11. Gordy
Chapter 11
Gordy
I hear the crunch of gravel before I see them, and my gut clenches with a mix of embarrassment and hope. Verity’s voice wafts through the air before she steps into view, followed by Gideon, who looks like he could benchpress a library.
Alice introduced us all at a burger joint in town. Not my usual kind of place, but then Alice told me the story about how Gideon and Verity met, how he’d turned her to stone, and how he’d attempted to win her over by singing to her at the place. It was a sweet story, and they were a genuine couple.
And Alice finally confessed her concerns about her “witchy” abilities to her best friend, although I suspected Verity already knew and was waiting for Alice to broach the subject.
Regardless, Gideon and Verity are a couple who can understand my dilemma, which is the most important part. And they’re finally here.
“Gordy,” Verity greets me with a beautiful smile that somehow doesn’t feel out of place, even in this dire situation. Her eyes flick past me to Alice, and the smile falters. “Oh… oh, no.” Her voice goes soft. “She’s been like this the whole time?”
I nod tightly. “It’s been weeks. Can’t say I’ve ever been happier to see two people,” I admit, my voice rough with swallowed pride. I gesture toward the statue that used to be Alice. “I messed up. Big time.”
Verity presses her lips together like she’s holding back a flood of emotion.
Gideon looks at her and something unspoken passes between them—the same kind of something I feel for Alice. “She’s fading. I can feel it. We have to work fast.” His gaze moves to Alice. “We’ll fix this,” he says confidently, his voice reassuringly deep. “There’s a spell. I can teach it to you. But we can’t make any mistakes. The longer she stays like this, the more permanent the separation between body and soul becomes.”
“Really?” My heart somersaults. “That would be great.”
I pause, realizing how impressive Gideon is right now. His snakes are perfectly still on his head, coiled like living crowns. Mine? They’re practically doing the conga in comparison. And, unlike me, Gideon skipped the whole “green-skinned” thing—another questionable “perk” of the Frankenpunch, no doubt.
“Focus, Gordon.” Gideon’s tone snaps my attention back to the matter at hand. He approaches Alice’s stone figure, his expression unreadable as he circles her.
“Interesting,” he murmurs, and my snakes twitch, eager for any bit of information. “She’s different, isn’t she?”
“Unique,” I agree, trying to read his face. “In every possible way.”
“Indeed.” He taps her stone cheek lightly. The sound echoes oddly in the quiet of the room .
Verity doesn’t speak, but I see her hovering beside Alice like she’s afraid to touch her—like she’s afraid her best friend might shatter.
I shuffle closer, anxious. “So, about that spell?”
“Patience,” he chides without looking at me, and I swear one of his snakes smirks at me. “This is delicate work.”
“Right. Delicate,” I repeat, though I’m pretty sure I don’t do delicate. I do “turn people to stone” and “regret.”
“Can you handle delicate?” Verity’s eyes twinkle, but her expression has a tightness that doesn’t match her teasing tone. She’s scared.
“Delicate as a gorgon at a pottery class,” I murmur.
Her laugh is slightly forced, but it still eases a little of the tightness in my chest.
“Let’s get started,” Gideon decides.
My stomach drops. I can only hope he can help me fix this. For Alice’s sake.
“Okay, Gideon, hit me with it,” I say, trying to sound braver than I feel. My snakes are restless, sensing the gravity of the moment as they slither around my head.
Gideon’s gaze locks onto mine, his serpentine hair a controlled dance of silent whispers. “She’s not simply a witch, Gordy. Her powers either amplify or suppress magic, shaped by her emotions.”
I frown. “Right, I’ve… sort of noticed that. It’s like she short-circuits things sometimes. Or supercharges them.”
Gideon nods, returning his gaze to Alice. “That kind of instability usually comes from latent ancestral magic—something old and deeply embedded. And hers feels… familiar.”
My heart skips. “Familiar how?”
He’s quiet for a beat. “I sense something in her magical signature—something that responds to me. Like a mirror. It’s subtle, but it’s there.” His gaze sharpens. “She has gorgon hunter blood in her, Gordy. Way, way back. Just a flicker, but it’s enough to stir your instincts. Enough to make your snakes lose their minds.”
“What?” I blink. “You’re saying she’s biologically programmed to hunt me? ”
“Distantly,” he confirms. “It’s likely buried so deep that her parents had no idea. But the resonance is real. She’s not just reacting to you—your power is also reacting to her. That’s why the petrification is so strong and why it’s lingered.”
I blink, absorbing the bombshell. “So, what you’re saying is that I accidentally turned her into a statue because we stirred up her ancient assassin instincts during sex?”
Gideon shrugs one massive shoulder. “Basically. Emotions are powerful things. If I’m right, it’s in her DNA, which explains why your powers went haywire. She triggers something primal in your snakes.”
I glance at Alice’s still form, her expression heartbreaking in its stillness. “That’s… horrifyingly romantic.”
Verity snorts behind me. “You two are like magical opposites—equal parts power surge and power outage. No wonder you combusted.”
“She never knew,” I murmur. “None of us did.”
“That’s the thing about ancestral magic,” Gideon says. “It doesn’t care if you know. It’s baked into the soul. And when that kind of blood meets yours? Boom.”
“Terrific,” I mutter, eyeing my unruly hair-snakes. “No wonder they have a mind of their own when she’s around.”
“We can fix this,” Verity says, her voice gentle but firm. But her hands tremble as she adjusts her sleeves, and her eyes don’t leave Alice’s face.
“Right.” I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. “Teach me.”
Gideon nods, and we begin. He guides me through an intricate web of spells and counter-spells, his instructions clear and methodical.
I follow each step, carefully enunciating the ancient words that taste like dust on my tongue. Hours pass as Gideon recites the chants over and over until my brain feels like it’s about to explode and sweat drenches me.
“Concentrate on your connection with her,” Gideon instructs at one point when he notices my flagging energy. “Channel your desire to see her, to hold her, into the spell. ”
I close my eyes and inhale deeply. It’s the easiest and hardest thing I’ve ever done. Images of Alice, her laugh, the spark in her eyes when she talks about her favorite books, and her vibrant blue eyes fill my mind, fueling my determination.
And this time, as the final word slips from my lips, a warm glow envelops Alice’s stone form. The air crackles with energy, and my heart hammers against my ribs. Then, like the slow bloom of a flower, the petrification reverses.
Flesh returns to her cheeks, color seeping back into her once-gray skin. Her brown hair cascades over her shoulders, and those dark blue eyes flutter open, dazed and confused but alive.
“Alice!” I cry out, overwhelming joy washing over me.
She stumbles forward, and I catch her in my arms as we fall to our knees. She’s real, warm, and her pulse thrums against my skin. My snakes, for once, are silent, sharing in the wonder of her return.
“Gordy?” Her voice is a whisper, but it’s music to my ears. “Thanks for wrapping me in that robe. I’d have hated to be naked in front of Verity and Gideon. She’d have smacked him for looking at my what-nots and bits and bobs.”
“You’re welcome,” I manage to say, my usual humor failing me. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you,” she breathes, and though she’s shaken, there’s no mistaking the relief that floods her features.
Verity immediately drops to her knees beside us, brushing Alice’s hair back with trembling fingers. “Are you okay? Do you remember everything?” Her voice cracks. “You scared the hell out of me, you idiot.”
“I’m fine,” Alice whispers. “Mostly. My brain’s a little foggy. Like… like I was dreaming through sand.”
Verity wraps her in a fierce hug. “Don’t ever do that again. I was ready to hex Gordy and shave his snakes.”
“Take it easy,” I tell Alice, my embrace protective as she tries to stand. “You’ve been out of commission for a bit. ”
Her laugh is weak but genuine. “Guess I owe you one, huh?”
“Let’s call it even,” I say with a grin, my confidence creeping back with the sheer relief of holding her warm, responsive body in my arms again. “After all, it’s not every day you get to rescue a beautiful witch from a stony fate.”
“Nor is it common to be saved by a handsome gorgon with questionable hair choices,” she teases, and just like that, the peculiar dance of our romance resumes, tentative but hopeful.
“Questionable?” I feign indignation, but the lightness between us is like a balm to my previously guilt-ridden soul. “I’ll have you know, these snakes are the height of fashion in certain circles.”
“Of course they are.” Alice chuckles, her laughter ringing through the room.
As I hold Alice close, her body warm and supple in my arms, Gideon clears his throat. The moment hangs suspended as we all turn to him, the gravity of what’s happened still settling around us like dust .
“Gordon,” he starts with that steady voice that seems to make even the trees listen, “can you look past what she is?” His gaze flickers to Alice, then back to me. “Can she live with you knowing that, at any moment, you could turn her to stone again? And that her ancient DNA might lead her to one day attack you?”
I stiffen, but Alice’s hand, delicate yet firm, clutches at my shirt. “We can get through this, right?”
She looks up at me, her dark blue eyes searching.
“Of course,” I say, a bit too quickly. “We’ll just avoid playing rock-paper-scissors for keeps.”
Her lips twitch, a ghost of a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. There’s a flicker there, something uneasy, and it gnaws at me. Realization is settling in.
I rake a hand through my hair—well, through the cluster of disgruntled snakes that pass for hair. “Can we stop that from happening again?”
Verity’s expression is thoughtful. “You don’t stop it. You redirect it. ”
Gideon nods. “The key isn’t suppressing the reaction—it’s syncing with it. Bonding. Teaching your snakes to recognize her as not only safe but connected.”
I stare at him. “You want me to bond my snakes to Alice?”
“They already want to,” Gideon confirms. “But you’re standing in the way.”
Verity nods. “Let her in, Gordy. Let them in. If she’s part hunter and part witch, your snakes won’t trust her until they feel she belongs.”
I glance at Alice, into her beautiful eyes. “Yeah,” I whisper. “She belongs.”
Not only to them but to me.
I brush a lock of hair from her face. “We’re both new to this. It’s not every day you find out your girlfriend’s genes are your kryptonite.”
Alice snorts, her face alive with… life . “And it’s not every day your boyfriend needs a ‘Do Not Pet’ sign for his head.”
“True,” I concede .
The mood lightens a fraction before her expression shifts. There’s fear there, real, palpable fear, and it slices through me sharper than any blade.
“I need to shower,” she says suddenly, pulling away from me with an urgency that stings. “And change my clothes. At my apartment.”
“Sure,” I reply, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. “I’ve washed your clothes and put them in the bathroom.”
She nods, a quick, jerky motion, and darts toward the bathroom to dress, her movements as skittish as a deer caught in headlights. As she disappears inside, my heart clenches tight.
“Gordon,” Gideon says, a hint of sympathy in his tone, “she’ll need time.”
“Time, huh?” I watch the closed door, the weight of my snakes resting heavily on my shoulders. “Guess I’m pretty good at turning things to stone, including relationships.”
“Give her space, but be there,” Gideon advises with the wisdom of someone who’s walked a rocky path or two. “She’s scared, but she’s here. That’s what counts. ”
“Right,” I mutter, uncertain if I’m trying to convince him or myself. “Here.”
Gideon claps a hand on my shoulder, and I can tell by the weight of his gaze that he’s about to drop some heavy wisdom. “Gordon, before we head out, think long and hard about this. Your road with Alice is going to be full of potholes.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” I reply, keeping the sarcasm light. Can’t let the guy see how much I’m freaking out.
Verity smiles, the kind of smile that says she knows exactly what’s happening in my head. “Gordy, love isn’t easy. Trust me, I’ve been a statue. It gives you plenty of time to think.”
“About what?” I ask, genuinely curious despite myself.
“About how Gideon’s cooking is worth coming back to life for,” she teases, her eyes twinkling as they meet his.
He grins back at her, and I suddenly feel like I’m watching a silent conversation made up of inside jokes and shared moments .
When Gideon’s gaze returns to mine, his expression sobers. “Remember, I turned Verity to stone once, just like you did with Alice. Accidents happen when you’re more serpent than saint. But look at us now.”
“Still together,” Verity chimes in, her hand finding Gideon’s.
“See? It’s doable. Tough, but doable.” Gideon’s words are meant to be reassuring, but they echo like a challenge in my ears.
“Easy for you to say,” I mutter, running a hand through my snake-ridden hair, careful not to rouse them. “Your lady love didn’t sprint for the hills.”
“She did, actually,” Verity says, giving Gideon a soft look. “Before she knew the true core of him. Give her time,” she adds gently, looking at me again. “She’s overwhelmed, not repulsed. Big difference.”
“Right.” I nod, trying to believe it. “Time.”
“Think about what you both want, and communicate,” Gideon adds, giving my shoulder a final squeeze before he and Verity turn to leave. “Remember, you’re not alone. If you ever need to talk or wrangle snakes, give me a call.”
“Thanks, man.” I watch them walk away, their shoulders brushing occasionally, a picture of monstrous harmony.
They disappear down the street, leaving me to wrestle with my tangle of thoughts and serpents. I head to the kitchen, hopeful and terrified in equal measure. Maybe there’s a way for Alice and me, too. After all, if Gideon and Verity can make it work, why can’t we?
“Okay, team,” I whisper to my slithering headmates. “We’ve got some serious groveling to do.”
And then I wait because that’s what you do when you’ve turned your girlfriend to stone. You wait, and you hope she understands that love is more than skin-deep, even when that skin is temporarily petrified.