Protecting Medusa

by Elizabeth Andrews

  “Yes, thank you.” She took a deep breath and released it in a rush. “How long will I have nightmares?”

  He shrugged. “Can’t say for sure.” His had lasted for six months. He didn’t want that for her.

  He heard her swallow. “I don’t suppose I can talk to a therapist about this, can I?”

  He smiled into the darkness. “Maybe. There might be one somewhere in your family. And if not, I’m sure I can find one with a lot of discretion.” He stroked her head, twining his fingers in her unruly curls.

  “Who did you talk to?”

  His smile faded. “There are people to talk to.” He’d gone to his required sessions, however, and nothing further. He couldn’t see the point in continuing to remind himself of it when all he wanted to do was forget.

  Mena sighed softly. “Maybe you should get someone on staff for your people. Just in case.”

  He hummed his agreement, but he didn’t point out that nearly everyone who worked for and with him had already had the same experience in whatever military or intelligence branch they’d worked. Instead, he stroked down her warm back, following the curve of her hips to cup her bottom.

  She made a startled sound, then let him shift her so she straddled his hips, his thickening erection sliding along her damp folds.

  “You feel so good, Mena,” he murmured, dragging his fingers between her thighs, finding her clit, then pressing into her body, feeling another rush of moisture ease his way. “Always so good around me.”

  As a distraction from her frightening afternoon, sex seemed to work. Her body flashed hot, her nipples tightening against his chest, her pussy slippery around his fingers. He stroked into her until her breathing grew shallow and her hips rocked into his palm.

  “Just like that.” He eased his fingers from her body and replaced them with his cock, forcing the tip into her clutching sheath. “Relax, baby. Let me in.”

  She whimpered, shifting her hips toward his so he slid in several more inches.

  And later, when she wept again, he was sure it had nothing to do with the events of the afternoon, and everything to do with the emotions and pleasure rushing through her quaking body.

  She clung to him, arms and legs wrapped around him, and he kissed away the tears that slid back her temples and down her cheeks. “It’s all right, love,” he whispered, feeling a lump in his own throat.

  He’d nearly lost her yesterday.

  It wouldn’t happen again.

  “What do you mean Alastor is dead?” Elek leaned forward.

  Argos rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I mean an unmarked envelope arrived earlier via messenger. There was a typewritten note with the location of his body and a photocopy of his driver’s license.”

  Ari sat back in his seat. “Goddess,” he breathed, reaching for the pill bottle in front of him.

  Elek’s pulsebeat nearly drowned out the rattle of the medication. “We need to--”

  Argos held up one hand. “I knew you’d say that, so I called Petr and Damo. They are bringing his body now.”

  “How did he die?” Elek asked, a little afraid to hear the answer.

  “Gutted.” Argos looked faintly ill. “But not where he was found.”

  “Thank you, Argos,” Ari said, waving his hand dismissively.

  Elek rose as his cousin left the room. “How did this happen? He never even said he’d found her.”

  “Perhaps just by chance,” Ari said, sitting back and settling his gaze on Elek. “I do wonder, however, about why they let us know where to find him. We’ll have to go to his wife to tell her he’s gone.”

  Elek didn’t care about the why, just the how.

  Ari frowned at him. “What are you thinking?”

  “I need to know how he found her, and how she got away.”

  “Unless he made notes we can recover, we probably won’t know the answer to your first question, and I believe the manner of his death answers the second.”

  Elek frowned and began to pace.

  Stabbing meant up close. Nestor had been shot, which had not been point-blank range. He had been killed by Ware for certain. Stabbing...

  His pace slowed. The stabbing was likely the Medusa. He wanted more information. Where had Alastor found her? Was that where she’d killed him? And why lead them to his body? Why not just leave him to rot?

  “She did this,” he muttered.

  “Probably,” Ari agreed. “In her attempt to escape, I imagine. One more reason to kill her.”

  Elek stopped pacing and dropped into the chair opposite his great-uncle. “Vicious. The method is vicious.”

  Ari nodded, steepling his fingers in front of him. “I expect nothing less from the monster.”

  Elek set his own hands flat on the desk and studied them. He had learned many ways to use them to kill a person, as had his uncles and cousins. Alastor would only have ignored those skills if he felt confident enough with another mode. His own blade. A gun. “We need to know if any weapons were found on his body,” he said, lifting his gaze to the older man’s face. “And we need Argos to pull any useful information from his computer and phone. Then we’ll get a better idea if this was intentional or accidental when he found her.”

  “You take care of that while I call his wife.”

  Elek left his great-uncle to his onerous task and headed for Argos’s computer cave at the opposite end of the house.

  Philomena felt better by suppertime. Ryder had dragged her out for breakfast, then back into bed. They’d gone out for lunch at a Mexican place down the road, and she’d eaten a little. He’d exhausted her early in the afternoon, until she’d finally taken a nap. By dinner, she was starved.

  Ryder grinned at her over his menu. They were in a Chinese restaurant several doors away from the hotel, and everything smelled delicious.

  “So, what’s our game plan for tomorrow?” she asked after the waitress took their orders.

  His grin faded only slightly. “We’re going into Pensacola to swap cars, then we’ll mosey along the coast. Blend in with the spring-breakers. Relax on the beach, maybe.” His dark eyes promised more.

  Philomena took a sip of her water to distract herself. “Any particular destination in mind?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Why? Do you have ideas?”

  She considered that for a moment. “I don’t think so. Not Miami, though.”

  He shook his head, his smile fading. “No. Too big, I think.”

  Just what she’d thought. Although they hadn’t done so well in the small towns either. She played with her straw for a moment, debating with herself. “How long do you think we can do this?” Her heart beat faster.

  His mouth set in a flat line now. “You mean traveling?”

  She shrugged. “That, too.”

  His shoulders tensed as he leaned on the table. “The traveling won’t be indefinite.”

  She was afraid to ask about everything else. No, she thought, that wasn’t quite the truth. She knew what his answer would be if she asked about everything else. It was her own response she wasn’t sure of. Or not ready to share, at least.

  He touched her hand, his dark eyes intent when she lifted her gaze to his face. “Mena, you know how I feel about you. I have a lot of patience, so don’t think I’m going anywhere, even after we settle this with the Harvesters.”

  She swallowed, hard, unable to pull her gaze away. Until the waitress returned with fried strips of dough and dipping sauces to tide them over until their meals were ready.

  Ryder sighed and sat back in his seat, but he left his hand over hers on the table.

  The warmth of him felt so much better than it should, she mused, studying his long fingers.

  Philomena closed her eyes for a couple of seconds, then turned her hand under his so their palms were touching. His fingers clenched on her wrist for a second, and she smiled at him, faintly. He stroked one finger over the pulse in her wrist, and a burst of heat shot up her arm.

  His grin returned, slowly s
preading over his face, and she relaxed a little.

  She wasn’t ready to go back to a reality without him.

  She just wasn’t sure she could do forever. Even without this curse hanging over her. Forever required a lot of trust, and she hadn’t known many trustworthy men. She wasn’t sure she could trust her own judgement now.

  Ryder didn’t press her when they returned to the motel, instead turning on the television to look at the weather while he started his computer. She took the opportunity to do the same. In case there was anything important waiting, like a new client query, or something from one of her cousins.

  When she saw the size of Andi’s email, Philomena frowned. What on earth had she sent?

  Ryder glanced up from his laptop. “I got something from Kallan.”

  “One from Andrea here.” She clicked on the line to open the message. Attachments, plural. Her frown deepened.

  “Philomena, We’ve hit the Mother-lode, so to speak. Aunt Lydia has sent us journals from previous Medusas. Oh, my Gods, you should see some of these--so old! I’ve just started scanning some of the more recent ones into the computer and have attached them for you to look at. Kallan thinks we’re overdue for a private, family website, where we’d all have access to this stuff. Any thoughts on designs?”

  Philomena blinked. Journals. Those would have been helpful years ago. Then she frowned. Uploaded to a website for the whole family. Why hadn’t anyone thought of that before? She smiled, dropping her gaze to her screen.

  “It’s going to take a really long time to scan all of these to digital files, but I was thinking of farming some out among the cousins to get it done faster. Just think of it, Philomena, generations of Medusas to help when there’s a change. I wish I’d had these when I got the curse.”

  Of course she did.

  “Or that Aunt Lydia had tracked them down faster. It might not have made me trust in Kallan or my feelings any faster, but knowing Obelia fell in love a hundred and twenty years ago while she was the Medusa, thus passing the curse on to someone else, would have given me a little hope early on, or a morale boost later.

  “Anyway, have fun reading. I’m going to keep scanning. I’ll let you know if I see anything juicy. Love, A.”

  “Did you get homework, too?” Ryder asked, leaning back in his seat.

  “I got extra, because I need to think about designing a website.” She set her laptop aside.

  “These journals...this is kind of huge.” His intent gaze landed on her face.

  Philomena nodded. “Actual accounts instead of hearsay, changed by generations of telling. It’s huge.” She thought about Andi dealing with her feelings for Kallan, with no idea what she could expect or hope for. No wonder it had taken her so long to trust their love.

  Philomena swallowed, her gaze sliding to her laptop while guilt bubbled in her stomach. Ryder had been open and up-front with her from the start. She knew she wanted him, trusted him to protect her. She took a slow breath and reached over to close the email program on her computer.

  Ryder pushed to his feet, startling her, and did a slow stretch, arms over his head, his gaze still fixed on her.

  Her pulse did a little happy dance.

  He smiled as he lowered his arms. “I think it’s time for some sleep.”

  She laughed. “Sleep? With that look on your face?”

  He winked at her. “Eventually.”

  She closed her laptop and took a slow breath. “Another distraction?”

  He shook his head. “Just because I want you,” he said softly.

  Philomena stretched one hand out to brush his stubbled jaw, his skin warm beneath her fingers. “Then you should have me,” she whispered back, her heart tripping at the way his eyes sparked in response to her words.

  No matter what he said, this really was a good distraction, even though it wasn’t necessarily his intention.

  Ryder drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the new car the next day. Mena sat quietly in the passenger seat, watching out her window. They were near the shore, near enough to smell the crisp, salty air, and every once in a while, there was a big enough gap between buildings so they caught glimpses of the water.

  He smiled, watching her crane her neck at the next open space. “We should find a spot right on the beach.”

  She turned to look at him. “Probably not with the spring break people.”

  He’d forgotten about the timing. “Damn.”

  She smiled and shifted her gaze back to her window.

  He was going to find them a beachfront place. And when the college kids returned to school, they’d have the beach to themselves. All kinds of wicked ideas floated through his head, making him smile.

  “When you grin like that, I know dangerous things are on your mind,” Mena said mildly.

  “Good. Then you’re forewarned,” he growled, reaching over to give her thigh a squeeze.

  She sucked in a quick breath, then set one of her hands over his. “Eyes on the road, Ryder.”

  He laughed, but left his hand where it was.

  He found them a beachfront place, a grand old hotel near the end of the beach in one of the many tiny towns dotting the Gulf Coast side of Florida. There weren’t even any college kids clogging the lobby when they checked in. He took that as a good sign.

  Their room looked out over the shore, and from the hotel, they simply had to cross the wooden walkway to reach the sand. It would be a beautiful spot to watch the sunset later, he mused, giving Mena’s shoulders a squeeze as they stood on the balcony outside their room, breathing in the sea air.

  She leaned into his side and wrapped her arm around his waist. “This is nice.” Her tone was wistful, her green eyes misty.

  He knew she still didn’t think this was forever.

  He was going to change her mind, if it was the last thing he ever did.

  He hoped it wasn’t the last thing he did.

  Sighing, he released her and went inside to get the bags off the four-poster bed. He set his laptop on the round table near the balcony and booted it up.

  Mena leaned against the railing, her arms stretched out to either side of her. “Working?”

  “Just need to check in.” He admired the view for a moment, though, while the computer came to life. She’d discarded her cardigan earlier, and now wore only a thin cotton t-shirt over her skirt. He could see the lace of her bra through the shirt, and it made him want to tug the shirt off so he could get a better look.

  Instead, he dragged his gaze away from her knowing smile and sat in one of the chairs beside the table.

  A handful of new emails.

  Mena came in and pulled her cell from her purse.

  He watched her sit on the foot of the bed as she dialed her mother, admiring her long legs. None of her wool skirts were suitable for Florida. They’d have to do a little more shopping.

  He could hardly wait to get to the swimsuits.

  “Wipe that evil grin off your face,” she chided him with her own smile, dropping back to lie flat on the bed. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

  Ryder made no attempt to clear the grin from his face as he opened the first email, from Carys. The trusts were good to go, so they could get paperwork started with a real estate agent to sell the houses. That wasn’t going to be a fun conversation, he mused.

  “What?” Mena shot to her feet, smile gone, her curls bouncing behind her as she strode to the other end of the room.

  He frowned, glancing at the subject lines of the rest of his emails before he opened Danny’s. Then shut his eyes. Damn.

  “Is she all right?” She shot him a glare as she whipped around to pace out to the balcony.

  He watched her. This might be ugly.

  “Uh-huh.” Another glare on her way back inside.

  He resigned himself to an argument, sprawling in his seat to finish reading the email.

  “Oh, my Gods.” She huffed out a loud breath as she stalked outside again where she stopped dead. “A baby?”


  Ryder winced. Damn, Desi. He shut the email program and closed the laptop, folding his hands over his middle to watch her pace, her free hand clenched into a fist at her side. Yeah, this would be ugly.

  Mena finally clicked off the phone and tossed it blindly onto the bed. “Did you know about this? About Desi and the Harvester at Mom’s?” Her words could have chipped rocks, they were so hard and sharp.

  “Just found out after you.” He indicated the computer.

  “We have to go back.” Her mouth tightened into a flat line.

  “No.”

  Her green eyes widened at his mild refusal, then narrowed, spitting fire. “My sister had a run-in at Mom’s with a Harvester while she had a baby in tow. These people won’t stop, Ryder. If I go home, I can deal with them. My family can be safe. I don’t care about me.”

  He shot to his own feet, not feeling at all bad about towering over her. “I care about you. You are not going anywhere near your mother’s house, Mena. If your sister isn’t responsible enough or smart enough to listen when people tell her to stay the hell away, that is her own fault, not yours. My mission is to keep you safe, dammit, not to deliver you to the Harvesters.”

  She glared harder at him. “I don’t want to be your ‘mission’, Ryder. I am falling in love with you, dammit, and I want my family safe, including you and my irresponsible sister. If that means I have to go back and stand in their way, then I’m going.”

  His heart stopped beating for a second, then bounced off his ribs, back and forth, hard and fast, with no regular rhythm. He felt the smile breaking over his face, as her cheeks went white, her eyes rounding in shock, lips dropping open for a second before closing firmly. “Say it again,” he said slowly, reaching to catch her upper arms and steady her when she swayed a little.

  Her lips parted, but nothing came out for a moment. “Oh Gods,” she whispered finally, shutting her eyes for a second.

  “Tell me, Mena.” She had to say it again.

  She met his gaze, hers swimming with sudden tears. “I said I’m falling in love with you.” Her voice broke.

  He yanked her close and covered her mouth with his, triumph rushing through him, along with a huge swell of emotion in his chest. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she lifted into his kiss, making him gentle it when he would have ravaged her mouth in his victory.