Immortally Ever After

by Angie Fox

  The other ladies voiced their approval while I fought the urge to slide boneless onto the marble floor.

  Now if only I could get her away for a quick exam, I’d be able to get out of here.

  “Wait,” Atropos said behind me, as if she knew what I’d been thinking. “We have a gift.”

  Everyone turned to the Moirae sisters.

  Klotho gave a beneficent smile. “We are so proud of you. And we know you will make a wonderful mother. You will be fierce and loyal. Loving and strong. Ask what you would like for your daughter, and we will give it.”

  The room hushed.

  “Ask for revenge,” Stheno urged.

  “Or the destruction of your daughter’s enemies,” said the gray woman.

  “She doesn’t have any enemies,” I protested. Medusa’s daughter hadn’t even been born yet.

  “Right,” Medusa said. “Maybe I can ask for some enemies for her.”

  No. Wrong. Geez, these people! I had to get out of here before I clocked them over the head. “Let her make a difference in the world.”

  They looked at me like I was sporting five heads and a unicycle.

  Oh, come on. “Let her be someone who impacts the world for good.” It’s what I had always wanted to do. And now, I might never get my wish. But this kid could. “Let her be the one who changes lives for the better.”

  Medusa frowned. “And this will make her happy?”

  I sighed, losing some of my steam. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted,” I told her.

  She gave a sly grin, turning to the Fates. “I want my daughter to make a difference. Change lives. I want her to be epic!”

  The Fates nodded, while Medusa’s relatives grumbled.

  I only hoped Klotho and company would work for the good. Medusa had left that part out. I doubted she’d include it even if I reminded her.

  But it was refreshment time and everyone was hungry. While the guests crowded around a table laden with olives, cheeses, and cake, I managed a word with Medusa.

  She wore her crown of bones and clutched her belly with grim determination. “I feel like a kraken,” she grumbled. “I want this baby out of me now.”

  “Your daughter will come when she’s ready,” I assured her.

  “I’m not sleeping. I can barely eat. Nothing else will fit inside me.” She caught Atropos by the sleeve of her long dress. “You. You control fate. Get this baby out of me.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” I warned, noticing Galen in conversation with Klotho and Lakhesis. He’d better be charming the Fates. “Come,” I said to Medusa, “is there somewhere private we can go? I’ll give you an exam and let you know how close you are.”

  Medusa showed me to a nursery, decorated in pink and sea-foam green. A lovely mobile of dried bones crackled above a crib straight out of the Pottery Barn Kids catalogue. How did she even get that down here?

  Pink teddy bears brightened the matching white changing table, along with bubbling vases of heaven knew what.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked as she slithered past the bookshelves lining the walls, running her hand over titles like Grimm’s Fairy Tales and The Gashlycrumb Tinies.

  “Tired, bloated.” She sat on the daybed by the window and I opened my medical kit.

  Her blood pressure looked good. Weight was up (although she refused to look at my portable scale). Her measurements were on track as well.

  “My mother will not even attend my shower,” she said, as I listened to her heartbeat.

  “She’ll come around.” I hoped so, for both their sakes.

  “She’d better,” Medusa hissed.

  There was a sharp rap at the door. “Just a minute,” I said, as she shrugged back into her party dress. “Do you need a refill on your prenatals?” I asked. It’s not like she could get to the MASH 3063rd pharmacy if she refused to set foot in camp.

  When she didn’t reply, I handed her a bottle.

  “Horse pills,” she grumbled, accepting them.

  “Petra.” Galen gave a double knock.

  “I am dressed,” Medusa said, stuffing the vitamins into the pocket of her gown as Galen entered the room.

  His face was drawn, his body taut. “The second prophecy is in.”

  “That fast?” I asked, wide-eyed. So Leta was our bronze weapon. A fricking dragon.

  “I saw it myself,” Galen said, joining us. “The servants have a television set up in the butler’s pantry.”

  Medusa rolled her eyes. “Temps!”

  “So what did they say?” I pressed.

  Grim, he looked at Medusa’s belly, then back to me. “‘The child of the damned shall damn us all.’”

  chapter seventeen

  Medusa clasped her hands to her chest. “My child is going to be someone!”

  Never mind the child of the damned was going to damn us all.

  Oh, my God. This was my fault. I told Medusa to wish for a special child. I’d influenced the prophecies in the worst way possible.

  I stepped back, tried to think. “The child of the damned … It might not be her,” I said, pointing to my patient, desperate for that to be true.

  Medusa could be a handful from time to time. Okay, all the time. But I couldn’t see her child bringing about the destruction of … everything.

  Galen hooked his thumbs under his weapons belt. He wasn’t buying it for a second. “The oracles are wearing snakeskins,” he said in that you’ve-got-to-see-this-coming kind of way.

  “Coincidence?” I answered, ready and willing to be as difficult as possible.

  For God’s sake, I was her doctor.

  Medusa coiled to her full height, her tail rattling. “Are you saying I’m not evil enough?”

  “What?” No. This wasn’t a challenge. It was a sick mistake. My mistake and I didn’t know how I was going to fix it.

  I didn’t want to deliver the child who would damn us all.

  “This is not why I got into medicine,” I said, as if that made a difference.

  The snakes in her hair writhed in fury. “I am Medusa,” she rumbled, her voice echoing off the walls, “serpent-goddess, executioner of men, scourge of Kisthene’s plain.”

  Shit. Her eyes were glowing.

  “Look away,” Galen warned.

  Medusa hissed and the air itself thickened. “You will not say my child is unworthy!”

  I brought my hands up to cover my eyes, ready to squeeze them shut if she lost control.

  “We just heard!” The door banged back on its hinges as Stheno and an entire gaggle of women slithered into the room.

  Medusa’s snarl notched down to a low rumble as the baby-shower crowd gathered around her.

  Disaster averted. For now.

  Medusa’s sister winked at me. “Great idea, doctor.”

  I dropped my hands to my sides. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  The gray woman stood next to her, nodding. “I’ll certainly be summoning you when I have a bun in the oven.”

  Medusa huffed, her red eyes dimming back to brown as Lakhesis and Atropos eased her into her rocking chair. “I want to meet my baby. Besides, I feel so large and round. I am done with being pregnant.”

  Atropos patted her on the arm. “Every woman reaches that point sooner or later, dear.”

  The gorgon wasn’t convinced. “For the love of all that is unholy, can you just put me into labor?” She ran her hands over her protruding belly.

  “No, you will not,” I warned the Fates. We didn’t need to rush the child of the damned.

  Lakhesis leaned close to Medusa. “We’ll talk about it after she leaves.”

  Great.

  At least they’d gotten Medusa a glass of punch. She needed to stay hydrated.

  Galen came up next to me. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said, his voice low.

  “Right,” I said. I’d done enough damage for one day.

  Besides, I needed to talk to Galen. Alone.

  Even without the prophecy, I was h
aving second thoughts about this entire thing, and particularly Medusa’s ability to stay calm during delivery. I didn’t need anyone getting turned into stone, least of all me.

  “You need to come to the MASH 3063rd to deliver,” I told her. “If we have any complications”—like me turning into a terrified limestone statue—“that’s the best place for treatment.”

  Medusa snarled in her throat, but she didn’t argue.

  Thank goodness.

  I edged around the baby shower crowd. “Call me if you need me,” I said. Then, turning my attention to the Fates, I added, “No early labor. It won’t be good for the baby.” Or humanity.

  Their overly innocent expressions didn’t fool me for a second.

  Galen and I were on our way to the door when I saw Klotho hovering at the edge of the impromptu party, studying baby-to-be’s book collection. Her gaze caught mine. Her skin was sallow, her nose hooked.

  “Hold on a sec.” I steeled myself as I made my way to her side.

  The Fates were tricky. I knew that. But I refused to think there was no way out of this.

  “Don’t you just love what she did with this room?” Klotho said to me, fingering the bookends, as if that were the point. “Such craftsmanship.” She lifted a skull Medusa had decorated with rough-cut jewels and a pink silk scratch guard.

  “It’s great,” I said automatically, watching the wrinkled corners of her mouth turn up. I blew out a breath. I wasn’t sure if I’d get an answer but I had to ask. “I know what I did. I messed with the prophecies.”

  She ran a bony finger over a dead eye socket. “Exactly what are you admitting, healer?”

  Nothing she didn’t know already. “How do I fix it?”

  She tilted her head. She knew.

  Damn. These creatures really did have power. I’d never thought about the Fates or what these three could do until this latest prophecy had come in.

  Maybe it was a coincidence that Medusa had asked for a special child moments before the oracle came down, but I didn’t think so.

  She studied me. Up close, she smelled like dried cloth and sand. Wrinkles carved deep into her skin, her eyes a vivid green. “You wanted to make a difference.” She touched a hand to my arm. Her skin was papery. I could feel the bones underneath.

  My lungs tightened and I found it hard to draw a breath. “I don’t want to be responsible for damning anyone.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to choose,” she said, turning away.

  I started after her, but Galen intercepted me. “Let her go.”

  He was right. Nothing I could say would make a difference. This was all a sick game to them.

  We had to get out of here and figure out what we were going to do about this prophecy.

  We made our way down the long marble hallway. I was pretty proud that I matched his stride. Of course, I was taking two steps for every one of his, but still.

  “At least we have the bronze weapon,” he said.

  I snorted. “I’m still trying to figure out how an angry, half-crazed dragon is going to save us all from the child of the damned.”

  We found ourselves back in the sitting room where we’d had the party. The gray woman’s spider necklace inched up the wall.

  I didn’t see any way around it. Medusa’s child would be born. I’d always thought the prophecies would bring us peace. I never thought that peace would be achieved by damning everyone. I didn’t even know how one child could wipe out both armies.

  We couldn’t let it happen. Still, “I can’t kill Medusa’s baby.”

  “I know,” he said, heading for the main entryway, cluttered with fallen heroes. I looked into their dead eyes, stepping over broken columns and abandoned swords. “We’ll find a way to make this right.”

  “Are you sure about that?” I asked, as he lifted me over a particularly big slab of stone.

  His fingers tightened on my waist as he set me down safely. “No.”

  * * *

  Oh, good. Now all we had to do was find our way home on the back of a fire-breathing chimera. Of course at that point, I would have climbed on the back of a velociraptor if it meant getting out of here.

  The beast stomped and belched flames as we approached. Show-off.

  I glanced back at Medusa’s lair as the sun set behind it and hoped Marc had at least gotten our bronze weapon under control. We needed something to go right.

  The ride back was bumpy, and dark—save for occasional snorts from our ride. We made it back to the tar pits at around midnight.

  It was pitch-black as Galen slid off and quickly dragged me down after him. I was still getting my legs steady as the chimera bellowed and dashed out into the desert. Its cries echoed, growing more distant.

  “You okay?” Galen asked. I was pressed close to him and didn’t make any effort to move.

  I cleared my throat. The truth was, I needed his touch. Like it or not, Galen’s strength, his presence, his love was one of the few things I could count on in this war.

  Especially after a day like this one.

  I buried my cheek against his shoulder, felt the roughness of his uniform against it. “Thanks for coming today.” Looking back, I couldn’t imagine going through that alone.

  He held me, and I savored his warmth, his steady breath. “I’ve always got you, especially where big bad beasts are concerned.”

  “Not just with the chimera,” I said, needing to make it clear, for him and for me. I drew back, willing him to see the truth as I spoke it. “It felt good walking in there with you.” And I’d sure as hell needed him beside me on the way out.

  The stupid thing was, I’d been so worried about what we’d do when the time came for him to leave again. But now, we had days, hours maybe, until the axe came down and all I wanted was him.

  Galen was my rock, my partner, the person I’d want beside me if I had to go to hell and back.

  He touched my chin, his fingers caressing the soft spot behind my ear. “Now she admits it,” he said, with a touch of irony.

  A tingle of guilt flitted through me. “I may have been dumb, but at least I’ve been honest,” I said, drawing my hands up his chest.

  His chest rumbled under my fingers. “Too honest.”

  “Says the former demigod of truth.”

  His breath quickened under my palms as I unzipped his top zipper. “It’s not like we have to be at death’s door in order to get through to me,” I said.

  He chuckled low in his throat. “It helps.”

  Yeah, it did. The tar pits bubbled softly behind us. My insides quivered as he pressed a hand to my back and drew me closer. I nipped at his collarbone.

  I could be bullheaded and I could be an idiot, but after what I’d seen tonight, I’d have to be crazy to turn down my chance with this man.

  It was nuts. I’d been so worried about the future and what everything meant, but I’d never stopped to realize that maybe all we’d have was today.

  The prophecies were made to serve the gods, not us.

  All we had was each other.

  Galen’s lips trailed down my neck and over my collarbone. Liquid fire shot through me as he caressed my breasts.

  I didn’t know how much longer I’d have with him—how much time either one of us would have to be whole and alive. Here. But I was done wasting it.

  “Where’s your tent?” I asked, desperate but sure—more sure than I’d been in a long time.

  I gasped as his thumbs grazed my nipples. “Two down from yours,” he said, voice tight.

  Too far.

  It was dark. We were alone.

  He was the one I could count on, the man I could trust. He’d be there to keep me safe, to keep me strong and sane, and love me for as long as he could. I just wished we had longer.

  His breath came in raspy puffs as I undid the zipper near his waist. I was really beginning to dig flight suits.

  I dropped light kisses on his mouth. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”

  He slanted hi
s mouth over mine and kissed me hard. He tasted so good. “Then don’t,” he said against my lips. He threaded his fingers through my hair, drawing me back for a long, lingering kiss.

  I ached for him, needed him like my next breath.

  Before, I could say that I made love to him in the heat of the moment. That it was a reaction. That I did it out of hurt or fear or hell, out of lust.

  But now, I wanted it to be a choice.

  War was a waste. Death was a waste. But this, I would not throw away. Never again.

  “I love you, Galen,” I murmured against his heated skin.

  He rested his forehead against mine. “I’ve never wanted anyone but you.”

  He groaned as I ran a hand over his rigid length. “Let’s go somewhere else.” He spoke as if the words were being pulled from him.

  But I wasn’t going to stop. This was right. And we were going to be together, here, for as long as we could.

  I dropped to my knees, sinking down into the soft sand, tugging his zipper along with me. His stomach trembled as cool air touched his skin.

  He was luscious. Powerful. Mine.

  I closed my mouth over the head of his cock and heard his intake of breath, felt a slight shake in his knees. This man faced down demigods, beasts, and immortal warriors. Yet he shook for me.

  He wanted me.

  I ran my tongue around the head of his cock, tasting the saltiness of him before plunging down and taking as much of him as I could.

  Hades, it felt good. I was powerful. Needy. And not afraid to take what I wanted. I let go and savored him—us—for the first time in I couldn’t remember how long.

  He wound his fingers through my hair, caressed my neck. He cursed when I cupped his balls. “God, I never thought I’d have you like this again.”

  His flight suit hit the ground and he stood before me completely naked while I worked his cock. He was beautiful. Fantastic in the dim light of the moon. I drew the pleasure from him, gave to him in the most primitive way I knew how, until he bent at the waist, his fingers running through my hair.

  “Hold up. I don’t want to…”

  I sucked harder.

  He cursed and came hard in my mouth.

  Afterward, he took two steps. Then with a grunt, he sat hard on the sand next to me.