Stone Passions Trilogy (102 page)

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Authors: A. C. Warneke

BOOK: Stone Passions Trilogy
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Fray, on the other hand, got along fabulously with the lesser god. The two of them spent hours playing chess. On three different boards. Of course, Ferris had to be there to move Fray's pieces, since his little arms and big body did not do so well with the chess board. The dragon took great pleasure in talking out loud, only rarely speaking telepathically anymore. They had no secrets from Marick.

On the fifth anniversary of Armand's entombment, Ferris felt the weight of mortality pressing down on her. Even with a drop or two of Medusa's blood every month she felt time as a living thing, dragging her further and further away from the man she loved. It didn't matter that she still looked the same as she had nearly five years before because she felt older. The doubts that were always in the back of her mind reared their ugly little heads and she wanted to drown her sorrows.

Marick poured her a glass of wine before pouring himself a glass as well. Sitting down on the couch, he held up his glass and solemnly murmured, "Cheers."

With a wry nod, she swallowed the wine down in one gulp, barely tasting the expensive alcohol as it burned a path to her stomach. She didn't want to think about the life she had been forced to create without her heart. It was a good life but it was missing something. It was missing Armand. She had spent far too many lonely nights in her bed, crying herself to sleep.

She also felt guilty because she hardly ever spent any time at the castle anymore. If she went, then she would want to spend time on the roof with Armand. And then she would crawl into his arms and never want to leave. Then there were some days that she just wanted to forget him because he wasn't able to take her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be alright. She had hoped that after five years the hole would have been easier to bear but it wasn't and time just kept marching on.

"I miss him," she whispered, leaning into Marick's embrace, taking comfort in the cowboy's arms. If it weren't for Marick, she probably would have packed up her life and moved to Tahiti by now. Since she had Medusa's blood, she could have travelled the world looking for the secret that would bring Armand back to her, losing herself in the process. He kept her somewhat sane.

"He left you, Ferris,” Marick whispered in her ear, lightly kissing her neck while pouring another glass of wine. She had no idea how many glasses she had drank, having lost count before she even began. Tonight was a night to drink to forget. In the morning, when she looked in the mirror and saw that she wasn't aging, that all hope wasn't lost, she would pull her big girl panties up and persevere.

This time, she took her time sipping the wine, enjoying the bouquet of flavors. Closing her eyes, she slouched further into the couch. "I know."

“Armand has slept with hundreds, hell, thousands of women,” he murmured seductively, nibbling on her earlobe. She was far too depressed to care. “He slept with a stranger so he wouldn’t have to give up his nights to you.”

“Shut up,” she chided, the hurt too close to the surface on the anniversary of Armand becoming a statue. She put her hand over his gorgeous face and pushed him away. “Omari promised he would look into finding a solution. I just have to wait."

“That old wizard is a fool.” Marick stiffened in the seat next to her and scowled, “It shouldn’t be taking this long and I shouldn’t have fallen in love with you, you’re a human.”

Ferris looked at him, covering her mouth as she struggled not to laugh at Marick’s outburst. Nudging him with her shoulder, feeling the effects of too many glasses of wine, she murmured, “In a way you remind me of that old wizard.”

He slid his hand into hers and twined their fingers together. Resting his head against the top of her skull, he heaved a sigh, “You spent a single night exploring Chicago's supernatural nightlife with him, Ferris. You know nothing about him.”

“It was a very intense night,” Ferris said, emphasizing the word intense, smiling slightly at the memory from another life. Laying her cheek against the curve of his neck, breathing in the scent of sunshine and Marick, she sighed, “It was a good night.”

“Yeah,” he whispered in agreement, toying with her fingers.

She lifted her head and looked at him as if he were mad, “You weren’t there, you doofus.”

His smile was slow and erotic and her breath caught in her throat. Shaking her head to clear it of alcohol and confusion, she was about to say something else when his mouth covered hers. The connection with another being was so intense that she lost herself for a moment, savoring the taste of heat and desire and wine.

But the taste was off and the lips were wrong. Pulling back, she covered her lips, staring at him in shock, "What are you doing?"

He gave her his most charming smile and kissed her on the tip of her nose. Crowding in a little closer, he refilled her glass of wine. "I kissed you."

"Yes," she nodded, her brain sloshing around in a pool of wine. "I am aware of that. Why?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders and didn't quite meet her eyes, "Because I wanted to."

"But you've never expressed an interest in me in that way," she whispered.

"You've just never noticed." His smile was wry as he shook his head, "What if you do all of this for him and it's not enough? What if he doesn't want you when he wakes up?"

Her words caught in her throat because it was something she had refused to think about. Hearing Marick speak her deepest fears out loud made her want to cover her ears like a child. Licking her lips, she swallowed her doubt, "He loves me."

"Aw, sweetheart, you're still so very young," he murmured compassionately, killing Ferris with kindness. Twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers, he heaved a dramatic sigh. "If he loves you he never should have left you.
I
never would have left you."

The alcohol was making her weepy and she felt the tears welling in her eyes. Suddenly she was so confused as the doubts became overwhelming, laughing at her, taunting her for being a freak. Nobody believed in destiny anymore, certainly not twenty-six year old women who had a dragon for a pet, an imp shifter for a best friend and a lesser god as a roommate.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked brokenly, looking up into the warm hazel eyes of a lesser god. "He's all I want."

"He's all you've ever known."

"He's all I want," she repeated softly, drowning in the warmth of being desired and wanted.

 

 

Ferris burst into Omari’s Saint Paul shop, her heart racing in her chest, her blood freezing in her veins, and her stomach in turmoil. She was grateful his card said that he was in town instead of Chicago. “Omari! We need to get him back, now! Omari!”

He stepped out from behind a wall, wiping his hands on the front of his shirt, his long, white hair in disarray, a bead of sweat on his forehead. For some strange reason he didn’t look as old as she remembered him; he had fewer wrinkles and he was more robust. Oddly, his eyes weren’t as full of laughter as before. He looked at her and for a moment, she could have sworn he had Marick’s eyes.

Shaking her head to dispel the image, she crossed the short distance between them, unable to get her heartbeat under control. Shaking, she put her hands in his, tears glistening in her eyes, “Omari, please, I want him back.”

“I gave you Medusa’s blood so you won’t age,” he said calmly, his lips pressed together in a thin line, almost as if he were angry. “Why do you feel the need to rush things?”

“I want him back,” she said miserably, her eyes glistening with tears. “Besides, I only have the one vial of her blood. It’s not going to last the sixty or so years that I'll need it.”

His gaze moved over her face, taking note of the desperation in her expression. After a moment, he came to a decision and slowly nodded, his shoulders heaving as he sighed. “There are two ways to wake him,” he said, igniting Ferris’s hope. “The first is to kill the woman who has his nights.”

Ferris gasped, immediately dismissing the absurd suggestion. She knew that the second option wasn’t going to be much better and the little drop of hope was going to be dashed against the rocky edges of her heart.

“The second is to have an immortal fall in love with her.” That little spark flared for only a heartbeat before he put the kibosh on that one, too. “Unfortunately, there is no creature willing to cross a gargoyle, not for a mere human. And if there was such a creature it wouldn’t end well for the woman. Are you really that selfish, Ferris?”

Two tears slipped down her cheek because in that moment she was that selfish. She wanted Armand with an unbearable desperation. Drowning in Omari’s accusing stare, she finally shook her head no, surprised by the sense of relief that she wasn’t willing to condemn some poor woman to Hell because she had been lucky enough to accept Armand’s nights. “Then tell me what I can do.”

His eyes moved over her face in a caress that was almost loving. Reaching up, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting his fingers rest against her jaw. He finally met her eyes and she saw the longing in them and she held her breath. He framed her face with his hands, holding her gaze, unwilling to let her look away. “Oh, Ferris, simply take this time to grow up, to experience life and all that it has to offer before tying yourself to one man, even a gargoyle.”

“I can’t,” she choked out, desperate to tear her eyes from his and unable to do so. Wrapping her fingers around his surprisingly strong wrists, she held onto him, afraid of letting go.

He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping the tears away, as he continued watching her. “Why not?”

Swallowing thickly against the lump in her throat, she rasped, “I love Armand, Omari, you know that. But I fucked up… I mean, I really fucked up.”

“What happened?” he asked slowly, cautiously, his eyes watching every nuance of her expression.

“I miss him so much and Marick has been so amazing and it’s just everything is happening and the world is changing so fast and time won't slow down but it isn't passing quick enough,” she rambled, knowing she was rambling and unable to stop the words from spewing forth incoherently. “And I love him, of course I love him, but I promised myself that I would wait for Armand but then I didn’t and somehow I gave in but now I hate myself and I want Armand back.”

Omari stared at her with a blank expression, having probably lost track of the conversation somewhere around 'I miss him.' Taking a breath and letting it out slowly, trying to gather her words into something more coherent, she said, “I can’t separate sex and love and I don't want to fall in love with Marick. I love Armand. Does that make me a bad person?”

A slow smile spread over Omari’s face before he threw his head back and laughed. Ferris was not amused and struggled to pull away from his hold but his grip was unforgiving. “Oh, Ferris. Your heart is so big you can love both of them and still have enough love left over for any other stray that comes along.”

“I only want Armand,” she admitted in a small voice, her eyes drowning, her heart breaking. “I’ve only ever wanted Armand. But Marick is… he’s so loving and attentive and he’s everything I should love in a man but he’s not Armand. I don't want to hurt him but I can't be someone I'm not.”

Omari pulled her into his arms, hugging her against his chest and suddenly she knew that he was much older than she had ever imagined, much more powerful. “Armand has been with so many women, Ferris. Do you really think he would begrudge you one man?”

Her brows furrowed at the reasoning Marick had used the night before, the night….

“Knowing Armand,” Omari continued, derailing her thoughts before she could piece them together. “He was probably very noble and told you to find someone else, to fall in love and get married, have children.”

Her breath stilled, her heart stilled, her spirit separated from her body, as she tilted her head back and looked up at him, seeing the familiar lines of Marick beneath Omari’s wrinkles, seeing Marick’s warm, hazel eyes. A horrible realization stabbed her in her chest as she saw what she hadn’t wanted to see. Softly, nervously, she reached up and ran her fingers over his lips, “It’s you.”

“You and your aunt have always been so good at seeing beneath the surface,” he chuckled, kissing the tips of her fingers. “It is both exciting and terribly inconvenient, my love.”

Trembling with fury, she stepped out of his arms and watched as he morphed into the familiar Marick she had spent the last five years with, the man she thought she knew. Covering her mouth to stifle the cry of outrage, she glared at her treacherous friend. In a voice soft with rage, she hissed, “You lied to me! You’ve been lying to me the entire time. My God! I trusted you, I… Oh, God.”

“I told you I needed sanctuary,” he said softly, his hazel eyes so familiar and so painful to look at.

“What is sanctuary, Marick?” she breathed, her soul slamming back into her body with a jolt. “Or should I call you Omari?”

He shook his head, “I am Marick in this form.”

“Great,” she sneered. Through clenched teeth, she repeated her earlier question, “What is sanctuary?”

“It’s peace, Ferris,” he growled, stepping forward and crowding her space. Reaching up, he curled his hand around the back of her neck and held her in place as he stared down at her. Power blazed in his hazel eyes and she knew that he could wipe out her entire existence in a heartbeat if he wanted. She also knew that he would never do that to her. “It’s the peace of being with you, of being in your arms.”

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