Stone Passions Trilogy (74 page)

Jeremy cleared his throat as Armand’s hand slid up the front of Melanie’s shirt, capturing her generous breast in his palm. With an annoyed glance, Armand lowered his hand back to her waist, pulling her harder against his body. It was quite the display and if Jenna weren’t so uncomfortable she’d be taking notes.

Melanie caught her eye and blushed furiously, “Armand is incorrigible.”

The elevator came to a stop and by some miracle Armand pulled himself away from Melanie and straightened his hair, an oddly nervous gesture Jenna wouldn’t expect from the gorgeous man. With eyes only for his lover, he held his hand out, “Ready?”

“No,” Melanie answered honestly with a light laugh as she slid her hand into Armand’s. Smoothing her other hand down over the front of her tight dress, she followed him out into the entryway of an exquisitely decorated penthouse suite.

“Welcome to your new home, love,” Armand said, holding his arm out to encompass the suite. “Come, meet my brothers.”

Jenna and her brood followed behind, a little intimidated by the display of wealth. Exchanging a wry smile with Jeremy, she held onto J.J.’s hand as they wound their way through the lushly decorated interior.

Two men appeared, both as gorgeous as Armand, though one had golden hair that hung to his shoulders and the other had auburn hair that hung to his waist. With a slight gasp, Jenna realized she knew the auburn-haired man. Before she could think, she rasped, “Rhys.”

His head jerked around and she found herself staring into chocolate brown eyes that she knew. She could almost imagine having his hands on her body, his chest crushing her breasts as he moved within her, the slickness of his skin as he brought her to orgasm….

But of course she didn’t know him and with an uneasy laugh, she tore her eyes away from the familiar stranger and saw Melanie’s eyes widen as they clashed with a pair of golden eyes and Jenna knew that the golden haired man was named Vaughn. The sense of déjà vu was so strong she pressed her hand against her stomach to calm the frightened butterflies that were clamoring for an explanation. How could she know Rhys? How could she know what it would be like to make love to him when she had never even looked at any other man?

Her gaze moved to Melanie who seemed to be in a trance as she stared at Vaughn, their souls recognizing one another. Time froze and Jenna was able to see everything so clearly: the moment Armand saw the attraction between Melanie and Vaughn, the fury on his face, the helpless lust on Melanie’s.

Turning, Jenna saw the longing in Rhys’s eyes as he appeared to want to consume her from across the room Turning again she saw Jeremy with sweet, little Lanie in his arms, her thumb in her mouth and her head on his shoulder as she watched the scene with wide, blue eyes. J.J. stood next to his father, his hand in Jeremy’s larger hand. As she felt her perfect world crumbling beneath her feet, Jenna realized someone important was missing: Ferris.

Frantically, she scanned the room, looking for her first born child, the child who didn’t exist in this reality. And she knew that everything was wrong, this wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Clutching the front of her chest, she collapsed to her knees, desperately trying to fill her lungs with air. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was all wrong.

Chapter 17

Rhys looked at his mother as she lounged on the chaise and plucked a large, purple grape from the platter of fruit, unconcerned with the sleeping girl in the middle of her large, extravagant bed. Though she was ancient she looked like she was barely legal, with smooth ivory skin that bore no blemishes or wrinkles and a perfect, feminine body. Her dark, chestnut hair hung to her slender waist in a riot of curls, barely concealing the diaphanous gown that concealed nothing. Her dark eyes were solemn as they watched her son. “I’ve never had a female ensnared before. I am sorry that she is yours.”

Rhys blinked, his eyes dry from worry and his lack of sleep. As a gargoyle he didn't require much sleep but he did need some. It had been almost a week since Jenna fell into one of the enchantments that held his poor mother’s companions hostage. He had honestly believed that if Jenna had only held on until they found his mother that she would be safe. Omari certainly hadn’t indicated otherwise. “What will happen to her?”

His mother was silent as she slowly chewed the grape. After what seemed an eternity, she sighed, “She will experience an alternate reality that is based on an event or a choice that was made in her past. It could be something as insignificant as turning right when she usually turned left or something momentous and quite different all together.”

“Mother….”

She shrugged her shoulders in an elegant, insouciant gesture, “Truly, I do not understand how the trap works, which event of significance is chosen. I have lived here for thousands of years, my entire life really, but the workings of these snares,” she waved her hand in the general direction of Jenna. “Are beyond my comprehension. The Fates control them, not I.”

“But you know what they are,” he ground out.

“Of course,” she acknowledged. “I have had conversations with the Fates but they hold their deepest secrets close. They have only told me enough so that I may… take advantage of the traps to suit my needs and take advantage of the bodies left behind.

Rhys ground his teeth together, not wanting to hear yet again about his mother’s companions. As indescribably beautiful as his mother was, she was cursed with an equally powerful need for sex. The Fates were kind to her, sending many weary travelers her way throughout the years. Once ensnared, a man could last a decade for his mother, producing the vile little imps that plagued his life. “Mother.”

She chuckled at his squeamishness, stretching as languorously as a feline, a smug, self-satisfied grin curling her full lips. “Darling, your father was here recently. I have a reprieve until Michael reaches his tenth birthday, which is in a few weeks.”

“And where are my newest brothers? They have been awfully quiet,” he said through clenched teeth. Anything was better than talking about or thinking about his mother’s sex life.

“They are playing with the imps,” she said with that complacent smile. When he stiffened, she laughed, “Don’t worry, my darling boy. The imps are wonderful with children, it’s only when my babies get older do they develop their less than savory behaviors. Plus, they feel just awful about what happened to Melanie so they are trying to behave.

“They’ll resort to their true nature soon enough.”

“True,” she agreed with a lazy smile. Her eyes brightened as she sat forward and took Rhys’s hand in her own. “So tell me, is it true that there is a human that can be in your father’s presence and not faint dead away?”

“Yes.” His answer was terse but his father was another topic he did not wish to discuss with her. It inevitably led to longing sighs and a detailed trip down memory lane.

She sighed and he nearly groaned. “I am so happy for him. He has longed for this day for as long as I have known him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rhys shook his head, not knowing why he was still talking about his father. But there was nothing he could do for Jenna until she woke up.
If
she woke up. “Melanie belongs to Vaughn and Father wouldn’t be so cruel as to taste that which is not his.”

His mother laughed gleefully, clapping her hands together in delight at Rhys’s naiveté. “If he thought he could get away with it he would. You know your father.”

Rhys exhaled slowly; yeah, he knew his father. Glancing at Jenna, he sighed, “Jenna can be in his presence, too.”

“How delightful,” she purred. “Perhaps her alternate reality will involve your father and he will finally have his human.”

Rhys shuddered at the thought, “Gods, I hope not.”

Medusa just laughed. “Poor Rousseau.”

He grimaced but it was impossible to stay mad in his mother’s presence, not with her infectious laughter and Devil-may-care attitude. After a long silence, Rhys swallowed, “What happens if she chooses that life, the one she is dreaming about now?”

Sorrow filled his mother’s eyes as she held his gaze, “Then she will be lost to you, at least in this life.”

Rhys squeezed his eyes shut in despair, unable to bear the thought of losing her so soon after finding her. Of losing her at all. Hadn’t he just told her that he would survive if she didn’t choose him? He hadn’t realized he had been lying because he had thought he would have a few years to convince her to change her mind. He had never thought the choice to become a gargoyle might never be given.

Medusa's full lips curved upwards in a wicked smile, the mischievous glint back in her dark eyes, “Do you know what your father did to poor Melanie?”

Rhys stared at his mother in bemusement, “He gave her your blood.”

“Mixed with his,” she added. Rhys sucked in an appalled breath. That concoction should have killed her…. His mother wasn’t outraged – she was laughing, laughing so hard she was holding her stomach as tears of mirth fell from her eyes. “But that’s not the funny part. He convinced her that the only way to get Vaughn back was to fuck him as a gargoyle.”

Rhys’s lips parted in even greater shock. Medusa was crying with laughter, “The foolish, love-struck girl believed him! The poor girl was desperate, though, and did it. If she had waited just a few more minutes Vaughn would have been restored with her having to fuck him,” she whooped as she wiped the tears from her eyes, absolutely delighted by his father’s perverse humor. “Can you imagine?”

Rhys felt the heat in his cheeks, easily imagining such a scenario. The pleasure would be exquisite – for the gargoyle. His eyes drifted over to Jenna who lay as still as the dead and he let out a long, frustrated breath. In the end, it might not even matter. He would lose her and all of his platitudes about moving on were going to come back and bite him in the ass because he would never have met her.

After she stopped laughing, she rested with her hand against her stomach, watching Rhys with absolute love in her eyes. The mirth faded from when he didn’t join in her amusement. Her eyes moved over her face and her lips parted in wonder, “You love her.”

It wasn’t a question but he answered it anyway, “Yes, very much.”

Suddenly serious, she asked softly, “Do you not find it odd that both you and your brother have found love in such a short period of time?”

He gaped at his mother. She was watching him closely, a stillness about her that he very rarely saw. “I hadn’t given it much thought, why?”

“It’s just strange, that’s all.” She looked away, gazing unseeing at the beautiful sea, the stars and a half moon reflecting upon the dark water. Her voice was soft, distant, as she murmured, “Everything is changing, Rousseau, I can feel it in my bones.”

“What do you mean?” His stomach clenched in fear as his mother continued to stare out at the sea, a melancholy expression on her beautiful face.

“The barriers between the worlds are fading,” she said softly, her attention on the silver moonlight. “Your roles as Guardian are… evolving. You will no longer need to hide and soon I will be free.”

She turned to him and offered a sad, tired smile, “My time on this wretched planet is coming to an end, Rousseau. I’m finally going to be able to go home. I will see my sisters and I have missed them so much these great many years.”

“Mother,” he breathed, the sound barely making it past his dry lips. Crossing the room to kneel next to the chaise, he took her delicate hand in his, “Mother.”

She drew her slender fingers along his jaw before cupping his cheek in her hand, “Don’t begrudge me this, Rousseau. I have longed for this day and it will be here soon. And if your beloved Jenna wakes I shall give her my blood. She will take enough to prolong her life but not enough to kill her. It will not stop her from aging but it will slow it down significantly so she will have more time to realize she is meant to be with you, my son.”

Jenna opened her eyes and found herself standing in the middle of a simply adorned cathedral, the diffused light giving it a dream-like quality. The walls of the cathedral seemed to be organic, a part of nature and made up of trees and vines and flowers. The ground was a bed of soft, mossy grass and the ceiling was the evening sky.