Goddess of Love

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“W hat do you want on your name tag?”

The woman looked up at him expectantly. Vulcan stared silently down at her.

“You know, who you're pretending to be tonight,” she prompted.

“I am Vulcan,” he said.

“Let's see.” She tapped the capped end of the Sharpie against the table. “Vulcan was supposed to be God of Fire, right?”

“Correct.”

“Yeah, I kicked ass in my mythology class last semester. Hey – I think there's another God of Fire here, too. You'd think y'all would've called each other to make sure you don't have the same costumes.” She giggled a little. “Anyway, careful you don't clash. You could burn the place down, and that would be embarrassing with all you firemen here.”

She grinned at her own joke and handed him a name tag with Hello, my name is GOD OF FIRE

printed boldly in black marker. Following what the others had done, Vulcan put it on his chest and then he moved slowly into the large, crowded restaurant, already feeling relieved that the lighting was low enough that if he was careful no one would notice his limp – or at least Venus wouldn't. He'd waited until she and Pea had found a table near the dance floor in the main room before he entered, though it had been hard to keep his eye on them through the press of costumed people. Normally he would have hated a crowd like this, but tonight was markedly different. He kept reminding himself no one knew who he was. It seemed true; no one stared and pointed at him. There were no gods or goddesses silently laughing at him, and no mortals cowering away from him in fear. For at least this one night he was accepted; no different than any other mortal man. It was, as Venus and Persephone had already observed, an amazingly freeing experience. Unconsciously he relaxed his usually too-rigid posture, allowing his arms to swing free and his body to move with an ease he rarely experienced outside his personal realm. His limp became less awkward. Had he been able to observe himself, he would have been shocked to see a tall, broad shouldered man who exuded power. His thick, dark hair, which he wore short because of the heat in his realm, usually evoked disdainful looks from the golden-maned Olympians. Here he fit in perfectly amongst the firemen and their military hair cuts. He wore a half mask that was the warm color of a candle's flame, and only the blue of his eyes, his lips and the firm, square line of jaw were left visible.

“Hey handsome,” purred a woman who ran a quick finger down his bronze breastplate. She was dressed in a short black skirt and matching black sweater that sparkled with tiny threads of glittering silver. Her sweater was unbuttoned low enough that the red of her bra was exposed, along with her generous breasts. Her mask was also red, as were the horns on her head and her wild, shoulder length hair. Her name tag read, Hello, my name is SATAN. Vulcan had to force himself not to jump back in surprise at her touch.

“God of Fire, huh? You can light my fire anytime, baby.” She moaned breathily.

“I'll keep that in mind, Satan,” he surprised himself by saying with a smile. The woman licked her reddened lips and smiled coquettishly before allowing the crowd to wash her from his side as the tide of people headed to the dance floor. The mortal woman had flirted with him! No one knew who he was. Logically he'd realized it before then; he'd even repeated the fact to himself as he moved through the restaurant. But he hadn't really known it until the moment the woman had spoken to him. It was enough to make him throw back his head and shout with happiness for the first time in his long life!

With growing confidence, he met several of the other mortal women's eyes. Not one of them turned away from him in disgust. Not one of them cringed in fear. One of them actually winked at him. The others smiled invitations. Even through their masks he could easily read their interest. His heart thudded with newly discovered excitement. If those women – those indiscriminate mortals who he had never spoken to, but who clearly were showing interest in him – if those women could find him desirable, then did it not stand to reason that Pea might desire him, too?

Vulcan moved to stand against the wall, just another in a long line of costumed, virile men. When the harried waitress took his order he repeated what the man standing nearest to him had asked for, a Boulevard Wheat Beer. As he sipped the brew, which was actually rather tasty, a little like satyr winter ale only less sweet, he focused his attention on Pea and Venus. Using the invisible thread of fire to amplify his already divine hearing, he listened and waited.

“Oh. My. God! This is so much fun!” Pea sipped her pomegranate martini and nibbled at the sweet chili roasted pecans their waitress, Jenny, had brought them.

“Oh. My. Goddess would be so much more appropriate,” Venus corrected.

“Sorry, you're right. We're goddesses. I should get the words right.”

Venus smiled indulgently at her little mortal friend. “Don't be too hard on yourself. I've had an eternity to get used to it. You're doing very well for your first night as a deity. To us – goddesses inside and out!” Venus and Pea tapped their frosted martini glasses together. “And what is this divine music? I've never heard anything like it.”

“The band is the Full Flava Kings. They specialize in oldies. Right now they're singing something called classic Motown. Totally danceable and utterly fantastic.” Automatically, Pea's body moved to the sounds of “The Way You Do the Things You Do,” and she sang along with the chorus.

“You should dance,” Venus said, smiling appreciatively at the sinuous way Pea's lithe body swayed to the music.

“Oh, no. I don't dance.”

Venus laughed. “Of course you do. You said you've been taking lessons since you were a child.”

“That's different.” Pea lowered her voice and looked around nervously. “That's dance class.”

“So you don't really like to dance?”

“I love to dance,” Pea said quickly. “But that kind of dancing.” She jerked her chin at the crowded dance floor. “Is different.”

“You need to relax and trust your body. Believe me. Love is an expert on bodies. That kind of dancing is exactly what you need.”

Pea opened her mouth to argue with Venus, but a male voice interrupted her.

“Beautiful Goddess, would you honor me with a dance?”

Pea and Venus looked from each other to the masked man who stood in front of their table. He was dressed all in black – black leather pants, black silk shirt, black cape and mask. And he appeared to have a rapier in a sheath at his hip. His name tag read: Hello, my name is ZORRO. Venus arched a brow, a movement that was lost behind her mask, but the slight upward curve of her full lips was unmistakable. He was certainly tall and well formed. His jaw line was firm. His manners appeared to be passable. Yes, he might do for a start.

“Hi, Zorro,” Pea said brightly.

The man hardly glanced in her direction. He had eyes only for Venus. The goddess frowned.

“Dance with me, lovely Venus,” he said.

No, this wouldn't do at all. She wanted Pea to dance. She had been frolicking with men for centuries. It was second nature to her. Tonight it was Pea's turn.

“Go ahead,” Pea said, with a little too much enthusiasm. “I'll be fine waiting right here.”

Venus looked at Pea, easily seeing through her masks – the physical one she wore tonight and the emotional one she'd worn for too much of her life. Pea was used to waiting in the shadows while others danced…loved…lived. Not tonight, Venus promised herself. And with a sudden inspiration the Goddess of Love opened her mouth and belched like a Greek sailor. The masked man drew back half a step.

Venus waved her hand in front of her mouth. “Whew! I think I've had too much to drink! And those pecans were certainly better going down.” While Pea and the costumed man were averting their eyes in embarrassment, Venus surreptitiously wiggled her fingers at Zorro. She didn't bespell him – she wouldn't do that to Pea. The mortal had been right about not catching a man with magic. Pea deserved to capture a man who was truly attracted to her on her own, by her own merit. All Venus did was to divinely erase any interest he had in her, thereby allowing his attention to shift to an alternative “goddess.”

He blinked, for a moment clearly disconcerted, but quickly recovered. With a flourish of his cape he bowed to Pea.

“Aphrodite, your sister goddess is not interested in the dance. Don't break my heart by saying you aren't, either.”

“She wouldn't think of it,” Venus said, giving Pea a sly shove under the table.

“But I…” Pea began.

“You are a goddess,” Venus said. “And goddesses dance.” She met Pea's eyes within the sparkling mask. “Trust me,” she said softly. “And trust yourself.”

“Okay. Well. I'd love to dance. Thank you.” Pea took the masked man's offered hand and let him lead her to the crowded dance floor.

Venus smiled happily as she watched Pea begin to move with the beat of the music. The little mortal really was very graceful. And, of course, she had been right. As soon as Pea started to dance her natural ability and years of training took over. Even from her table Venus could see that Pea was singing to the music and having a wonderful time. The song changed to something called “Brick House,” and even more people surged onto the dance floor. Venus saw Pea begin to swim through the crowd back to her, and she quickly blew a dusting of desire onto one of the toga-dressed men who lined the wall behind her. Instantly he intercepted Pea. Venus met Pea's gaze and nodded an enthusiastic yes for her to keep dancing, but even while Pea moved back onto the floor and began gyrating to the new song, Venus could feel her reticence. And she realized the problem. Pea was worried about her! She knew what it felt like to be left behind – to be the one not asked. Pea would probably only dance once more, and then she'd insist that she return to the table and sit with Venus.

The solution seemed simple. Venus should just dance. All she had to do was to meet the gaze of any of the many men who had been throwing her appreciative looks and he would rush over and beg to be allowed to escort her to the dance floor.

The goddess sighed. If she did she knew what would happen. It had happened for countless ages. She would draw the desire of the men in the crowd like candlelight beckons moths. The other women in the room – including Pea – would seem pale and lacking when compared to love incarnate, and then where would they be? Back to Pea not getting enough attention. She supposed she could scatter around some of her divine magic, directing it to dim her allure, but she knew how difficult it was to camouflage love. And if she left, went back to Pea's home, the child would certainly follow her. She tapped her finger against her martini glass. What, by the moon-colored globes of Diana's firm buttocks, was she supposed to do?

“That was a nice thing you did for your friend.”

The deep voice instantly refocused Venus's attention. The man was dressed in what she was pretty sure was supposed to be a facsimile of an ancient Roman officer's uniform. Of course the modern mortal had missed the mark. What he wore was entirely too pretty, but even as she observed the unauthentic details she was taking in his long, strong legs, wide shoulders, and the sensuous lips that quirked with just the right touch of self-humor beneath the mask. Then she read his name tag and she couldn't contain her smile.

“I'm sorry, God of Fire, I have no idea to what you're referring.”

“The belch. You did that on purpose so the Zorro guy would ask your friend to dance instead of you, didn't you?”

Venus pulled her gaze from his beautiful lips and looked up to meet blue eyes in a red mask that was tied over thick, dark hair. Those eyes…

The Goddess of Love felt the jolt of recognition all the way through her suddenly flushing body. It was Griffin!

She glanced out at the dance floor before speaking. Thankfully Pea's back was to her. She should order him away before Pea recognized him. Venus looked up at Griffin. He was watching her with a simmering heat in those brilliant blue eyes that turned the red mask predatory, and it was clear that she was his prey.

Men simply did not look at the Goddess of Love like that. They showed more respect, more fear, more worship. It was inappropriate of him. It was also terribly exciting. Purposefully she didn't speak. Instead she flipped her long hair back over her shoulder. Then she took a sip of her martini. She expected him to do the male equivalent of a woman's fidget – to fill the silence between them with the ceaseless, self-involved monologues so many men used to cover any hint of masculine embarrassment. That would certainly lessen his appeal. But he didn't babble self-indulgently. He continued to trap her with his unwavering gaze and his patient, confident silence.

“You're very perceptive,” she finally said.

“It comes from having four sisters. And you didn't answer my question.”

“No, I didn't. Four sisters and how many brothers?”

“None. Just the sisters.”

Venus smiled. “Are you the eldest?”

“Unfortunately.”

His tone made her laugh and, as if her amusement had directed it, “Brick House” moved smoothly into an alluring song about a place called “Baker Street.” Over Griffin's shoulder, Venus could see Pea, with a look of determination on her attractively flushed face, beginning to make her way through the dance floor back to the table, even though the man with whom she had been dancing was clearly trying to coax her into staying.

“Come on, my goddess. You need some air.” Griffin tucked her hand into his elbow, and before she could make any kind of protest at being manhandled or at the presumptuous way he had called her my goddess, he began guiding her from the room.

Venus looked back and caught Pea's surprised gaze, quickly pantomiming that she was going outside, and fanned herself like she was overly hot. With a shooing motion, she made it very clear to Pea that she should keep dancing. Pea's partner saw the exchange and seized the opportunity, taking her hand and pulling her back onto the dance floor as Griffin maneuvered Venus through the restaurant's front door.

Outside the night was calm and cool, the moon beautiful and full. Tall, iron trees pumped pools of warmth around the wrought iron tables and chairs that were placed up and down the sidewalk in front of Lola's. A large outdoor oven perfumed the air with the scent of pinion smoke. Small white lights decorated the ornamental trees, casting a magical glow from their winter branches. The band's music could easily be heard outside, and a few costumed couples were dancing on the sidewalk. It was a lovely, romantic scene, and Venus was very aware of the tall man who still had her hand trapped. True, she hadn't tried very hard to disengage herself, which was (she told herself firmly) more at surprise at being touched without her permission than because of the attraction she felt for Griffin.

Of course, she should pull her hand from his arm. His warm, muscular arm.

“Over here,” he said. Not giving her a chance to move away, Griffin guided her to an empty table, pulled a chair back for her, and only then released her hand so that she could sit.

“So, tell me. Why did you want Pea to dance instead of you?” he said as he sat across from her.

“You recognize Pea?” Venus hated the sliver of jealousy she felt. Ridiculous. After all, her intent that night had been to bring Pea to this very man's notice.

“Of course. As soon as I saw you I realized she must be with you. You two were at Lola's the other day, and then day before yesterday you were in the T-Bird together.”

“Again, you're very observant.” She made herself add, with a lie, “And you're clearly interested in my good friend, Pea.” He hadn't been looking at Pea on the dance floor. His attention had been clearly, predatorily, focused on her. “So, we should go back inside so you and Pea can – “

His touch broke off her words as his hand covered hers. “I am not interested in your little friend.”

“You're not?” Venus's mouth felt dry.

“No.” His thumb made a lazy circle on the soft skin of her hand. “And I'm glad you sent Zorro packing. Cutting in on a crowded dance floor like that can cause an ugly scene, and I definitely would have cut in. Scene or no scene.”

Venus's hand tingled where he was touching her. Her stomach clenched. She pulled her hand away from him. “I'm not dancing tonight,” she said abruptly.

“Why not?” He was totally unruffled that she'd pulled away from him. Instead he gave her another slow, steady smile.

Venus opened her mouth to make a flippant remark and found herself thrown off by the way he kept looking at her. Then it hit her, right in the gut. He really has no idea that I'm the Goddess of Love. He's truly seducing me as he would a mortal woman. The thought was so profound that she blurted the truth.

“It's important that my friend bask in attention tonight. When I dance I tend to call attention to myself, especially male attention, so I thought it would be best if I left the dancing to her.”

Even through the mask, she saw his expression shift to surprise. “That's unusually generous of you.”

“You believe that I'm not usually generous?”

As before, he took his time answering her. “Experience has taught me that women who are very beautiful can be callous about others' feelings.”

“That's a cynical point of view.”

He shrugged. “I think it's realistic.”

“Are your sisters very beautiful?”

His lips quirked. “They are.”

“And callous?”

He held up his hands, as if in surrender, and laughed, a sensuous sound Venus felt tickle up and down her spine. “I'll never say that. Instead I'd just say that my beautiful sisters are like all women – complex.”

Venus smiled. “An excellent answer. And you should know that I am Goddess of Love.” She pointed at her name tag, loving the freedom of being able to proclaim it, and at the same time remain unrecognized. “So I speak with authority when I say that Love may seem callous, but usually only to those untouched by her.”

“I recognized you right away, Goddess. Venus is actually my favorite goddess.”

One of her slim brows arched up. “Is she?”

Griffin lifted a shoulder. “Okay, she's the only goddess I know anything about.”

Intrigued, Venus asked, “And what do you know about her?”

“Just the normal stuff. You know, born of the ocean, Goddess of Love and Beauty. That's about it. Anyway I'm interested in what you were saying before. Did you mean that true love is generous, versus the pretenses of love, like lust and infatuation?”

Her smiled was delighted. Not only did he know about her birth, but he'd managed to keep up with her conversation. Too often men, mortal and immortal, did nothing but stare into her eyes, or at her breasts, and let their minds sink down between their legs when they spoke to her. This man was sexy and confident and intelligent – definitely a lethal combination. “Yes, that's exactly what I meant. True love can be differentiated from its imposters by its generosity. Are you always this perceptive about women and love?”

“I think there are a lot of people who would say that I don't usually pay much attention to either.”

“I don't believe that. Not from the brother of four beautiful sisters.”

“Generous and wise,” he said, with a smile, enjoying her insight. “But then, I am in the presence of a goddess.”

“You are, indeed.” Venus inclined her head graciously, enjoying their banter almost as much as she liked the easy way he talked with her, and the predatory way he looked at her. There was nothing submissive or worshipful about Griffin, and she found that refreshing as well as alluring. A tattooed waiter cleared his throat and asked for their order.

“I'll have another lovely pomegranate martini, darling,” Venus said.

“Macallan scotch, straight up.”

The waiter nodded and hurried off, and the music changed again. Venus couldn't stop her body from moving with the rhythmic beat of a song that proclaimed, “It's raining men.” She laughed as all the women on the sidewalk began to dance together, raising their arms and singing loudly to the chorus.

“Go on, dance with them.”

Glancing through the plate-glass restaurant window, Venus found Pea, still buried on the dance floor.

“Pea's fine. Dance for me, Goddess of Love. I'll protect you if anyone can't handle himself.”

Griffin's tone was a clear challenge. Perhaps he should experience a little of the passion Love could evoke.

“I'll remind you later that I warned you.”

He grinned mischievously. “Why not see what Love can do?”

“Yes, darling,” she said with a purr. “Why not?”

Feeling sexy and deliciously decadent, Venus joined the other women. The music entered her body, as it always did, and the goddess let herself go. She danced for Griffin, forgetting Pea's infatuation, forgetting the other people on the sidewalk, forgetting everything except the beat of the music, the glorious magic of the night, and him. Tossing her hair and moving in perfect harmony with the modern music she was graceful and seductive – alluring and adept. The women who danced around her tried to emulate the silk-swathed vision in the blazing mask, drawn by her laughter and beauty. The men stared hungrily at her, especially Griffin. She could feel the heat of his gaze as if his hands were on her, and it made her flush with excitement and anticipation.

Venus danced, and for the first time in her eons of existence she reveled in the fact that no one knew she was anything but a beautiful, frolicking mortal. She didn't have to consider what Love loosened would mean to Griffin. He wasn't worshipping a deity. He was simply ogling a beautiful, mortal woman. When the song ended, Venus collapsed against the other women, and they all laughed breathlessly.

The tempo of the music changed. The lead singer of the band began to croon, “Thanks for the times that you've given me. The memories are all in my mind….”

“Dance with me.”

Venus looked up, and Griffin was there. His blue eyes seemed to blaze with the intensity of his fiery mask. He didn't wait for her answer. Without another word he pulled her roughly into his arms. One hand took hers – the other pressed firmly against the small of her back, holding her body against his.

Venus let him claim her. She had never allowed herself to be led by any man, but Griffin masterfully guided her away from the others, melding her body to his and moving them in seductive time to the music until they were dancing alone under a tree in a mixed pool of twinkling light and shadows.

No one had ever taken her in his arms without her permission or by her express command. No one. Neither man nor god, in all the eons of her existence, had touched her without her approval. Until now. Venus couldn't believe how incredibly seductive it was. She met his eyes and let the crackling intensity of sexual chemistry sizzle between them.

She wanted him.

The thought surprised her. Then she was shocked by her surprise. By the overused phallus of Neptune! Why shouldn't she allow herself the indulgence of this delicious man? Why not give in to this seductive game of pretending to be mortal?

Because Pea desires him drifted through her mind. But Griffin had made it clear that he didn't desire Pea. So why deny herself such a virile lover? It didn't make sense. And, surely, Pea would understand. Pea wouldn't continue to be interested in a man who so clearly wasn't interested in her. Besides, how long had it been since she truly paid attention to her own desires?

Venus knew the answer. For centuries she had fallen into the habit of seeing to the needs of others – of answering the heartfelt prayers of others – of ignoring her own desires. She even knew when the habit had started. It had begun with her marriage to poor, solitary Vulcan. What an abysmal mistake that had been.

And the thought struck her that perhaps Pea wasn't the only one whose life needed a makeover.