The Stone Queen (The Dark Queens Book 9) Page 5

  With a little tug, I slipped out of Percy’s hands. He frowned down at them, looking confused and disappointed by my reaction, and I began to feel those familiar pangs of guilt.

  Maybe he hadn’t meant anything by it. He was right. I did know him. Right? Percy would never knowingly sabotage my ability to secure a strong future. If he’d done so, he surely must have had a good enough reason for it. Those familiar refrains filled my brain, but shockingly, I wasn’t buying them this time.

  Because if I picked through our past, I was starting to notice too many instances of this type of behavior. Him taking liberties. Me getting angered by them but eventually forgiving him because he sounded so forlorn and miserable, and I was too softhearted to make him dwell on his bad deeds for long.

  Cocking my head to the side, I looked at my friend through new eyes, wondering if I’d ever even known him at all. With my stomach twisting and diving, I was pretty sure I knew the answer. And it made me despise myself. I’d always thought I was a strong woman, but I wasn’t. I was weak and pathetic, so easily led on by his countless lies that I’d known all along had been nothing but untruths to cover his tracks. He’d never been any good at deception, but I’d allowed him to believe he was. What kind of person did something like that?

  A weak one, I was sure. Shame filled my bones.

  “Percy, I’m only going to ask you this once, and if you truly love me as you say you do, I’m going to demand your total honesty.”

  He looked up at me, and once again, I saw the old familiar pain in his dark eyes. He’d been abandoned as a child by his mother and knew that he had a father who was the king of all men, women, and beasts. But he also knew that his vaunted bloodline was more of a curse than a blessing, and since said god also did not want him, my friend had serious rejection issues. I’d learned that long ago, which meant I needed to tread lightly.

  That was partly why I’d always managed to overlook his countless quirks, but it was becoming harder and harder to do the older we became.

  “I promise, Medusa. You know me.”

  My brows dipped. But did I, though? I was beginning to wonder.

  “Then whatever you tell me now, I will believe it. Because you are my friend, and I know that you only want what’s best for me, yes?” I asked softly, making sure to emphasize the last bit. Percy’s pride was a fragile but powerful thing for him. If I played up to it, I might actually learn the truth.

  He nodded, but I could sense his reticence. He often reminded me of a streetwise scavenger, the kind who saw the trap coming from a mile away and knew how to avoid it while getting at the scraps he wanted. I’d seen how Percy interacted with others. He could be a liar and a thief, a crook in every sense of the word, saying and doing whatever he needed to get what he wanted.

  It was part of growing up on the streets, which had heightened his sense of survival at any cost. But I was also hoping that his obvious affection for me would make him be truthful and honest despite whatever survival instinct flared up in him. We were supposed to be different. With me, he was supposed to feel free to be soft and vulnerable. I always had with him. Percy knew me inside and out. I’d told him my fears, my dreams, my hopes. I’d flayed myself open for him, and I’d always hoped he’d done the same with me.

  To soften my words, I grabbed his hand. As I drummed my fingers along his hard knuckles, shivers ran through him.

  “You are my only true friend, Medusa. I will tell you whatever you wish to know,” he said somberly, his voice deep and scratchy with obvious emotion.

  And finally, I knew he meant it.

  I nodded and kicked my feet, swimming closer to him, drawing as near as I comfortably could, close enough that the tips of my wings brushed his body. Again I felt the shivers take him, and his eyes, which usually had a hard and calculating gleam, were soft and full of tenderness.

  A stab of guilt wormed through my consciousness. I didn’t necessarily enjoy tricking him in this way, or leading him to believe that I wished more from our relationship than what we currently had, but I had to discover the truth, one way or another.

  “Perseus.” I said his true name, and this, time his shivers weren’t gentle but almost violent.

  “Medusa,” he murmured hotly, and it was my turn to tremble, but not from desire—it was from the pain and the realization of what I was doing to him and how betrayed he might feel once he realized what I was really up to. I wasn’t normally a manipulative sort, but something felt wrong. Desperately wrong.

  His strong arm slid around my middle, and I let him drag me tighter into him. That was when I felt the thick girth of his body brush between my thighs. I froze, never having felt a man so close to me in such an intimate part of my body before.

  I remembered the boy I’d first met, gangly and scrawny, with long limbs and an awkward gait. He was none of those things now. Perseus had been training with the other boys of the village for over a year and had developed a soldier’s body. He was all hard lines and strong, supple muscle.

  I wanted to dry heave, and my skin crawled from the touch of him upon my thigh. But I knew he could not control his body’s reactions, so I ignored my revulsion.

  He gripped my wrists loosely, constantly stroking my flesh. The sensations weren’t in the slightest bit pleasant. In fact, I wanted nothing more than to push him back and swim as fast and far away from him as I could.

  I wasn’t sure when I’d begun to have these visceral reactions to his nearness, but ever since I’d come into my womanly curves, I’d felt those sensations. A protective instinct that never allowed me to get too close to him, the sense that I never wanted to lead him on and make him believe I felt more for him than mere sisterly affection. I knew my actions of now were probably confusing to him.

  “Tell me the truth, then,” I said, my voice strong and clear as a bell, even though inside, I was a wrecked and terrified mess.

  He sucked in a sharp breath, and his fingers instantly tightened, not too hard but uncomfortably.

  I swallowed my cry and held still, not wishing to overreact and lose my advantage, meager though it was.

  A panicked gleam had entered his eyes, and his head gave a small, almost involuntary shake. “What?”

  “The truth, Perseus. Because I know Herodites, and he’s never been any of those things you’ve said. Our village is small. If he’d done as you said to countless women before, I’d have heard about it. You know I would have.”

  His face was as flat as stone, his eyes hard like flint, and a darkness had gathered that I’d never sensed in him before. An edge of violence lingered in the air, and my mouth grew dry as my heart rate sped up. I shivered as his fingers tightened around my wrist, inflicting a sharp stab of pain.

  I hissed.

  “How could you even entertain the notion of that fat arse?” He tossed out the words like a stone from a sling.

  I winced. “What?” I was shocked by the vehemence in his tone.

  His face was no longer smooth and handsome but a twisted amalgamation of things I’d never seen before. Fury. Rage. Violence.

  He snapped his hands back, dragging me so tightly into him that not an inch of space existed between us. I was rigid as a pole, gone completely still. Some inner voice told me not to panic or even move. He was like a disturbed serpent, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

  “You could have any male on this godsforsaken island, and yet you would set your eyes on him!” He tossed the words out almost like a spear.

  I flinched at the implied insult that laced his vitriol.

  “Smiling and smirking at that whoreson. Using your body and feminine wiles to ensnare him in a web of lies and deceit. You don’t want him. Your mother wants him. I know you, Medusa. I saved you from that fate! A lifeless, empty marriage full of screaming, blubbering brats you would not want suckling at your withered teats, body forever altered and changed, all beauty gone from you because you married something that could never truly treasure you as you deserved.”

&
nbsp; I gasped, and without thought, I slapped him so hard that my palm stung from the contact. His head bounced back for a brief second, and when he looked at me, the rage in his eyes was hot and explosive. His upper lip curled upward, exposing his blunt canines, and he rubbed at his scarlet-colored cheek.

  But I was so angry I forgot to censure my words, forgot to remind myself that this was my only friend, even if he’d insulted me in every conceivable manner and had decried me the whore of Babylon. I forgot that he’d once meant something to me, because in that moment, all I could focus on was the fact that someone I’d cared for had been selfish, petty, and downright awful.

  Kicking back so there was space between us, I shook my head. “How could I have been so wrong about you? All those wasted years I gave you.”

  The whites of his eyes appeared bigger than they had seconds ago, and a look of shock and unbelievable pain flashed across his face. For a second, I regretted it all. I hated seeing him this way and wished I’d never said a word. But that vulnerable look was soon gone, replaced by one that was cold, indifferent, and full of hate. I flinched, practically shrinking in on myself as I sensed the shift between us.

  “I love you! Don’t you fucking see that!” he snapped, slapping at his chest, his dark eyes wild with things that chilled me to my very core. “Take me. Be mine. Always. I would treat you right. I would be all the man you ever needed. I would sink into your slippery, hot folds and fuck you until—”

  I gasped at the filth that tripped so easily off his tongue. And I hissed, “You’re sick. You’re not well, Perseus. I see that now. You don’t want me. And I assure you, I don’t want you. Not like that. We were friends. That’s all we ever were.”

  His upper lip curled back like a feral dog’s. “Were? Past tense? Then what the hell is this?” He gestured wildly between us, reminding me of what I’d done seconds ago. The way I’d practically crawled into his body. How I’d allowed him to hold me. My stomach surged, and the heat of sickness shot up the back of my throat. I had to swallow twice to keep it down.

  “You are nothing but a vile, disgusting whore showing off your body to me the way you did. Bet you did that to him too, huh? Slut!” He wet his lips, and madness raged in his eyes. “Do you touch yourself at night, thinking of me fucking you? Of him doing it too? Of owning us all? Do you, Medusa, you fucking cunt!”

  I gasped. “How dare you!”

  His smile was chilling. “Slipping up your tunic, showing off your shapely legs, swimming in those waters until the fabric bunched and revealed every slick line of your perky breasts and tight, young pussy. You’ve always been a tease. A godsdamned flirt. You knew what you were doing, and you did it anyway. You’re filth. You’re a whore. You’re—”

  Pain. Shame. Rage. It all came out of me and shaped into words that I knew would change our lives forever. “You’re a bastard and that’s all you’ll ever be! I went swimming to catch you fish, you sick arse. Do not speak about me ever again in such a repugnant and vile man—”

  His grin was cold and made my skin crawl.

  “I’ll say whatever the hell I want. If you’re not my mate, then it makes you a whore. A dirty, nasty whore who gets exactly what she deserves. Be mine, Medusa.” He planted his palm against the flat of his stomach, his voice suddenly less cold and more pleading, and I was shocked by the instant transformation that’d overtaken him. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought him acting or that this was some elaborate hoax. But I did know better.

  Did he honestly think I could ever forget the disgusting things he’d just told me? What game was this? What kind of self-respect would he think I had if I let him get away with something like this? All I could imagine was my life with him. We weren’t even together, and already he was a monster. I could only imagine how much worse things could be if I were actually his. I thanked the gods that I’d seen this in him before it was too late.

  He was sick. It was so obvious now. All those times when I’d felt things were off between us, when I’d sensed that Perseus’s reactions weren’t even within the realm of normal, I’d shrugged them off and believed he was having a bad day, night, year, life. Gods, I’d been so stupid! How he must have laughed at how easily he’d manipulated me.

  I’d been such a damned blind fool. Just as I often did with creatures caught in traps in the wild, I’d tried to save something that was well beyond my ability to save.

  I shook my head. The stinging and bitter realization of what I’d lost in a heartbeat suddenly came crashing down, leaving me weak and empty. If I’d been standing, my knees would have given out.

  “We’re done, Percy,” I whispered as hot tears welled up in the corners of my eyes, blinding me for half a second. “I’m sorry.” The words of apology instantly flew from my mouth, and I realized I was feeling sorry for him when the truth was that he owed me the apology. But even so, I heard myself uttering the words again. “I’m so sorry. But you’re not well. And I cannot be your friend anymore.”

  That softness in him fled in an instant, and the devil was back, come to consume my soul. His face twisted into something not human at all. And I swore but for a split second, it was like he’d turned into a literal demon. His flesh, usually a rich shade of mahogany, was near black and full of scales. His blunted human teeth resembled a cobra’s fangs, and a glowing red light emanated from within the pupils of his eyes.

  I gasped, shoving back in the waters and kicking my feet to get away. But the moment I moved, he looked human again, and I questioned what in the world I’d seen just seconds ago. My heart was beating so hard I was sure it would jump free of its cage any moment.

  Time seemed to slow to a crawl, and his hands rose up, his fingers curled, and finally a sense of self-preservation overtook me. Snapping my wings out, I shoved out of the water with all my power, dripping wet and knowing that when I got home, looking as I did, Mother would realize I’d lied to her all these years. But I was choked up with fear and blinded by my tears, and Mother’s disappointment was the least of my concerns, because more than anything, I was disappointed in myself.

  “I hate you!” he yelled. “I hate you! I hope you die! And I will laugh, Medusa! I will sing praises to the gods when you do!”

  Disbelieving the cruelty with which he hurled those insults so willingly and easily, I gasped then twirled, swallowing the ball of tears trapped in my throat, and raced away from him like foolish Icharus falling from the sky. And long after I’d left him behind, I heard his cries of fury and odium ringing in my ears. Those words would haunt me forever.

  For a minute, I felt nothing as I flew, the shock surely shutting down my emotions. I couldn’t believe it was really over between us. I’d known him for five years, and I’d thought him my best friend. Thought we would be friends forever. But with each beat of my wings that took me farther from him and closer to home, the shock began to wear off.

  It was over. This was really over. Forever.

  I would never see my best friend again.

  I would never again know the comfort of being with a peer.

  There was no hope of a future mate for me now. I had nothing. This was it. My life as I’d known it was over.

  Chapter 5

  Medusa

  When I saw Mother’s home, the sun was nearing its rest for the night, and I could no longer go on. I dropped. My wings literally ceased moving, and I landed in an ungraceful heap upon the dirt-packed earth. The agony that I’d swallowed came spewing out, and sounds I’d never known I was capable of making exploded around me.

  I was like a dying and wounded animal clawing at the ground and grieving the loss of something it knew it should never grieve but did, anyway. I heaved with my sobs.

  I clutched at tall grasses with my numbed fingers and stared at a world full of bleeding colors until I noted a ripple of heat on the not too distant horizon.

  My brows dipped. Forgetting about my trauma for a second, I watched what looked like a walking flame draw closer and closer. Sniffing, I rub
bed at the remaining tears dripping off my nose and cheeks.

  What in the devil was that? Growing calmer by the second, I found my tears all but dried up as I became distracted by the mystery of the moving fire. It wove in random movements through the tall grass. I might have thought it Apollo’s fiery chariot racing through the sky except for the fact that it was definitely upon land. And the nearer it drew, the more it resembled a moving pillar of flame.

  It snapped golden at the edges and a deep, almost impossible blue at its center. Sniffing, I scrubbed at my eyes with my wrist but still couldn’t tear my gaze off the advancing mystery.

  It was the strangest thing, but I grew very still, almost weirdly calm the closer it drew toward me. What was it?

  It did not move like any fire I’d ever seen. Its movements almost reminded me of a wind funnel. Anywhere it touched, it ripped debris up with it, instantly burning it to a cinder the second it contacted even the coolest part of its flame.

  As the mystery unfolded, I grew calmer and calmer, forgetting all that’d just happened and focused entirely on whatever it was that advanced steadily toward me.

  Something about it seemed familiar, and though I wasn’t sure why, it was as though I’d seen this fire before. But again, I had no idea when or where, only that I knew I was not reacting as a normal person should or would in this moment.

  I kept telling myself to get up and fly away, to leave, that this thing, whatever it was, could be dangerous. It could be sent by the gods to destroy me, and maybe Perseus himself had sent it my way.

  But no matter how many words of caution my brain screamed, I could not move. I was frozen fast to this spot of land.