Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
CASSANDRA
The blood from her spear-tip sprayed through the air in a majestic arc as she whipped the weapon around. Perseus had never even drawn his, crushed beneath her as she’d landed in a dive. The deck of the ship splintered around his corpse, so far had she driven him into the ship.
The blood whipped again. Men fell without a shout of discovery.
The noises came after they’d hit the ground, so fast was she, so slow were they to register the shock.
I couldn’t breathe, my gaze stuck on the crushed form of Perseus.
His bronze helm was crumpled. The deck was slick, but a puddle was forming under him, black in the night.
Another fell beside him, gasping like a fish out of water, clutching at his chest.
I forced myself to look up but I couldn’t see her, not properly.
She was spinning through the air in a graceful kick, her wings retracting as I watched.
The spear moved in quick, tight arcs now, back and forth, sending sprays of blood from the tip and water from the haft.
Her snakes writhed, flaring their hoods, hissing.
The soldiers around her stood transfixed. As if they’d been turned to stone through sheer terror.
Then she shattered them.
Her claws cut through the thick cording like it was an overripe fig and the rope was ripped away from me, making my head spin. Apologies and thanks tumbled through my head as she pulled me free.
“Did they hurt you?” she demanded, the words a hiss of fury.
My head swam. How had we got here? Before I could answer her mouth was on mine and I felt the bite of the mast behind me, the wind on my skin, the unyielding strength of her lips on mine.
“Hold on,” she commanded.
I was already. I couldn’t hold her any tighter, not if our lives truly had depended on it.
The roar of her wings, of a million feathers moving at ferocious speed for a short distance, sounded like freedom. The air bit into me, icy. The darkness wasn’t terrifying, though, nor the height, nor these speeds.
I really should have just stayed in our nest. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
I felt her change direction in the air with deliberation, as if sighting her target. The second ship. The way she’d cut them all down in moments—
She moved powerfully, a sharp, jerky motion that made my heart lurch and terror flood my veins, though her arm around me never once slipped. The spear flew from her hand.
Below, I heard a deep, thunderous cracking.
Wood splitting. Men shouting. She was moving again, though, her hands searching me for injuries, her mouth against my ear.
The serpents writhed over my shoulders. Her legs caught one of mine between hers.
I could feel her heart thundering to get to mine through our ribs.
I was surrounded. Mid-air, in the dark, she checked me for wounds.
She was saying something. I couldn’t hear it over the roar of the wind and waves.
She wanted me to know I was safe.
The tension flooded out of me. She’d sank a ship with only her spear. She could turn men to stone, if only in terror.
I wasn’t accustomed to the feeling of being…wrong.
The apologies behind my lips were useless in the rush of air.
Instead, I found her mouth for another kiss, gentle and reassuring.
She was breathing in hard, sharp gasps. My breasts flattened against her chest. I found the edge of her mouth with my lips, pressing the gentlest kiss I could to that tiny little corner of paradise.
It’s okay, I wanted to tell her. I don’t make the same mistake twice.
Not really. I’m sorry to scare you. But the words would never reach her, so I could only hold them, for now, and tell her with actions instead.
One of my arms I kept locked around her waist. The other I wrapped around her neck, nuzzling at the sensitive point beneath her ear.
Her hands on me flexed and her spine arched. I shifted between her legs but she held me too firmly to find more than the merest hint of pleasure.
In the air she wobbled a little, and the laugh that wanted to bubble up out of my throat shocked me. A moment later her hand was on my leg, as if she’d had the same thought. I was guided, pushed and pulled, buffeted by the wind and the storm.
I was safe in her hands. Cold, yes, but safe.
Her wings beat around us, a rhythmic drumming.
My robe was pushed aside. Her hands didn’t go near me.
She was so scared of hurting me. Her arm looped around my waist and my whole world existed inside the beating of her wings as she positioned my cunt against hers.
The movement of those beating wings, the gentle up and down, the hot wetness of her pussy, made my head spin.
Hunger rushed through me, shocking me. Her snakes nuzzled at the corners of my mouth and the edges of my nipples, rubbing, seeking.
The cold of the world was there, still, felt against my back and at the tips of my toes, but heat streamed through me.
She was so wet. We needed to get to ground so I could taste her, so I could bury my face in the glorious center of her.
We slipped together, not far, just far enough.
Tiny movements as her wings beat and we held on to each other in the middle of the night. In the middle of the storm.
The heat was molten as it spread through me, searing me, leaving me gasping and panting.
I didn’t search for the end, though. I’d learned that from her.
Poised over the vice of her fangs, or aching as she circled my clit with the soft pad of one claw-tipped hand.
I remained. I waited. I enjoyed every moment, not seeking the next.
The storm raged around us, impotent in the circle of her wings.
She shuddered. She shifted. I felt the break in our rhythm and wanted to weep, but I understood it.
I knew the clawing hunger and why her hands gripped me desperately, not out of fear but need.
I rode the waves of it as they built. I felt the throbbing in her pussy and it spread through me, too.
The wonder of it, the sweetness overwhelmed me.
I rode it for long, endless moments that felt like they were over before they’d even begun.
That felt eternal. Like overheated metal I lay in her arms, between her legs, pliant and giving.
I imagined I could hear her prayers, my name on her lips, as we spun through the darkness.
When we finally landed in the temple my legs collapsed beneath me. She caught me, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Stay close,” she said, over the wind. “There’s more about.”
I tried to, but my legs wobbled again, barely holding.
A small part of me worried she had no weapon. She looked down at me. I couldn’t make out her expression, but it wasn’t anger.
I opened my mouth to apologize when a man rushed from the darkness.
Medusa’s leg swept up, deflecting the edge of his spear and circling it around, driving it into the ground. The hand holding me remained gentle. The other moved forward in a sharp movement, fingers straight. Bones crunched. She ripped her hand backwards and tossed something dark and bloody aside.
I stared after it.
“The crows don’t mind the hearts of men,” she said, pressing another kiss to my lips. “Though they’d prefer the livers. Come. It’s cold out. I’ll put some wine on to warm. You’ve had a long day.”
I stepped over the corpse of a man who hadn’t listened to me, lifting the hem of my robe. “I can put the wine on,” I told her. “You go finish feeding the crows.”
She hesitated. “Are you sure?”
I rolled my eyes. “I can mull some wine, Medusa. Yes, I’m sure.
” Anyway, my legs mightn’t carry me the whole way as I ran along behind her.
I was tired. She was going to protect. It was what she did.
Well, I’d make her somewhere soft to land when she was done, and kiss away the last lingering worries. “Thank you.”
Though I couldn’t see the smile on her lips, I could feel it in her kiss.
“My pleasure,” she murmured. “Be safe. Mind your toes on the cracked floor.” She stepped back, and most of the serpents faced forward now into the darkness.
One shot out and rubbed its head against my hand.
Smiling, I waited for her to go, then gingerly made my way toward our home.