Medusa's Heart: A Contemporary Paranormal Erotic Romance Novel

by Joey W. Hill

  “Medusa.”

  She turned at the welcome sound of Clara’s pleased voice. The young woman linked arms with her with relaxed familiarity and beamed over her head at John. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” John glanced around her. “Where’s your shadow?”

  “Oh, Marcellus had some security stuff to do. We’re all safe here, or at least I’ve convinced him we’re safe enough he doesn’t have to be right on top of me.”

  Satisfied, John turned to answer a question Gundar had asked. “Much as that would be a lovely thing to contemplate,” Clara muttered to Medusa.

  Medusa gave her a curious look. Clara changed the subject though, dipping her head closer to Medusa’s in girl-to-girl conspiracy. Not at all put off by her snakes, the young woman blew a playful puff of air at the bemused Waterlight.

  “Already shopping I see. Another fabulous thing about being part of the Circus is you can earmark the stuff you like. First choice goes to ticket holders, but if you really like something, we’ll make up another one for you during the off times, and charge the family price, which is basically cost of the materials. I came to find you because Charlie wants you. She has an outfit she says will look beautiful on you for the Promenade, if you decide to do it. No charge. Just part of the costuming she does for all of our acts. You give it back afterward.”

  Clara lifted her head again to draw John’s attention. “Can I borrow her for just a little while and show her around? Marcellus is going to use you on the security detail, so if you go find him he’ll show you some things. Nothing physically exerting; just explanatory stuff.” She dimpled. “Yvette figured that would help you not go so crazy, seeing all this work going on around you and not being able to help out until tomorrow.”

  John looked a little sheepish and manfully tried to cover. “I’m okay. I can handle a day of relaxing, especially in the company of a beautiful woman.”

  “Even on the island, you preferred to spend time with me while we were doing something,” Medusa pointed out. Then warmed from head to toe at his significant look. “Like gardening or repairing things.”

  “Among other things.” He grinned. “But I guess we can’t do those things all the time. Well, maybe here you can.”

  “Truer words. Some of the people here are capable of it. Yvette, Merc…” Clara stopped herself. “But it sounds like Medusa knows you pretty well.”

  “She does at that.” John gave Medusa a more serious look. “I promised we’d spend the day together.”

  “Yes. But as she said, it is only for a little while.”

  She actually wasn’t comfortable with the idea of being away from him, but her caution was based on long habit, not on any evidence she was in danger. If John Pierce had any doubts on that at all, he wouldn’t be willing to leave her side. As much as she’d anticipated having a full day together, she realized now was as good as any other time to prove to both of them she could be away from him in a new environment without falling apart. She straightened her shoulders. “Go see Marcellus. I’ll be fine.”

  “You are that.” He stepped closer and tipped up her chin, brushing her lips with his own. His steel gray eyes held hers. He didn’t seem to mind that Clara stood only an arm’s length away. “I won’t be far. If you need me for anything, you have someone find me. Say it.”

  “I will come find you.” She whispered the words, because her voice had deserted her under that intense look.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say she couldn’t imagine not needing him every moment of the day. That was such a girlishly romantic notion she held it back for fear of embarrassing them both. Though it didn’t feel girlish at all. The words came straight from her woman’s heart.

  They’d established their connection on her island, but amid all these new people and experiences, it was as if was deliberately choosing behavior and words that increased the energy in that bond. She wasn’t sure how he was working such magic, but when she made herself pivot and let Clara take her away without looking back, she realized her knees were a bit shaky.

  “Wow,” Clara murmured to her. “He can just…wow. Marcellus can do that, too. He just gets this look, and he steps into my space, and takes up all the air, and I don’t care, I’d let him breathe for me and…”

  She startled Medusa when she gave herself a quick slap in the face with her own hand. “Snap out of it,” Clara said, seemingly to herself. She linked arms with Medusa.

  “You’re doing great,” Clara said encouragingly. “He probably knows you’re nervous about it, but I think he gets that you want to prove you can be independent in a not-so-familiar place. He might like it if you looked over your shoulder at him just once, though. For all the tough, sexy Dom vibes, he’s a little nervous about leaving you on your own, too.”

  Relieved to have an excuse to do exactly what her heart wanted to do, Medusa glanced back. John Pierce was watching her, but at her expression, his own eased into a warm smile and he answered her wave with one of his own.

  “There we go. Now you’re both happier,” Clara said.

  Feeling somewhat foolish, Medusa sought something else to talk about. “I could help with security.”

  “Unfortunately, no.” Clara nudged her. “You look more than capable of taking someone down, but the security detail has to blend. If people are crowding around you, wanting to see your snakes, it’d be hard for you to keep an eye on things. Marcellus has a way of disguising his wings so people just see a scary-looking guy doing security, and most of the rest of our security people are like that. You should see Caleb. He’s built like a mountain. We’ve used him in strongman acts, but when we don’t need him for that, he does security.”

  “What about Merc?”

  Clara grimaced. “Merc can’t tone down the incubus thing. Or won’t. So Yvette keeps him as a performer.”

  “Is he…safe?” Medusa didn’t want to offend, but Clara didn’t seem taken aback by the question.

  “Yes and no. Most of the women here avoid situations where we’re alone with him. Just good common sense. Temptation is hard for someone with his nature to resist, and once you’re caught in that net, it ramps up considerably. That part is kind of out of his control, but there’s a twisted meanness to him that adds to it. That meanness came from the paths he’s chosen. Though it may not seem like it, what with the sarcastic asshole routine, he is sincerely trying a different path here, which is why Yvette is tolerating him, for the time being. We all get that it’s a rough road.”

  Clara shrugged. “Most Circus people have stories and pasts, some with bad triggers. He’s probably the one of us with the worst. Yvette and the others keep a really close eye on him. Marcellus in particular, partly because of the angel blood and partly because, well, he’s Marcellus. Protecting is what he does, even if it’s protecting Merc from himself.”

  “What… I do not want to ask too many questions.”

  “That’s not possible.” Clara squeezed her arm. “I had so many when I came, it took days to answer them all. What else do you want to know? Fire away.”

  “Can you explain more about the Promenade?” She’d told herself she wouldn’t even contemplate it. She had more than enough adjustments to make, but she’d woken thinking about Gundar’s words, and wondering…

  “Oh.” Clara brightened. “It’s the most wonderful part of every show. At the end of the performance, we parade past the audience, and then go up in the stands with them, or invite them down into the rings, depending on what kind of fun we’re offering. Eventually everyone ends up milling around together like one big party, natives and performers.”

  She laughed at herself. “Natives being the local people who buy tickets. I’m falling into circus lingo more and more. Anyway, the Promenade post-show is where you see a better side of Merc. He’ll give the kids rides and he’s really, shockingly great with them. Something about children drops his defenses. It does everyone, doesn’t it? If the security is covered, Marcellus will do the ride thing as well.”<
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  “So they touch you, talk to you?”

  “Yes.” Clara’s gaze slid over her snakes. “They would adore you. You’d be a hit faster than a sneeze. Will the snakes let kids touch them?”

  “I do not know. They pick up on my emotions. If I am comfortable and relaxed, usually they are the same.”

  “Cool. We have some kids here. We can see how they react. A mini-testing ground.”

  “I am not sure if I want to do the Promenade,” Medusa said uneasily. Perhaps Clara would assume her questions meant she was going to do it.

  Clara touched her arm. “There’s no pressure at all, but go ahead and try out the snakes with the kids here. That way, on performance day, if it looks too fun to pass up, you’ll already know how your snakes will do with the little people. But whether you participate or not, you should definitely still wear the outfit Charlie’s recommending for you. It’s kind of standard anyhow. Any of the players or staff wandering around where guests might see them are required to have a ‘uniform’ of sorts that says you’re part of the show. We get to choose what that is, but it can’t be what we’d wear for day-to-day.”

  She ran an appraising gaze over Medusa in her new clothes. “Though the jeans and tee look beyond fantastic on you, I have to say. With the wings and snakes, there’s this ultra-cool visual contrast between the real world and the fantasy one. You look like you stepped out of a graphic novel. What did John think?”

  When she’d emerged from the wagon in the outfit, John had gazed at her for a long, unsettling moment. He’d dressed by the shower, since it was easier to do so outside with his large frame, and he looked quite distracting in the jeans that creased in the right places and the dragon T-shirt that molded his powerful upper body.

  His eyes had coursed over the baby doll tee. It provided a frame for her breasts in front, pushed up and displayed a little more prominently thanks to the bra garment. The hem of the shirt stopped at her hip bones, so his view of her lower body in the snug jeans was not hampered.

  He’d backed her up against the side of the wagon and slid an arm around her waist, hand dipping into the jeans pocket to cup her buttock. Just like in the shower, he’d lifted her effortlessly against the solid wall behind her and given her another kiss that left her heart pounding and the snakes limp on her shoulders.

  “He liked it.”

  Clara grinned. “Yeah, that dreamy look on your face told me that even before you said it. Men are great at making us feel pretty, aren’t they?”

  She thought of her impulsive admission to John that he made her feel beautiful. He’d done more than that, though. He’d opened her eyes to evaluating her appearance based on her own standards, not those of others. When she’d looked in the mirror, for the first time she’d noted the golden smoothness of her skin, how the red of her eyes were like rose petals. Her hair was thick and lustrous, adding to the gleam of the snakes’ scales as they wove through it.

  She was still amazed by her hands, the short nails and slim fingers, finally once again her own. Though the part of her that stayed on guard regretted losing the fight advantage the talons had given her, she would figure out something she could trade Gundar for one of his knives and compensate for that in a different way.

  Medusa pulled herself out of weapons planning. She was in a safe place right now. She didn’t have to plan for the next fight, though it seemed prudent to keep it in mind. She figured John Pierce would agree with her. Another thing they had in common.

  “Will you tell me more about what they do during the Promenade?”

  “Sure. We also do a quick, informal Circus school for the kids. Like we set up a small ground level trapeze unit and the trapeze artists demonstrate basics, putting people in harnesses so they can give them a try. Caleb will let them load up his shoulders with a dozen kids to prove his strength. The dwarves take them on mini-train rides down into a “mine shaft,” one of Yvette’s special illusions. We pass out candy and trinkets, like shiny cheap bracelets, balloons, fun things like that. It all usually runs for about a couple hours, though one night it went on until past midnight. There’s an energy to it that feeds us. And speaking of feeding...”

  With a quick grin, Clara stopped by a large open tent surrounded by the appetizing aroma of cooking food. “They’re making an Italian sweet bread today. They bake it in these little braided lengths, perfect for carrying around as snacks. Marcellus says it’s as good as manna, which is high praise from an angel, since the only food they can really taste is manna. Flag’s not up yet for lunch, but let’s see if we can grab a handful from Mary. She’s the best cook in the known universe.”

  Clara introduced Medusa to Mary and the busy cooking crew, and snagged two fizzy drinks she called a Coca Cola to go with the braided sticks of bread. The dough, faintly sweet, practically melted on the tongue. Medusa had to agree that it was up to the standards of food for the angels.

  Clara was watching her eat. Before Medusa could get self-conscious, Clara lifted her blouse, showing her a delicate jewel piercing the thin skin above her navel. “You should consider getting a tongue piercing. With your tongue forked like that, you could do a pair of sparkling gems. It would look like a set of dragon’s eyes. Your whole look just screams for awesome accessories. I think that’s why Charlie is so eager to get her hands on you for some of her costuming.”

  Medusa wiped her mouth with her napkin, touching her tongue thoughtfully with her fingertips. She’d always treated it as something to hide, unless it provided her an advantage over her enemies, but looking at the variety of jewels Clara wore so well had her thinking. What would John Pierce think of it? How would such an accoutrement feel, sliding over his skin…

  As they took their leave of the cook house—apparently called that by all the Circus players, despite it being a large tent—Medusa tuned back in to find Clara had changed subjects again. The young woman was good at offering suggestions to mull upon without lingering long enough for them to hit uncomfortable terrain. She was liking Clara more and more by the minute.

  “Initially, we all took turns cooking,” Clara was saying. “Those of us who stay during the one-month off periods still do. That’s so the cooking folks can vacation. However, we’ve gotten so big and busy, and doing so many shows, Yvette realized we had to hire a dedicated staff just to handle food so we didn’t lose performance prep time foraging for ourselves.”

  While Medusa was listening, she was also occupied with the staff’s reaction to her. Mostly friendly, speculative looks, and she was quietly thrilled with every face-to-face introduction. She was being treated the way any newcomer would be in a group where…she belonged. Her appearance made them curious, not repelled.

  “You must have many acts that look different, like me,” she ventured.

  “Well, you saw the dragons yesterday. We also have a coven of witches who do a mock battle with the magicians. Then there are talking goats, a griffin, and the lizard boys who delight in blending with their surroundings so they can jump out at the girls and get them to squeal. There’s also a lot of us who look ‘normal’ but are anything but, so they have a harder time blending in normal society than they first appear. We’ve barely covered a third of this place.”

  She smiled at Medusa. “Let me give you the full tour and, when your feet are aching, we’ll head back to Charlie’s and let you check out her outfits. She said she was going to be doing alterations most the morning so we could come by anytime. We also have centaurs, giants, a unicorn…

  “A unicorn?”

  “Yeah.” Clara grinned at her expression. “You know what those are? Well, I guess you do since you all have Pegasii and all that.”

  Medusa’s brow creased. “Pegasii?”

  “Winged horses? Pegasus? Wasn’t sure if that was the proper plural.”

  “Oh, yes, we have those in our stories. I had not heard them called that.”

  “Hmm. Just goes to show even mythology can fall prey to grapevine distortion. What do you know about unicor
ns? Have you met one before?”

  “No. I dreamed of one for a while, when I was younger. There was something special about her, something I could not explain. Then I stopped dreaming about her. I missed her, though I know it sounds peculiar to miss a dream.”

  Clara did a little spin, apparently just for the joy of doing it, sending her skirt wafting out from her in a colorful wave of movement. “Actually, a lot of things sound peculiar, but missing a dream doesn’t sound that way at all. Let’s go see Lianthe first. She doesn’t talk human, but she has her own way of speaking.”

  Now that she’d voiced it, Medusa felt childish about her eagerness, so she focused on something more practical as Clara changed course and headed toward the lake. “What kind of security issues does Marcellus handle? Are there any here?”

  “None to date. That’s why we all like the in-between. But he likes to stay ready just in case. Out in the ‘real world,’ there are your usual troublemakers. Other magic-users who know who and what we are and want to cause problems. Like MyTech. Yvette also sort of inherited the Circus and so she runs into periodic conflicts with the Vampire Council. They’ve gotten new leadership lately that’s more sympathetic to the Circus, so things are more copacetic with them these days. Thankfully.”

  Clara sighed. “On occasion we get a human who figures out our performers are the real deal. Then they get the brilliant idea to try and kidnap one of us. We have to watch out for Lianthe especially, in case someone wants his kid to have a special kind of pony and won’t take no for an answer. Yvette’s been offered all kinds of money for her. Even one time from a Russian mob boss. Think he never thought he’d meet someone scarier than himself, but now he knows better.”

  “I cannot believe anyone would think…”

  “Yeah, like she’s something to be bought and sold. I’m not even comfortable with treating animals everyone sees all the time like property. It seems wrong, like it denies they’re souls like the rest of us. But we don’t have that problem here.” She pointed toward several kittens playing beneath the shade of a wagon and grinned at their antics as one fuzzed up and danced away from the others. The siblings pounced on her and started a new wrestling match.