Read Online Dead Beautiful by Melanie Dugan - Free Book Online Page B

tell by how her glance lingered on him, how she listened more closely at the mention of his name. I guessed she was jealous, but what could I do? I needed him around to divert mum and Hera’s attention. Really, for all I cared, Cyane could hook up with Darryl. They seemed well-matched, neither one of them what I’d call “big picture” types. But not yet. I needed him just a while longer.
    Still, it was nice to see her perked up.
    “Let’s go for a walk, check out some of the experiments.”
    We tucked away the trays of seedlings I’d been working on, checked the temp and humidity settings to make sure all would be well, and closed the greenhouse. Then we headed into the fields. The sun was out — it was always out in those days — small wisps of cloud sailed past high up in the gentian-blue sky.
    Something was stirring. Beneath my feet I could feel the very ground purring. In the air I could smell a musky undertone beneath the floral scents that surrounded us.
    We went to the bulb/rhizome/tuber/root stock field, where I had planted out the new strains I’d been working on. I had a separate field for annuals, one for perennials, and another one for what the humans called weeds, but which are some of my favourite plants, so resilient and robust.
    The air had an unearthly clarity; each pistil, stamen, sinuous stem, swelling bud, unfurling leaf etched in detail. Chionodoxa petals looked like velvet; I brushed my fingertips over them, they were softer than a dream. Peonies, their heads explosions of pink and mauve, tumbled on the ground, lying as if satiated.
    And then, in the middle of the tulips, I saw it — a plant my hand had never touched. White, with the barest blush of creamy pale gold, it glowed like seduction, like a promise of good fortune. The head was so heavy it swayed on the stem, a stem so slender and elegant it looked as though it would snap under the load it bore.
    The flower’s scent flowed out to me: the crisp bite of citrus, cinnamon, and something else, a darker, slightly bitter tone that perfectly undercut the almost too-sweetness of the other notes.
    I knew what it meant. I moved towards it, Cyane’s voice a dissonant cawing in the background.
    I slipped my hand around the stem; one quick jerk should free the bloom. I knew that in taking it, I was making a decision, I was making a choice.
    The earth groaned, cracked open. He stood beside me, a tall dark shape carved in the day’s brightness.
    I turned to him. His power flowed to me. Yes, I thought, holding out both my hands to him. He took them; I pulled him to me. His cloak surrounded us, erasing the sunlit world. I was swallowed by darkness.
     

3. Winter
     

Cyane
     
    Everyone is blaming me but I had no idea. Demeter showed up recently and went — excuse my Latin — apeshit on me, but like I said to her, I did not know what was going on.
    I didn’t tell her what happened — Pers has run off with Hades (at least I think that’s what went on) — because do I need that wrath of Demeter to fall on my head? I don’t think so. She’d probably turn me into a weed or something.
    Those guys upstairs know what’s going on. Zeus sees all, knows all. He can give her the news, he can take the flak. I didn’t tell Demeter that. She’d wig out on me. I just played dumb.
    All I ever did was drop off that bulb thing. The next thing I know Pers is pulling up a white flower and the ground, the ground just splits open and there he is — Hades, erupting beside her like a pillar of black lava. I could feel the heat coming off him. I was so scared I just about turned into a water freshet.
    Anyway, here’s the thing: when Hades took her, well, he didn’t take her. I don’t think. It didn’t look that way. Demeter’s going on about how Pers has been abducted and stuff, but it wasn’t like that.
    When he was materializing it was as if Pers was expecting him. She wasn’t scared; she didn’t run away. She stood there. I’d swear she grew