The Medusa Files, Case 2: Heart of Stone

by C. I. Black

  “I’m… I’m not—” Magic flickered and danced around Trina.

  Morgan tensed. She had to do something—and if she had her gun, everything would be so much simpler. What she needed was a weapon. Fire licked around her eyes. Shit. It was the only weapon currently at her disposal.

  Eoin punched at Lachlin, who blocked and grabbed his brother’s arm, swinging him around and shoving him over a sectional.

  The fire in Morgan’s face billowed. Except her powers were still entirely unreliable. She had to be smart about this.

  Eoin leapt back over the sectional and tackled Lachlin. They slammed against the edge of a coffee table, shattering glass and wood, and tumbled to the floor.

  Lachlin twisted, wrenching them around. Eoin bucked, shoving Lachlin up, and Trina threw a blast of magic at him. It slammed into his chest, tossing him back.

  Another bolt of magic pounded into Lachlin. He screamed. Smoke curled from his body and the acrid bite of burning flesh filled the room. Gage writhed against the magic net and Bearnas remained unconscious. Fire roared across Morgan’s face.

  Morgan squeezed her eyes shut. The fire burned across her cheeks and down her neck. She could do this. Focus. She could control this. Be smart about it. Use her powers without directly looking at Trina, on something that would stop her, like the chandelier.

  Lachlin screamed again and Morgan’s eyes flew open. She focused at the chandelier, but the power didn’t roar out of her eyes. It burned over her head, down her neck, and across her chest. Just like it had inside the light cage.

  Come on. Turn to stone.

  The heat swirled, setting her nerves on fire. Lachlin staggered to his feet. Trina shot another blast of magic at him. He tumbled to the side, but the blast slammed into his legs.

  Shit. Focus.

  The fire within Morgan snapped. She stumbled back. Pain exploded through her foot and she gasped.

  Trina jerked around to face her. Magic crackled and danced around Trina’s head, bright pinpoints of light flashing like miniature sunbursts. “Eoin, darling.”

  “Of course.” Eoin’s lips curled back in a wicked smile. “Morgan.”

  The fire within her turned slick. Her name slid through her, hot and sultry, down to her core.

  “Come here, Morgan.” Eoin held out his hand.

  God, she wanted to hold it, press it against her body. She wanted all of him pressed against her.

  No, that was his charm. She didn’t want anything from him.

  Heat rippled over her face, the promise of powers that wouldn’t manifest.

  Focus. She could release it. Stop Trina.

  “Morgan,” Eoin purred, raising his other hand to join the first in the promise of an embrace.

  “No, I—”

  He cocked his head and his smiled deepened. A shiver of anticipation slid through her. She took a trembling step forward. Pain raced through her foot and up her leg, but it was nothing compared to the need filling her.

  “I know you want me.”

  Oh, yes. She wanted him, wanted all of him. Now. Another shiver raced over her and she stepped closer. His pale gaze locked on hers, devoured her, like someone else she knew. Except that someone’s gaze was dark and dangerous and…

  He pursed his lips, pulling her attention, all of her focus there. Strong, hard, hungry. She needed to taste them.

  No, that was his charm.

  God. It was so difficult to focus.

  A hint of his wicked smile returned, flooding her, consuming her. She shuddered. Her breath caught in her throat. There was no one else in the room. Just him. Light sparkled around him. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, and he wanted her. It was clear in his expression and inviting hands. His smile promised sensual, dirty pleasures. Pleasures she could relive in her dreams over and over again. Just the thought made her tremble with desire.

  Oh, yes. Now.

  He inched back. “Join me on the patio.”

  Yes. She took another step forward.

  “Morgan, no.” The voice sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t rip her attention away from Eoin. A part of her knew whoever it was had been yelling at her for a while now.

  Eoin flexed his fingers, an invitation for her to clasp them. “I want to show you the view of the city.” His tone said he wanted to show her more.

  “Morgan—” The familiar voice again.

  Light exploded in the room. Someone yelled. Another man groaned. She was supposed to know something about that, about them. The light meant something… magic? Why couldn’t she remember? She was supposed to remember something.

  “Come on, Morgan,” Eoin said.

  Her hand grasped his of its own volition. She was there, standing beside him, but she wasn’t there anymore. She wasn’t sure where she was.

  She blinked. When she opened her eyes, she stood on the other side of the room, with Eoin’s fingers wrapped around hers, as if her mind had stuttered.

  This wasn’t right. She squeezed her eyes shut again… or was this the first time? The sensation of floating in water, sensual water, grew stronger. Heat radiated from Eoin’s touch, liquid promise searing her veins.

  They were now at the patio door. She’d missed half a dozen more steps.

  A part of her screamed something was wrong, but it was so muted, on the edge of her hearing.

  He led her to the brick and concrete ledge. Why was he wasting their time together showing her the patio? She didn’t care about the city’s skyline. They were steps away from his bedroom. This was, after all, his apartment. She wanted to be there. Had to be there.

  He caressed the ledge.

  He should be caressing her.

  Another shiver shuddered over her. The thought of him touching her, sliding his hands over her most sensitive, private parts flooded her.

  “You’ll see better from up here.”

  Yes, yes, yes—

  Wait. She didn’t want to see. She wanted him to touch her, satisfy her.

  “Eoin, please.”

  “Sit on the ledge.”

  But that would take him farther from her. “No, I—”

  He skimmed his free hand over her hip and up, slowly, so slowly, up her waist to her ribcage. “I want you on the ledge.”

  “I want you.” She couldn’t catch her breath. His fingers paused at the edge of her bra. Her nerves burned. Just finish the move, cup her breast, undress her. Right here, on the patio.

  “I know you do.” His hand eased to her back, leaving a chill where his palm had rested. But then he drew her close, pressing her body against his, his hand darting into her hair.

  Her breath hitched and his lips captured hers. Strong. Hungry. Oh, yes. Desire burned across her chest. Heat pooled between her legs. Her pulse pounded and a moan curled in her throat, caught between release and capture. Her body ached for more. She had to have more.

  She fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt, her fingers tingling and numb. Too slow. With a groan, she ripped his shirt open.

  “I want you on the ledge,” he said, his breath curling into her mouth, hot and wet. Like the rest of her.

  She slid up on the ledge. The concrete’s chill seeped through her jeans into her butt. He ran his hands up her thighs and cupped her hips. With a jerk, he could pull her close, lock them together in the most intimate embrace. He inched his fingers under her T-shirt, caressing her waist.

  Goose bumps shivered over her. She had to get closer. She shifted, but he held her in place. The distance between them, only a handful of inches, burned within her. They were supposed to finish this. He was supposed to satisfy her. She was—

  She was… supposed to remember something. Something about Eoin, about her need, about—

  Fire licked around her eyes, trailing down her neck into her chest.

  She dragged her attention to his too-large eyes, but the invitation, the desire for her that she’d seen before, wasn’t there. They were hard, focused, determined. His mouth, his delicious mouth, had pinche
d tight, as if he was concentrating with everything he had.

  Concentrating on his charm.

  The fire within her burned brighter. Lava in her veins. This wasn’t desire. It was power. Her power. And she was breaking free of his.

  His eyes widened. With a growl, he shoved her. She rocked back, seized his arms, and threw her legs around his waist, wrenching herself up.

  He twisted in her grip. Her leg scraped against something sharp in his pants pocket. Trina’s charm.

  He wrenched one arm free and swung at her. She twisted under his punch and launched herself forward, ramming her shoulder into his chest.

  His breath exploded across her neck and he staggered back.

  She shuddered, tumbling off the ledge onto the patio on her hands and knees. Pain lanced through her shoulder and foot. Power seared across her chest.

  Eoin grabbed the back of her shirt. He yanked her up and punched her in the gut. More pain. Her breath vanished. She jerked close, grasping for his pocket and the charm.

  “Just die.” He stomped on her broken foot.

  White lightning exploded through her. Her legs buckled and gave way.

  She forced her fingers to hook his pocket.

  His fist smashed into her cheek.

  The patio went black, snapped bright, blackened again. She teetered and wrenched forward, shoving her hand into his pocket. Her fingers hit metal. He jerked back and swung at her again.

  She twisted, but the blow skimmed her cheek, knocking her to the side. The charm flew from her hand, skittering across the patio. Her face hit stone and the patio contorted.

  Eoin drew his hand back to punch again, but froze, fist poised. “I, ah…” He staggered away, frowning. “I…”

  “Kill her!” Trina rushed onto the patio. “She’s trying to hurt me. Kill her.”

  “I—” Eoin jerked around to face her. “You charmed me.”

  Trina stumbled and stopped, a flurry of expressions flashing across her face, confusion, desperation, desire, finally rage. “You were supposed to be mine.”

  “I, what?” Eoin pressed his palms to his forehead.

  Magic snapped, white sparks around Trina, whirling in a ferocious vortex, raising the hair on the back of Morgan’s neck and arms. “I will have you.” Trina threw out her hand and a blast of light slammed into Eoin’s chest.

  He screamed and the magic shot around him, glimmering threads weaving round and round. Trina threw her head back and more magic poured into her, racing across her body and out her hand.

  Behind her in the living room, a sunburst of magic exploded. Trina wrenched around as Gage stood, shaking off the remains of the magical web. Darkness gathered around him, the promise of enormous power, and he stalked forward.

  “Release the elemental magic and give yourself up,” Gage said.

  Trina laughed and the magic gusted around her, pulling her hair free from its chignon. “All bark and no bite. Everyone knows all you can summon is a whisper of that power.”

  Bearnas rose beside him. “But I’m not bound in the same way.”

  “The precious sibyl. You won’t get your hands dirty.” Trina raised her chin and sneered.

  Bearnas squared her shoulders. “You’re channeling too much magic, too quickly. Let it go.”

  “Make me. You can’t control this kind of power. You’re nothing. I should be heir to the House of Fairy.” She threw a bolt of magic. The window to the living room shattered. Gage grabbed Bearnas and wrenched her aside. The blast exploded against the wall and real fire rushed over it. Sprinklers burst to life, showering water into the living room, and the fire alarm wailed.

  “Trina, stop it,” Eoin screamed, writhing in the vortex of magic surrounding him.

  She threw another bolt into the living room. Gage and Bearnas tumbled out of the way. More fire raced over the floor and along the edge of the sectional, hissing and spitting in the shower. Trina spun to face Eoin. “You were supposed to be mine.”

  “We can talk about this. Just release the elemental magic.”

  “No.”

  The magic billowed, snapping at Morgan’s skin. The inferno in her chest flared in response. The vortex pulled with greater force, roaring around them.

  “You’ll destroy us,” Eoin said. “Let it go.”

  “The gorgon can’t have you.”

  “I don’t want her.”

  “I see the way you look at her. I should be the wife of the heir of the House of Fairy. When I’m done, she’ll be a smear on the patio.” Trina threw her hand up. Magic roared into her. Light burst from her skin.

  “Stop!” Bearnas screamed. “It’s too dangerous.”

  Trina jerked her hands toward Morgan. Lightning erupted around her, in her, through her, agony in her very soul.

  Eoin flew back from the force of the blow. The rest of the patio’s windows shattered. The fire in Morgan’s chest blazed in response with a molten force she’d never experienced before. The air trembled, heat radiating from asphalt. The elemental magic beat at her, buffeted around and within her. The power that burned like her magical gaze but couldn’t possibly be her gaze grew tense, taut, building, building. She was going to burst, burn up, both.

  It exploded from her, tearing at her soul, shooting the elemental magic back into Trina. Her clothes burst into flames. She screamed, the magic surrounding her holding her rigid, unable to fight the blaze consuming her. Her skin blackened and peeled away. She wailed with desperate agony.

  Bile burned the back of Morgan’s throat. The stench of burning flesh coated the inside of her nose and mouth. Her stomach clenched.

  Trina writhed and screamed, on and on, her agony twisting Morgan’s gut. The vortex roared, tearing and biting. Finally, with a mangled cry, the vortex vanished and Trina’s charred form collapsed to the patio.

  Morgan’s ears rang in the silence, and the afterimage of the magic’s light writhed dark across her vision. Her pulse pounded, igniting the pain in her shoulder and foot. A breeze caressed the patio, swirling smoke up from Trina’s corpse and pulling it away.

  When they’d started this case, Gage had said it was a routine investigation. She hated to see what wasn’t routine for his team.

  CHAPTER 10

  Morgan waited until Hannah had closed the door, then eased from her bed and hopped to the window. The woman with the gossamer wings had said her healing magic had accelerated the process of knitting her broken foot and collarbone back together, but Morgan was to stay in bed for at least two days.

  Except she’d been in bed for the last three hours while Hannah had worked and the idea of lying still any longer made Morgan twitch with frustration. And the need to move just made her all the more aware that she wasn’t normal anymore.

  But she hadn’t really been normal to begin with. Her inability to sit still during stakeouts, the feeling of relief that washed over her when she exercised, the need to move, tap her fingers, her foot, anything, were all because she was a gorgon.

  She propped her sunglasses in her hair and pressed her forehead to the window. Outside, Gage’s property rolled down to a high stone wall; the orange glow from a streetlight filtered through the new leaves, half uncurled in the branches of the trees guarding the property.

  Spring’s rebirth. The leaves this year were the same as last year and the year before and the year before that. Morgan’s spring marked a rebirth into something new, horrifying, and undoubtedly powerful.

  A shiver slid over her at the memory of the power within her that had exploded against Trina’s magic and at the fire that licked her eyes, promising death to everyone her gaze landed on. Except her gaze had failed her today. Eoin had almost made her jump off his balcony with his charm, and something else, something deep within her, had saved her.

  She shuddered and desire tingled across her nerves. If she’d had her gun, she wouldn’t have made out with Eoin, and Trina would be shot and in the hospital. Trina wouldn’t have burned to death from the force of raw, elemental magic.

/>   And yet, if she’d had her gun, she might have been made to shoot Gage or Lachlin or Bearnas.

  Nope. She’d take her gun any day. She knew how it worked and knew the repercussions of using it. Her powers… that was a mess she didn’t want to deal with.

  But wanting something didn’t mean it would happen. She’d known that when she’d realized the truth about herself, and again when she’d agreed to live and work with Gage and Lachlin and the rest of the team. She just really didn’t want to deal with it right now.

  Someone knocked and she dropped her new sunglasses back down onto her nose. The door creaked open and Gage’s scent, musk and mint, wrapped around her.

  Another shudder raced over her and she sucked in a ragged breath, taking in more of his scent.

  “You’re supposed to be in bed.” His rich tenor caressed her senses.

  It was just an aftereffect of Eoin’s charm. It had to be. It would go away.

  But that wasn’t true either. She was doing a terrible job at lying to herself. She should probably just stop.

  “I needed to get up.”

  “You really don’t want to piss Hannah off.” His footsteps padded across the carpeted floor and heat radiated across her back as he drew near.

  She dropped her gaze to the floor. The toe of Gage’s army boot inched closer to her heel and her nerves sparked.

  “She tends to get upset when her patients ruin all her hard work.” His breath tickled the back of her neck.

  It was just Eoin’s charm—

  What if it wasn’t? What if it was Gage’s charm? She still had no idea what kind of Kin he was, only that he was powerful. Although Trina had said all that darkness and strength he radiated was a lie, that he couldn’t access it. If the crazy Fae was wrong, though, Morgan didn’t want to be in the line of fire when Gage finally used it.

  “Let me help you back into bed.”

  Heat swept up her neck and over her cheeks at the combination of Gage, her, and her bed.

  “You really should be resting,” he said.

  The blush dissipated. It was foolish to think he’d been thinking the same thing. “I hopped over here. I can hop back.”