Unfinished Muse (31 page)

My heart raced and my mouth went dry. This
was the worst nightmare I’d ever had—way worse than the dream about
the rabid squirrel with the eye patch and the tiny hooked paw.

“Okay. Breathe. Wake up, Patrice. Just a bad
dream. Wake up.” I hit the light switch in an effort to get a
better look in the mirror by my bedroom door. Pain raced through my
head like someone had shot me through both eyes with a Daisy Red
Ryder BB gun. I covered them with one hand and slapped at the light
switch with the other until I got lucky and flipped the lights
off.

Dream or not, the pain had been real. The
snakes attached to my head squirmed and writhed in agitation, as if
they, too, had felt the stabbing pain. I threw my bedroom door open
and ran out in my cotton nightgown, yelling for my parents.

I was halfway down the hall when they heard
me. Their light flashed on and I spun around, shielding my eyes.
“Turn off the light! Turn it off!”

The light went out and my parents stepped
into the hall, the low light of my television giving us enough to
see each other. I rose and stared at them, waiting to see if they
saw what I thought I’d felt—hundreds of snakes growing from my
head.

I expected either bewilderment at my odd
behavior or horror at what they saw. They gave me neither. I
certainly hadn’t expect an apology.

Dad took a step toward me. “Sweetheart, I
can explain.”

Mom gave me a watery-eyed smile. “I am so
sorry, honey.”

I frowned. “Sorry? I have snakes on my head.
How is that something you did?”

Mom glanced at Dad and back at me. “It’s not
exactly something I did, but it did come from me.”

The snakes settled over me, curling around
each other and laying still.

I gave a nervous laugh. “What? You planted
snake seeds in my scalp?”

I was still going with the idea that this
was a terrible nightmare. Even worse than the one about the
blood-filled water balloon fight with Christopher Walken.

She shook her head and walked toward me.
“It’s a recessive gene. Somewhere in my family, way back, we’re
related to gorgons.”

I snorted. “What are you saying? Medusa is
my great-grandmother?”

“Something like that.” She took my hand.
“Come sit down.”

In a daze, I followed my parents into their
room. Dad turned on the bathroom light and closed the door enough
to shield my eyes from the light, yet give us enough to see each
other.

A terrible thought occurred to me, and I
squeezed my eyes shut. “Don’t look at me! I might turn you to stone
if you look me in the eyes.”

Dad patted me on the arm. “You wouldn’t do
that to us. We trust you. Just don’t look straight at us.”

This was insane. I noted, as if from a far
off, detached sort of way, that in the more natural bathroom light,
my skin was a sort of translucent, sea-foam green. It was kind of
pretty.

“I don’t understand.” I twisted my arm in
the light to see the color better. “Why am I only seeing this
now?”

Mom and Dad glanced at each other again,
then Dad looked down at his hands. “We were contacted when your
mother was pregnant. The situation was explained that you wouldn’t
appear human. They gave us a choice between giving you up to be
raised as a gorgon in a foster home for mythological creatures, or
raise you ourselves with you having no knowledge of what you really
were.”

I pointed at my head. “But I didn’t look
like this.”

Mom brightened. “The man who originally
contacted us sold us Deity Springs Stealth Insurance for you. It
disguised you so well, no one would ever know. Including you.”

I scowled. “You bought me a disguise that
was mousy and unattractive? Thanks a lot.” I shook my head and the
snakes hissed in objection to the movement. “So, why am I seeing
this now? What changed?”

Dad took a deep breath. “Your insurance
lapsed. We can’t legally cover you anymore.”

~*~

The next few days were pretty rough. The
light sensitivity was an easy fix. Sunglasses did the trick, and it
kept me from turning anyone to stone by mistake. But no hat was big
enough to cover all those snakes, and I wasn’t about to do a
full-body spray tan every time I left the house.

So much for my degree in herpetology.

Dad called the stealth insurance company and
got the runaround. Since my parents had let the insurance lapse
instead of actually telling me what the hell was going on so I
could transfer it to my name, getting the insurance started again
was enormously expensive. I didn’t have enough in my account, and
neither did Mom and Dad.

I’d have to save up for months to have the
money. The catch to that was I couldn’t go to work anymore, not
without the insurance. People prefer to buy hand lotion, mints, and
toilet paper from people who don’t have green skin and a head full
of snakes. I had no choice. The life I’d been living was over. I’d
have to go to wherever non-human folks lived and start over.

Oddly enough, I wasn’t too upset by that.
Sure, I’d miss my parents. I couldn’t think of too many other
things I
would
miss, though. And this might sound crazy, but
once I got a good look at myself in the mirror, I was thrilled.
Seriously. For the first time in my life, I was
hot
. Maybe
not the kind of hot that would get a guy’s attention or make other
women jealous, but that never mattered to me. I liked what I saw.
The skin color. The snakes. The curve of my cheek and the fullness
of my lips.

I was finally comfortable in my own
skin—proud, even. Ironic that I couldn’t go out in public like
that.

So, when Garmond Schumacher, the six-foot
tall minotaur, showed up at my front door in a snazzy business
suit, I was ready to leave with him before he’d finished his
spiel.

The bull-headed man sat on my sofa and
cleared his throat. “Temporary housing will be provided for you,
and you’ll meet with a career consultant to find you a good match.”
He braced his hands against his knees and gave me an earnest look
with his large cow eyes. “I know this is all new and difficult.
We’ll do everything we can to ease you—”

“I’ll go pack my suitcase.” I leaped from my
chair. “How much stuff can I bring?”

He flicked an ear and blinked. “Pack a bag,
and we’ll send for the rest once you’re settled.”

My parents gave him sheepish smiles.

“She’s been cooped up for a few days,” Mom
said.

I ran up the stairs and tossed clothes into
a suitcase as fast as I could pull them off hangers and scoop them
out of the dresser. I threw my toothbrush, toothpaste, and shower
gel into a toiletry bag and stopped. What else could I possibly
need? Hair products were out. I’d never need those again. I never
wore much makeup before, and now that I wanted to, nothing was
appropriate for my new coloring.

I shrugged and zipped the bag. Fairyland—or
wherever the hell I was going—had to have drugstores, right? Oh,
gods. I truly hoped I didn’t get stuck working at a supernatural
drugstore for the rest of my life.

Once my suitcase was packed, I paused and
looked around my room. With the exception of the snake habitat in
the corner, the room looked more like a guestroom or a motel room.
It was as if no one had ever lived there.

In a way, I never really had.

I pushed my sunglasses up the bridge of my
nose. “I’ll send for you, Daphne. I promise.”

~*~

The bull guy had promised me housing. He
hadn’t promised I’d have it to myself. Two giggling nymphs and a
siren shared my dorm room with me. The nymphs were afraid of me and
stayed clear whenever possible. The siren used up all the hot water
while she sang entire operas in the shower.

Other than that, though, she was pretty
cool. Her name was Lizzy, and she helped ease me into my new life
from the first day of my arrival.

“One thing’s for sure, we need to get you
some better clothes,” she said, wrinkling her nose. She flipped
through the hangers in my closet, scowling at the sensible skirts
and blouses. “Clothes are meant to decorate your body, honey, not
hide it.” She took a sip from her wine goblet, one finger sticking
out toward me. “And we need to get you some makeup. Seriously. Look
at that gorgeous complexion. I’ve got some lavender lipstick that
will totally pop against that lovely green.”

I perched on the edge of my bed and watched
her scurry around, humming softly to herself. She snagged a huge
cosmetics case and dropped it on the bed next to me. Her face
screwed up in concentration as she dragged a chair close to me.

“Okay. First, I need you to take off those
ridiculous sunglasses.” She reached toward me to take them
away.

I pulled away from her reach. Several
head-snakes hissed and drew back. “What are you doing? I could turn
you to stone.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she stared
at me. “What?”

I pointed at me head. “Hello? I’m a
gorgon!”

Her lower lip quivered. “Honey.” She put her
hand on my knee and pressed her lips together while she inhaled
through her nose. “Oh, honey.”

“What? Don’t you know anything about
mythology?” I sat straighter, offended. She wasn’t laughing at me,
exactly, but she was close. “I can’t take these off when people are
around.” I paused as she pulled herself together. “Besides. The
light hurts my eyes.”

She nodded. “Okay, that one’s legit.” She
waved her hand. “The stone thing? Totally bogus. That was
specifically Medusa’s curse. Haven’t you ever met another gorgon
before?”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I only
met
me
a week ago.”

“Ah.” She patted my leg. “I see.” She tapped
her finger on her thigh, thinking. “Okay. You need a makeover and a
full tour. Have you met with your career counselor yet?”

“I just got here. I have an appointment
tomorrow afternoon.”

She snapped open her makeup case. “Good.
We’ve got a lot of work to do before I can take you out in public.
Let’s get started.”

~*~

I began my new job looking fabulous. The
lavender lipstick was a great contrast to the green eye shadow
Lizzie taught me to use as blush. We found some small, round shades
that shut out enough light to protect my eyes without covering half
my face. The slit in my pencil skirt showed off a whole lot of hot
green leg. I learned to coax the snakes into a side part with a few
of the smaller ones hanging seductively over one eye. Never in my
life had I felt so confident.

And it was all wasted on the shitty
receptionist job they assigned me in the career center.

I glared through my glasses at the skinny
girl in front of me. “Yes?” I pressed my lips together as if she’d
done something terribly wrong. The only thing she’d done wrong was
have the bad luck to be there when I was there.

One of my snakes hissed, and the girl
twitched and slid paperwork toward me. “I think I filled it out
right.” Her voice quivered and her hand shook.

I felt sorry for her and glanced over the
page. “It’ll do.”

I regretted my grumpy tone and offered a
small smile. “Follow the gold line on the floor to Athens.
Orientation begins in ten minutes.” I stamped her paperwork with a
flourish and dropped it in the outbox. “Next.”

There wasn’t much to the job. I sat behind a
desk and handed out maps of the building, registered newbies for
orientation, took complaints, and answered general questions.
Better than retail, I supposed. At least I got to sit down.

But it wasn’t what I wanted to be doing with
my life. I wanted to study reptiles and amphibians. I wanted to
learn things. I wanted to go back to school. The moment I turned
green and sprouted snakes from my head, my options became
limited.

It turned out, the job did not actually
require me to be nice to people. That was at my own discretion.

Within a month, I ruled the reception desk
and all who stepped inside the brightly lit, domed atrium of the
Mount Olympus Employment Agency. If someone wanted something done,
they had to go through me to get the proper paperwork. If a new
hire showed up, they couldn’t get to orientation until I stamped
their application. How long it took to accomplish anything depended
solely on my good will.

If I couldn’t have the career I wanted, I’d
take what I was stuck with and make it mine.

“Next.” I always kept my voice low and cool,
sometimes adding a little hiss where I could. It made people
nervous.

A human guy, kind of cute but nothing
remarkable, stepped forward and placed a pile of paperwork on the
chest-high counter. I gave him a long look until he squirmed, then
picked up the papers, slowly tamping them on the counter.

“I filled in what I could,” he said. His
voice shook a little. “I didn’t know the answer to a lot of the
questions.”

Of course he didn’t. No one knew the answers
to all of the questions on the intro-forms. Questions like “Which
parent is the dominant deity?” and “What powers have you
manifested?” weren’t meant to be answered by the majority of
newcomers. Most of them had no idea what was going on. They’d hit
rock bottom in their lives, which propelled them into Mount
Olympus. They had no idea they had the blood of a god or hero in
their ancestry. Like regular humans, they didn’t know any of this
existed. The paperwork was meant to give them their first clues in
order to ease them into their new reality.

I grunted and pretended to examine his
paperwork. Frankly, as long as his name, address, and social
security number were on the form, that’s all that was required.
Anything else was bonus.

“I didn’t understand half of what’s on it,”
he said. “What do my parents have to do with any of this?”

I looked down at him through my glasses, and
he shifted from foot to foot. “You’ll have to ask someone in
personnel, sir.” I leaned forward. “Did you want me to give you the
form to fill out for an appointment?” There was no form for that.
But I made it sound so ominous, he’d never ask for it.