The next night was one to give a person the willies. Pea soup fog inched outward, spreading across the pavement and winding its fingers around buildings and cars. The air was cold enough to penetrate the bones, unseasonably cold for October in New York. The ride across in the ferry had been bitterly uncomfortable, and fairly silent since Sam was pouting and Alex was canceling a date on his cell phone with some bimbo he had met. High in the dark heavens, the wind blew a thick cloud across the waxing moon, which would be full in a couple of days, Sam noted as she walked off the boat.
What was going to happen would happen tonight; she felt it in her bones just like the chill. Just what would happen she couldn't say, since there was neither rhyme nor reason to her gut instinct, just a feeling she couldn't shake. The conviction blanketed her mind like the cloud across the moon.
The others had scoffed at her insistence on the gorgon being infatuated with the Statue of Liberty. She could still hear Nic's parting shot as they'd split up to each go his merry way. Once again Sam had been tempted to tell him about the reference to the perverted sexual interest of Medusae, but some imp had kept her quiet. She and Alex had come her to kill the Meduse, and Nic could go hang. He and the others had split themselves between the various Goth clubs.
"Happy hunting," Nic had called to Sam and Alex's departing backs. Forest had shadowed him, standing too close for Sam's taste, but Nic was lapping up the Irish vampire's regard like Irish whiskey, she noted peevishly. Also it had been more than obvious that the pair thought she and Alex were on a fool's mission. Forest had been giggling as they'd left the hotel.
Well, let the woman laugh. Sam knew the old adage, He who laughs last laughs best, and she intended to be hysterical by the time she was in bed for the night.
Slamming her mind shut against any more thoughts of Nic and the vexatious vamp, Sam glanced up at the Statue of Liberty, taking in its proud majesty. A feeling of profound pride flooded her system, as it always did when she gazed upon the grand old lady. This dame was something else, with her hand held high, loftily lighting the way for new generations to find their American dream, just as she had done for millions before. The lady was a beauty, no doubt about it, and no self-respecting gorgon would be able to resist.
The poem inscribed at the base always affected Sam, that poem which had been changed slightly over the last eighty years to say, "Give me your tired your poor, your hungry haunted masses—your ghosts, your vampires, your werewolves and other supernatural predators yearning to be free."
The poor saps, Sam thought. Americans just hadn't figured on the Meduse. No one would throw out the welcome mat for a creature like Nero.
Glancing over at Alex, who wore a light wind-breaker, Sam wondered why the cold didn't bother him. She herself was dressed in a Columbo-like trench coat and fur-lined cap, and she was shivering, but he seemed oblivious to the cold ocean gusts all around.
Feeling Sam's eyes on him, he smiled. "She's something else," he remarked, his voice fraught with emotion as he glanced up at the grand old dame.
Sharing the moment, she smiled back. "She always gets to people, no matter their race, color or species—and no matter how many times you see her up close and personal." In the car on the way over, Sam had found out that this was Alex's second time to view the Statue. "America is quite a country."
"I guess," Alex agreed. "But I still miss Russia."
Sam smiled sympathetically. "At least your homeland is gorgon-free," she remarked.
"Yeah. Nic found out that there weren't any stonings there. Just in Italy, about a month ago. At least they think those two missing shapeshifters from Rome met with foul play, but with so many statues there, it's hard to tell."
"Well, there were no reported stonings on the West Coast, so I think we are best off assuming that the gorgon was hibernating around Rome somewhere. And for whatever reason, he decided to migrate here." Glancing back up at the Statue of Liberty, she added, "Maybe he couldn't resist the lure of this monument."
Alex shrugged. "In a crazy way, that makes perfect sense. Nero's a huge womanizer, so why wouldn't he carry a torch for the biggest woman in the world?" Observing the thin crowd outside the monument, he noted, "Nothing happening right now, though."
"Let's try indoors."
Inside, there was a small gathering of people.
"Not many here tonight," Alex commented.
"Too cold," Sam replied, scanning the crowd. Noting nothing, she nudged Alex's arm. "Let's go on up. Take the grand tour. I'm glad they're letting people do that again—I have something I want to confess."
Inside the crown, the crowd grew thin until it was only the two of them. There Sam confessed the odd reference to statuary rape. Alex gaped at her then grinned, giving her a very American thumbs-up for keeping her mouth shut about the bizarre reference. After a brief discussion about her omission, the two stared out into space. Below, the city of New York was a glittering, dazzling feast of lights, along with waves of drifting fog curling sluggishly around the rocks and foundations of buildings.
Finally Alex broke the silence. "Yes, I'm glad you didn't tell Nic about the sex thing. If we catch Nero then we'll be the heroes of the story. Still… poor Nic. You're barely talking to him. Are you ever going to forgive him for his deception?"
Sam turned to stare at him. "Is that any of your business?"
Alex grinned. "No, but why let that stop me?"
Sam couldn't help but smile. Alex was a cutup, and cute for a Strakhov. If she hadn't been hung up on Nic, she might have felt some physical attraction for him. Instead, Alex reminded her of her own brother, Bogart, with his sense of teasing misadventure and stupid practical jokes. She wondered how Bogart—or who Bogart—was doing. "You're a hopeless case, you know that?" she said wryly.
Alex nodded. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Now, speaking about my brother, remember that it's my fault he impersonated our cousin to get back at you. It was all a joke."
Sam gave him a quelling look. "Yes, Alex, I know. You're a riot, a laugh a minute."
"Now answer my question."
"Oh, didn't I?" Sam stared at him. "Perceptive of you to notice. Guess you have a head on your shoulders after all. Who would have thought, with those dirty stunts you pulled."
"Ow." Alex slapped a hand over his chest dramatically. "You wounded me."
Sam shook her head. "We're on duty here. Stop clowning around. I'd hate to see you stoned."
Alex snickered. "Nic feels the same way. Now I understand why Nic is so crazy for you. You're both too bossy."
Rolling her eyes, she laughed, but secretly she was jumping up and down. Did Nic really care so much? If he felt a fourth of what she felt for him, then maybe they had a chance.
Suddenly serious, Alex stared into Sam's eyes and willed her to believe. "It's true. I've never seen Nic like this with any other female. You're in his head and his heart."
In spite of herself, Sam's smile grew brighter.
Alex chortled. "See, you do care for Nic! I think you might just be as crazy about him as he is for you."
"Well, aren't you smart? Wipe that knowing smirk off your face, buster, and pay attention to our job. I'd hate to have to tell Nic that his little brother is a statue on top of a statue, target practice for pigeons."
"All right boss, you win. I'll behave."
And Alex was true to his words.
As the time passed, sometimes they talked, and sometimes they settled into a comfortable silence. The clock continued to tick. Two hours passed, and the fog thickened like a great gray blanket wrapping itself around the lower half of the city.
The call of a guard finally broke their thoughts, letting them know it was time to go. A reluctant Sam and a bored Alex slowly descended.
Boarding the ferry back to the city, both were lost in thought. She had failed tonight, and Sam didn't like that one little bit. Failure was not an option. The gorgon was out there, and she wasn't wrong about the Statue. For some reason, the Meduse had skipped his sexual hi-jinks tonight. But that didn't mean he would tomorrow or the night after that.
After the ferry landed, the crowd disappeared quickly into the gray fog, leaving Alex and Sam alone.
Life was a bitch at times like these, Sam thought ruefully. She felt like kicking somebody, hard. She had prepared herself for something to happen, and the gorgon hadn't shown. Ruefully, she shook her head as they headed for a street corner where they might hail a cab.
"I'll never live this down. And I hate like hell to admit it, but I guess Nic was right, at least about tonight. What rotten luck. And I just bet that Forest fires off some damn joke that's gonna make me want to kick her."
Alex slung his arm around her shoulder as they lurched forward into the white-gray darkness, their footsteps sounding a pitter-patter on the gritty, wet pavement.
"No, that book was most likely correct. I think your hunch is a good one. I like it. Just because the Meduse didn't show tonight doesn't mean he won't tomorrow."
Sam laughed half-heartedly, for he'd echoed her own thoughts. She chucked him on the chin. "Gee, thanks, kid."
Their banter was halted by a woman's scream, a' woman who had been driven beyond terror. The shrillness of her cry was unforgettable. Again the unknown woman screamed, and Alex was off like a shot back towards the harbor and quickly swallowed up by the fog.
Sam followed, trying to get her bearings while surrounded by the chalky gray mist, feeling lost and alone in this dreamscape where nothing seemed real. Ahead of her she heard the sound of a body falling, a woman's horrified gasp, and the sound of clothing tearing; this was followed closely by growling.
Quickening her pace, she almost ran over a woman lying unconscious on the ground, but who was still very much flesh and blood, which was a good sign as far as Sam could tell. Touching fingers to the unconscious woman's neck, Sam quickly found a pulse. The woman was fine; she'd just fainted, probably due to the horrific sight she'd seen.
And it was horrific, Sam realized, gulping noisily and taking in the battle before her. There were two combatants: the Meduse and a huge black wolf.
"A wolf?" Sam questioned, blinking her eyes rapidly to see if she was hallucinating. It wasn't everyday a girl saw a gorgon doing battle with a really big wolf. But she wasn't hallucinating, and the gorgon charged.
Sam gasped. The gorgon was both awesome and awful, a sight to make sore eyes. He had a beautiful face but a forked tongue. Claws extended from his fingers; long wicked claws. They weren't as long as Freddy Krueger's, who Sam felt could use a really good manicure, but long enough, and razor sharp.
In repulsed fascination Sam stared at Nero's head, which was misshapen from a full mane of snake hair. The snakes were hissing, coiling and uncoiling, and so his coif was a real fright.
"Talk about a bad hair day," Sam muttered to herself, and she withdrew the golden sword she'd hidden in her trench coat. That hair was just awful—appalling really, the poor monster. "You could use a real makeover, fang-bangs."
Hearing her words, the Meduse turned to face Sam fully, to judge the threat. Then he rapidly snapped his attention back to the snarling wolf, who was crouched low, ready to spring, white fangs glistening in the nearby lamplight.
Snarling, the black wolf charged, rushing low, his fangs sinking into the gorgon's thigh. Then he lept back keeping far enough away from the snake heads to prevent being bitten.
The gorgon howled in pain, and blood spurted from his wound. Reacting in rage and pain, he clawed the wolf in the lower right flank, scoring the skin with three deep gashes. Just at that moment, the unconscious woman regained consciousness. Wild-eyed and shrieking, she ran off into the night.
Now that the woman was gone, Sam didn't have to worry about protecting her anymore; she charged into the thick of the battle. Swinging her sword in a wide arc… she managed to miss the gorgon's neck by a good four inches.
Luckily, the sword did bite into the gorgon's back, and he howled with pain and rage. Retaliating swiftly, the Meduse caught Sam across her shoulder with a tremendous swipe, and knocked her on her butt.
She landed hard, jarring her spine, shooting radiating twinges of pain throughout her body. Scrambling for her sword she got painfully back to her feet, waiting for another chance to attack as the wolf barely missed being bitten by their enemy's dreadful locks.
Raising her sword to attack again, Sam muttered, "Next time Prince V. gets me a weapon, it damn well better be twenty pounds lighter."
The wolf bit hard into the gorgon's other side just as Sam charged. Unfortunately, her sword slipped just as she managed to raise it high enough to swing. This time, she clipped the gorgon on the arm.
Nero's reprisal was again swift. His blow caught her hard on the back and sent her crashing to the ground; this time she hit her forehead against the gritty pavement. Yep, the mean streets of New York were living up to their reputation tonight, she mused dimly.
Shaking her head, Sam rolled over, sword in hand and prepared to be caught by a snake in the ass. Stunned, she watched the gorgon spin around and run off into the cold, thick fog, hissing as he went and holding his torn and bloody side.