“I’ll admit that I’ve not been around many of you winged types. I tend to be around ringing steel and the stench of blood most days. I never knew feathers could be so different. Your rachis is like mother-of-pearl, and there is gold threaded through the snow-white of your vane. It’s quite beautiful.” He smirked and glanced momentarily at his feet.
The look made me imagine that it was partly flirtatious and partly self-conscious, which couldn’t be right. There was no justifiable reason that Ares would ever be caught dead flirting with me. Number one, he was not that type. And there was the not-so-minor issue of Aphrodite being his lover, and everything after her would be a massive step down. It was clearly my wishful imaginings and nothing more.
But even so, my cheeks blazed, and I fought not to lose control of my mouth. Because right now, a smile the size of Olympus wished to take up residence upon my face. He’d called my wings beautiful, and though it was most likely a throwaway compliment, it’d sounded almost true upon his handsome lips.
I sniffed to hide my confusion and quickly tucked my wings behind me, so tight that not an inch of them could be seen from my front. Not because I hadn’t enjoyed his compliment but because I wasn’t sure that I believed it, and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself by allowing my emotions to run away with me. My back felt electrified. Like an eel’s skin, it sparked and popped and made me aware all over again of the feathers he’d called beautiful. “My mother’s always told me I had fine wings.” I shook my head, silently reminding myself that this did not in any way matter. “Why… why are you here, Great God of War, Ares? Have you come to smite me?”
I was in it now, and I might as well be honest about my fears. If he’d come to execute me, he was certainly proving effective at getting me to lower my guard, which I didn’t want to do.
One dark, thick brow rose as though he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or chastise me for daring to be so informal with him. I was a mortal, he a god. I had my place, and he had his. But today had been terrible, and any sense of self-preservation I’d had left was quickly consumed by the adrenaline runoff coursing through my body.
I thought I heard, in the distance, my name upon the wind. I stiffened, imagining it must be Mother searching for me. I glanced toward the right and frowned.
“Be calm, little one,” he was quick to assure. “You will be well. I will make certain that sister Ceto knows you were with me.”
I blinked as my brows gathered in tight. “Why? Why would you do that?”
Again, my mouth didn’t wait for my brain to process what I should and should not say.
The smile on his face slowly faded, leaving him with an intense look of curiosity. “Do you wish me to leave?”
Why would he ask me that? The question had sounded almost intimate, as though we’d known one another long enough to actually be honest and sincere rather than cursory and pat, as one tended to get with casual acquaintances.
I cocked my head. “Would you care if I did?”
He blinked, and he looked shocked by my response. I wondered why I was suddenly so calm and serious and where this nerve of mine had suddenly sprung up from. This wasn’t like me at all. Mother had always taught me to revere the gods, to never do anything to draw attention from them to me, saying that by doing so, I could wreak havoc upon myself and my bloodline.
Her words had always seemed like nonsense. Why would the gods care about someone so minor? I wasn’t the only low goddess walking the earth. There were others, born and dying in obscurity, the infamy of their fathers and mothers of no grave importance to anyone other than themselves.
He snorted. “You’re a very strange bird, aren’t you?”
Again I blinked. What did that mean? “I’m not a bird, or a harpy, if you wondered. I’m just me. Just Medusa.”
Still, he looked taken aback by my responses, and I couldn’t understand why. I thought I’d been respectful.
“Do you have serpents, Medusa?”
“What?”
I wrinkled my nose. What an odd question and a very strange segue. Hadn’t we just been talking about my feathers? Where did this nonsense about serpents come from?
Then he did the most amazing thing ever—he sat, cross-legged, before me. We were quite a distance apart, yet it felt surprisingly intimate. The god of war was sitting in the dirt with me. But why?
Once more, I heard the call of my mother ride the winds, this time much closer. She would likely stumble upon us soon, but Ares did not look in the least bit bothered.
He lifted up one leg and casually dropped his forearm over it. His big, brawny body looked completely relaxed and at ease.
“Would you be surprised if I told you that an oracle’s words told to me over a hundred years ago are what led me here to you tonight?”
“What?” I knew I sounded simple, but none of what he was saying made much sense.
Ripping up a chunk of grass, he began to absentmindedly drag a clump of it between his fingers, but his eyes were faraway and reflective.
“One comes who will change the course of your destiny. A maiden of stone and venom, with a heart of gold and a soul poisoned by darkness. She will be yours truly. Forever and ever, brother War, but the road will be long, painful, and more of a curse than a blessing. But if you stay strong, if you hang in there, your future will shine brighter than Midas’s own gold. So it is spoken, so shall it be…”
His deep voice, full of heat and other things, made me shiver. His dark, burning eyes returned to mine, and they were filled with silent curiosity. His look was soft, and I sensed he was trying to put me at ease.
I shrugged, rolling my wrists as I did. “And you think that’s me?”
His look was boldly assessing before he finally sighed and said, “I’m not certain. I visited the Fates tonight, though, and they assure me that it is you.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it, because this was absolutely the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. “But think rationally.”
“I’d say I’m fairly rational. I am known as a master strategist, and as I’ve said, I’ve waited over a hundred years before moving on this prophecy. All roads point to you.”
“It couldn’t possibly be, though. I am no maiden of stone and venom, and I will certainly never be your greatest love.”
He chuckled. “Do you deny me, then? Consider me hideous to look upon?”
I didn’t actually believe he was fishing for compliments. How could he be when his looks rivaled Adonis’s? He had slashing cheekbones and perfect dimensions, and he was everything a male god should be. I snorted. “Don’t be absurd.”
“About?”
Now it was my turn to lift my brows. “Is the great god of war actually fishing for compliments?”
“Ha!” He barked with laughter, and all I could do was sit and watch him. His looks were beautiful but severe at times, just as a lifelong soldier’s could be expected to be, but when he laughed, it was like he became a different person. He was radiant and, for just a moment, looked carefree. “You’ve a tongue on you, female. Me, fishing for compliments. What an absurd notion.”
His nostrils flared, he glanced toward his right, and I swore that for just a moment, maybe there’d been a glimmer of guilt in his eyes. It was quickly washed away in the glow of his eternal flames. He pursed his lips and gave a coughing grunt, and I rather wondered if he weren’t trying to gather his thoughts.
It was bizarre, this new reality I now found myself in. Chatting so animatedly with an actual god of Olympus, as though he and I were old friends and not new acquaintances.
“Maybe you’re right, Medusa. Maybe you aren’t this female destined to become my greatest love. Perhaps I should leave.” He said it more like a question than a statement, and I was confused all over again. That was not an uncommon state for me at the moment.
A gentle wind riffled through my feathers, and a lone one, the very one he’d been toying with earlier, molted. It fluttered in the breeze as feathers tended to do.
His long fingers stroked the feather almost tenderly, and I couldn’t help trembling at the sight of such a powerful man looking so… normal. It was strange, this new dichotomy of his. In my mind, Ares had always been bigger than life. He was an immortal soldier who surely had the tongue of a sailor, the skills of a pirate, and the deadly grace of an agitated adder. He’d never been a male that I could somehow identify with, a quiet and clearly intelligent being with whom I would feel such a strange and instant connection, and I was deeply rattled by that reality.
Covering one foot with my other, I thinned my lips. That movement drew his eye back to me.
“Does it bother you if I keep this?”
A little. Though I would not tell him so. So instead, I rolled my wrist and affected a nonchalance I was far from feeling. “You’re a god. You don’t need to ask.”
The air suddenly seemed to cool by ten degrees, and I shivered as he softly said, “I’m a god of honor. I do not keep what is not mine. Might I keep this, Lady Medusa?”
I swallowed, my tongue feeling swollen and my mouth suddenly as parched as a desert. I couldn’t begin to fathom why he should want it. But suddenly, I wasn’t so bothered by the notion that he should. I was more curious than anything else. “But why? It is just an insignificant feather.”
His lopsided grin made my heart feel as though it would race out of my chest and run away. My stomach swam and swirled.
“Then if it is insignificant, surely you would not miss it?” He tipped the glimmering feather toward me.
Mother always hated my molting. It always happened in the spring. She would become industrious with the feathers, though, and most of the mattresses and pillows in our home were filled with my down. I still couldn’t fathom why he would want such a silly thing, but I shrugged. “I suppose I won’t.”
Before I could even blink, the feather had disappeared, gone to only god knew where. He gave me another one of his lopsided grins that did incredibly strange things to my insides. I wet my lips and glanced to the side. Dear gods, he was a potent one to be around. That was for certain.
I heard the rush of tall grass shifting before I saw the shadow of my mother spring into view. She wasn’t an overly tall woman, nor did her looks give away her true heritage, that of a water deity. She looked completely human in both form and mannerisms. Her hair, once a vibrant silky brown, was now threaded through with thick veins of gray. Her skin, still youthful for her advanced age, sported deeper wrinkles along her eyes and mouth lines. She wasn’t fat by any means, but she was plump in the midsection and broad in the hips. For all that, she was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever known, both inside and out. Mother radiated warmth and calm. Usually.
Not right now, though. Right now, she looked spitting mad and was glaring my way.
“Medusa!” She wagged her finger at me, and I knew I would pay for this transgression later.
I began a mad scramble to my feet to try to explain, but she did not give me even a second to speak my piece.
“There you are, you terrible child! How dare you make me wor—” Mother’s irritation instantly turned into a mewl of distress when she glanced to the right of me and caught sight of Ares. Then she did the most astonishing thing ever, and all words fled me in an instant. She dropped to her knees and dipped her head, never looking at Ares full-on. And even from this distance, I could tell she trembled.
“Brother War.” Her voice squeaked but had lost its angry edge, and in its place was what sounded a lot like fear.
I frowned.
“Why have you come? What has my daughter done to you? I… I will surely keep her—”
Cocking my head, I stared at her as though for the first time. Why was Mother acting so strangely? Even a blind person could have understood that it was not anger that gripped her now but rather a sudden and powerful fear.
Ares held up a glowing bronze finger. He blazed as radiant as the flame he’d been when he’d first come to me. “Do not worry so, sister Ceto. I am the cause for your daughter’s late return. I had matters to speak to her about, and she was kind enough to hear me out.”
“As you say, my lord.”
What?
I curled my nose, more confused than ever. Since when did Mother ever, ever debase herself in this manner? She was a bold, no-nonsense woman. She was not this squeaky nervous thing, ever.
“Do you still require my daughter’s presence this evening, Great God of War?” Again I could hear the strain in her tone. She was terrified. But why? Ares had been a perfect gentleman.
He sighed and shook his head as he slowly got to his feet and dusted off his backside. “I do not. I have all that I’ve come for. I will bother you no longer.”
“Never a bother, Ares. Please say hello to your father for me, and tell him that I have done all that was requi—”
“If your fear is that I am come on Father’s behalf, rest easy, sister Ceto.”
The moment he said it, Mother’s shoulders and stiff spine instantly relaxed. She chanced a peek at him from beneath her long, dark lashes but still did not rise.
Should I have genuflected in that manner as well? Indecision kept me locked in place. Had I come close to the hangman’s noose and not known it? It was my turn to swallow hard as a pinch of nerves began to wind through my lower belly.
“Thank you,” Mother whispered, and I swore but there was a reverence in her tone.
Mother was hiding something—something big enough that made her tremble like a sapling in stiff winds. An uncomfortable feeling began to wind through me.
Ares looked at me, the fire in his eyes now mostly a dim glow. “Good night, woman,” he said in his deeply accented voice with nothing but reverent consideration before tipping his head at us both in farewell.
I bit my bottom lip and nodded, fighting a grin because I understood what my mother would not when he’d referred to me as such. It was silly and it was ridiculous of me to feel warmed through and through from it, but I did. And I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever see him again. Wondering why he’d even come. And wondering what it was that they both knew that I did not. I sensed they hid a secret from me, though I wasn’t sure why.
Ares once more became that raging pillar of flame and fire. I smelled the char of the land wherever he touched, and then, with one last violent spark, he vanished into the night.
Chapter 52
Medusa
“Medusa, come here!” Mother cried the instant he’d left.
Finally finding my will again, I ran to her, nearly tripping over my feet in my haste. She grabbed me up, and I was sure I would receive the beating of my life. But I was shocked when instead, she wrapped me up tight and began to sob wildly against the crown of my hair. Wherever her tears landed, baby crab sprang up, scuttling through my hair and nipping at the tender flesh of my scalp. I winced, but I did not force Mother off of me.
Instead, I sank into her warmth, confused, silent, and even a little scared. Mother was never, ever like this. She held onto me securely for what felt like hours but could have been only minutes.
Finally, when the sky seemed at its blackest, she gently pushed me back and began to flit her hands over my face and body. “He did not harm you, did he, love?”
I shook my head. “He did nothing other than speak with me.”
She nodded. “Good. Good. And you gave him no part of yourself, yes?”
“What?” I asked, my brows twitching high upon my forehead.
“Medusa”—she went calm as a serpent about to strike—“please tell
me that you did not allow him any liberties with you.”
“Mother, what is this ridiculous line of questioning all about?” I snapped, anger and frustration and confusion suddenly pouring out of me in one mighty surge. I shrugged out of her arms and stared at her probingly.
But the fear that’d gripped her while Ares was here was back again, and she hugged her arms to her chest. “This isn’t the time for your childish games. Answer me truthfully, did you give him part of yourself?”
“What? If you’re wondering whether he and I had relations, then you can rest easy, Mother. I’m still very much a virgin!”
I’d thought my words might shock her into silence or even shame her a little. What kind of female did she think I was? Yes, there were some who would throw away their virtues for a night with a god, but I was not that type. But Mother did not look shamed. In fact, she breathed a deep sigh of what sounded an awful lot like relief.
“Good. Good. That’s good.” Her long lashes fluttered, then her shoulders pinched tight, and she stared hard at me. “You didn’t let him have any part of you, though, did you?”
“Mother, what is this?” I could not conceal my frustration from her any longer, but more than that, I was starting to feel a sharp nip of worry because I had, in fact, given Ares a part of me. “What are you keeping from me? Why did you and Ares seem to have a shared secret?”
She scoffed at that and shrugged, rolling her wrist as though to bat away my words. Now it was her time to go on the defensive, and I was more baffled than ever. The feeling of fear was growing and intensifying in me so that I felt sick to my stomach and like I might vomit. What was she hiding?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, almost aggressively. “Of course we shared no secret.”
I thinned my eyes, thinking suddenly of all of Mother’s strict rules when I was growing up and how I could not be alone with men. Any man. How I could never even kiss one or hold one’s hand. How I was never even to look any man, woman, or child directly in the eye, and how if I should shed even one feather, I was to retrieve it and either give it to her or burn it to a cinder.
The Greek Gods of Romance Collection Page 65
