The Nymph's Curse: The Collection (12 page)

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you last night, I hope you know that. I just want what’s best for you.”

Kaden picked up a napkin from the table and twisted it in his fingers. “I know,” he said in almost a whisper.

Finally, progress.

A lanky waitress approached their table. Her brunette hair fell long over her shoulder and reminded him of Ariadne. Would Ariadne have a better way to handle this situation? He wished he could call her and get her advice, but he wasn’t about to call her. She was the one who had acted crazy the other night. Then again, he hadn’t helped anything.

It seemed like his life was in a downward spiral of chaos. What had he done to deserve all this shit? He paid his taxes, he didn’t cheat, he didn’t lie, yet he couldn’t seem to get away from the bitch-slap of karma.

Now wasn’t the time for self-pity. He needed to deal with everything. Kaden was more important than his self-pity. He needed to be there for his son.

The waitress smiled. “Can I get you something?”

Damn, even her voice was like Ariadne’s. How was he going to make things right between them?

“I’ll have a soda,” Kaden said to the woman.

“Make that two.” Beau picked up a menu and pointed at the first offering. “And an order of moussaka.”

The woman smiled, took the menus, and fluttered away back into the white stucco building.

Beau tapped his finger on the metal mesh of the table as they waited. After a few minutes, he couldn’t stand the silence between them any longer. “I want you to know, I’m really glad you came here to spend time with me.”

Kaden still twisted the napkin between his fingers. “Well, Mom made me. It wasn’t my choice.”

Didn’t Kaden understand that he was really trying? “I guessed that much, but I’m still glad you’re here.”

He could almost hear the nose-dive of a plane in his subconscious.

The waitress came back with two sweating glasses of soda, plates, a basket of bread, and a square dish of moussaka. “Here you boys go. Anything else for you?”

How about a way to get around Kaden’s wall?

Beau forced a smile. “Nope. We’re good. Thanks.”

He noticed Kaden’s glance follow the woman into the restaurant. He smiled. It was good sign to see his son doing something normal that wasn’t moping.

“She’s pretty, huh?” He waited for Kaden to respond. Nothing.

“Yeah, but she’s not as pretty as Trina,” Beau teased.

“Beau!”
Kaden retorted. “That’s gross.”

“What?” Beau asked, trying to act innocent. “Just saying that Trina’s
hot
.”

“Oh my God. You didn’t really just say that did you?”

“Hmm?” Beau scooped out some of the lasagna-looking dish and dropped it on Kaden’s plate, then his own, as he tried not to laugh. He’d found the sweet spot.

Kaden picked at his food. “Don’t talk about her like that … ”

Beau ate a bite of the delicious melted cheese and vegetables and took a moment to savor the rich flavors, and let his son linger in thought.

Beau swallowed and took a sip of his soda. “I’m just saying at least my kid has good taste. Good thing too, your mother said you were having a hard time with the girls at school. I thought I was going to have to set you up with one of the old nuns.”

Kaden smiled, as he must have realized Beau was teasing. “Yeah, Trina’s hot. But that Ariadne — man!” Kaden’s eyes bore into him. “When are you going to go after that? She seemed like she needs a good — ”

“A good what?” Beau asked, as his eyebrows rose.

Kaden laughed. “I was going to say ‘guy.’ What did you think I was going to say, Beau?”

Ariadne looked up at the night sky. The clouds rolled across the heavens and blotted out the light of the moon, darkening the sisterhood’s festivities. It was strange to think that only a night ago, she and Beau had been below in the bay making love as if tomorrow would never come. Why had she allowed her need for his touch override her judgment of what should and shouldn’t be done?

Near the edge of the circular fire pit, where the tiny tips of orange flames reached upwards, Tammy stood with a bag at her feet. Arrayed around Tammy were Ariadne’s serpent-shifting sisters. At the head of the circle sat a half-log altar, and behind it a group of sisters sat while they beat large drums in an old melody. Tammy threw her arms into the air and began to chant in unison with the beat.

Kat stepped next to Ariadne’s left and slid her cold hand into Ariadne’s. Kat looked at her and smiled as she dug her nails painfully into her skin. Looking the woman in the eye, Ariadne smiled though the pain shot through her.

“I assume you will be following directions tonight.” Kat glared at her. “I hope I don’t need to reinforce to you the importance of this ceremony. I’ve heard about how close you have become with that Dr. Morris. Don’t you dare, for a second, assume that I’m not aware of how you’re behaving. You need to end the relationship now. I won’t allow it.”

Kat’s power trip was getting on her nerves. When would it end? When would Kat treat her with respect?

There would be no going back to being a meek little lamb. She needed to live her life and she couldn’t do that if she continued to be pushed down by Kat. However tonight was not the time to let hatred take center stage. Every woman of the circle was a sister, even Kat, and they had come together to honor their goddess.

Instead of answering, she simply turned her back on the woman and walked to the far side of the circle and took the hands of her other sisters.

Kat walked next to Tammy and pulled a snake out of the bag that sat at Tammy’s feet. The snake wrapped its thick, brown body around her naked thigh and Kat began to sing a hymn to Epione. The drums beat strong and with each thunderous quake the snake slithered farther up the woman, winding over her arms and then up around her neck. The woman didn’t flinch; instead, her red lips pulled into a crazed smile while her eyes reflected the lingering flames of the ebbing fire.

The crowd around Tammy filled the circle with a garble of prayers. Ariadne’s heart mimicked the beat of their wavering tones and her stomach clenched with the tension that grew with each thunderous beat of the drum.

Ariadne had been a part of the ceremony every year for almost three thousand years, but it still felt as sacred and monumental as the first time she had celebrated the human death of her goddess, the day Zeus chose to encase their island in the molten rock of Thera. He had killed thousands of Minoans, and ended an egalitarian society that would never again find a foothold in human culture.

Zeus had always hated the fact that women had been the central focus of the culture. Women lawmakers, business owners, and empresses — and the dismissal of his sexual advance toward Epione had only been a reason for him to eradicate the peaceful society.

Ariadne would never forget the day the ash had rained down from the sky. The ground had rumbled beneath her feet and day turned into night. She and her sisters had run to take shelter, but many were buried by the falling ash, only to be found days or weeks later.

Epione had fallen to Zeus, but not before she had entrusted the care of her staff to Kat, who had followed her wishes and brought the twisted crystal staff to the Labyrinth — where it had stayed. And where it needed to remain, protected.

The wind blew, billowing the thin fabric of her skirt and teasing the flames.

She closed her eyes and exhaled a calming breath. Now was the time. “Goddess, be with me.”

She stepped out from her place in the circle and walked to the altar. Reverently, she picked up the ceramic statue of Epione, their goddess, their mother, and the first of their kind. Her powers had been magnificent, the ability to heal, perform magic, sing and dance. Unfortunately, as she bore more nymphs, her powers were passed on, but lessened with each successive generation. Now most nymphs had one special power and one shift, and typically that was all. Epione was an amazing goddess. More than a goddess — she was everything — an amazing woman, friend, and mother.

With a bow, she lifted the idol and placed it lovingly in her arms. She needed to concentrate on the task at hand and serve her goddess well.

The chant continued, but she found silence in her soul as she prepared for what she must do. Turning, she walked to the edge of the wide fire pit. Her foot struck the hot coals, but there was no pain. The warmth of the ground was like the touch of a mother’s warm hands on her sensitive feet.

Taking a step, she looked down at the ancient sculpture of the wide-armed goddess perched inside the security of her arms. The snakes wrapped around the goddess’ arms and wound in a sacral knot between her bare breasts. The sculpture grew hotter in her arm as it absorbed the heat from the flames.

“You are safe, my mother,” she prayed. “The flames shall not touch my mother, my goddess. May they only warm the hearts of those who remember your sacrifice. May they honor your memory, and move past the transgression inflicted upon us. I vow to protect you, our way of life, and all that we hold sacred.” She closed her eyes and a sense of peace passed over her.

Her feet struck the cool grass as she left the heat of the flames. She walked to the half-log altar that was covered in the fruits, grapes, oils, and honeys that she and her sisters had brought in tribute to their goddess. With a bow, she gently placed the sculpture at the center of the altar. “Please help me to move forward with my life and escape the ghosts of my past.” She dropped her head in a low bow. “Blessed be, my mother.”

She kissed the smooth edge of Epione’s ceramic skirt. A tear slid down her cheek as she remembered her mother. It would have been so different if Zeus had only chosen another, more willing woman.

Her hands shook as she lifted her lips from the hem of her goddess’ skirt. Epione had sacrificed for what she knew was right. She had given her life to not be violated by a man — no, a God. Now it was time for her and her sisters to honor her sacrifice with a sacrifice of their own.

The white yearling goat stood picketed at the far end of the circle. It called out into the night, as if the beast knew what was to come.

Stepping back, Ariadne picked up her long hair and flipped it under her shirt. Peeling the edges of the cotton from her stomach, she pulled the shirt off and dropped it to the ground. Her sisters followed her lead and each began shedding the skin of their society. Her white skirt fell to the green grass and she stepped her blackened, ash-covered feet from the circle the fabric formed.

Everyone went silent as they stripped from their clothes. Trina, the youngest sister, stepped to the stake and took the goat’s leash. The goat bleated, as she led the untouched beast to Kat.

Kat lifted the head of the snake from her wrist. Pinching its diamond-shaped head, she pressed it to the neck of the goat. Again and again she pressed the snake’s fangs into the flesh of the sacrifice. The goat began to shift and lean. Kat laughed as she pressed the fangs of the snake into the goat again.

The goat bleated and fell to the ground. Its side rose with shallow breaths. Kat pulled the snake from her body and kissed the head of the snake. With quiet veneration, she bent down and rested the serpent on the body of the goat.

Tears welled in Ariadne’s eyes, this was a part of the sacrifice, but it always made her sad to watch an innocent animal give its life. She blinked back her tears. She had a low enough rank without having her sisters assume that the modern world had weakened her devotion to their goddess.

“My sisters,” Kat exclaimed, extending her arms into the sky, in the stance of the snake goddess figurine. “We dance!”

The naked women pulled together into a circle around the flickering ashes. Each woman took the next hand. Ariadne took Trina’s hand and smiled. The young nymph had only experienced this ceremony for a few hundred years, and her excitement was still fresh on her face. Kat pushed her way between them, and grabbed Ariadne’s hand. Ariadne ignored the way Kat’s fingernails scraped her skin.

Kat led them into the Greek song.
“Epione, my humble goddess. Ever present to bring health to the sick. Epione, battle-maiden of death, we salute you. Bring us this day a new year filled with life. May the curse of Zeus be lifted and your bravery be commended.”

Letting go of Kat’s hand, their song ceased and she spun out into the night. She rubbed the blood back into her fingertips as she wove her naked body in a wide arc around the other women. Kat looked over her bare shoulder and back toward her. Catching her eye, Kat sneered and turned back toward the flames, her bubble-shaped behind looked even larger in the poor light.

Ariadne smiled as she let the darkness take her naked form.

The women began to move slowly in a rhythmic dance around the flames. They hummed an ancient song. While she watched, she moved back into the row of heavily scented olive trees. She needed a moment away from the prying eyes of her sisters to rest.

A warm hand grasped her wrist and she tried to scream, but another clapped over her mouth. She tried to pull away from the hands, but as she struggled, the man’s hands only grew stronger. He pulled her toward him. She could feel the heat of his body against her naked back and his breath tickled the nape of her neck.

“Don’t speak,” a man whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her teeth grazed his flesh as she tried to bite the inside of his hand.

“Hey, no,” he warned.

She wanted to shift, but to do so was dangerous. The man smelled of human.

“Let go,” she said, her words garbled by the sweat of his palm.

“If I let you go, you must promise not to alert your friends.”

If she agreed, there was no guarantee that the stranger wouldn’t try to kill her, not that he could. His hands were full now, but if he let go, he would be free to do as he pleased. She was naked and weaponless — expect for her serpent form. If she shifted, she would have to strike, and with her strike came death.

Should she kill him?

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she demanded through his slightly opened fingers.

“I am … ” he hesitated, “not the one standing here naked.”