by Angie Fox
Medusa bore down with all her might. “Arrrrgggggg!”
“Good, good, good!”
I exhaled as the babe slid free, into my waiting arms. I turned her around, cradling her as she wriggled, her tiny fists closed tight. My heart did a flip-flop when she looked up at me with the biggest, most beautiful violet eyes. Her nose was a button, her little lips perfectly bowed. A baby asp gave the teeniest tiniest hiss as it curled around her cheek.
The winds had stopped, the air had stilled.
“She’s perfect,” I said.
I wrapped her in a clean towel. I didn’t trust my legs, so I walked the baby up on my knees. Gingerly, I eased the baby into her mother’s arms.
Medusa gasped. “She is perfect, isn’t she?” She snuggled the babe against her breast, murmuring and cooing.
I stayed there and checked to make sure mom was doing okay, but her gorgon body was already healing fast.
Muscles stiff, I stood and eased off the welding gloves.
“Keep them,” Father said, as he noticed the afterbirth sizzling at the tips. I dropped them where his trash can used to be. Then Father and I backed off to give Medusa and her baby some privacy.
I ventured a glance at the ruins of the doorway. The three intruders had been turned to stone. Only one of them had had the sense to duck. The other held his sword, ready to skewer us. And Thaïs, in stone as in life, sneered like the world had somehow forgotten to bow down and worship.
“Are you okay?” I asked Father. I saw that he’d managed to steady the cot with the remains of the heart monitor. Smart man. I hadn’t even noticed him doing it. Then again, I’d been distracted.
“I’ve never seen a birth,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “It’s a miracle!”
I shook my head. “It’s usually more organized.”
Then again, this was war. We were grateful when our patients lived, when we could send them back to the front to be shot at again. I’d never delivered a baby down here. I felt a burst of warmth.
This was the first time I was dealing in life instead of death.
I had to think it meant something for our future that a child could be born here, among the chaos. I glanced over at Medusa, murmuring kisses on the wee one’s forehead. This baby might be epic, but so was every child. This was a new life, a fresh start. A person with infinite possibilities ahead of her.
This was the moment when one child really could change the world.
I watched a little snake tail escape her makeshift blanket and curl around her mother’s arm.
This child—every child—was a gift. Innocent. And I refused to believe that something so beautiful could bring total disaster.
The sun hung low in the sky.
Father and I wandered past the smashed medical equipment and debris, to where his desk used to be. All of the walls were blown off his hutch. We’d lost the roof too.
Fitz whined and trotted in circles. Father bent down to hug and calm him.
“I’m sorry, Father.” Sorry for him, for me. For this war and everyone in it. I took a step and nearly crushed his seminary graduation photo, under smashed glass. I retrieved it for him as Father stroked Fitz’s head and let the hellhound lick his cheeks.
“Pictures. Stadium blankets. They’re only objects.” Father glanced around the ruined tent. “Although I admit I was growing a bit too fond of them.” His mouth twisted into a small smile. “It’s people who matter.”
I couldn’t agree more.
We stood inside the wooden frame of the hutch and looked out onto the minefield.
A light breeze nudged sheets of tattered canvas across the junkyard. The sun sent rainbows skittering down the broken windshield of a wrecked Humvee.
There was nothing to do now but wait.
I stiffened when I saw movement behind the burned-out ambulance. “Padre,” I warned.
He tried to nudge in front of me, which was sweet, but futile. Nothing would be able to protect me from the gods.
My palms slicked and my breath hitched.
I’d always known this day would come eventually.
If this was the way the gods wanted it, fine. I could deal. As long as they didn’t hurt anyone else, especially the baby.
There was only one of them. Although one was all they’d need. I wondered what kind of torture they’d chosen. Maybe I could bait this god and trick him into smiting me on the spot.
He was strong, sturdily built, and … wearing a brick-red flight suit. Sweet heaven. “Galen?”
My head felt light when he emerged from the mess.
Damn. It felt like I’d aged ten years since I’d last seen him. I flung my arms around him and kissed him soundly on the mouth.
“Thank God.” I nipped him on the mouth. “It’s.” I kissed him again. “You.” He felt so solid against me, so right. I was a wicked, stinking, gooey mess, but I didn’t care.
His hands tightened on my hips. “A man could get used to this.”
Father grinned and clapped Galen on the shoulder. “Good to see you, son.”
“I heard Thaïs was heading this way and thought there might be trouble,” he said, glancing past me to the ruins of the tent. “Clearly you’ve taken care of it.”
“It was actually a rather uneventful birth. Except for them.” We stopped in front of the statues of Thaïs and the two investigators.
“Yes,” Father said. “What are we going to do about this?”
Galen inspected Thaïs’s outthrust jaw and superior sneer. “Do we have to do anything?”
“Call me crazy,” I said, “but I think HQ’s going to notice.”
Medusa waved at Galen. “You came!” she exclaimed, as if he’d dropped by for a hospital visit.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, moving to her side. He pulled up Father’s discarded stool and sat to hold the baby. “Congratulations. She’s beautiful.” Galen cradled her while Medusa reached out to stroke her hair. “What’s her name?”
“Emma,” she said, growling gently. She glanced at Galen. “You don’t think that’s too common, do you?”
“No,” he said, as the baby gripped his finger. “I didn’t meet anyone on the Isle of Wrath and Pain named Emma.”
He looked so natural with the child, like a proud uncle. Pride swept through me, followed by a pang of regret. Galen would never know what it was like to have a child of his own. Neither would I.
We had no future. Unless we could somehow fix all of this.
After a while, Galen gave Emma back to Medusa and we moved away to give the two some privacy while she nursed.
Father had gone to fetch the new mamma something to eat.
We moved to the sculpture garden. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but it was hard with Galen right here, with me. So near I wanted to touch him, hold him.
We’d been through too much to let it end this way.
The child of the damned shall damn us all.
I ran my fingers across a particularly beautiful dove, poised to take flight off a twining metal olive tree. Father had given it a glittering yellow glass beak and pink-tipped wings. “I refuse to believe it,” I said to him, low so that Medusa wouldn’t overhear. “Baby Emma is a gift, not a curse.”
Galen stood opposite me. “Exactly. And I’m not sure what it means.”
It was the first time Galen had denied one of the prophecies could come true. I didn’t point it out. He knew.
Medusa and her child snuggled together, eyes closed. Several of the baby snakes had even curled to sleep. A few slithered lazily over Medusa’s hand, mouthing at her fingers.
I didn’t like waiting. There was too much at stake. I ran my hand harder against the sculpture, nearly slicing the pads of my fingers. “We need to strategize. Somehow, we need to change fate. Maybe it has been done before. It’s not like gods would broadcast that.”
We both glanced back at mother and child.
“Fitz.” Medusa frowned, her eyes half open.
The baby’s rattlesnake ta
il had escaped the blanket and the hellhound was licking it.
“Ew. Fitz,” I said, going for the dog.
The baby threw her arms out and laughed.
The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end as the air sizzled around us. “What the—” I stopped in my tracks as I heard the distinct crackling of a portal firing up.
Galen grabbed my hand and we both watched as a bundle of color spun in a compact spiral just beyond the minefield. It lingered waist-high, spitting energy and light.
It flickered at the edges, and it was small, but it was there. In fact, if I wasn’t mistaken, this was the same portal that had brought me to this cursed place.
Holy shit. “That’s the way to New Orleans,” I said, voice cracking.
I stared at Medusa, and the child she held. “Only the gods can open portals. This baby’s half damned.”
“Half god,” Galen said, his voice tight.
Medusa winked. “I’m not telling you who I slept with.”
I wanted to kiss her. Good thing I was too shocked to move.
Galen’s hold on me tightened. “Portals take you anywhere you want to go.”
The gods had kept them hidden from us. They’d trapped us here, isolated and unable to escape. Until now.
I turned to Medusa. “Make her laugh again.”
She smiled at my wide-eyed wonder and tickled her baby’s rattlesnake tail. Emma giggled and we were hit with another blast of heat as a faint red portal revealed itself directly over us.
Galen and I shielded our eyes. “Where the hell does that go?” I croaked.
“It’s a pathway of the gods,” he said.
As I live and breathe … “We definitely want to avoid that one.”
Galen watched it, as if he expected it to smite us any second. “Yes, we do.”
I couldn’t believe it. I was staring at our way out. “How did the gods even hide the portals?”
“Like this,” Medusa said, snapping her fingers. At once, the pathways disappeared.
“No!” I cried.
“Don’t yell in front of my baby,” Medusa scolded, as if she were the calm one. Luckily, little Emma was grinning up a storm. The gorgon let out a contented sigh and continued. “Portals are always there. The gods just mute them so mortals like you don’t do anything stupid.”
“But your child can unlock the portals.” Reveal them.
Medusa tucked Emma back into her blankets. “I told you she was special.”
“‘The child of the damned shall damn us all,’” I murmured under my breath. “But it’s not us. We’re not the ones being damned,” I said, the burden of it lifting.
“They were talking about the gods,” Galen said.
It made sense. The oracles served the gods after all.
I hadn’t known just how resigned to death and damnation I’d become until I realized that it wasn’t true. We could live. We could fight.
Or we could go home.
The child of the damned would damn them and their plans. She’d revealed a way for us to go home.
Galen stood as tense as I’d ever seen him, full of wound energy and strength. “We can leave,” he said, the possibility of it washing over him.
Yes. “With two opposing armies.” This could get interesting. The portals were weak. The logistics were a nightmare. And the gods would fight us. I knew they would. But this was our chance and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to take it. “Here’s what we need to do. We need to start sneaking people out of camp. Tonight.”
Galen looked at me like I was nuts. Which, okay, maybe I was. “You don’t think they’re going to notice when people go missing?”
It could get dicey. But, “We’re one prophecy away,” I said quickly. “We can cover.”
Galen swore under his breath. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take.” But his lips tipped up and soon he was smiling. We both were. “First, we’ll get the dragons out,” he said. “That means Marc, Leta, and anybody else in camp who may be targets.”
“Right. Then we’ll find a way to expand. Open portals in the other camps.” I didn’t know how, but we had to figure it out. This was it. Our chance. “I can’t wait to get out of here,” I said, throwing my arms around his neck. We could do this. I knew it.
“I love you,” he said, grinning as his lips brushed mine. “We will get out of here. Together. And when we do, I’m going to show you exactly how much.”
I kissed him slow and sweet, ignoring Medusa’s groans.
We broke away to find the gorgon rolling her eyes. “Ah, what do I care? I’m Greek,” she said. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
chapter twenty-one
Father returned to us with four plates of chipped beef Wellington from the cafeteria.
We ate standing up, and it tasted fantastic, which meant I was starving. After we finished, Father gathered up the plates. I wasn’t sure why he focused on neatness in the middle of the wreck that had been his home. Maybe it was just his way to cope.
Meanwhile, Medusa eyed the statues.
Galen caught her watching. “We’ve got to get rid of those before she knocks the heads off,” he murmured. “How about I take care of that while you get cleaned up?”
I eyed the change of clothes and shower kit Father had brought me. “Is it that bad?”
Galen barked out a laugh. “I’m not going to answer that.”
“Ah, so the big, bad special ops soldier is afraid of something,” I said, gathering up my things while he began tossing a few loose boards out of Father’s jeep.
Padre hooked up a trailer and positioned it next to the statues while I headed off.
Luckily, Father’s shower was still standing. Most likely because he’d connected it to an old water tank, about twenty feet into the minefield. I cleaned up and put on my fresh clothes.
Medusa and the baby were asleep when I got back.
Galen was talking to Father.
“Done so soon?” I asked. Those statues had to be heavy.
“More or less.” Galen shared a conspiratorial glance with Father. “I couldn’t take them to camp.”
True. He didn’t need that kind of attention. Besides, I supposed it would be hard to explain three flesh-to-stone injuries without talking about the birth we’d conducted outside the clinic.
“So what did you do with Thaïs and company?” I asked.
“We left them in the overturned guard tower,” Father said. “You know. The one with the colony of saber-toothed sand lizards.”
No kidding? “I’ve never heard of that prank.”
“Oh,” Father remarked, rather innocently. “The point is, we didn’t think anyone would look there.”
I’d have to agree with him on that one.
At least we had the investigators off our case. For now. We’d have to bring them back eventually, but there was no need to rush.
“Come with me,” Galen said, taking my hand.
“Is Father going to be all right here?”
“Go.” Father shooshed us along. “I’ve got this handled.”
Twenty bucks said he was the first person to say that about Medusa. Still, I wasn’t about to argue. Instead, I let Galen lead me down the path to the rocks.
I felt better than I had in a long time. Free. Like things really could work out. Medusa’s baby was beautiful. She’d opened up possibilities I’d never dared imagine. For the first time, I let myself hope.
“Galen.” I stopped him at a small clearing before we descended down to the rocks. “I love you.” We’d come so far since we’d been here last. And we’d done it because we loved each other, because we trusted each other and worked to make things better.
He brushed a kiss over my lips. “I’ve always loved you,” he whispered, his mouth against mine. His fingers threaded through the hair at the back of my neck and drew me closer.
He kissed me and my eyes slipped shut. My heart pounded and I felt it in the back of my knees as I opened my mouth to hi
s.
My fingers tightened on his shoulders and I moaned as he kept up his delicious assault, his tongue battling with mine. He was erect, as excited as I was, and I ground against him. He felt so good. So hard against me. And I knew exactly how it felt to have him inside me.
I went for his zipper and ended up running my hands down his arms instead. God, I loved his arms. He broke away and kissed my cheek, my chin. He ran kisses over my neck until he found the soft spot behind my ear. I practically purred with it.
“This is where I belong,” he murmured between kisses. “Here. With you.”
I touched my hand to his temple, drawing it down his cheek, and saw the raw love in his eyes. “I know. I want it too.” More than anything. I knew exactly what he was feeling—the joy, the love, the knowledge that this was good and right. That for the first time, we had a chance at true happiness.
And here—now—he deserved to know exactly how much I loved him.
He cupped my breast, his fingers finding the nipple, eliciting a gasp from me. I ran my hands down his arms, over his back. I gripped him and pulled him tighter to me.
“You taste so good,” he murmured, pulling away, kissing my breast through the thin material of my tank top. He lifted it off so I was standing in front of him, nude from the waist up.
“We have to get out of here,” he said, voice rough.
Only then did I realize that we were indeed still standing on the path to the rocks.
“This way,” he said, leading me toward the minefield, past a wall of plywood, to a small blue telephone booth.
I’d never seen it before. “They don’t have telephones in limbo.”
“Not anymore,” he said, drawing me inside, bracing me against a cool metal wall. The sun was going down. It was getting chillier. Although I had a feeling I wouldn’t be worrying about that.
“I left my top on the path.” I gasped as his mouth closed around one nipple. I leaned my head against the wall. God, it felt incredible.
“It’s in my pocket,” he murmured, moving to the other breast, but by that time, I’d forgotten what he was talking about. I just wanted more.
His hand slid down under my scrubs to where I was slick and wet and dying for him.
