24. Why was everyone so happy? #3
Yeah, I knew all about blind squirrels finding a nut every now and then.
I’d managed to con Quinn into marrying me, after all, with a little help from his insane family.
After I figured out how to get free of the stone pinning me to the wall, I’d teach Audrey a lesson or two, then I’d deal with my husband for pinning me to the wall in the first place.
I clacked my teeth and swallowed a frustrated scream. “Let me go so I can kick her ass, Quinn.”
“No. It’s my turn. You already had your chance. Don’t worry. She’s not going to touch me—or you.”
I wasn’t worried about Audrey stealing my man. She’d already messed up her chance with him, and he seemed perfectly content toying with me, making me hot and achy with desire, and leaving me tied to a wall.
He’d regret that, later—and I’d enjoy every moment I spent punishing him.
Quinn gave me a final kiss before turning to face his ex-wife.
He brushed the tip of his downy tail beneath my chin, and I shivered at the sinfully soft touch.
Maybe I’d amend my initial plans and schedule a great deal of time cuddling with his tail and wings.
Soft things were meant to be enjoyed, and I could see myself spending hours stroking my hands over him just for the pleasure of the plush texture on my skin.
Unable to do anything to free myself, I voiced my frustration as a hiss through clenched teeth.
Quinn’s grandfather stayed with me and watched his grandson, his arms crossed over his chest. “I understand why you’re angry, but he needs to do this, and you need to watch.
He needs to prove himself to you. You can blame my side of the family for this.
Gorgons are well-known for posturing, and while us males may have many females, we only have one bride. ”
I hadn’t known, but that was what I got for sleeping through my gorgon biology and sociology classes. “He doesn’t need to prove anything. He needs to untie me from this wall so I can kick that bitch in the face.”
“What can I say? He’s a man, and as my queen and bride says, men are stupid. Especially me, for having taught our son to be a man, too, who in turn taught his son. We’re a plague, us men. At least we’re handsome enough to keep around despite being stupid enough to tempt our women to murder us.”
The whole Quinn family needed to see a psychologist. “There are doctors for that, you know. I can recommend a few through the CDC.”
I bet Professor Yale would love a chance to psychoanalyze my husband, his father, and his grandfather.
“Audrey, you fool.” Quinn halted on the edge of the nest, sighed, and shook his head. I grimaced at the disappointment in his tone; he sounded as if he had truly expected better of the woman—gorgon—who had murdered her own brother and left his body to be found in a horrific and humiliating fashion.
“My dust did turn you.” Audrey sat up, her black snakes framed her face and draped over her shoulders. “My dust gave you cobras. Maybe you won’t turn to stone when you make my children.”
Silence.
Quinn’s grandfather slapped his forehead and sighed. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“I’d do the same, but my hands are tied. Do it for me,” I ordered.
He did. Ouch.
“Audrey, you bombed Bailey’s apartment with gorgon dust. Did… did you really do that to infect me with the dust?”
Either Quinn was a really good actor, or he really couldn’t believe his ex-wife could be that reckless.
“Yes,” she hissed. “I had to know if she was the one. She is. Isn’t she beautiful? Our children will rule this world—and all the others, too—even the heavens.”
Quinn’s body quivered with tension, and his cobras swayed overhead, their hoods flared while they stayed eerily silent.
“She is beautiful, but she’s mine. You hurt her.
You scared her.” The tip of his tail twitched.
“You frightened her. You destroyed her home. You threatened her neighbors. You threatened her friends.”
With a snort and wave of her hand, Audrey dismissed his words.
“Those worthy will become like us. The rest will die. They are of no concern to me. You’ve become beautiful, you know.
Those black wings. Those glorious snakes.
So lovely. Had I known you would turn into such a prize, I would have come for you sooner. ”
I wondered if Audrey realized she was signing her own death warrant, and the grim reaper stood in front of her. Probably not.
“You killed your brother because he wanted to remain a human.”
And she had left him the way I had found her in Central Park with her college stud.
The pleasant tone of Quinn’s voice set me on edge. I clenched my teeth. He sounded like he spoke to an old friend—or worse, someone he loved but was disappointed in.
“He mocked me. He insulted me.” Audrey’s voice rose in pitch, and her snakes hissed.
“He told me I wanted a good-for-nothing washout. I considered petrifying him, but that would have been too easy. No, I made him regret his choice. He’d already outlived his usefulness, anyway.
Yes, I killed him. Did you like how I left his body for you to find? ”
“He had better technique.”
My eyes widened. Wow. And Quinn called me mouthy. “That was so catty,” I whispered to his grandfather.
“And rather below the belt,” he agreed.
“You’ll regret that, Samuel.”
“No, I won’t.” Quinn nodded towards a corner of the room, and I realized there was a young child hiding in the corner, as far away from the statues and the nest as she could get. She wore rags, dirty, torn rags that barely covered her.
I balled my hands into fists, clacked my teeth together, and waited, my fury burning through me until nothing else remained.
“Is the whelp yours?”
Audrey snorted. “Of course not. I wouldn’t produce such—”
Quinn darted forward, and my grandfather-in-law covered my eyes with a hand. “I don’t think you need to see this part.”
Audrey screamed, the shrill cry of a dying animal, and the crack of bone cut the sound off. Okay. I could deal with broken statues and piles of ashes that’d once been people. Wet crunches, however, went right over the line into the realm of the stomach churning. “That sounds gross.”
With a sigh, Quinn’s grandfather adjusted his hand over my eyes, and a moment later, he stroked his hand over my hair, the gesture oddly comforting.
“It is. Killing a gorgon can be done in many ways. He’s making sure Audrey and her sisters don’t return—and that their bodies can’t be used to create more dust.”
Something tore, and I shuddered. “That’s good.”
“It is. Bear with it a little longer. It’ll be over soon. Ah, that’s promising. The little whelp is crying, but she’s clapping her hands. Good.”
“I fail to see how that’s a good thing.”
“She celebrates. Perhaps she is the prince’s whelp? Or stolen. She’s not of their blood or hive; had she been, she would only cry. She’s happy, as are her snakes.”
Crunch.
“Do I want to know what he’s doing?”
“No.”
Oh boy. I gulped. “What about the other gorgons in the nest?”
“They’re in torpor. They won’t feel a thing.”
“What is torpor?” Maybe if I talked about something—anything—else, I could ignore the sounds.
“Are you sure you’re certified to handle gorgon affairs?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I may have slept during the biology and sociology courses. It was a guaranteed pass. I sometimes did homework for other classes during it. Sorry. I wasn’t expecting to actually need it.”
Quinn’s grandfather chuckled. “I suppose I can’t blame you for that.
Newly mated females will often hibernate while nesting.
They curl around their eggs and sleep while the eggs grow, preparing for when they need to care for the young after they hatch.
It is the responsibility of the male or hive sisters to care for the females in torpor.
Torpor helps elevate a female’s body to a suitable temperature for incubating the eggs.
Outside of torpor, gorgon females have a body temperature about twenty degrees below humans.
During torpor, their temperature is closer to a human’s. ”
That explained why Quinn worried about having someone hold the eggs. I didn’t need a biology degree to understand how eggs required a certain temperature to remain viable.
“Are there eggs?”
“Certainly. Living ones, however, is a different matter. Audrey isn’t the nurturing kind, and I expect her hive sisters starved while nesting. After two weeks without feeding, a female in torpor will cool too much for the eggs to remain viable.”
I clenched my teeth so tightly my jaw ached. “You think if there are eggs, they’re dead, don’t you?”
“Very likely. Quinn understands it’s unlikely there are surviving eggs.
He’s quite displeased. We’ll find out soon enough.
He’s almost finished. Ah, no, little Samuel.
Take their bodies away from the nest before you petrify the remains.
Don’t get too excited.” My grandfather-in-law chuckled.
“Now that’s adorable. The little whelp’s helping, and she’s almost as enthusiastic as little Samuel. Do be careful of the eggs, children.”
I decided I really didn’t want to know.
It felt like an eternity had passed before my grandfather-in-law uncovered my eyes. Of the female gorgons, I saw no sign. “What happened to them?”
The former gorgon king pointed at a far corner of the room. “He buried their petrified remains within the walls so they can’t be used by someone else to create dust. He’s a very thorough child.”
The young whelp hopped along at Quinn’s heels, flailing her too thin arms. The pair halted at the nest.
“Any viable eggs, little Samuel?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come release your bride. She can help us look for any survivors, then she can help reverse the surrogates’ petrification.”
Quinn scowled and lashed his tail from side to side.
“She’s hardly going to get into any trouble here.”
“Someone’s going to be in a lot of trouble if you don’t let me loose!”
His cobras hissed at me and flared their hoods. I hissed back.
“Samuel Leviticus Quinn, unseal your bride this instant.”