Your face settled into a deep scowl. “Of course not, but if it was a choice between that or having you enslaved, I’d choose the former.”
“A forced marriage is just another form of enslavement.” I’d never allow myself to be subjugated again—not by a master or a spouse. Unless it was someone of my own choosing. Unless it was you. “Our tribal customs are so outdated and ridiculous. Practically medieval. Can’t we make agreements without signing them in semen and blood?”
You snorted a laugh. “We’re an ancient race, Vincent. Things change slowly.”
How would I navigate this political minefield when I’d only been alive two decades? And without my powers? “There’s still so much I don’t know,” I said in frustration.
“But you’re learning,” you said as encouragement. “And you’re not alone in this.”
“They’re going to see me as some dumb teenager,” I said fatally.
You pushed back the sweaty hair that had fallen in my face. “Many successful revolutions have been led by individuals even younger than you. What you might not have in longevity, you make up for in conviction. You’re not mired down by past betrayals and power grabs. You have the ability to see clearly what’s wrong and how it might be righted. Don’t discount your contributions just because of your age.”
I ruminated on your words, thinking how I could barely handle one Grigori—my own mother—much less the others.
“Mater isn’t going to want to give up control, is she?”
“No,” you said without any hesitation. “And there may come a time when you need to align yourself with a force more powerful than her. For your own protection.”
Your jaw tensed. Neither of us wanted to face that reality. Your gaze drifted to where Lucian and Mater were strolling along the terraced hills, deep in conversation. Lucian was taking notes on a clipboard. They could be discussing dinner plans or murder—possibly both.
“Did Mater ever tell you what happened to Medusa after Perseus beheaded her?” you asked. I couldn’t recall it. Medusa’s story seemed to end with that incident, while Perseus continued to gain fame and glory for his crime.
“It was a clean cut,” you said, “and after Perseus paraded her head throughout antiquity, he made an offering of it to Athena, who later returned it to the Gorgons. Eventually, Medusa recovered her bodily vessel, but it was said that she was never quite the same. She became a severe recluse, paranoid about letting another assassin into her bed, until she abandoned the earthen realm altogether. Her worshippers diminished over the years, and she was portrayed in stories as a bloodsucking monster. And we bloodborn, deserving or not, have inherited her reputation, not only with the Order of Angels, but among our own Grigori and Nephilim brethren as well.”
“Are you saying we’re born bad?” I asked.
“No, but our tribe has some behaviors that the others might find unsavory. Our bloodlust and propensity to seek revenge against those who have trespassed against us are among the more offensive. Also, betrayal. Lena has made many enemies in her long lifetime.”
“You’re saying it’s going to be an uphill battle when it comes to gaining the other tribes’ trust?”
You nodded. “That’s why we must be careful who we invite into our confidence. Because Medusa, the consummate seductress, was caught off-guard by Perseus’ charms, and it took only a moment of blind faith for one intrepid demi-god to bring about her demise.”
I considered your warning, taking it more literally than I probably should. There was a lot of beheading in our family tree.
“What happens if we’re decapitated?”
“When the body is severed from the head, it confuses the spirit. Rather than fleeing our natural bodies, the spirit becomes trapped. It’s an effective way to deal with meddlesome demons, as it prevents them from possessing another form.”
“Sounds like a terrible way to die,” I mused, “but much quicker than starvation.”
You gave me a curious look. “It is not the most pleasant.” You traced a scratch Anika had given me just above my collarbone, one that had not yet healed. “So, let’s try keeping our heads, shall we?”
“Leo et patientia,” I said, repeating the words you’d once told me.
“That’s right, Vincent. Timing and patience.”
We werein Mater’s library a few nights later when the queen herself approached me with Spooky’s hiss alerting me to her presence.
“Vincent,” Mater purred and the hairs on the back of my neck raised. I was wary of her seduction, but I’d practiced how to resist both your compulsion and Lucian’s power of suggestion. I’d learn to repel hers as well.
I glanced over to where you snored softly. I’d been poring over Mater’s texts for hours, trying to uncover the secrets of the sunborn. Rather than leave me here alone, you’d simply settled into a chair for a nap. The book you’d been reading was still lying open on your lap.
“Let him sleep,” Mater said. Since her return, you’d made sure we were never alone together. Always able to reach me at a moment’s notice. I felt safer with you nearby, but for now, I decided to go along with her suggestion. Not because I trusted her, but because I wanted her to trust me.
“What do you want?” I said warily.
“My darling, I just came to see how you were faring. I know this is a big change for you.”
