Stone Destiny (Stone Passion #3) (37 page)

“But he dreamed of me,” she whispered in awe, remembering her brief time in Armand’s head. He had been drawn to Melanie because she looked like the girl he dreamed about
, she looked like Ferris… at least, close enough to his dream version to count.

“Yes,” Fray said simply. “His unconscious mind remembered you.”

She simply nodded in wonder because he had fallen in love with her. A smile tilted her lips at the hope that bubbled up in her chest. He fell in love with her, with Ferris, not Katrina. If she could get back to her own time she would break down the walls that surrounded his heart and make him realize it was her he loved, that it had always been her. If he insisted on being difficult then she was going to have to do the most painful thing in her life: she was going to have to let him go.

“Omari, you old wizard!” she cried out, standing up with a renewed surge of energy at having one last battle. Of course, it wasn’t going to be easy – it was Armand after all – but it was worth it. He was worth it. After everything was said and done at least she would be
able to say she gave it her all and she would have no regrets no matter what happened in the future. “Or Apollo or whatever you call yourself in this time. I need you!”

Straightening her shoulders and holding her head up because it would be unwise to show any weakness before
a much more powerful and ancient god, Ferris cried out again, "Omari! Do you hear me?”

What if Omari didn’t come? What if she was stuck in this time, with no friends, no family,
no home? She would have to find a pack of supernatural creatures that were willing to let her tag along or she would have to become a hermit. The only consolation was the fact that her children wouldn’t miss her because she was in the past. She’d return five hundred years older but no time would have passed back home. What if she went mad and forgot Gavin and Gwendolyn? Desperation cracked her voice as she cried out, “Omari!!”

“What is it?” a deceptively calm, masculine voice said from behind her. Spinning around she saw the old wizard standing there, a guarded expression on his old, craggy face. His body was buried in yards and yards of silk robes and he looked every inch the powerful wizard she knew. For an instant she wanted to cross the distance between them and throw her arms around the familiar man but she held herself back because this Omari didn’t know her yet and because he was very powerful he might think she was attacking him and turn her into a toad.

Now that would be a fitting end to her story.

She took a breath to give her a moment to figure out an explanation but nothing she came up with would work. How do you tell a god that you share a history that he hasn’t share
d with you yet? “It might be easier if you’re in your true form, Apollo.”

Staring at him with a look of encouragement, she watched as he closed his eyes and let the
illusion of age fall away. The white hair remained but it was no longer snow white but platinum blond, hanging to his waist in thick ropes of blond. His hazel eyes burned with inner light and power and his face was carved by the angels, perfect and blindingly beautiful. The line of his jaw was a thing of beauty, his cheekbones made angels weep, his lips were so damn erotic and she had the strangest urge to touch them and see if they were as firm and silky as they looked.

The bulky robes disappeared as well until only a pair of silk pantaloons covered him from the waist to mid-thigh. Sleek muscles lovingly wrapped around his body, the sinewy cords flexing beneath golden skin. She had seen him as the ancient Omari and the eminently gorgeous
Marick but she had never seen his true form before. She had to admit that Apollo was breathtaking.

Slowly, cautiously, he approached her, a slight scowl doing nothing to mar his beautiful face. Closing his eyes, he moved his head in an arc, breathing in deeply. After a moment, he looked at her with curiosity, “You have the scent of humanity about you but you’re no longer human.”

She shook her head in agreement, watching him with wide eyes, a blade of unease twisting in her belly for it wasn’t wise to call out the gods. “I’m not.”

He crept closer, slowly reaching out towards her but not touching her while she held herself very still.
Cocking his head to the side, his interest in her deepened, “We were lovers but I have no memory of this… why?”

“You’re in my past,” she explained,
caution making her words come out slow and a little thick. “I’m in your future.”

He nodded his head as if her explanation was completely rational. Crossing his arms across his muscled chest, he asked, “Were we lovers before or after you were human?”

“While I was human,” she answered, her cheeks burning with red fire.

His eyes darkened as he looked at her, probing into the depths of her soul. It was a struggl
e to remain still and not squirm beneath his penetrating gaze but he was a man she loved as a friend once and he was the father of her children. Suddenly his hand shot out and he wrapped his long fingers around her throat, squeezing with just enough pressure to let her know it wouldn’t take much for him to rip her head off. The heat of his skin scorched her, reminding her he was Apollo. Tears smarted in her eyes because she hadn’t actually believed he might cause her harm.

But, no, he wasn’t choking her, he was simply examining her, tilting her head from side to side, his eyes never leaving her face. His thumb brushed over her lower lip as he rasped, “You’re very beautiful.”

“Th… thank you,” she murmured carefully, searching his hazel eyes for a glimpse of the Omari or Marick she had loved. The man, no, the god, standing in front of her with his fingers wrapped around her throat was emotionally guarded and isolated. She would say lonely but she didn’t think Apollo would appreciate the sentiment.

“I have been… resting on Mount Olympus for many years,” he murmured, almost to himself. With a slight smile, he added,
"Except for the years I get to spend with my Beloved.”

“Medusa,” she whispered, regretting the word as soon as Apollo’s eyes flared with anger and betrayal, as his grip on her throat tightened. Clawing at his wrist, trying to break his chokehold she quickly added, “I know this because I’m in love with your son
. I’m in love with Armand.”

His grip relaxed some but he didn’t pry his fingers from her neck. The curiosity was back in his expression as he studied her once more. Eventually, his brow pulled together and he let out a little sigh of vexation, “Damn it
! I cannot read your mind.”

Her eyes widened, “Of course not
! The blood running through my veins wouldn’t allow for such an invasion.”

He almost smiled at that but carefully kept his expression neutral. Licking her lips and holding his eyes, she murmured, “I am willing to… exchange blood, if you think it will help.”

Before the words were completely out of her mouth, a large, wicked looking blade appeared and he had let her neck go in order to grab her wrist. Holding her eyes, he sliced her palm open, ignoring her gasp of pain. With more care, he barely nicked his own palm and pressed it against her gaping wound.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, pouring everything into his puny wound, watching as his eyes widened in bewilderment and then understanding. When she reached the end of her story so far, she jerked her hand from his wrist and closed up the wound, wiping the wet blood that stained her hand on the silk of his pantaloons. When he arched his brow at her behavior, she snorted, “You’re the asshole who cut far deeper than necessary.”

He chuckled, the warm laugh familiar and comforting.
This
was the man she had known, not the merciless automaton who thought nothing of slicing her hand to the bone. "Why didn’t you use your powers to prevent me from cutting so deep?"

Holding his eyes, she softly answered, "I had no desire to fight you and if I had hesitated you would have walked away."

"You choose to hide your true nature. Fascinating." He studied her for a moment, curiosity in his hazel eyes. “I take it from your memories that you wish to return Armand from his frozen state.”

She shook her head no, “This isn’t my
life, Oma… I mean Apollo. I need to return to my time and I was hoping you might be able to send me back to my present.”

“Time is fluid and the future is not set in stone,” he said, sympathy swimming in his hazel eyes. “I cannot send you back because
there are a million possible futures and only one that is yours.”

Ferris’s shoulders slumped as a crushing wave of defeat crashed over her. Damn it
! She was going to have to suck up nearly five hundred years of living underground….

Apollo’s warm laughter shook her out of her melancholy. “Fear not, my love
, you will have to spend some time underground but not nearly as long as you think. Besides, I can’t have you mucking up this time line, not since I finally get my human.”

She looked up at him, almost afraid to hope. “What can you do?”

His smile should have worried her and would have had she not known him so well. “What I have planned for you is similar to the faerie realm where you spent so much time but in reverse.”

Ferris’s grin almost hurt her face, “So, how much time are we talking about? A hundred years?
Two hundred?”

“Well, it really depends,” he said carefully, his eyes dancing. “If you want to interact with people, well, faeries, we can go the two hundred year route. However, if you’re anxious to get back home... a year and some change.”

Ferris’s jaw hit the floor, “What’s the downside?”

“You’ll be in a time bubble,” he explained, watching her expression closely. “You’ll have everything you could possibly want except interaction with other people, human or otherwise. Well, you’ll have Fray.”

“I’ll do it,” she said without hesitation, without having to debate the pros and cons of either option. “I want to get home as quickly as possible.”

He chuckled, “Yes, I imagine
you would.”

She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face and was unprepared for when Apollo closed the distance between them and took her into his arms. Heat from his body slammed into her and she almost swooned, which made her want to smack herself across the back of her head. His mouth covered hers and she did swoon a bit.
He kissed with incredible skill, teasing her lips apart before expertly using his tongue to tempt her into a deeper kiss.

Breathing harshly, he pried his lips away from her and rested his forehead against hers, “Good luck, Ferris. I’ll be biding my time until you come back into my life and I promise not to give your secret away, not to anyone. No one will know we’ve met before
, that you set all of this in motion. They will think it was a quirk of fate but we’ll know the truth.”

He stepped back and a wavy wall separated them and then he was gone.

Turning, she saw the luxurious interior of the bubble she was going to be spending the next few months in, a cornucopia of delight for all of the senses. Floor to ceiling bookcases filled with every book she would want to read, a stereo system with all of the music she loved, colorful pillows spread across the floor, on the plush couches. Off to the right was a luxurious open bath with a massive claw foot tub. Natural light flooded the room from the skylights overhead and the massive windows interspersed with the bookcases. Heavy curtains were pulled to the side and tied off but she could imagine the complete darkness that would envelop the room if they were closed.

Her art supplies were stacked up against one of the walls, ready and waiting for her for when she wished to pain
t. There was no kitchen but there was a note instructing her to wish for whatever she desired and it would appear. With a grin, she wished for a banana split and then laughed in delight when it appeared.

Grabbing the dessert, she wandered over to the door, wondering what kind of world she was going to be spending the next year and a half
in. Pulling the heavy door open, her breath caught in her throat as she saw the gorgeous garden that surrounded her fantasy room. Setting the ice cream down, she glided through the door and into the open air.

The sun caressed her skin with its warmth a
nd a gentle breeze lifted the strands of her hair. The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine filled her nostrils as she looked around. She could see the rippling edges that marked the boundary of her bubble, making the world beyond a land of indistinct form and shadow. At the far end was a rectangular shape: the door. If she ever left the bubble she was going to have to be extremely careful not to disturb the plans already set in motion.

She just couldn’t imagine ever wanting to leave the bubble before she needed to
because in less than a year and a half she would be back home with her children, her family. With Armand.

There would be one last confrontation and then she would either be able to embrace her
destiny or finally turn her back on it.

Fray pried himself from her body and blinked at the surroundings. His deep voice rumbled through her as he murmured, “
This is perfect for us, Dragon-Mate."

Chapter 1
9
(The Roof)

The Truth is a Jagged Sword