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“Marriage customs. We would be one.”
I stared at him while horror, shock, and a little bit of aching swept through me. I was definitely going to puke if he kept this up. “You’re saying one more kiss and we’d be married? How is death not a sensible alternative to being tied irrevocably to each other?”
He sat up and leaned towards me, his hair falling like dark water around his face. “I will apologize for the rest of my life for the time I spent torturing you, but I won’t ever apologize for loving you, for seeing your soul and wanting to adore it. I love you. I admire you. I want to protect you, please you, and give you everything you desire. My feelings are quite decided and have been for years. I want to marry you with my whole soul.”
I kicked him, then I dove out the window. I would have killed myself if panic at seeing the pavement coming towards my face hadn’t triggered a shift to gargoyle. The crunching stone-meet-stone wasn’t a pretty sound, but I didn’t care, not when I had to scramble to my feet and run on heavy legs as far away from Percy and his words before they caught me, ripped apart my armor, and destroyed me permanently.
I ran slowly, because my legs were probably still the silent stone situation that Percy of No Mercy had used to rationalize kissing me. I should probably talk to my dad about it, but who had time for that when they’re running away from their own feelings?
Marriage? Had he actually used that word without flinching? He had. He could actually deliver lines like that shamelessly. He was so shameless. Even if I believed him, which I didn’t, how was it excusable to hurt someone for two years so they wouldn’t be hurt later? No, what you did when you wanted to protect someone was protect them, not hurt them. He was clearly operating under a faulty system and needed someone to teach him how to behave. I shouldn’t have kicked him.
I shook my head and forced my legs to run faster. No, I should have kicked him when he first said, ‘love,’ because then he wouldn’t have said, ‘marriage,’ like that was a logical progression. I was twenty! Who gets married when they’re twenty? Nobody. I mean, people do, and if people want to tie themselves down to one person before they’ve ever seriously dated, because they’ve spent so much time obsessing about mythical creatures that they’ll probably never meet, then that’s fine. Totally fine, but not for me, because I was busy doing other things, important things like exploring my mom’s side and taking over the world. Right, because I had so many big ambitions. I was a gargoyle, so that basically checked off my bucket list. I needed a new list.
What were my goals and dreams now that I had worlds opened up to me? I could probably join the Gray Society, or do magical research, or be one of those medical sorcerer surgeons my mother hated so much. I could do whatever my dad did, or something. I should have big goals that would be completely messed up by tying myself down to someone else, even if he was someone as accomplished, brilliant, and ambitious as Percy of No Mercy. No, that was the real reason not to get married to him, because he’d find some lofty ambitions for me to accomplish, and then I’d spend my life working too hard at something I was good at and that made a difference, but wasn’t me. Whatever I was. No blinking idea, but when I was three quarters home, my legs started functioning fully, so yay.
I climbed back to my room and into my bed while Rynne was still snoring away, blissfully unaware of my evening adventures. If only I could forget so easily.
Chapter
Sixteen
“Mom, what should I do with my life?” I asked as I dug compost into the dirt she kept rich and beautiful with her constant nourishment.
“I think that you should do lots of things. Too many people specialize in tiny parameters that, while efficient, lacks soul. You have so much soul, my beautiful daughter,” she said, giving me the slightly crooked smile that you’d give to a fresh-hatched chick. She loved me the way that you were supposed to love people, not torturing them for fun.
“What things? What am I good at? What drives me?”
She cocked her head as she studied me. Peter, her squirrel, took that moment of stillness to climb on her shoulder and try to feed her an acorn. She took it in her mouth, then spit it out when he had scampered away. She was wearing her gnome shirt again. “Loyalty, family, and you’ve always had a very strong streak of protectiveness towards those more vulnerable than you. As for what you should do for a career, I don’t know. That’s what college is for, but I don’t think that any work you’re paid to do will ever give you as much satisfaction as you get from family. Rynne is driven to make a difference, but she also wants the respect and admiration of being recognized as making a difference. You don’t have that. I’m sorry that you’re not more motivated, but you probably get it from me. I’m just happy soaking in the love and life that I’ve received. You are my greatest accomplishment.” She reached over to brush my hair out of my eyes with dirty fingers.
Peter took that moment to stick another acorn in her mouth, and she shook her head, laughing at the squirrel.
“Mom, there’s this guy,” I said, slowly.
“Cupcakes?” she asked, cocking her head. She actually remembered him.
My heart started pounding dangerously fast. “Yeah, cupcakes. Apple jam and molten chocolate. Anyway, I’m not sure what to do with him.”
Her eyes widened, and she leaned closer to me. “Are you asking me for sex advice?”
I flinched hard. “Never mind.” I started to get up, but she grabbed my hand, pulling me back down, laughing.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. We both know I can’t remember any details of your conception. I think that you should take it slow. Don’t make a decision without giving it time. Time has a way of solving the question one way or another.”
“That’s incredibly passive.”
She shrugged. “Patience is not as passive as it looks, particularly if you can somehow not be bitter while enduring it. Ooh, I sound so wise. How long have you known him?”
“Four years.”
She stared at me. “Four years is enough time to know how you feel about him.”
“It should be, but it’s not. I get so crazy around him that I’m not sure if I want to punch him or kiss him, and he’s so nice now, but under that façade is a secret sarcastic jerk who is too clever to not come out and chomp on your heart once it gets softened up. I’m afraid that he’ll break me like someone broke you.”
She put her arms around me and pulled me into a hug that may have been less awkward if Peter hadn’t seen that I needed comfort and tried to stick an acorn into my mouth.
“Sweetheart, fear can be a useful thing, like a signpost telling you that there be dragons, but it’s those kinds of risks that bring the greatest treasure. I agree, it’s frightening, but a life lived in fear is a life half-lived. Listen to me, I sound like a box of fortune cookies this morning.” She pulled back, still holding my shoulders, and looking slightly nervous. “I was going to ask you about your father.”
“You remember him?”
