Stone Passions Trilogy (118 page)

“I’ve never been a very attentive father,” Apollo murmured unexpectedly. Armand’s head jerked around at that admission but Apollo was still staring out over the city, that vague half-smile still curving his lips. “It might surprise you to know that I spent more time with you and your brothers than I did with any of my other children, with any of the other gargoyles.”

Apollo did turn his head at that, arching an eyebrow as he murmured softly, “You should thank Ferris for that.”

Armand scowled. He wasn’t able to thank Ferris for anything because she. Was. Missing. Besides, how could Ferris be responsible for Apollo being less of an asshole father unless…. His heart punched his ribs, “Did she come to you and tell you she’s given up on me? Is she… is she yours now?”

“She was never mine, Armand, even when I held her in my arms and fell in love with her.” Sorrow and lingering heartache darkened Apollo’s face and Armand actually pitied the man because he knew what it was like to love Ferris.

“I was coming after her,” Armand admitted softly. “As soon as she said goodbye, I realized I couldn’t live without her, and that was before I saw her paintings of me. She’s in my blood, father. Have you ever needed someone so desperately that you couldn't breathe without her?”

“Yes, twice: your mother and a girl I met once. Ferris,” Apollo laughed, turning his attention back to the oh-so-fascinating cityscape. His wry smile softened to a genuine smile and his eyes warmed as he murmured, “She brought me back to life, Armand. For a long time I simply existed on Mount Olympus, watching my power gradually fade away until only a pocketful of humans worshipped me. My only joy in life was the handful of years I was allowed to spend with your mother, with Medusa. Gods, I loved that woman but every moment I spent with her I lost a little bit more of myself. After you and your brothers were born I fell into the deepest, darkest despair I had ever known and I knew that my time was coming to an end.”

Strangely, it hurt listening to his father talk but, just as strange, Armand wanted to hear everything. Lost in his memories, unaware of the stiffness easing from Armand’s body, Apollo continued, “But suddenly this beautiful girl stormed through the walls I had built up and demanded my presence.” He chuckled to himself, “It was shortly after you were born, maybe fifty or sixty years? She never knew how close she came to being squashed like the bug I first believed her to be. Thank the stars I refrained from killing her before I actually listened to her.”

The stiffness returned with a vengeance at Apollo’s words, to the point Armand was sure his muscles were just going to break if he so much as blinked. Apollo must have heard the low growl that came from the back of his throat because his father abruptly stopped speaking and looked at Armand with wide, guileless eyes. “I didn’t kill her, son, I just said that it was my first impulse to do so, just the same for any other human demanding an audience with me.”

“Why didn’t you… kill her?” Armand asked in spite of his better judgment.

“She called for me by a name known only to a handful of people,” Apollo said with an easy shrug. “It was the name I used when I introduced myself to your mother all of those millennia ago, the name that is secret.”

“I… see,” Armand reluctantly conceded with a wry smile, imagining Ferris boldly and bravely facing a god. Only Ferris.

“She willingly shared her blood with me,” Apollo murmured, the awe still in his voice after all of this time. “It… changed me somehow, made me appreciative of the world around me. I mean, she was a goddess that retained her human sweetness and it was extraordinary. Plus, it renewed my hope of finally having a human.”

At that, Armand swung and punched his father in the face, taking no satisfaction in the look of shock Apollo gave him as his fist connected with Apollo’s chin. With a shrug, Armand shook out his hand, and muttered, “Go on.”

Working his jaw back and forth, Apollo eyed Armand warily before he scooted a few inches further down the ledge. Apollo’s eyes narrowed in thought for a moment before he straightened his spine and casually asked, “Do you ever wish things could have been different? That Katrina accepted your gift all of those years ago?”

Armand expected the dull ache that he associated with Katrina to fill his chest but there was no pain, only a quiet certainty that Katrina was not the woman meant for him. “I used to but I don’t anymore. I think I would have made her life miserable.”

Apollo’s smile was wide and knowing and Armand should have been weary but he was so tired of keeping everything to himself. Relaxing his shoulders, Armand softly admitted, “I think it was necessary for Ferris to come into my life as a child because she was a threat I never saw coming so I had no chance to guard my heart against her.”

“I think it would have been better for me, however, if she had waited until she was an adult,” Apollo said. At Armand’s scalding look, Apollo chuckled, “Of course, if that were the case then everything would be different and you would be stuck with a gargoyle mate more in love with your brother than with you.”

Armand arched an eyebrow and waited for an explanation but Apollo didn’t offer one. Apollo’s mercurial moods shifted once again as he became melancholy, “She really is something, isn’t she?”

“She’s everything,” Armand said passionately, his heart in his words. In the silence, he replayed their conversation in his head and realized what had been unspoken. Glancing at Apollo from the corner of his eye, his question came out as a statement, “Ferris went back in time.”

Apollo nodded once, “Yes.”

“You knew about her all of this time,” he said, stunned by the revelation. At Apollo’s second nod, he asked, “You acted as if you didn’t know Melanie and you were surprised that the potion you gave her didn’t kill her.”

Apollo gave a rueful shrug, “In some time lines it does kill her. But that’s not for you to worry about because in this time line it worked.”

“Where is Ferris now?” Armand asked, hoping his father couldn’t hear the doubts creeping into his voice.

“Perhaps the more appropriate question would be ‘
When
is she?’” Apollo’s smile was wicked as he glanced past Armand’s shoulders for a moment before he turned back to Armand. If possible, his grin became even more wicked.

Armand’s entire body flinched as he gaped at Apollo. “What? She’s still back there? Alone?”

“She went back in time to see what made you tick,” Apollo explained slowly, as if to an idiot. Armand’s heart staggered painfully in his chest as he glared at his father in silent accusation. Apollo chuckled, “I’m not the one who sent her back, son. Her little dragon is responsible for that all on his own.”

Armand shook his head in disbelief, “Fray isn’t strong enough….”

“He bonded with her when he was barely five,” Apollo gently reminded him with an arch of his arrogant eyebrow. “He spent twenty years in the land of Faerie, bonded to a girl that has the blood of gods running through her veins. He’s strong enough to take on time.”

The rest of Apollo’s words registered and Armand staggered backward from the implications, “What do you mean she went back to see what made me tick? What has she done?”

Apollo’s hazel eyes sparkled with mischief and Armand knew he wasn’t going to like the answer. “She’s the one you fell in love with when you were fool enough to believe you were in love with Katrina.”

His answer took all of the oxygen out of the room because Armand knew Ferris, knew her generous if foolish heart. He could feel the color drain from his face and he had to force the words past his dry lips, “She’ll change the past.”

Apollo gave a negligent shrug, “It’s a strong possibility.”

“Send me back,” Armand growled, desperate to get to her before she did something so selfless and stupid as to accept his gift on Katrina’s behalf. “Now.”

“There’s a cost to be paid, son.” Apollo swallowed thickly before meeting Armand’s eyes. With a slight curve of his lips, he asked, “What would you do to get her back?”

Anticipation burned in his veins as his pulse kicked up a notch. “Anything.”

“Even live through her time with me?” Apollo asked with that damnable half-smile, turmoil swirled in the depths of his hazel eyes.

Armand’s entire body rebelled at the thought of seeing Ferris with anyone else and it wanted to commit seppuku at the possibility of seeing her with his father. After several times of trying to reply only to find his vocal chords didn’t want to give the correct answer to the question, he rasped, “If that is what it takes.”

Apollo grinned in approval, and perhaps a smidge of pity, as he stood up and wiped the dust from his robes. When Armand just sat there, unable to get his body to obey his command to stand the fuck up, Apollo laughed. In mock sympathy, he asked, “Do you need a moment to prepare yourself for what you’re about to witness?”

“Now is fine,” he ground out. He’d never be prepared but he wanted Ferris back, no matter what. He figured it was like ripping his own arm off, best to get it over with all at once instead of trying to tear it off bit by bit. Armand’s molars were going to be ground to the bloody pulp before he got through this.

Apollo gave him a look of disbelief, arching his eyebrow but not saying anything. Armand glared back, wondering what his father was waiting for when he just wanted to get through this ordeal and have Ferris back in his arms. “What?”

“You’re going to have to stand up,” Apollo smirked.

Scowling, Armand tried to push himself to his feet but discovered he was numb from the neck down and his body absolutely refused to cooperate. Gritting his teeth together in determination, he pushed his rebellious body to its feet. His legs tried to buckle but he kept his knees locked in place. He remained standing through sheer force of will. “Now what?”

Apollo crossed his arms over his chest and eyed Armand critically. Pursing his lips, he said skeptically, “I don’t believe you’ll be able to handle it.”

Unfortunately, Apollo was right because Armand didn’t think he could handle it either. Ignoring the doubts that were beating against his head, his body, his soul, he bit out, “I’d go through Hell for her.”

“I almost believe you just might,” Apollo nodded thoughtfully. Narrowing his eyes, he looked at Armand with challenge, “What is your Hell, Armand?”

Armand was pretty sure acid just ate a hole through his gut. Grinding his teeth together, he bit out, “Seeing her with another man.”

A small, pitying smile curved Apollo’s lips and Armand swore he saw red. Roughly, he growled, “Let’s just get this over with.”

“All right,” Apollo murmured, holding his hand out for his son to take. Reluctantly, Armand put his palm on Apollo’s, scalding his skin in the process because his father was a creature of the day and Armand was still a creature of the night. “Essentially you will be a shadow, my shadow. You’ll see what I saw, hear what I heard, et cetera. It will be Hell, Armand. Are you sure you truly want this?”

“How many times do I have to say it?” Armand growled, the heat from his father spreading up his arm, burning the nerve endings along its path. “Yes, this is what I want.
Ferris
is what I want.”

“If at any time you want to change your mind all you have to do is say, ‘She’s yours, Apollo,’ or ‘I concede’ and it will be over,” Apollo said, giving him an out he knew he would never take. With a rueful chuckle, he added, “I hope you say the words.”

Armand’s face twisted into an expression of disgust at his father’s words. “Never, old man.”

Apollo heaved a lusty sigh, his shoulders slumped in mock defeat, “That’s what I figured, you stubborn gargoyle.”

Without another word, the air around them shifted and Armand found himself standing in an opulent bedroom, creams and gold the predominant colors. Gauzy fabric hung from the frame surrounding the bed, billowing outwards in the warm, gentle breeze. Glancing outside, he saw the fantastical world of the Fae and he knew that wherever he was it wasn’t earth. The colors were hazy, almost as they are in a dream, with tiny little pixies catching the sun, glinting like diamonds in the sky. He almost expected to see a bright and vivacious Ferris dancing in a field of wild flowers or painting one of her masterpieces.

What he didn’t expect to see was her looking so close to death. Her skin was nearly transparent, making her veins stick out in sharp contrast to her pale flesh. Her lips were white and drawn and her eyes were sunken, the dark color beneath looking like bruises. When she breathed her chest rattled, the sound terrifying for what it represented: Death.

“Ferris,” Armand whispered but it was Apollo’s voice. He wanted to gather her up in his arms, tell her he loved her, that he had always loved her, but the body he was in wasn’t his own. He had to remind himself that this was his father’s memory, this was Apollo’s memory. If he was silent he could hear his father’s thoughts, the helplessness he felt as he watched Ferris wither away.

She pried her eyes open and offered a tremulous smile, but he could see the effort it took in the white lines bracketing her pale lips, the flare of her chapped nostrils. “You needn’t look at me like that, Marick. I’m at peace no matter what happens.”

“Please let me help you,” Armand begged, but it was Apollo’s voice. Seeing her suffer he knew that he would give anything to make her whole again. Hell, he would beg her to have sex with Apollo if it meant she no longer suffered.

Her chuckle turned into a groan as her muscles tightened unnaturally and her back bowed from the strain of her spasms. Gasping, she focused her eyes on his, the pupils dilated until the turquoise was nearly swallowed up in a sea of black. “No sex, Marick."

“I’m going to make it easier for you to accept me.”

She started rambling, lost in an old memory and Apollo winced in despair because it was obvious her mind was slipping away even faster than her body. Her mindless rants were killing him, making him feel utterly powerless and for a god it was an awful feeling. Swallowing his pride, he finally figured out a way to make her accept him and everything he was offering her. He could only pray she would be able to forgive him once it was all over, assuming she survived, of course.