Huntress (8 page)

My back began to burn as I thought about getting my service to plant some fall flowers along the driveway and then discarded it as too labor intensive. I didn’t want to have to water them.  

I stopped paying attention to my screaming under-used muscles and focused on how Dylan had done on his test today. Should I get that tutor for him? Was it normal for kids his age to have so much difficulty with reading? Did I have Muenster cheese in the fridge? Today seemed like a great grilled cheese and tomato soup day.  How many days until Rose got home? 

I ran through my mental calendar and was relieved to discover that I only had 1 day to go. Was she going to think I was crazy?

I nodded. She was going to think that I was crazy but then she’d believe me anyway. That’s what best friends did. 

“Are you talking to yourself?” His words startled me out of my daydreaming and I blushed.

“Well, you’re not talking to me. I may as well entertain myself.”

“You’re not supposed to be talking or daydreaming. This is an exercise in getting to know your body Grace.”

I couldn’t help myself. I tried to be good. I tried so hard, but it slipped out. “I know my body pretty well thanks. I get to know it fairly intimately on a regular basis.”

I heard a choking sound but kept my eyes down. I could be brazen, but it was easier when I didn’t have to see the looks afterward.  I forced myself not to blush and sped up a little.

“I wasn’t talking about masturbation, Grace.”

Great, now my face was on fire.

“You need to become familiar with how your muscles work,” he continued patiently. “Once you know your limitations, you can work on pushing yourself harder. Your muscles haven’t been used in, well who knows how long and the sooner we get you ready for training, the better.  Things aren’t right in the Land of Oz and if Diana didn’t stress how shorthanded we are at the moment, she should have.  You got much longer out here in the world than most do.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, curious.

“Which part?”

I deepened my voice and parroted his words. “You got much longer out here in the world – yada yada yada.”

“Oh. Well, Guardians only breed when planes start shifting. It’s a signal for a – well a big change. Diana did it a little out of order and then decided that you would be different. She sent you off to foster with the hope that you would be given the opportunity to grow outside of the chaos we constantly live in.

“She hoped that you would develop your strengths and weaknesses without the pressure that we all face. Most Hunters are recalled at sixteen to start the physical and magical training that we all receive.”

“How long does training last?”

“We never stop training Grace. I’m nearly two thousand years old and I still train.”

I gaped at him. “You’re almost two thousand years old? You don’t look a day over 30. Don’t you age?”

“I can shift to look older, but my true form will never appear older than this. This is what my maturity looks like.”

Uncertainty filled my voice as a new worry hit me. “I am a terrible mother.” I stated with vehemence. “I can’t believe that I didn’t think about it before this. Is this going to happen to Dylan too? Is he never going to get old? Is someone going to come and snatch him before his junior year in high school to tell him he’s gotta fight the monsters?”

I’d stopped in my tracks at this point and could see him wince as my voice was getting louder. He walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. Looking into my eyes, he squeezed once and said, “No, Dylan won’t have to make that choice. He should grow old, have children and die a happy old man.”

“Will I live to be as old as you?” I gazed into his eyes, searching for the truth.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“I’m going to outlive my son?” I couldn’t bear the thought of living in a world without my child. I hadn’t considered this when I had accepted Diana’s offer. I put my hands on my hips and started pacing trying to work this out in my head.

“I don’t understand. He is my child - shouldn’t he be as long lived?”

“Grace, every Hero gets a choice. Their Hunter parent activates the DNA that changes the structure of their bodies, making them less human and more otherworldly. Persephone Saw that Dylan wouldn’t have to choose. That should put your mind at rest.”

A small, sad smile formed on my lips. “I don’t know how I’ll live without him in this world.” I said.

“You will have his children and their children to remind you. The pain of losing him will lessen over time. I promise.”

“Who is Persephone and how does she know this?” Forgive me for being skeptical, but this was my son we were talking about.

“She is another child of Alancea and her power is seeing into the future. She’s one of the reasons we knew that it was time to bring you in and start preparing you.”

Nodding distractedly, I pulled my phone out to check the time. “We should start back. He’ll be home soon and I could really use one of his hugs right now.”

“Sounds good. If you can make it back without bitching, I’ll make you something special for dinner.”

“Deal.” Not a word passed my lips the entire way back. Miracles did happen.

Explaining Drew hadn’t been as difficult as one would expect. While Dylan was a curious kid, he was pretty accepting. When he’d asked who the fancy model type was in the kitchen and I’d made up some story about assistant slash personal trainer slash au pair, he’d accepted it at face value and wandered off to finish homework.

It made me wonder if I’d ever been so easy going and accepting.

Later that night we were discussing Drew's new role in our lives.  Yes, Dylan still had to pick his own dirty underwear up off of the floor.  I stressed (perhaps a little
too
vehemently) that Drew was
not
my boyfriend, and that just because we had a man living in the house did not mean he had to rush to tell his Dad.  Overboard?  Probably.  His left eye had scrunched up with a look that clearly stated he thought his dear-ol'-mom had gone off the deep end.

“Whatever,” was the response I’d been given before he went back to playing his latest videogame.

I noticed a few days later that small changes were already happening around the house, even though Drew had only been with us for a short while.  Dylan had accepted him pretty quickly and was responding well to the new male authority.  Right now they were in the living room working on math homework.  It was kind of nice having someone around who'd been alive when mathematical theorems were invented.

Back in the Batcave, however, I was sitting in my chair twirling pencils around in my hair.  I think at that point I was up to five.  Oh, the things we do when we can't focus!

The sound of the two of them debating pre-algebra could just be heard over the load of laundry in the machine.  I could
definitely
get used to this.  Goddess of Domesticity, I was not.  Cooking wasn't too bad, but when it came to everything else, I had to force myself.  Never let it be said that Grace Murphy would have survived a career as a maid.

A new pencil was in my fingertips, tapping against my bottom lip as I stared at the screen.  Rosalinda was in need of some hot and sweaty sex and I couldn’t figure out how to get there without Mitchell throwing her down on a dusty road.

Who knew, Rosalinda could have enjoyed dirty road sex, but I was guessing that my readers wouldn’t. When one is close to virgin status, it’s hard to remember what seduction is like. To be honest, there hadn’t been a man in months who even gave me the tingle to write hot and sweaty sex scenes.

The pencil smacked against my lip so hard that it made my eyes sting at the realization of this obvious lie. Ok, so I had met someone who made me tingly. I swore and rubbed the offended flesh.

He wasn’t legendary for being the most beautiful man in the world for nothing. The boy was hot with a capital H. I could feel my pulse race just thinking about his tight ass as he had trudged in front of me on our walk today.

“I’m not a piece of meat, Grace!” he called from the living room.                                                             

My face burned so hot that I thought it was going to catch on fire.  It was extremely annoying that he could read my mind.

When I'd asked, he'd explained that the Gift had come in this form because he'd always wondered if any woman could ever love him for anything other than his beauty.

I’d rolled my eyes at him and asked, “What are you some kind of girl?”

He’d scowled in reply and that was the last I’d heard of the Gifts. Admittedly I had spent more time than I would have liked thinking about what mine would be. Grace Murphy, defender of the downtrodden! Snarking one villain at a time with her acerbic wit and pointy boobs!  If there was going to be super-natural mojo involved in my life, the least I could ask for was non-sagging boobs.

I shoved the pencil into a wound up snarl of hair and tapped my nails against the keyboard. I needed a seduction scene because you couldn’t have a romance without the, uh… romance.

Mitchell ran his fingertips across Rosalinda’s arm. Her flesh tingled at his touch but she stubbornly turned away. He knew that he would need to push past her barriers if she was ever to be his. But how would he ever grow a penis the size of the tallest mountain to tempt her
?

Yeah, this obviously wasn't working.  If it didn't seem like such a cop out, I'd have used a sex scene from one of my earlier books.

A discreet cough caught my attention and I turned to see Drew framed by light in my doorway. He had his arms folded across his chest and was leaning on the jamb, relaxed.  I wondered if he was posing for me as the light played through his hair, giving him some kind of angelic halo.

“I don’t think that a woman needs a mountainous cock to overcome her virginal fears, Grace.”

I blushed again, dipping my head to hide my embarrassment.

He pushed off the jamb and strode towards the desk to lean across my chair and read the words on the screen. He smelled like the outdoors and sunshine mixed with an aphrodisiac cocktail and I forced myself not to breathe in too deeply.

La La La La La!
Blanking out your mind is harder than you could imagine. I just needed to get laid. I wouldn’t be acting and thinking like a puberty ridden teenage boy if I weren’t cloistering myself.

Laughter filled his voice. “We’ll work on your mental blocks tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” I said with real gratitude. “Could you just try blocking me out for now?”

“Sure. You’ve been stuck in this place for some time now. Is there any way I can help you?”

He was sadistic. “Not unless you want to write it, no.” I ground out.

“I could do that,” was the reply that I got before he pushed my chair out of the way, bent over the keyboard and started typing.

I rolled a few feet over the hardwood floor before coming to a stop. “I didn’t really mean it.”

“It’s perfectly ok. You need to finish this book and I’ve had a lot of practice at seduction. I can step in for you and you can clean up any grammar or syntax. This may take a bit if you have something else you need to do.”

“Uh, ok. Thanks Drew.”

“Sure, no problem. Oh, and I like the Medusa look. It’s great on you.”

My forehead furrowed in confusion until his hand came up and patted his head. Realization dawned on me as I copied him and felt the pencils coiled in ropes of my hair. Good Lord, I was never going to last a single day without getting embarrassed around this man.

I pulled the pencils out of my hair, shoved them into a cabinet and ran out of the room as quickly as I could. I could hear him chuckling as I fled. My embarrassment turned to annoyance, which made me feel infinitely better.

Walking down the hallway towards the living room, I ran my hands over the pictures of Dylan. He was smiling in all of them. I grinned at the ones where he was trying to find his “smile,” the dorky gap toothed ones and the one where he was holding me down and tickling me.

Being a parent is rough. I was torn between relief - he would live a normal life with children and happiness - and sorrow for knowing that one day I would stand at his grave.  You want the best for them, always.  Knowing that I wouldn't be able to choose for him was hard, but he would grow to be a good man, making his own choices.

The object of my affection was on the phone and he waved at me as I passed. I stuck my tongue out at him and crossed my eyes. He snorted and continued his conversation.  I could hear him talking to his father. Nodding to myself I continued into the kitchen.

Steak or chicken? I suppose that if that was the only decision I had to make today, it was a good day. I didn’t have to decide. A pot roast was simmering in the crock pot.

Damn I loved having a live-in. I peeked into the pot and inhaled. This was probably the reason my stomach was growling. Seasoned baby red potatoes were waiting in a pan waiting to go into the oven. I checked the timer on the microwave and pre-heated the oven.

“Hey Mom!”

Little arms wrapped around my waist and I turned into the hug and squeezed him for all that I was worth.