Para gave him an odd look.
Gordin interjected, “Vincent, are you sure about her? She seems really sweet and harmless.”
“Of course I’m sure, you imbecile!” the demigod roared. “Elephant tranquilizer! She’s been taking substantial doses of elephant tranquilizer as a sedative to conceal her true strength, and to play my son for a fool!”
Shit, shit, shit, shit. Para remained perfectly still and expressionless. Every possible worst-case scenario ran through her mind. How could she get out of this situation? Her initial instinct was simply to teleport and get the hell away from everyone, but that wouldn’t work. It would be revealing that she knew an extremely signature technique that only Pax knew, in addition to running away and making her look guilty for things she wasn’t even guilty for. She needed to be calm and face them.
How bad was this? As far as she had been able to read, not one single person was thinking of the word “coalescence.” That was the one word that would truly destroy her. Well, I didn’t think I could keep up the game forever, did I? I just thought... I thought I could last long enough to make my revenge-goals. I haven’t accomplished anything by being Para yet—not with respect to revenge.
There was a long silence in the ballroom before Thornton began to laugh.
“Elephant tranquilizer?” Thornton shook his head at his parents. “That’s a good one! I’m pretty sure that stuff would be powerful enough to kill a...” When he realized that no one else was laughing and he saw the expression on Para’s face, he swallowed. He frowned and stared at Para searchingly, in confusion. “Is this true?”
She made brief eye contact with Thornton, before looking away guiltily. Para sighed and stepped down the stairs, toward her accuser. “What do you want from me, Vincent?”
“I want you to leave my son the hell alone.”
“I can’t do that."
“Oh, yes—I also want you to die, you fucking demon whore.”
Para’s expressionless face began to assume the smallest of smiles. “I am not a demon. You want to kill me without confirming this. So who’s the real bad guy, me or you?”
“I don’t think you understand, girl. It’s my duty to protect my family from unknown threats. You’re an unknown threat.”
“I’m a threat just because I did some hardcore drugs? The way I see it, at the moment, I’m being nice, and you’re being mean. That makes you the threat.”
“Oh, shut up and fight me, bitch.” Vincent threw an energy ball at Para so quickly that she could do nothing but step aside and dodge it. The blast left a gaping hole in the staircase right in between Thornton and Para.
“Dammit. That singed my dress!” Para said angrily, looking at the burn marks on the front of her dress.
“My staircase!” moaned Rose. “My beautiful staircase!”
“Really, Vince,” Raymond said in shock. “Relax a little. You have no evidence yet. Her energy levels still feel pretty normal to me.”
“Then we’ll just have to make her fight for her life, won’t we?” Vincent sneered.
“Oh?” Para hissed. She locked eyes with Vincent. The furious look on her face was the kind that only a pissed-off daughter could give her father. No adversary had looked Vincent in the eyes which such conviction and rage in decades. It made everyone nervous.
Para began to descend the staircase very slowly. The metallic clink, clink of her high heels echoed in the silent ballroom as the tension of those in the room mounted. Everyone who was a fighter dropped down into a battle stance out of basic protocol, even though the beautiful girl who was advancing on Vincent had extremely weak prana patterns, and was clad not in warrior’s garb, but a beautiful evening gown.
“This…” Para began, so angry that she could barely speak. She took a few deep breaths and then tried again. “This was a brand new dress, Vincent!” she shouted. She indicated the burn marks which conspicuously marred the fabric. “You ruined my gown! It was one-of-a-kind! Custom-made! Do you have any idea how much Thorn paid for this? You ought to be ashamed!”
“I couldn’t care less about your rags, slut.”
“Y—you!” Para stuttered and gasped. “How dare you?”
“Sweet Sakra, what the hell? This is uncalled for, Father!”
Para was struggling to keep her prana contained to its absolute minimum. Her whole body was shaking with the effort, and she was breathing very deeply and slowly to remain calm. This was how Vincent worked. She should know that by now. Her only defense was to be calm, and above him. She simply stated, “I want you to know that I’m really, really pissed off at you now.”
“That makes two of us, bitch.”
She frowned. She needed a way out of this. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, she reminded herself that she needed a way out quickly.
Vincent turned to the side and spat. “Now are you ready to stop acting weak and fight me? I will warn you that if you do not fight, you will be killed.”
Para cleared her throat. “Well, if you intend on killing me—you should know that Ash has been giving me self-defense sessions for 15 minutes every Saturday morning. He said I’m a fast learner.”
“It’s true!” said Asher proudly. “She’s a really clever student, and she’d make huge progress if she had more time. Medea picks things up really quickly, and she’s pretty strong. Pretty strong for a human, anyway.”
“She’s not human!” growled Vincent.
Para’s eyes widened as a swirl of crimson energy swirled around Vincent. The man was obviously preparing to hurt her. Oh, boy. The gig is up. I am so, so screwed. No. There must be a way out. There must be. Think hard, Para.
“Girl, I’m giving you one last chance to come clean with us and tell us who you are, and why you’re here. If you don’t do this, I will be forced to attack you. Once everyone sees what a threat you truly are, you will have all of us against you. The people standing with me in this room are among the strongest beings in the Universe, so do not take us lightly.”
“I have the utmost respect for all of you highly skilled fighters,” Para said softly, “but I’m afraid that I cannot tell you who I am.”
“That’s fine. I will just have to beat it out of you,” said Vincent.
“Father, don’t!” Thornton protested.
But it was too late. Vincent was flying at Para in a confusing sequence, materializing and de-materializing faster than anyone could keep up with. Finally, he arrived just in front of her, and aimed a devastating punch into her stomach. Para didn’t flinch as Vincent’s image faded just as the punch would have connected with her stomach. Instead, Vincent appeared behind her and launched a robust roundhouse kick at Para’s head, which she lifted a single finger to block. When his boot connected with her finger, her hand didn’t move an inch. Vincent froze, his jaw falling open in surprise.
“Please don’t do that,” she asked politely. She pointed at her ears. “These earrings are rentals. They’re really expensive.”
There were a few flabbergasted faces sprinkled abound the room. A few throats were awkwardly cleared. Vincent had lowered his foot, and stepped back, staring at the girl in astonishment. He had sensed that she was strong, but this was unprecedented.
Asher was muttering, “I don’t think I taught her that...”
“He must not have kicked her very hard,” Gordin was reasoning.
“Her energy levels are still so low that they’re undetectable!” Raymond exclaimed in disbelief.
Amelia was the first to react, and she stepped forward quickly. “Take the earrings off, dear. Just in case. These boys can play pretty rough sometimes. Here, let me hold them for you.”
Para’s heart melted at this simple kindness from her grandmother. “Thank you,” she whispered, reaching up to remove the diamond earrings and place them in her grandmother’s hand. She gave Amelia a smile, remembering very suddenly how much she loved her grandmother. Everyone was treating her with hostility and suspicion, but Amelia had stepped forward, giving her the ben
efit of the doubt. It reminded her of her grandfather, and why the couple had been so well suited to each other.
She wondered how her grandfather would have treated her if he had discovered a possible threat in their midst. He certainly would not have attacked her first and asked questions later; Kaden Burnson had been both wise and kind, not overly cautious and judgmental like Vincent. It occurred to Para that she never would have needed to join her bodies and begin this ridiculous ruse if her grandfather had been alive. He had such a way of bringing out the best in people that her life surely would not have fallen apart if he had still been around. But then, no one in this room would be alive without the sacrifices he made. Para missed her grandfather in every minute of her life; even more than her own mother.
Asher had moved to Amelia’s side protectively. Since losing his father, the younger Burnson boy had become doubly protective of his mother. The old lady, with her salt-and-pepper hair pulled stylishly back into a bun, stared into Para’s face curiously.
“Do I know you from somewhere, Medea? Have we met before?”
“I don’t think—” Para’s response was interrupted as a body appeared beside her out of thin air, and a solid fist connected with her side and sent her flying.
Hundreds of Swarovski crystals dislodged from her gown and scattered all over the ballroom floor. The crystals danced around the high heeled shoes worn by Amelia Burnson and Rose Kalgren.
Before Para could right herself, she felt an elbow slammed into her back which sent her hurtling into the ballroom floor. Hard. Before she even knew what hit her, she found herself lying face down in a crater dug into the marble, several meters deep.
“Raymond!” Amelia shouted. “Good heavens, son! Did you really have to do that? What if you killed the poor girl? She made no offensive maneuvers towards us whatsoever. Since when do you attack innocent women?”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but there’s no way that move killed her,” Raymond relaxed and rearranged his suit. “When Vincent kicked her—he moved so fast that I could barely see or anticipate where he was going to strike. That kick would have hit me, yet that girl was able to anticipate and block it. I’m not sure if she’s innocent or not, but I know that she is very strong, and very dangerous.”
Para lay face down in the rubble, inwardly bemoaning her life. Maybe if I just play dead they’ll forget about me.
“This really isn’t like you, Ray,” Amelia scolded, closing her fist gently around the rented diamond earrings. “She was perfectly nice to us, such a darling, and you just went and...”
“Mom, I noticed something in her technique which indicated that she has been expertly trained. I mean expertly trained. She’s not just any normal fighter, Vincent is right.”
“Well, I did train her a little bit, brother,” Asher offered, “but you’re mistaken if you think she can handle what you just did to her. We’re going to have to take her to the hospital, if she’s even alive...”
“How far along did she get in her training?” Gordin asked with a frown.
“Not very far.”
“When she’s at her best, who would you say her strength is comparable to?" Raymond asked.
“Uh, maybe to Layla’s,” Asher guessed. “Not even as strong as Layla; but definitely very human and not a threat.”
Raymond chuckled. “You have no clue, Ash. There’s no way that this woman hasn’t been training her whole life. If she’s a friend, I’m glad to meet her—but if she’s an enemy, I’m going to start sweating. I’d say her strength is more comparable to mine.”
“No, Raymond,” Vincent interjected. “She is far more powerful than you are.”
Oh, Daddy. Way to go and ruin everything!
“I don’t understand what you guys are talking about,” Thornton said in disbelief. He had been shaking his head in denial for what must have been several minutes. “I don’t understand. She’s not strong. She’s not strong at all. A bullet went right through her stomach. This just doesn’t make sense. We have to get her to the hospital now! Why did you do that, Raymond?”
“Relax, Thorn,” said Raymond reassuringly. “If my calculations of her true power are correct, going face first into the floor like that at a high velocity wouldn’t even have scratched her.”
Damn you for being so intelligent, papa.
“Now, Medea, if that’s really your name. I know that you’re unhurt. Will you come out and please tell us who you are, and what you’re doing here?” Raymond asked politely.
What am I going to do? Sakra, what am I going to do? This is really, really bad. What if someone figures out that I’m a union of two girls? It’s not that difficult. They just need to notice that Pax and Amara are missing and put two and two together. But Pax and Amara are always missing lately, so maybe there’s a slim chance...
Please. Please, Sakra! I need to think of a distracting story. I have two brilliant girls inside of this mind and I should be able to think of a solution. I need to guide them away from the truth, so far that it's not even an option.
“If you killed her, Raymond!” Thornton was yelling.
Don’t I have some backup-plan-lies saved up for a situation just like this? I must have an alibi. An alibi! That’s it! That’s the answer! I’m a genius! She would have squealed, thrown her hands up in the air, or bounced up and down and danced in glee, but she was still buried in the pile of rubble. Okay, no jumping the gun, Para. Lie here for a few seconds and just plan out the next few minutes carefully. If I’m going to tell even more lies, they have to be even more calculated and believable. Then I’ll need a getaway plan.
“Raymond, sweetie,” Amelia was saying softly. Her hand which held the earrings was trembling slightly. “I hope you’re sure about this.”
“Trust me,” he said calmly. Raymond began tapping his foot impatiently. “Medea, I would really appreciate if you came out here and showed everyone that I didn’t just murder you.”
My heart really needs to stop pounding at three hundred beats per minute, she thought to herself.
“Do what he asks of you!” Vincent commanded. “If you don’t, I will come down there and rip you out of that hole, myself. Then I’ll rip you about five new holes and pull your fucking intestines out of them!”
Para groaned, not being able to disobey the orders from both of her fathers. She grumpily pulled herself out of the makeshift grave and dusted herself off. She flew out of the crater and alighted gently on the same ballroom floor which thousands of people had been dancing across just moments before.
There were several sighs of relief.
“See?” said Raymond, nodding happily. “Not a scratch on her.”
“You may not have scratched me. But do you see what you’ve done to my makeup?” She gestured wildly to her terribly smudged eyeliner and mascara. “It was waterproof. It wasn’t going-through-the-floor proof. Thanks a lot.”
“Medea,” Thornton asked softly. “What about the bullet? Did that shot actually wound you? I saw the blood...”
She looked down at her toes guiltily. “I’m sorry, Thorn. I used my finger to make the wound when you looked away for a second.”
“I can’t believe you lied to me like this.”
“I’m sorry. There really was a good reason.”
“And the jar of pickles!” Asher shouted.
“What?” she asked in confusion.
“You asked for my help opening a jar of pickles!” Asher accused angrily, pointing a finger at her. His voice sounded hurt and betrayed. “But you didn’t really need my help at all, did you?”
Para’s lips twitched. “Well, that particular jar of pickles was sealed pretty tight.”
“Be honest! No more lies!”
She couldn’t help a smile and a giggle. “No, Ash. I didn’t really need your help. I probably could have opened the pickle jar on my own.”
Asher looked as though he had been crushed.
“Medea,” Rose asked then. “You said there was a good reason. Ignoring these men and th
eir testosterone-charged garbage, I’m listening to you. What is your reason?"
“I—I can’t tell you that, Rose,” she answered awkwardly.
“If she chooses to conceal information, then I’m going to assume she’s an enemy,” said Vincent, “and I’m going to crush her before she can hurt anyone.”
“We shouldn’t treat her this way,” Raymond argued. “Give her a chance.”
“No, I’m with Vincent,” said Gordin softly. “I don’t like lies and hidden agendas.”
Thornton sighed. “Look, guys. If she says she has a good reason I believe we should trust her. She’s been nothing but kind to me and Ash.”
“More than anyone else, I hate to admit that my husband is right,” Rose said begrudgingly, “but I’m with Vince on this.”
“I can’t get over the pickle thing,” Asher said grumpily, his arms crossed. “I’ll attack her.”
“So you’re all going to attack me because I lied?” Para asked in surprise. She hadn’t seen this vicious, unforgiving side of her friends and family in a very long time.
“Precisely,” said Vincent, before diving toward her once more.
Para found herself immediately engaged in dodging a plethora of punches and kicks. She didn’t make any attacks of her own, but focused on avoiding taking damage from Vincent’s onslaught. A few of the other demigods began to involve themselves in the battle, and Para began to worry.
There were less than five minutes left in her union. It was less than five minutes until midnight.
Gordin materialized below Para, and sent a gust of prana at her from point-blank range which sent her hurtling into the roof. She crashed into the ceiling feet-first and swore.
“Dammit, I broke a heel! Do you have any idea how much these shoes cost? You—” Para said this while pointing at Gordin. “You had better go home right now and bring me a pair of Layla’s shoes to replace these!”
Gordin paused. “Wait a second. How do you know my wife’s name? Tell me! How the hell do you know my wife’s name?”
“I know more than her name,” Para responded calmly. Time to put the plan into action. “I know her shoe size. Size 7. That’s why I’m asking you to go and bring me a pair of her shoes to replace these!”
Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak Box Set (Books 1-3) Page 87