The Gorgon Bride

by Galen Sulak-Ramsey

  “Flattened, from what I understand,” said Alex. With nothing else to further the conversation, he started for the door.

  Euryale grabbed him by the arm. “A moment, Alex, if you would. We must be sure no one is at home.”

  Alex stopped, puzzled. “Why would there be?”

  “I should have asked before,” she said, “but I was caught up in the moment and in my haste, I did not.”

  “Ask what?”

  Euryale chewed her lip momentarily before clarifying. “Have you a wife?”

  “I never married.”

  “What about your family?”

  “I have none that are still alive,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the door. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  The gorgon slumped. “I apologize if my questions were painful. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not particularly.”

  Euryale pulled her serpentine hair back and attempted a fast knot tie, but without something to clamp the reptiles down, they easily slithered free from the bun she created. “As you wish,” she said. “But let me warn you, if anyone saw me, it would not end well.”

  “Because of the snakes?”

  “In part, yes,” she answered as she pulled up the hood of her cloak. “I don’t think you understand for whom you are trying to find a suitor.”

  “Look, the snakes are weird and will freak most people out,” Alex replied, hoping that it didn’t sound as bad as he thought. “But can you imagine what would happen if the neighbors saw me walking around? I think a walking corpse tops snake-girl any day of the week.”

  Euryale patted him on the shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about that. No one can see you—no mortal at least.”

  “No one?”

  “Not a soul, Alex. You’ve been killed, remember?”

  “Figures. Maybe I’ll start tossing some lamps around to get their attention. That could be fun.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t work,” she said as she smacked a stray viper back into place.

  Alex smirked. “They can’t see lamps now either?”

  “No, it’s not like that,” Euryale replied. She hesitated and then motioned toward the house. “Try the doorknob and you’ll see.”

  “Right, the doorknob,” Alex repeated with a wary voice. He reached out to give it a turn, then a second, and finally a third time before he realized that his hand was passing through with each attempt. “Now that’s bizarre.”

  “You’ll need a body if you want to use anything around here. That includes being seen, heard, or otherwise noticed by people. And since you’ve been killed…well, you understand now, I’m sure.”

  “But you can see, hear, and interact with me.”

  “I’m also the daughter of a god,” she said with a wink.

  “So, you’re telling me what, exactly?”

  “I’m telling you that you won’t be doing anything on your own.”

  Alex took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “Well, hell.”

  * * *

  Ares paced the bedroom, occasionally kicking various garments that had been tossed on the oak floor. His mind was elsewhere, while Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, sat in bed with pink silk sheets drawn up to her neck and a crass look on her face.

  “Well that was unfulfilling,” she said with a huff. She fluffed the large feather pillow behind her and sank into it. “A mortal would have lasted ten times longer.”

  Ares grunted while he continued to walk about. What mortal could gaze upon her immaculate, milky skin and not turn into a stuttering idiot? Or kiss her lips, full and red, and not do the same? And could a man ever touch her legs, long and sculpted, let alone see her perfect breasts or curvy hips and not drop dead?

  Aphrodite threw a pillow at him, interrupting his train of thought. “Are you going to leave me in want all night?”

  The God of War stopped, clenched a fist, and then forced himself to relax. He enjoyed his time with her immensely, and he knew that she expected more of him. Perhaps he could still salvage the evening. “I’m sorry, my love,” he said, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. “Stress. Pressure. Frustration. It’s all taking its toll. I’m not the warrior I once was.”

  Aphrodite scooted toward her lover and massaged his shoulders. “Talk to me.”

  “It’s Athena,” he said, leaning back into her. Even in his aggravated state, her soft touch brought welcomed relief. “She’s cheating somehow. I should be driving her into the ground and crushing her skull beneath my heel. But these war games all end in her victory, and I know not why.”

  Aphrodite kissed the side of his neck and face. “You shouldn’t let little sis bother you so.”

  “She has no love of war, true war that is,” Ares went on. “How can one like she win our contests? Not once has she drank the blood of the fallen or sent corpses sailing over walls to frighten her foes.”

  “Ignore her.” Aphrodite slid her hands under his arms and around his chest. “She’s not worth your time.”

  Ares twisted to face her and savored her warm embrace. “But you are.”

  The goddess smiled seductively. “We both know who the strongest is. Let her play her games, and let us play ours.”

  Ares silently agreed, kissed her, and let the thought of his little sister fade from his mind. He nibbled her ear and relished the sweet smell that floated from her skin.

  “It’s not like she does anything important,” Aphrodite added with a laugh.

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Of course I am,” she replied. “What’s the little priss doing now?”

  “Mixed up in some business with The Old Man,” Ares said. He grabbed her about the waist and slid her up to the head of the bed. “She has to find Euryale a date.”

  “A date?” Aphrodite’s hands stopped caressing his back. “What sort of date?”

  “More like a suitor,” he said. “The gorgon wants to be loved.”

  “What?” The goddess pushed him off, and she sat up. “Athena is arranging a marriage?”

  “Phorcys forced her, but yes.”

  “She is encroaching in my domain?” Aphrodite stammered as she tried to spit out the rest of her thoughts. “How could anyone think she’s qualified? She’s never even kissed another!”

  Ares put his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. “Let it go. Like you said, it’s only Athena playing games.”

  Aphrodite shoved his arms away from her and jumped out of bed. “No, I won’t let it go,” she said. Her cheeks flushed. “And neither should you. This is an insult to my reputation and my honor. You of all gods should be defending me and putting a stop to this nonsense.”

  “What does it matter?” Ares said. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

  “Doesn’t know? Doesn’t know!” she shrieked. “Of course she knows! She calculates every little thing she does!”

  Ares took her hands in his and tried to soothe his lover. “Light of my life, even if Athena succeeds in the task, no one cares if Euryale marries. You will always be the Goddess of Love.”

  “She’ll have a perfect track record!” Aphrodite said, heaving a pillow at him. “She’ll be able to gloat for eternity that she’s never failed!”

  “And?”

  “And excuse me for not wanting to tend to every mortal’s persnickety desires, but after a few billion couples, you tend to mess up every now and then.”

  Ares, still not following, dared to ask his follow up question, even though he felt like it was a bad idea. “What does that matter?”

  “What do you mean what does it matter? Who do you think she’ll say is the true Goddess of Love?”

  Ares, feeling stupid, didn’t respond.

  Aphrodite groaned and threw up her hands. In a whirlwind of activity, she grabbed her floor-tossed robes, threw them on, and fixed her golden hair. “Keep this in mind, dear,” she said as she headed for the door. “If Euryale gets married while Athena
is involved, don’t bother coming to see me ever again.”

  A heartbeat later, she was gone, leaving Ares alone and wondering what his lover was about to do. Maybe start a war. That was never a bad idea, and one he liked for himself as well. The only question was, with whom?

  * * *

  Alex and Euryale stood outside the office of Dr. Martin, matchmaker extraordinaire. The building—single-story, brick and boring—was the sole occupant of this block and had a well-manicured lawn encircled by a low-lying stone wall. Though the building had been built on a small side street with little traffic, Euryale was ill at ease. With each passing car, she ducked her head and adjusted her wide-brimmed, white hat.

  “You’ll be fine,” Alex reassured. He tried to sound confident. “Trust me.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” she replied, checking for stray serpents. “No one can see you. I wish you’d listen to me about what I want.”

  “No,” Alex said. “It’s my ass on the line, so we’re doing it my way.”

  “That’s rather controlling, don’t you think?”

  Alex nodded. “It is.”

  “Are you always this way?” she said, crossing her arms and smiling. “Or just with girls you are trying to find someone for?”

  Alex paused, his eyes drifting upward and his mouth twisting to one side as he thought about his answer. “I can be,” he said. “At least, when it’s something important. Look, I know this isn’t the most romantic solution. Hell, it’s as far from romance as you can get, but right now we need to play the numbers, so humor me. If this doesn’t work, I’m all ears to do it your way. I promise. Besides, we both want the same thing.” When Euryale gave a reluctant nod, Alex tacked on. “You do realize that eventually you’ll have to take that off, right?”

  “The hat?”

  “And sunglasses.”

  Euryale balked. “I think I need to explain a few things to you, Alex. As much as I love entertaining your ideas, this plan isn’t going to work.”

  “You’re beautiful, snakes and all. But don’t mention the being immortal and daughter of a god right away. People will think you’re crazy.” He checked the spot on his wrist where his watch used to be and cursed to himself. “I’ve got to stop doing that,” he said. “Regardless, it’s probably time for your appointment. You brought the monies?”

  The gorgon held up a small pouch. “I did.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with?” he asked.

  “I’m sure.”

  Alex stared at the gorgon, uncertain what to make of her defiant tone. In the end, however, he decided she would need the help, whether she agreed or not. “I could always haunt the corner of his office while you find a date, just to make sure nothing gets screwed up. You won’t even know I’m there.”

  “No,” she replied, forcefully. “And if you keep insisting, I won’t go in at all. Do try and show some patience, Alex.”

  With that, Euryale headed for the door before Alex could say another word.

  Chapter Seven

  Euryale had spent thousands of years wandering, both on her island and in the wilds across the globe, but the trek up the cobble path that led from sidewalk to office door was the longest yet. As she made the journey, she could feel panic rising within her chest. She had tried on several occasions to warn Alex that his idea would end horribly, that she would inadvertently kill anyone who saw her, but he would hear none of it. Or rather, he heard none of it. Perhaps it was his unbridled optimism that this Dr. Martin could help, or the fact that for the first time in eons someone other than her father was genuinely enjoying her company, but whatever it was, she couldn’t bring herself to enlighten him about the curse she bore. Nor could she enlighten him on her growing fondness of him. Not yet at least. Not while the risk of rejection still loomed.

  Patience, she reminded herself, was a virtue. She would play his game, and hopefully Alex would come around. If not, then perhaps Alex wasn’t the one and someone who’d decide to love her would cross her path.

  Euryale turned one last time as she reached the doorstep, hoping that Alex would understand, or see her angst and call her over so they could leave and stop this nonsense. Instead, he offered her an encouraging wave to go inside, which she begrudgingly did.

  The front office was not what she had been expecting. While the building’s exterior was dull, flat, and unassuming, the interior’s design held to an organic style of architecture that she enjoyed. It was a mixture of stone and wood, with colorful lights shining down on countless pictures of happy couples that lined the curved walls. Soft music played from mounted speakers, making her feel warm and fuzzy. The air even had a peculiar scent to it, as if romance waited in the next room.

  Front and center was a lavish, semi-circular desk, currently occupied by a tanned, rosy-cheeked secretary. “Miss Euryale, I presume,” she said, putting down her celery stick.

  “I am,” Euryale replied while trying her best not to make eye contact.

  “Dr. Martin is eager to see you. I just need you to fill out some paper work, first.” The girl handed her a clipboard with several forms attached. “And how will you be paying?”

  “Coinage.” Euryale raised her leather pouch. “Cash, I mean.”

  Euryale took the forms and filled them out as best she could. She hadn’t a clue as to why this businessman wanted to see her name written on so many sheets of paper, nor what the difference was between a printed name and a signature, since they both referred to the same person. As she read through the paperwork, most of her questions revolved around a section entitled Limitations of Liability. Ultimately, she decided it must be the standard way of doing business now and said nothing. The less attention she could attract at this point, the better.

  Once the completed paperwork was back in the hands of the secretary, Euryale followed her down a short hall and into a room filled with metal contraptions the likes of which she had never seen. Lining the walls on all sides were things that blinked, beeped, flashed, wobbled, and chirped. At the far end of the room was a small, round desk. Behind the desk was a man who stood barely four feet tall and wore grey pants with a bright blue blazer.

  “Miss Euryale!” the man said with enthusiasm. He ran over to her and warmly extended his hand. “How lovely to finally meet you. I’m Dr. Martin.”

  “Finally? I first called you this morning,” she said, perplexed.

  Dr. Martin kept his cheerful disposition and ushered her further into the room. “True enough, but it isn’t every day a client is willing to pay extra to see me before regular business hours. Nor have I ever talked to anyone else in such a hurry to find love.”

  “Money is of no object to me or my family,” Euryale said. “As for my hurry…let’s say my situation is unique and the details aren’t important.”

  “Well I’m certain this will be a wonderful relationship for the two of us,” he answered. He motioned toward one of the couches that occupied the room. “Please, have a seat.”

  Euryale sat down. She tried to relax as she ran her fingers over the satin cushions. So far, she felt things had gone well, but she wondered if she was being too formal, too strong. Probably. Most definitely. Men didn’t want to be intimidated by a female, maybe even more than they didn’t want to be turned into stone. They were stupid like that.

  “If I remember our conversation correctly, you said your father will be pleased when things go well?” Dr. Martin asked. He took a spot across from her, clipboard in hand. “Tell me more.”

  Euryale tossed him her leather pouch. “There’s plenty more if you get me who I want.”

  Dr. Martin peered inside and pulled out a gold coin. It was no bigger than the tip of his finger. It had the head of a female on one side and a winged person on the other. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” he said, putting the coin away and handing her the bag. “By cash, I mean U.S. currency. I’m not even sure where this is from.”

  “Greece,�
�� she answered. “The one you had is a gold stater.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said. He ran his hand over his balding head. “Well this isn’t an exchange house, and I fear that you’ll need more than a purse full of change to pay for this appointment. Perhaps we should use plastic?”

  “I’m not familiar with plastic.” Euryale tossed the sack back to him. She tried to keep herself calm, but she could feel the impatience rising in her voice. Her nails sharpened, ever so slightly, as did the tips of her canines. “I assure you that those coins are more than enough compensation.”

  Dr. Martin reached into the bag and pulled out a coin similar to the first. “Let me be frank with you, Miss Euryale,” he said. “I don’t know what Greek coins look like, but these look like crude forgeries. They aren’t even round.”

  “That’s because the one you are holding is about two and a half thousand years old. I’ve been told that it will easily fetch several thousand of your U.S. dollars.”

  Dr. Martin’s eyes widened. “This is ancient?”

  “According to your people, yes.”

  “This is gold?”

  “Yes.” Her body relaxed as they were finally getting somewhere.

  “A moment,” he said. He scuttled over to his desk and pushed a button. “Ms. Carrington? I need a curator or a coin expert of antiquity to come over right away, one who would recognize something from Ancient Greece. Thanks, you’re a doll.”

  “I assume you’ll help me now?” Euryale asked. “Because I have a man in mind, but I’m not sure he knows it.”

  “I’ll gladly help, provided these are authentic,” he replied. “Why don’t you take off your hat and sunglasses so we can get started?”

  * * *

  Alex meandered about the front of the building as he waited for Euryale. His mind drifted back to the short time they had spent together, back to her sweet demeanor and melodic laugh. He replayed kissing her on the cheek a thousand times over, remembering every detail about it, from the sensation of her skin against his lips to the brief glint in her eye as he pulled away.