He’d get better and then I’d barge in, pretending that I needed something. I wasn’t going to do it while he couldn’t bitch at me about it. That just seemed very un-sportsman-like. Yes, that was it.
"How the fuck am I going to get you up the stairs Scooter?"
I didn’t expect an answer, so the one that came drifting down the stairs startled me.
"Use your damned nanite strength, you nitwit!"
"If I knew how to use my nanite strength, don’t you think I’d be up the stairs by now, you crotchety old goat?"
"Your brains must be in your boobs. I can’t believe your mother wasted an egg on you," floated the reply.
My eyes narrowed as I tried to suppress the anger at this total nincompoop. What did he know? The anger was starting to win, my arms and legs started tingling and the ground rumbled a few times.
"Crap," I bit out.
The last thing we needed was an earthquake because I couldn’t keep it together. It occurred to me that I had no idea what happened when my brain hadn’t been all there.
Being able to completely stuff your emotions and fears is practical. I wanted to say that I normally didn’t have this ability but what happened upstairs was proof enough and I was going to continue with it for as long as it took me to get this body up the stairs.
Bending down, I grunted and just lifted. It seemed that the nanites decided to take pity on me and help me out on this one. Yay for helpful nanites!
Grunting with each step, I made it up the stairs, completely out of breath.
"You’re out of shape. I thought my son was supposed to be training you."
The tone was gruff but there was a hint of something else in there. Was it worry?
"Well, you know – battle to the death and all kind of wore me out."
"Heh."
"Can you fix Scooter or not?"
"Quit calling him that. That’s a horrible name for such a mighty and terrible beast."
"He answers to Scooter," I cocked an eyebrow at him, daring him to dispute.
"Stupid dog," he grunted out and I smiled because he’d just called Scooter a dog. We were making progress.
"Why are you here?" It was abrupt, but I was figuring that this was as good a time to get information as any. This always worked with Dylan - chances were it would work with him too.
"I had something to tell you."
"Well I’m here," planting my hands on my hips and cocking my head, I gave my best impression of listening intently.
"Got to wait until Adonis wakes up."
"He doesn’t like it when you call him that."
"I don’t give a Medusa’s damn what he likes, impudent rat."
The gruffer he got, the more worry I heard. Repressing a smile, I watched as he molded Scooter’s head back to the body. It was like watching a sculptor’s hands at work. He massaged the neck against the shoulders, shaping muscle and veins. I sat mesmerized at this man’s – no this God’s talent.
Even though I knew that they weren’t really Gods, it was hard to combat what I was seeing. Zachary was creating life before my eyes.
Scooter’s chest began to rise and fall in a simulation of breathing. I didn’t think he needed to breathe, but who really knew? Leaning down, I rubbed his ribs and patted him a few times to make sure he was moving on his own and this wasn’t some sort of hallucination.
"Will he be alright?"
"Yeah, he’ll be fine in a few minutes. These are hard to kill, which is why he was SUPPOSED to be my guardian. The Gods only know what Adonis has been doing with him. He’s probably gotten lazy since I last saw him." He patted the golem’s head a few times, belaying the harshness of his words.
This man was a mystery. On one hand he was terrifying, a true being who could destroy entire land masses. On the other, he seemed to be a caring father and master. I still wasn’t entirely sure where I stood in his eyes. Parts of me were afraid to find out.
One moment he was trying to kill me, the next he was taking care of my messes. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was utterly insane. The mercurial moods didn’t help dissuade that opinion.
"Let’s assume that Drew isn’t going to wake up for a few hours. How about you give me a hint?"
"I think I know where your mother is." The last word trailed off as I looked at him, my mouth gaping open in shock.
"Well then why are you here and not fetching her?"
"Can’t."
"Why not?"
He scowled at me, his face becoming thunderous. I steeled myself for a lightning strike or something equally painful. I kept forgetting that making him mad was not a good idea. I’ve never claimed to be the smartest woman I know, but what I did next could have been classified as suicide in the right circles.
"Oh my God, would you just stop this," I yelled. "My house has been destroyed. I had Drew die in my arms and there are body parts lying - soaked in blood - in my god damned kitchen!" My chest was heaving in both fear and anger. "I want you to stop this! I’m tired of being afraid of you. Either you kill me or you cut this psychotic god nonsense out. I’m tired of it and I can’t take it anymore!"
The last sentence was a full out bellow. Zachary’s face had gone slack and his jaw dropped open as he stared at me in surprise. My fear spiked because I was certain that he was really going to kill me this time. Instead, he threw his head back and laughed.
The longer he laughed, the angrier I got. My life just kept getting weirder and weirder with an endless supply of crackpots wandering in and out.
He was bent over, holding his sides. The urge to brain him was strong. "Oh Medusa’s tits, Grace. You’ve got stones. Nobody has talked to me like that since your mother and that was after I sunk Atlantis."
"The crazy must be in the genes," I muttered. "I’m going to check on Drew, then start cleaning my house. Dylan is going to be destroyed over the loss of his loot and I need to take inventory so I can try to replace as much as possible."
Stalking to where Drew's still body lay, I could hear Zachary’s snorts and giggles. Medusa’s tits, indeed. The corner of my mouth quirked up and I forced it back down into a frown. I wasn’t going to fall into this man’s madness.
Nothing about this situation was worth laughing about. I had a destroyed house, the mostly dead body of a friend and other wreckage surrounding me. This wasn’t the time for normal.
Shame swept through me at how I had been joking and cajoling Zachary only minutes after losing my mind over the death of Drew. This wasn’t normal and this wasn’t me. What was happening here?
Swiping my hand over my cheek to get rid of a stray tear, I felt the blood and other bodily fluids that had caked into a gritty crust on my fingers and shuddered. Drew wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and since Zachary had Scooter in hand, I was going to take a shower.
Chapter 19
Huddled on the floor of my shower, shivering under water that had grown cold eons ago was where Drew found me. My face was crushed against my knees and the only thing I remember was rocking back and forth, asking God to give me my life back.
It didn’t matter that Brandon had cheated. It didn’t matter that I loathed him. I just wanted my predictable, boring days back. I’d write a hundred, no – a thousand pages a day for Marisol, if we could just get back to how it was before I’d met my mother.
These creatures had found my house! What if Dylan had been home? How was I supposed to keep my family safe? I knew that I’d only defeated that creature out of sheer dumb luck. There wasn’t skill there. I’d gone into survival mode at the last minute.
They had killed Drew and he was the strongest, fastest, most powerful being I’d ever seen! There was no way I could do this. Self-doubt spun its vicious web lazily through my mind, dropping anchors where they would hurt the most. Nothing was going to fix this or make it better because we were all doomed if I was supposed to be the savior.
As if on cue, powerful arms wrapped themselves around my naked body and pulled me into his lap, murmuring and r
ocking. The water no longer poured down, but now the cold felt more noticeable.
"Shhh, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok," he whispered.
I felt like a small child, wrapped in his arms. I wanted to crawl into that embrace and lose myself, never coming back out. I wasn’t strong enough for this. I could fake it like nobody’s business, but the reality was that I wasn’t cut out for this life.
"Sure you are," he cajoled.
"Stop reading my mind." I burrowed deeper into his warmth and listened to his heartbeat for a few moments. It dawned on me that it hadn't been all that long ago that I'd been sure I'd seen his last smile, had heard his last heart beat. I couldn't stop the tears from coming again.
I threw every mental shield he’d ever taught me up and gave into the sobs. This wasn’t just about his near death. No, this went quite a bit further down the road to insanity.
For the last few months, I’d spent every day with this man and it occurred to me that maybe this breakdown wasn’t just about lust and friendship. I’d taken Drew’s presence for granted. He was an immortal. He wasn’t supposed to die and leave me to confront these kinds of feelings.
Lust, that was logical. He was Adonis. Of course there would be lust. I could explain away lust. I could ignore lust. I cried harder and he just held on, never saying a word.
"Want to talk about it?" The question was quiet and tentative.
Hell NO I didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe when he wasn’t living with me or training me to stay alive. Maybe when I was on my deathbed, I would tell this beautiful man the traitorous thoughts in my head. But not right now.
I shook my head violently in the negative. I realized that I was naked and my body tensed.
"I need to dry off and get dressed. I’ll meet you in the kitchen and we can talk about what happened tonight. I-" pausing because I didn’t know what to say, I just waved my hand at him and clambered out of his arms.
My teeth began chattering like some kind of hopping toy. My dentist was going to kill me if I chipped a tooth. He’d spent months rebuilding them after I’d given birth to Dylan.
Jerking a towel off the hook in the shower, I wrapped it around my body and stepped out of the bathroom. The damage to my bedroom had been minimal. I guess it was because the monsters thought someone had already been through.
Keeping my bedroom clean wasn’t high priority these days and piles of laundry in various states of clean were scattered on different surfaces.
This wasn’t a love story, the writer in me argued. This wasn’t one of my sappy romance novels. This was an adventure book. There was no room for love here. The plain ugly duckling would not get the beautiful guy in the end. No fairy tales were at work.
Angry, I pulled on jeans that were too big and a sweatshirt that had seen better days. I ignored the frayed cuffs and neck and looked for something to hold my pants up.
Why hadn’t I gone shopping? Oh right, because I didn’t expect to lose another twenty pounds. The only thing that fit was what I’d worn to Rose’s house for Christmas and that outfit was literally a bloody mess.
I spotted the braided cord that held the curtains back and ripped it off the wall. It would have to do. Threading it through the belt loops was harder than I thought it would be, but this wasn’t a fashion show. This was fucking life and I wasn’t willing to play the game anymore.
I twisted my hair into a knot while I stormed down the hall to Zachary. With each step, my mood darkened. I was going to get straight answers or he wasn’t leaving my house without a few bruises and cuts. I was tired of people dodging questions for my safety or because I "wasn’t meant to know yet." Bullshit. Tonight, I was getting answers. Then I was going to find my mother and make her take all of this back.
Life was way less complicated before she showed up.
The ground began to rumble. I should have taken care, but I was too pissed and confused to pay much attention. I heard running steps behind me. Most likely it was Drew taking another pass at calming me down - comforting me. Hah! He was the cause of more of this turmoil than I cared to admit.
A tingling started at my feet. Like an experienced lover, power from the earth flowed across my skin, welcoming me with its warm embrace. As I walked, I concentrated hard on that feeling. This new power was eager to please me. It wanted direction and a way to manifest itself. I was absolutely willing to comply and just before Drew reached me, I threw my hand up, directing that power. A thin wall of rock shot up through the floor and through the ceiling, effectively blocking his reach. I smiled and continued forward, hearing his shocked exclamation behind me.
I wouldn’t think about the damage done to my pipes or structure. The house was ruined at this point anyway. I was curious what else I could do with this newfound power. Beyond that, I wanted to know where it came from. As far as I knew, my mother didn’t have any Earth powers. Hers were illusion and sensory. Power exploration came later, first, conversation. Zachary wasn’t going to dodge my questions anymore. I was tired of being treated like a curiosity or worse, a child. He would answer me, or I would bury his ass.
Looking back, I have to wonder what Zachary saw when I finally thundered into the room. He described some kind of goddess of terrifying beauty with electricity flitting across her skin. I don’t want to wonder too often. I don’t want to know what I look like when I’m in a rage. Not unlike the Hulk, you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry. People tend to get hurt and that’s not who I want to be.
"You will answer my questions, by God, or I will bury you under so much rock, they won’t find you for millennia." I snarled as I stalked toward him through the living room. He continued to back away from me slowly, as though I were a mountain lion looking for a snack.
"You should probably calm down, Grace. Even my power cannot hold back this disturbance for long." But I didn’t want to hear logic or platitudes. I wanted him to tell me what he wanted from me. What they all wanted from me.
"Answers first," I shouted. "Who has my Mother? Why haven’t you rescued her and why are you people wrecking my life?"
Each of my questions was punctuated by a violent shaking of the earth. I imagined rock-like hands, wrapping around his throat and pulling him down and out of my world.
He’d stopped moving. I realized it was because that loving power had adhered to my wishes. Granite rock encased his legs up to his knees. It should have shocked me out of this anger. It didn’t. I envisioned the rock moving higher to his hips and before I could blink, it had.
"I can go higher, Zachary." My voice was calm - purring even. This power felt good. I wanted this feeling to go on forever. I could forget about the crap life, the fear and just give in to this sensation of enormous pleasure. Narrowing my eyes and wiggling my fingers a little, the rock crept to his waist.
"Medusa’s balls, Grace!" Zachary frantically wriggled, trying to free himself.
His exclamation made absolutely no sense and acted like a bucket of freezing water - kicking me out of my power induced orgy. I stopped and frowned in confusion. "Wait, what? Zachary, Medusa didn’t have balls. I appreciate your colorful epitaphs, but you should at least TRY to make sense. You have to realize that your exclamations just don’t work most of the time." I planted my hands on my hips and stood there, staring with confusion.
"Well," he growled. "She sure as hell had bigger stones than most men I know."
Nodding thoughtfully I answered, "Fair enough. You can keep that one."
I took a deep breath, letting the brunt of my anger wash away. What was I doing? Who was this person that I had become, full of rage and bitterness? It felt like the last thirty years of stuffing emotions had caught up to me and the feelings weren’t good - or even wanted. Zachary still wasn’t getting out of the rock until he’d given me answers, but it wasn’t creeping higher anymore.
"My mother. Details. I want them. Very pointed. Very concise." Leaning against a broken end table, I looked at him expectantly, letting him know with my expression that he wasn’t goi
ng anywhere until I had answers.
My question was met with an exasperated sigh. "You will be the death of me and my patience Grace Murphy."
I nodded. "Most likely. Start talking."
"Don’t you think we should wait for Adonis so I don’t have to tell the tale twice?"
"He’s crouched outside the bay window behind you. I imagine that he can hear you." The lingering power gave me a sense of my surroundings. I could feel him crouching and if I focused on him hard enough, I could feel his pulse. Yeah, that was freaky. It was almost worth the freak though when I felt him start with surprise. I wanted to yell "Surprise!" but thought better of it. I’d already made a mess of things with my Drama Queen reaction.
How could I tell he was crouching? That was easy. I could see the spikes of his hair through the bottom of the window. He needed a shower, dried blood was giving him a porcupine appearance.
"You should wash your hair, lovey. Blood is not a good color on you."
He raised his hand to feel the spikes at my suggestion. I grinned and yelled, "Vain!"
Looking back at Zachary, I simply raised my eyebrow.
"I dislike being told what to do," he began petulantly.
"Get used to it."
"I think that she’s with your father," he stated abruptly.
"I’m sorry what?"
"I think that she’s with your father. This is why we can’t find her. He is hiding her power."
"That doesn’t make any sense. She told me that she went off world to find a suitable sperm donor. How could he be here and how do you know about him?"
A pained groan came from the window. Glancing over, I saw Drew had his head against the pane, slowly shaking it back and forth. "Of course! Why didn’t I think of that before?"
"Because the wrong head has been thinking for you lately, obviously," came the gruff response.
I stared wide-eyed at both of them. "Excuse me? Clueless person in the room. Care to elaborate?"
"Geb has your Mom." I raised my eyebrows in question.
Huntress (A Grace Murphy Novel) Page 17
