Lost Goddess : A Novel (9781101554340) by Knox Tom

Lost Goddess : A Novel (9781101554340) by Knox Tom

Author:Knox, Tom [Knox, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781101554340
Publisher: Penguin USA
Published: 2012-02-01T16:00:00+00:00


22

The head was floating. Another floating woman’s head, with a funereal veil of black gauze, or was it hair? The head was disembodied by the dark, and it was sucking him, sucking his penis, Kali Kra, white-toothed and drooling, fanged and desirous, with her two tongues black and blood-red, licking his erection, painfully, exquisitely, making him cry out.

He didn’t want the woman, the witch, the spider witch, the apsara, to stop; surely it was Chemda who was blowing him, giving him pleasure, waking him with fellatio once again: and it was beautiful. Jake fought the beautiful feeling in his dreams, he was half awake now, yes, he could see her, it was Chemda’s head above his groin in the darkness of the shuttered room above the krama shop in old Siem Reap.

“Chemda, Chemda…” He wanted real sex. Penetration. He grasped her head, lifted it from his erection, and she looked up, and her eyes flashed and smiled, and it was his mother, sucking him. His mother, smiling.

He woke with a myoclonic jerk, rigid with horror. Properly awake this time. It was just a dream, a lucid dream. He shuddered and looked around. The day had barely dawned: ladders of pale and unfading blue showed the slatted shutters of Sonisoy’s apartment.

Where was Chemda?

Jake swept a hand across the empty bed.

“Chemda…” He could sense the fragments of the dream fleeing him, yet he kept seeing the image of his mother, a head, disembodied, blood dripping from somewhere, the image of Kali, the Mother of Dissolution.

“Hello.”

Chemda had walked into the room. She was dressed, and frowning.

“Chemda. Are you OK?”

She shrugged.

“Couldn’t really sleep. Ah. Not after hearing that about my father. We talked, me and Sonisoy.” Her hands were hovering on her hips, impatient or wary—like a Western sharpshooter approaching a gunfight. “He wants us to see something in Angkor Wat, to tell us something.”

“And?”

“We’re gonna meet downstairs in ten minutes. Pack everything.”

Obedient, he threw a towel over his shoulder and walked to the bathroom. He really needed a shower.

Chemda loitered by the door, watching him, looking at his nakedness as he walked. And lust flashed for a second in that gaze, he saw it: fleshly hunger. Kali, the devourer, with her seven black tongues.

She waved a dark hand at the bathroom.

“Please, Jake, we need to be quick—”

“I thought you said we’d be safe here. For a night.”

“I did—I thought we would—until I heard that about my father. Now I wonder: Is my whole family cursed, do they want us all dead? I don’t know. But this means everything is worse than we imagined—”

“Let’s get to Thailand!”

“But first I want to hear Sonisoy’s story. Then we go to Thailand.”

“But what about Sonisoy?”

“He’d have turned us in by now, if he was with them. I told you. I trust him more than anyone. Apart from you.” Her eyes fixed on his. She continued: “Quick, ah, please, be quick. Sonisoy will take us to Angkor. Ten minutes.”

It took him two minutes: shower, towel, clothes, socks, boots.



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