Cursing Fate Teaser
Another note to self: find a curse to absorb that gives me wings as soon as I figure out how to purify and filter curses.
And speaking of curses… She felt one nearby. It pulled at her, demanding she find and free it from its housing. Ker had never had a curse talk to her before. If it can talk, I should probably leave it alone, she thought. Her inner gate would have no part of her decision, however. It crashed open with a painful snap. Ker gasped, surprised…and scared. She was losing control of her body.
Her head turned, and like a bloodhound, she sniffed out the cursed creature.
Oh, no! Don’t make me take that one! She begged her body silently.
It was a gorgon; one of Medusa’s sisters judging by the type of serpents she bore in place of hair. Poisonous vipers struck at those mortals foolish enough to stand too close. Spears glanced off the serpentine woman’s scaly green armor. Some mortals ignorant of gorgons actually met the beast’s gaze—and slowly, torturously, became stone. The gorgon ripped her other victims apart and feasted on their blood.
Ker fought her own body as it strode into the fray. This creature didn’t have any abilities she wanted. Against her will, she met the snake-woman’s gaze. She felt her body begin to stiffen, but she was beyond fear now. She saw the creature’s soul, but instead of taking a single ability that had been cursed, the gate inside Ker was sucking everything inside. The gorgon fell to the bloody ground—dead.
Ker stumbled back from the body, her mind in turmoil. Her body changed, scaly armor rippled across her skin as serpents grew atop her head. She kept her eyes closed for fear of killing one of her sisters. Then, a terrible hunger gnawed at her empty belly. Blood, she needed blood. Lots of it…all of it!
She smelled salt, sweat, and dirt. A mortal; full of blood. Perfect. She gripped the mortal and tore him open with brute strength. Then, she bent her head to the still-warm body and drank.
Mending Fate teaser:
“What’s your name?”
She looked up from the drink she was pouring, analyzing the owner of the voice critically. The voice had been deep and rich, totally at odds with its owner. He was tall, of the golden boy image: the high school jock that everyone loves, but is usually the biggest wimp known to man. On the danger meter, he rated “Harmless.”
“I asked you what your name is,” he growled, grabbing her wrist when she didn't respond. Beer sloshed from the mug she held as he ground her bones together. New estimate: “Harmless to immortals.”
Just as she was about to send electricity down her arm to zap the boy, rough hands landed on his shoulders and jerked him away from the bar. She couldn’t really see who her “rescuer” was through the crowd, but she knew that he would be back. Human men usually wanted females to acknowledge their prowess in protecting the “weaker sex.” She shrugged, unworried. This happened sometimes. It didn’t bother her anymore. She continued to take orders and flirt with the customers as the situation warranted.
“Are you all right?” The voice was deep, rather rough, and made her jerk hard enough to slosh cold beer down her front. She didn’t turn, hoping, and praying to all the Gods of all the Pantheons she knew that the person behind her wasn’t whom she thought it was… that it wasn’t him.
“Atty?” The voice deepened further with his concern. Slowly, she turned…and stared into the hunter green eyes of the man she hated. The stupid part was that her heart actually stopped beating for a moment when her eyes caught on his tall, muscled physique. He wore a glamour so the humans couldn’t see his antlers, but he was still gorgeous. Danger meter rating: “Get the hell outta there! Fast!”
She couldn’t, of course. That would show weakness, as if he had power over her. No, this was her place, her job. She would not be chased away from it by some sun-loving, lying, gorgeous, dastardly, lily-sniffing, sexy, innocence-stealing bastard! She noticed that the glasses on the shelves above her were shaking slightly, so she took a deep breath to calm herself. She didn’t need to cause another disaster because of this man. She really didn’t.
“What do you want, Phaunos?” Her voice and face were carefully blank; she made sure by glancing sideways at the mirror behind the bar. No way in hell was she going to give this rainbow-bright dew-sucker a single emotion to prey on.
Shaping Fate teaser:
“It’s you.” Her amazing eyes widened incredulously as she examined him.
“You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” he replied irritably. Annoyed at his reaction to her, he wrapped his wings tightly about himself.
“Oh, not really. I don’t know your name, only your face. I’ve seen you in dreams, and I just finished making a statue of you.” Her voice was low and melodious, making him think of balmy nights and black silk sheets.
Then her words penetrated his lust-fogged brain. “You made a statue of me?” he asked, startled. Other than ancient reliefs hidden in the bowels of Greek temples, no one had ever made a statue of him. Helios never cast his light on Death.
“Yes. I’d just finished it when that man appeared out of nowhere.” Her eyes grew dark and troubled.
“What man? Where did he appear?” Finally, some answers; soon he could get rid of her. He didn’t like how he reacted to her. He watched her face intently, analyzing her reactions as they spoke. He wanted to know if she lied to him.
“The man who hurt me,” her normally low, smooth-as-honey voice became raspy at the memory of her beating, “He appeared on the island I live on.”
“Then you have family waiting for you. Tell me what the man looks like and I’ll take you back to them.” He forced his wings to tighten around him even more as he ignored the hard wrenching of his heart at the idea of her leaving, and its rejoicing at her next words.
“No. I don’t have a family. I’ve lived alone on the island for all two-thousand cycles of my life." She said.
Her words confused him. Cycles? What does she...Oh! Seasons occur in cycles. Each cycle of the seasons equals a year, so two-thousand cycles is equivalent to two-thousand years. His realization stunned him. This mortal is two-thousand years old? Not a mortal after all, she's an immortal!