yours. He belongs to me."

This was not going how I planned it.

 
Why wasn’t he affected by my compelling him? Was Super Dick something other than human? I really needed to start categorizing people, finding out what they were.
 

He was right. Charlie didn't belong to me. Nor was there anything I could think of to do about the situation. I had Dan pushing me on one side to do the right thing and Super Dick on the other.

Sometimes life wasn't fair. I'd already figured that out on my own. But did I have to make Charlie aware of it, too? I made arrangements to meet with Super Dick the following day. I was shaking by the time I hung up the phone.
 

Stupid man.
 

I bent my head, kissed Charlie between the ears and wrapped my arms around him. I hadn’t given up, but I wasn’t feeling all that hopeful. Maybe when I met with Super Dick, he’d change his mind.
 

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”
 

Long moments later I looked up. I was getting that feeling again, the same one I’d had in my apartment. I was too old to get the heebie jeebies. Besides, I was a badass goddess or something.
 

“Is somebody here?”
 

Nothing like feeling stupid by talking to the empty room. No witches, vampires, or insane mothers appeared.

Maybe it was only my conscience whispering to me.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-T
HREE

Bye bye baby, baby bye bye

Instead of the Rolls, I persuaded Dan to use a less ostentatious car. He picked a Mercedes, a model I only knew by sight. Where had the Jeep and the Ford truck gone?
 

I’d agreed to meet Super Dick in the parking lot of Doug's on the corner of I-35 and O'Connor. Doug’s was a chain of coffee shops dating back to the fifties. Through the years they’d all gotten a facelift, but the decor was the same: orange and brown.
 

Nonnie and I had gone to Doug’s many Sundays for pancake and waffle brunch. Every time I smelled their distinctive maple syrup I was thrown back into the past, when I had to put my arms up to reach the table but declined a booster seat out of principle.
 

This restaurant was closer to Super Dick’s house than the castle, but I didn't mind the drive. The longer I had with Charlie, the better.

I spent most of the trip apologizing.

Mike caught my glance more then once in the rearview mirror. Dan, in the backseat with me, didn’t say anything, but he scratched Charlie from time to time and gave me a quick look when I got silent.
 

I was already grieving.
 

In another world, and another time, when I was still an insurance adjuster, such a thing might have struck me as idiotic and asinine. But I hadn’t been as open back then as I was now. I wasn’t as willing to love, either. Maybe I would never have given a stray dog another thought.
 

Strange, to realize that something good had come from becoming a vampire. Even stranger, to wonder if the coldness in our relationship was all on Bill’s part.
 

Had I somehow learned to close myself off from people?
 

Having a mother who really didn’t give a flying flip if I was around had been difficult at first. I’d gradually realized that that’s the way it was and feeling sorry for myself didn’t do anything about the situation.
 

I loved Nonnie all my life, but I never got a sense that she would save me from my mother. She was a temporary respite, a vacation from my life, but nothing else.
 

Maybe I’d loved my mother, but I was also wary of her. Somewhere along the line, the love I wanted to feel for her transformed into the respect a child is supposed to give an elder. Even that disappeared after time. The minute I could get out of her house, I did. I never went back there feeling as if I were coming home.
 

I learned to be self-sufficient.

I learned that love was like flowers. You truly enjoy them when you bought them, put them in a vase, and displayed them in the living room. Your apartment looked better with flowers. The world looked better with flowers, but when they died, when you put them in the trash and went back to your flowerless life, that was okay, too.

I suddenly wanted flowers in my life. I wanted not just a vase of flowers but a garden. Something else I wanted: I wanted someone to think I was their flower. I wanted to make someone else’s life better.
 

Marcie the Mum.
 

Maybe Charlie was just a dog, a heroic dog. Maybe he and I had just bonded in the woods that night. Whatever it was, I’d come to love him. And now I had to give him up.
 

A logical person would say that I’d no right to assume he would always remain with me. I’d found him, but I hadn’t made any effort to find his family, including taking him to a vet to see if he had an implanted chip.

But I wasn’t being logical about Charlie. I didn’t want to be logical about Charlie.
 

We pulled into the parking lot. Dan started to open the door and I shook my head.
 

“No,” I said. “I have to do this by myself.”
 

Charlie was my responsibility. All mine. Giving him up had to be something I did alone, too.
 

I got out of the car and Charlie followed me. Ever since that first night, I’d never really needed to use a collar and leash with him. He just fell into step beside me.
 

A man got out of a beat up red pickup and stood at the tailgate, staring at me.
 

Super Dick was exactly the way I’d pictured him. Of average height, he had a muscular build gone to beer fat. His belly cascaded over his belt to protect his groin.
 

I’ve never understood why men didn’t measure their real girth instead of buying belts based on a
wish I was
size.