Medusa's Dagger: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Aya Harris Collection Book 1)

by Lacy Andersen

  "I'll order dessert," Trevor said, opening the mini menu the waiter had slipped on the table ten minutes ago. "Let’s each get two different things. We have to try as many as we can while we’re here.”

  I liked a man who didn’t skimp on dessert. “It’s a deal. Make sure to order the crème brûlée.”

  My feet felt like they were floating a foot above the floor. So far, this date was unlike any date I’d been on. He said all the right things. Asked all the right questions. Didn’t talk about his ex or his mother. Had a job and liked good wine. It was a match made in Olympus.

  The restroom was nearly as fancy as the rest of the restaurant. Instead of paper towels, they had real cloth towels in perfect stacks next to the ceramic basin sinks. I found myself staring dreamily in the mirror, drying my hands, when something yanked on my torso. Falling back a step, I caught myself from tumbling to the marble floor.

  That was strange. Maybe I should cut back on the wine.

  Before I could toss the towel aside, the room dissolved around me, fading to black. I tried not to panic. Nothing good came out of panicking. The pulsating of powerful magic enveloped me. It swirled around like a top until it dropped me on a stained linoleum floor.

  I wish I could say that I landed with absolute grace like a gymnast, but instead I collapsed to the floor like a newborn colt. My stomach had turned to jelly and was jiggling around in my gut, threatening to evacuate the few bites of pasta I’d managed to swallow. I closed my eyes until the room ceased its spinning, and then opened them a crack.

  I’d been dumped in an apartment much like my own. To my left was the galley kitchen with a picture window. To my right, a similar living room. And sitting on a folding chair smack dab in the middle of that living room… was Gideon.

  In his hands, he fingered an item that looked like a dried gourd on a stick. It had feathers and beads attached to it. I instantly recognized the object. We had a similar one in the museum. It was an old voodoo shaker that allowed the owner to transport objects and people at will, but only if you knew exactly where they were. It was a rare find – the one we owned had lost its magical qualities and was now basically a glorified maraca. Gideon must’ve had me followed, or tracked the GPS on my phone. There was no other way he could’ve used that magic to bring me here.

  “What did you do?” I pushed myself off the floor and wiped the dust from my pants.

  This was the Yonas’ apartment. I recognized them from pictures on the wall.

  “I was in the middle of a date. A wonderful date. He probably thinks I ran out on him.”

  “This is more important than a date.” The steely tone of his voice told me he hadn’t gotten over our car ride last night. Gideon knew I was hiding something from him. “I need you to see if you can get a vision again.”

  “I thought I already told you, I’m not your puppet.” I put my hands on my hips and stared him down. “And you shouldn’t be playing with that. It’s not a toy.”

  “I know. It’s SI property. We only take it out in special circumstances.” He dropped the shaker and crossed the room between us. “I needed you.”

  Normally, if a man told me he needed me, my knees would begin to shake. But, not this time. This time I was angry and on the verge of raging. “This stalking thing is getting a bit old. I think you need to cool off.”

  Gideon stepped closer. There was hardly any room between us. From this distance, I could see the lines of desperation etched in his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all last night. His eyes were wide in panic, as if he’d just witnessed something awful.

  “What happened to you?” I couldn’t help myself – I grabbed his hand and held it between my own. His skin burned against mine. “What is it?”

  “We found Mrs. Yonas.” Gideon looked down at our hands, but didn’t pull away. “Her body was found in an old garage on Sycamore. Same markings, same cuts.” His eyes trailed up to my own. They were filled with an awful sadness.

  Despite my anger, I wanted to press my lips against his and wash away his pain. The thought of his mouth against mine, our bodies entwined, sent a thrill through my nervous system. All I had to do was cross the small space between us. It was only a few inches, but it felt like a thousand miles.

  Instead, I dropped his hand and turned away. “And Michelle and Kit? What about them?”

  “Still missing.”

  I felt Gideon step closer, his breath warm on the back of my neck. Goosebumps popped up along my skin and under my dress. I did my best to hide the way it made me shiver.

  “Now’s the time to tell me the truth, Aya.” He spoke softly, each word tickling my neck. “Don’t lie to me again.”

  I closed my eyes. If I told him, we’d both be in danger. Nicky’s twisted form of righteousness didn’t look too kindly on the supernatural that got in his way. We’d be targets.

  “I can’t.”

  The words barely made a sound. I didn’t want to lie to him. I didn’t want him to hate me.

  “Tell me, Aya.” Gideon gently grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. “Tell me why you got nervous when I mentioned the raven’s feather.”

  I wasn’t quick enough to hide the fear that flashed in my eyes. Gideon saw it and zeroed in.

  “You knew. You knew it this whole time, didn’t you?” His hands dropped from my arms. “You knew it was your brother who took them. You knew and you didn’t tell me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Anger and resentment washed over Gideon’s face. He hated me for lying to him, and I couldn’t blame him. I hated myself, too.

  “I’m sorry.” The words tasted like tin on the tip of my tongue. “Until today, I didn’t know for sure if Nicky was involved.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” He clenched his fists at his side, his anger threatening to boil over. “I told you about the raven’s feather. Why didn’t you say something then? What are you hiding?”

  “Nothing!” The room was squeezing in on me. I walked past Gideon into the open living room and stared out the window. “I just didn’t want to get involved. Nicky’s dangerous, Gideon. But at the same time, he’s my brother. I didn’t know what to do.”

  It was so quiet in the apartment, for a moment I thought he’d left. Turning around, I saw him standing in the same spot in the kitchen.

  “Do you know what happens to male children in harpy families?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “Centuries ago, they were drowned or slaughtered straight out of the womb. You see, little boys can’t inherit the harpy powers. They’re born human, so they’re basically useless. But now, instead of murdering their little boys, harpy mothers simply ignore them. That was my brother’s fate.”

  Anger suppressed since childhood came roaring to the surface in a tidal wave, spilling over into my hot cheeks, the tension in my shoulders, and the whites of my knuckles.

  “You said you have siblings, right?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Well, Nicky’s my older brother. I looked up to him. But at the same time, I protected him. He and I were a pair. We belonged to each other.”

  “You don’t have to protect him.” Gideon’s voice was surprisingly calm. “Not anymore. He’s a monster, Aya.”

  “You don’t understand.” I shook my head. “I’m not just protecting him, I’m protecting myself. I’m protecting you.”

  Suddenly, the world felt too heavy to bear. I sat on the microfiber couch and buried my head in my hands. Gideon’s warm fingers enclosed my hands in his. I flinched at his unexpected touch, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he gently pried my hands away from my face, and lifted my chin until I met his gaze.

  “Tell me everything,” he said. It was more of a command than a request.

  Something inside of me snapped. The secrets I’d been holding inside for so long began to spill out.

  “Nicky murdered for the first time the summer before I left for college. She was a family friend - Mrs. Beckett, an old crooked woman who lived in our neighborhood
, and gave away king-sized candy bars at Halloween.”

  I smiled, remembering those Halloween nights Nicky and I pinky promised to hit up Mrs. Beckett’s house for giant Musketeers bars.

  “Mrs. Beckett was a Grey Sister. They’re creatures with psychic powers. I guess, she should’ve seen what was coming.”

  I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Gideon was patient with me, but I could see the urgency in his eyes.

  “When the hallucinations first started, Nicky said that Mrs. Beckett was using her powers to butcher human children from the neighborhoods. I still remember that night he told me. It was so off base that I didn’t know what to do. So, I ignored it.”

  Telling all my secrets was a lot easier than I had anticipated. They flowed from me. I felt like a sinner in confession and Gideon was my priest.

  “He killed her?” His face was still close to mine, eyes boring into my own.

  I nodded solemnly. “He was caught in the act. Too busy separating Mrs. Beckett's head from her body to stop.” A shiver ran through my body. “Somehow, he escaped the SI and has been on the run ever since. He thinks he’s enacting his own form of justice on supernatural creatures he's deemed dangerous, like a real-life Buffy the vampire slayer. But, he’s just insane.”

  I didn’t know where it all went wrong. I’d gone over our history together, searching for the clues that should’ve notified me of Nicky’s madness. But, I couldn’t find them, which made it even worse. I should’ve stopped him. If anyone, it should’ve been me.

  “I wish you would’ve told me all this in the beginning, instead of making me find out through my colleagues back in Texas.” Gideon dropped my hands. He leaned back onto his heels.

  “But, it wouldn’t have mattered,” I said defensively. “I don’t know where Nicky is – no one does. He’s still going to kill them.”

  My rage was beginning to build again. Over the past seven years, I’d kept track of Nicky on the supernatural news blogs from around the country. He’d killed probably about a dozen people and creatures. Sure, some of them were definitely bad people, but that didn’t give him the right to play judge and executioner.

  “We’re going to stop him.” Gideon stood up and dusted off his knees. “And you’re going to tell me everything you know. But first, I need some whiskey. Come on, there’s a bar across the street.”

  I was about to object, but the idea of a little liquid courage didn’t sound half bad. Gideon pulled me off the couch and I followed him. He swung open the door to leave, and ran smack dab into Ian Welch and his cameraman standing outside. Ian fell to the floor from the collision. He looked up at Gideon with a plastic smile, ignoring his obvious lack of apology.

  “What are you doing here?” Gideon demanded.

  He tried to be smooth and close the door behind him, but it was too late. They spotted me.

  “Is Aya Harris a person of interest?” Ian barked, bouncing back up to his feet. He threw the foam microphone in Gideon’s face, but received a glare instead. “Is she helping you catch the killer?”

  “Aya Harris is simply a resident of this apartment. No further comment. Now get out of my way.”

  “Are you engaging in an illicit affair with a suspect, Agent Ward?

  The temperature in the hallway jumped by a few degrees. Gideon snarled at Ian Welch, the air around him full of static electricity. For the first time, I could see the supernatural in him. His body seemed to fill up the entire space, although he stood just short of six feet. At the same time, an intense energy radiated from his eyes, turning the normally hazel color into a vivid green. Boy, was I glad not to be on the receiving end of that glare.

  “Stop trying to make a story out of nothing,” I said, stepping between them, my hands on their chests. Gideon’s heart pounded under my fingers, the heat of his body soaking into the palm of my hand. “There’s nothing here. I’m just trying to help Agent Ward answer some questions. I’m sure they’ll let you know when they have something.”

  We didn’t have time for a fight between a Child of Moros and a hell demon. While I was sure Gideon could hold his own, anyone could see the demon housed within Ian’s bag of flesh was itching to jump to the surface. Most of the hell demons were relatively weak on Earth’s surface, but a few of them could really pack a punch. I didn’t want to find out what kind of demon Ian Welch had sold his soul to for a bit of fame.

  Ian smiled at me, his cheeks straining with the effort. “Sure, sure. No story here. Well, keep us informed.”

  He jerked his head at his cameraman and they both made a swift exit to the street. Gideon watched them go, his hands on his waist like some imposing superman figure. I realized my hand was still on his chest, so I slowly dropped my arm.

  “Whiskey. Need bar and whiskey now.” Gideon’s voice was hoarse.

  He gave me a desperate look and I nodded, leading the way.

  Across the street was a little hole-in-the-wall place called Larry’s. It had the customary neon beer signs and dark tinted windows. They didn’t serve food and they didn’t serve fancy mixed drinks. Their customers came for something a bit more standard. The bartender didn’t blink an eye when Gideon ordered us each a double whiskey, neat.

  “Sorry about that.” Gideon gulped his drink and turned to me. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

  He didn’t need to apologize to me. Ian Welch and his crappy microphone could push anyone too far.

  “That’s okay. You should see me when I lose my temper. Not pretty.” I took a sip and cringed. It’d been a long time since I’d tasted whiskey or anything stronger than my merlot.

  “I have a hard time imagining you as anything but pretty.”

  Gideon swallowed the rest of his drink and raised his finger to the bartender for another round. He gave me just enough time to hide the look of pleasant embarrassment on my face before turning to me again.

  “No really, it’s a harpy thing.” The words spilled out of my mouth with nervous energy. I’d only known him two days, but he already had a way of making me lose control of my thoughts and my tongue. “We’re all talons and big black wings. My wings could stretch from that wall to those tables.” I pointed at a table about six feet away. “It’s really scary.”

  “Until I met you, I always thought harpies were half bird,” Gideon said. He swirled his whiskey in the glass, staring at the amber liquid. “And old. Half bird, half old ugly woman.”

  I laughed. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that.

  “Yeah, that’s the rumor. But fortunately for me, I’ve only got the wings and talons. And I’m not an ugly old woman.”

  “No, not even close.”

  I looked up from my drink into Gideon’s eyes. They’d reverted back from vivid green into their former hazel color. Worry and stress were still etched into his face, but the whiskey had already relaxed some of the lines.

  He was the type of man it was impossible to stay angry with. Even though my blind date was bound to hate me for skipping out on our date, at that moment, I didn’t care about Trevor or what he thought.

  “How did you find out about Nicky?” I hated to change the subject, but Gideon’s gaze was making me nervous. A dangerous heat had started to rise in my stomach, and I was in a rush to put it out. “Was it the feather?”

  The bartender refilled his drink and left the whiskey bottle on the bar for us, returning to the small flat screen on the other end of the bar. A football game was on. The camera was panning in on some players dumping water over their heads on the sidelines while the announcers discussed a bad call a referee had made just minutes ago.

  “Yeah, the feather was our first clue,” Gideon said. “The SI has been tracking your brother for the past seven years. A colleague from headquarters called me today about the possible connection and when they told me they suspected Nicolo Harris was involved, I realized it was your brother.”

  I figured that the SI would be keeping tabs on Nicky. It wasn’t often that the supernatural world had a serial kille
r targeting their own. And with all of their magical resources, criminals were usually bagged and tagged right away. But somehow, Nicky had evaded them all these years. He must’ve learned a few magical tricks of his own.

  Gideon’s eyes trailed toward the TV. He watched a play before responding again. “His behavior’s escalating. He’s found a way to suck the power out of his victims before he kills them. It’s a long and brutal process, which takes days of bloodletting and ritual. You saw the symbols on Mr. Yonas in the pictures. From what we’ve learned, he can harvest the powers into a talisman that allows him to borrow them for a short time, before they expire.”

  I felt my mouth fall open. “He’s killing people to take their powers?”

  “As far as we know, he’s still only killing people he thinks are evil. That was, until the Yonas family.” Gideon topped off my barely touched glass of whiskey. “Either way, I don’t take too kindly to people who think they get to dole out justice in their own fashion. I don’t like vigilantes. They’re just as bad as the criminals.”

  I took a big swallow from my glass. Gideon probably hated harpies. They had a reputation for acting like vigilantes. Our visions helped us stay a step ahead of the SI and nab the bad guys for a trial and sentencing through the HQ. In Chicago, they were considered a nuisance to the local agents, even though crime among the supernatural had dropped to nearly nothing.

  When I was about six years old, my mother came home one night after a long weekend away. She’d been in Ukraine or Poland or some neighboring country. I remember climbing into her lap with my little pigtails bouncing, begging her to tell me about her trip. It was one of the few times she actually talked about it.

  One of her sisters had received a vision of a creature made of wood hiding in an ancient forest. It snuck out at night and stole young women from a local village, and sacrificed them under the harvest moon to preserve its immortality. Killing humans was an act punishable by death to the harpies. My mother traveled there with several others to capture the creature and bring it home for a taste of harpy justice.