Hunting Medusa: The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1 (8 page)

“Andrea.” His tone was almost a singsong, with that faintest of accents. And it was nearer this time than the last time he’d spoken.

Andi ground her teeth together, counting to ten. It was stupid. She knew it was the start of PMS. She knew she was overreacting. Knowing didn’t make it better. She glared at the counter instead of Kallan. And counted ten more.

A small ding appeared in the granite. She shut her eyes. “I think you should go.”

He snorted, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to look up at him.

“Andrea.” His tone was low now, patient.

“Harvester.” Her own was not. Patient, that is. She almost felt like she could spit nails she was so angry. He was asking her to trust him when his sole intention in tracking her here was to kill her. And now he wanted her trust. She stared at the new divot in the granite.

His finger touched the ding. “Stress speeds up the process, I see,” he said mildly.

She nodded.

“What can I do to earn just that little bit of trust?” He slid his fingertip closer to her hand on the counter.

“I need a pair of scissors.” She didn’t know what had made her say it, but she did need them. Very badly. She knew she couldn’t trust him, and nothing he could do would change that. But she could pretend for the sake of getting the scissors.
 

He considered for a moment, his fingertip grazing the side of her hand. “Do you mind if I ask why?”

“I need a haircut.” Also true.

He bent nearer, his expression disbelieving. “A haircut?”

She nodded, trying to avoid his eyes.

His gaze slid to her hair, and she knew when he realized her reasoning. Awareness deepened the green of his eyes. “All right.”

She gripped the edge of the counter again, surprise coursing through her. “Really?”

He nodded. “And you’ll wear the sleep mask.”

Andi only hesitated a second before she nodded. It was a small price to pay to prevent the other thing. If he killed her while she couldn’t see him—well, that would be her own fault.

Kallan kissed her cheek lightly, surprising her once more. “Scissors tonight, sleep mask tomorrow?”

She nodded dumbly, watching him move away to stir their dinner. Somehow, she hadn’t expected him to agree so easily. Or that he would understand.

And somehow, she didn’t feel good about either one.

Kallan watched as she pushed her food around on her plate. He plowed through his meal, starved after their trek through the woods. He still hadn’t figured out what to do about the amulet, but right now it didn’t matter. He needed to get her out of here before Stavros came calling.

Or he needed to delay his cousin.

He paused, fork halfway to his mouth. If Stavros was in New York, there was only one person anywhere who could slow him down. Kallan would have to lie to get it accomplished—a much bigger lie than his fib about his location—but right now, he was okay with that. He stuffed his last bite of fish into his mouth and shoved his plate aside before he grabbed the laptop to connect to the family’s website.

Andrea played with her food for another moment, then rose to dump her plate.

The log-in screen granted him access, and he swiftly typed in his message, leaving tantalizing hints of what he believed he’d found so far, a little brag at the end. He didn’t address his post to anyone in particular, but knew his great-uncle would see it and stop Stavros from traveling to Maine, sending him instead to Ohio, on a wild goose chase. Kallan just hoped it would be a long enough delay for him to get Andrea away—he’d need three or four days.

He hadn’t realized she’d come back for his plate until she brushed his arm, and he quickly closed the laptop, smiling up at her. Her eyes were wary, though, as she moved away. He watched her, noting the stiff set of her shoulders and jaw. And hoped she hadn’t read his message.

Andi eyed the small pair of scissors in her hand. They’d do the job, but she wondered—stifling a giggle—if the Harvester could have found a smaller pair. They looked like the embroidery scissors Aunt Celosia kept in the tiny sewing box that had forever sat beside her wing chair.

As long as they were sharp enough to cut her hair. Her urge to smile vanished, and she inhaled deeply. She made the first cut and ignored the dark curls that fell onto the towel she’d laid across the sink.

Half an hour later, her hair was an inch and a half shorter, framing her face even more closely than any other time of the month. And small tufts of dark brown hair covered the towel.

Andi dumped the towel’s contents into the trash, then dropped the towel into the hamper. Her fingers trembled slightly now that the dreaded task was finished for another month.

Or maybe for the last time.

She frowned at the voice in her head. No, not for the last time. She would still be alive next month. She had to be.

Kallan stuck his head around the doorframe, his expression somber. “Finished?”

She didn’t reply, as the question didn’t need an answer. Just held out the tiny scissors to him, handles first. And tried not to think of the handcuffs he’d already hung on her headboard to contain her again tonight.

He took the scissors, one eyebrow slightly lifted. “Are you all right?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she muttered, moving past him.

He caught her arm. “Are you all right?” he repeated, his green gaze capturing hers.

She looked away, aware of the strength of the emotions coursing through her. “Fine. I’m fine.” This was also the same man who’d told someone earlier that he believed he’d found the Medusa and hoped to have completed his task in the next thirty-six to seventy-two hours. That didn’t help soothe her. She tugged at her arm, but he held on tight enough to keep her in place, but not tight enough to hurt her. She frowned harder—at his fingers though, not at him directly. It wouldn’t work yet anyway. In another day, however…

“What’s wrong?”

“I just need a little while.” Her jaw ached from grinding her teeth together. “Let go.” Why was he being so solicitous now?

He didn’t release her, but steered her into the bedroom instead.

Andi sighed. “Alone, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t think so.” He sat on the foot of her bed and pulled her down beside him, then slid his hand down to circle her wrist instead of her bicep. “You do this every month?”

She gave up trying to free her arm and stared at the floor. Just beyond the rag rug, a divot appeared in the golden wood. And another when she shifted her gaze. His question didn’t really require an answer.

“Does it work?”

Of course he knew why she cut her hair so short. She hadn’t had to spell it out for him earlier. “Yes.” Somehow, his knowing and understanding without her having to explain that when her hair was this short, it couldn’t turn into snakes didn’t make her feel better.

“When did you figure that out as an option?” His tone was conversational, as if they were instead sitting on her front porch, talking about the weather, rather than five feet from where he’d be handcuffing her to the bed for the night, and not for anything really fun.

She debated her response and finally decided it didn’t matter if he knew more about her now. This man wouldn’t be scared off, after all. He only intended to stick around long enough to find a way to steal the amulet and kill her, not long enough to develop a deeper relationship. “When the second man flipped out and ran away.” Which was when she’d stopped dating seriously.

He was silent for a long time, and she thought perhaps he’d given up on the conversation. “Most human men might be a little unnerved by it,” he said finally.

A short laugh escaped her. “Unnerved? No, this was total mental meltdown. Run away screaming like a girl, never come back meltdown.” Which the Harvester wasn’t doing. Instead, he was being nice. It was almost enough to make her want to cry. Almost. She hadn’t lost complete control to her cursed hormones yet.

Kallan’s fingers squeezed her wrist gently. “Had you talked about any of this to him before then?”

“Yes, and I’m sure he thought I was crazy. Not crazy enough to stop dating completely, but a little touched. The snakes, though…” She swallowed. “The snakes convinced him I wasn’t lying. Or maybe he just thought he’d had a hallucination. I never got the chance to ask, really.” The old pain reared its head when she remembered the way Austin had vanished from her house and her life, almost as fresh as eight years ago.

Warm fingers slid further between her own so his palm touched hers. “He was the second, huh?” He squeezed again, just lightly, sending heat up her arm. “I guess that put a real damper on dating.” His thumb stroked over the back of her hand and up the side of her index finger. “And explains the vibrator.”

She shut her eyes, smiling reluctantly, despite the pain.

“And the romance novel.”

She frowned up at him. “Those are good reads, I’ll have you know.”

“With sex in them.”

She sighed. “I guess I have to give you that one. Still good stories.”

“You know there are drawings and sculptures of the original Medusa, with the snakes and her still very beautiful face.”

“I’m aware.” Her jaw clenched, and she glared at the floor. “Not too many men are in the market for a woman so dangerous, however. Not to mention going out in public like that would be like sending out a worldwide bulletin to your family: ‘here I am, come kill me’.”

He nudged her shoulder with his own. “I’m attempting to cheer you up, Andrea.”

“It’s not working, but thanks.” A larger divot had appeared in the floor, and she slid her shoe forward to touch the mark with the toe.

Kallan released her hand and put his arm around her shoulders. “Should I distract you in a different way?”

“I thought we agreed that wasn’t happening.” She didn’t move away, though she knew she needed to. Before her hormones really kicked in. She rubbed the bigger dip in the wood floor with her toe again.

“Stop glaring holes into the floor,” he murmured, nuzzling the top of her ear.

“Better the floor than you, wouldn’t you say?” She tilted her head away from him, but he just bent to the side of her neck.

“You smell good.” He licked her skin, sending a shock through her. “Taste good.”

Andi jumped when his other hand settled on her thigh. “Harvester.”

“That isn’t going to work,” he whispered, nipping her throat.

“Neither is this.” She resisted the need to whimper when his teeth grazed her neck in advance of a slow, open-mouthed kiss over the same spot.

He squeezed her thigh lightly, and heat shot into her middle.

Well, okay, maybe it was working. A little.

When he tilted her back, she let him catch her mouth. Just for a minute. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but this really was a pretty good distraction.

His kiss was even better now than that morning. Much better than last night. It turned her brain to mush and made her pulse quicken. Made her ache.

When his tongue slid along her lower lip, she met it with her own, coaxing him into her mouth, and then the mush of her brain disintegrated into ash. Poof—nothing left.

When the mattress hit her back, she barely noticed, sliding her hands up to twine in his hair and keeping his delicious mouth close. He didn’t seem to need persuading, shifting over her so his chest pressed into her suddenly aching breasts, sliding over her tight nipples and sending a rush of need into her middle. Lower.

He murmured something against her mouth, but she didn’t know what—didn’t really care. The hand he’d had on her thigh slid higher, pushing her legs apart to stroke her through her jeans, which felt damp and in the way. She let him shift her, lifting into his caresses, gratified to hear his groan.

When Kallan moved his own thigh between hers, nudging it against her core, she caught her breath at the explosion of desire. Holy Gods, he knew just where and how to touch her. She whimpered this time in spite of herself when he rubbed over her clit. If she let him, he’d have her naked and under him in no time flat. Bad idea. But that didn’t mean she was ready to stop yet. She pushed at his shoulders and rolled him underneath her this time.

He laughed against her mouth, sliding his hand up under the back of her shirt.

She smiled too, just because, pressing her hips down over his. Gods, he felt good.

She didn’t want to think about who they were, or why he was here, or if this might be her last few days alive. She wanted this, man and woman, heat and need. Just for a little while. Let her cursed hormones have their way one last time.
 

When his other hand slid under the front of her shirt to capture her breast, she arched into the caress, lifting her mouth to try to get a bit of oxygen to her deprived brain.

“I want you, Andrea,” he rasped, tugging her bra down so he could pinch her nipple tight.

She gasped. “Oh Gods.”

“Yes, hard and fast, and slow and easy.” He rolled the taut peak between his finger and thumb, then pinched it again so she arched into his touch.