Romancing the Gorgon, page 1
Romancing the Gorgon
Tallie Rose
Copyright © Tallie Rose 20223
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the copyright owner, except for brief excerpts for review or summary.
Cover art by Drew Montgomery
www.tallierose.com
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To everyone who dared to be a little bit different and all the people who loved them for it.
-CHAPTER
ONE-
THE BROWN, RATTLING remains of leaves stirred above Lettie’s head, a reminder that winter would soon be there, that winds would turn the surface of the lake, and soon the last of the straggling tourists would be gone for the season. Lettie usually loved this time of year. Lilac Lake was hardly a tourist destination, but summer and spring brought in strange faces and fuller streets. She usually liked the winter, when everything was quiet, when she knew everyone, when the town was just hers.
Today Lilac Lake felt like a dud. Like no matter how hard she tried it would not open to her, let her sink her teeth into the deep marrow at its core. Or maybe she was just in a bad mood, maybe she just knew the world class coffee at Hershel’s Diner was just Folgers and that the underside of the pier was thick with chewed gum. Mostly it was that she’d been outbid—again—by an out-of-town investor.
Though she still had her grandmother’s lodge in some ways; she still worked each day, and greeted the guests, and ordered the linens, and did all the things a manager would do. But she’d thought it would be hers, that she would really and truly own a piece of the town, instead her grandmother had died and her will had made no mention of the Stone and Sorcery Lodge she owned half of.
So, without the Lodge in her name, Lettie wanted to grab every piece of the town she should get and hold on to it, make sure nothing changed, because she knew in five years—or ten or maybe even twenty—but she knew eventually more people would flock to the town, it would grow and change and become something she didn’t recognize.
And then, she worried something even worse would happen. The appeal of the town would wear off, the tourists would thin, all the investors grabbing land like Halloween candy would lose interest, and the town would become one of those sad places you drove through and felt sorry for.
Lately, Lettie worried a lot.
Deep inside her, pushed down, her magic twisted, but she tried to ignore it. No good came of being a witch, at least not for Lettie, though others thrived on it. But Lettie did not do magic, not even a parlor trick. It had been a long time since she’d given up on her magic, and though it often tried to make itself known she never gave it a chance.
She kicked one of the pebbles lining the lake’s shore and crossed her denim-clad arms across her chest. She shouldn’t be so morose, she had a meeting with the town lawyer, Albert Hillchamp, in an hour and she had an idea of what he would say. Or at least a hope. The only flicker of it she’d had since her grandmother, Hattie, had passed.
Her grandmother’s best friend, Everly Hart, had died a month ago. She’d been ready for it at the end, missing her friend, her husband. She’d been ready to go and that had made it easier for everyone who had loved her.
Grinding her teeth, Lettie tried to push away her ideas about her meeting with Hillchamp and not let hope settle into her mind, a dream too good to come true. She couldn’t think about Stone and Sorcery Lodge and all the memories that came with it because her expectations would get too high and just like everything else, they were liable to come crashing down around her.
“Fuck.” she muttered, running a hand through her strawberry blonde hair. “Get it together, Katz.” Her magic sparked again at her fingertips, more active than it usually was, and she balled her hands into fists extinguishing it. It had been trying to break free all week, like it knew something she didn’t.
She really was a ball of nerves, both excited and terrified at the thought of her meeting with the lawyer. To calm herself, she looked towards the center of the lake, the magical heart of the town, and heard the whisper in the wind.
There were plenty of places in the world where Supernaturals gathered, where magic flowed, and anything seemed possible. But the people of Lilac Lake had held their secret close until, like all things, it had eventually flowed through their fingers and into the world.
There were cities where fae roamed, resort towns where witches and shifters rubbed elbows, but few places where the most feared of the Supernaturals walked—the ones that history had seen as demons, the sirens and gorgons and banshees.
For most of the town’s history they had held that secret close, but then the journalists had come, the photographers and the newscasters. Sure, it had been before Lettie was born, but it had been her grandmother’s favorite story. Probably because it was about her and Everly, the witch and the gorgon, and the namesakes of the Lodge.
The story—and the way the secret had gotten out—said that Everly had turned Hattie to stone. Her grandmother would chuckle as she told them how it was supposed to be funny, but the art judges at the county fair hadn’t thought so. The story had snowballed after that until everyone knew about gorgons, sirens, and banshees, and the little town where they lived.
The mayor had issued a sanction against the two of them and they’d laughed at that too, as they did interviews and radio spots until they had enough money to buy the land where the Lodge now stood.
And at some point, everyone had forgotten how mad they were. Everly and Hattie had brought in tourism, and the increase in money had come with a change of heart for the townsfolk.
Now they were both gone, the two old ladies who had been the center point of Lettie’s universe. And she didn’t know how to see Hillchamp, how to watch Everly’s possessions split up and called assets. She definitely didn’t know what she would do if the Lodge, once again, didn’t go to her.
It had been hard with her grandmother, but now the situation had gotten dire. Though the Lodge was still open, the women had gotten too old to properly care for it and despite Lettie’s best intentions she could only do so much without owning it. The Lodge was overgrown, the paint was peeling, and the small cabins at the lake’s shore that had once been an all-girl’s summer camp were falling apart, full of raccoons and debris.
“Fuck,” she repeated and turned her back on the lake. Usually, Lettie was not a glass half empty kind of woman. She was bright and cheerful and wore blazers in shades of colors her grandmother had described as garish.
At least she had.
Lettie left the lake behind and headed towards Main Street. The town was quiet, too late to grab a cup of coffee, too early for lunch, and not the season for brunch. She pulled out her phone as she turned onto the main strip of town and scrolled through messages until she found a string of texts between her and her best friend Daphne.
She started to type.
Hey, are you
“Watch out!”
Lettie’s phone tumbled from her fingers, skittering across the pavement. The woman she’d nearly steamrolled bent down at the same time she did, and she realized what was happening, but she realized too late, as they crashed into each other, and the woman fell right onto her ass.
Then she looked up. And Lettie wished the pavement beneath her feet would open up and swallow her whole. That she’d turn into goo and sink through the cracks in the pavement. Anything but looking down into the wide green eyes of Chandler Hart.
“First your brother and now you. Katz everywhere.” Chandler pushed herself up from the sidewalk and brushed off her jeans.
Suddenly Lettie was seventeen again, crying into her pillow. “Why are you here?” The words spilled from her lips seemingly before they passed through her brain. She could feel the blush that spread across her cheeks. Chandler’s grandma had died, her will reading was today. Of course, she was here. “I mean—It’s good to see you.”
“Is it?” Chandler cocked her head to the side. Her mess of black curls was shorter than it had been when they were teenagers, she’d gotten her septum pierced and several black tattoos—of literal snakes—made their way up her arms. Apparently, she’d really embraced the gorgon in the big city thing.
Was it good to see her? Lettie shrugged. “It’s what people say.”
“Yeah, okay.” Chandler laughed. “Anyway, I’m gonna go.”
“Yeah.” Lettie watched her take a step. Then another. “Hey Chandler, I’m sorry about your grandmother. She was…”
Chandler’s shoulders tightened, but she didn’t turn, just waved a dismissive hand towards Lettie. “It’s whatever. She liked you better anyway.”
This time Lettie let her go. She picked her phone from the sidewalk and put it back in her pocket. Chandler was back in town. Lettie knew she came back sometime, but she’d always avoided her. And that was fine, really it was nothing. When Chandler had left Lettie had spent a week crying and then she’d moved on. She’d found other things to occupy her time, she’d had senior year, girls who hadn’t spent the better part of their life ignoring her. She’d had much more to do than worry about Chandler Hart.
And eventually she’d mostly stopped thinking about Chandler at all. She was a part of the past. Plenty of people moved out of Lilac Lake, even Lettie had thought about it a time or two. She took a breath and headed into the closest door.
“Well, shit. I thought that was you out there,” Margery Price said as the bell above the coffee shop doo
“She screamed at Lorne?” Lettie wished she had kept walking. She would have if she had known Margery was working. It wasn’t that she disliked Margery, it was just that she needed a moment to think and that was not something easily accomplished near someone as talkative as Margery.
“Well, that’s what I heard. I wasn’t there. Been avoiding him, you know.” Unfortunately, Lettie did know, despite her best efforts, the ups and downs of Margery and Lorne. She let Margery keep talking—thought she didn’t have much of a choice—while she browsed the stainless steel mugs. “But something happened at The Three Sisters, I don’t know. I guess he made a joke or something. Said something about the funeral and she just started yelling. I don’t know. I don’t like to gossip.”
“Of course not.”
“Though I heard that there was a commotion at the will reading yesterday. Her mama left in tears—”
“The will reading was yesterday?” Lettie snatched her phone from her pocket and pulled up her emails. Her appointment was definitely today. It was definitely today in ten minutes. She frowned as she said her goodbyes to Margery. She’d made a lot of assumptions when Hillchamp had asked her to come by.
She rushed the three blocks to Hillchamp’s office, a converted house off Sweetwater Street, trying and failing not to let her worries get the better of her. Then she came around a corner and seriously considered turning around. Chandler was standing on the porch, scowling down at her own phone.
-CHAPTER
TWO-
LETTIE SLOWED HER pace, though she wasn’t sure what she was hoping for. But she didn’t want to talk to Chandler, she didn’t have anything to say. What was there even to talk about? Remember how I thought we were falling in love for a month after my junior year of high school and then everything went to shit, and you left forever?
And she really wasn’t holding onto it. She just didn’t want to talk to Chandler either. She liked the town better when she wasn’t running into her high school ex twice in one day.
Something scurried in the bushes outside the lawyer’s office, and Chandler looked down without noticing Lettie. The scowl melted from her face, and she reached over, plucking up a snake. It wound around her wrist, and she brought it to eye level.
Lettie was just a witch, and not a particularly powerful one. And sometimes, just for moments, she was a little jealous of the other supernaturals. Except she knew gorgons got the shit end of it because it was most definitely illegal to turn someone into stone and charming snakes was a cool trick but had few real-world applications. That was the plight of most of the magical inhabitants of Lilac Lake—they had magic, but it was unusable, at least legally speaking.
Chandler let the snake slither off her arm and back down into the shrubbery, and her gaze caught on Lettie. She frowned. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Lettie walked up the porch steps. “Hillchamp said he wanted to meet with me about your grandma’s will.”
Chandler leaned against the porch railing and chuckled, low and ominous. “Oh, that’s rich. But like I said, she always liked you better.”
“That’s not fair, Chandler. You weren’t here. Besides, you have no idea what Hillchamp is going to say.”
“Oh, don’t I?” She raised a single eyebrow. Her grandma Everly had been able to do the same thing.
Lettie almost started to argue, she had opened her mouth to do just that when Hillchamp appeared in the doorway. “Ms. Katz, Ms. Hart, why are you waiting on the porch? Come on in, take a seat!” He ushered them inside and led them to his office.
Everything was dark wood and dark green, like she’d been plunged into some forest. Hillchamp sat behind his desk, but Lettie kept standing. He was a pleasant man, always smiling, always ready to help, but Lettie found him a bit…oily. Smiling too wide, too eager to please. And to be honest, not very good at his job.
He smiled at the two of them from behind his mahogany desk and cleared his throat. “Ladies, why don’t you take a seat.”
Lettie glanced at Chandler to find the gorgon staring at her.
“Ladies…” Hillchamp repeated.
With a scowl, Chandler sat, and Lettie did the same.
“Gonna turn me into stone?” Lettie asked, raising an eyebrow. It was a low blow, but the way Chandler kept looking at her, like she was the one who had done something wrong, struck a nerve. This was her town, and she couldn’t wait for Chandler to be out of it again.
“Screw you.” Chandler shifted in her chair.
“Ladies!” Hillchamp snapped his fingers. “Now, you both stop that right now or I’ll bring your mamas to this meeting.” He waited a beat. “Thank you.” He rested his arms on her desk and leaned forward. “The reason I asked you here was to hopefully avoid a repeat of what happened at the Summer Festival all those years ago.”
Lettie looked down at her hands, remembering the way they had vibrated over a decade ago. It was the most magic she’d ever done, and it had taken years to live the reputation down.
“It was an accident,” Chandler said, her voice sheepish and Lettie was glad to know Chandler was just as embarrassed about that day as she was.
“Yes, but it was quite a big explosion. Town square still isn’t perfectly level.” Hillchamp straightened the papers on his desk and pulled one to the top. “Moving on, and I’ll cut right to the chase, Everly Hart left the Stone and Sorcery Lodge to both of you ladies in equal shares.”
The Stone and Sorcery Lodge was hers? Lettie’s magic shot around her insides like it was the Fourth of July and for once she didn’t bother to fight against it. She’d hoped this was why he’d emailed, but she hadn’t let herself truly believe, hadn’t even mentioned the meeting to her family.
“No.” Chandler braced her arms on the chair and started to stand then plopped back down. “Come on, Mr. Hillchamp. I don’t want the lodge.”
“Well, I do!” Lettie said, straining her neck to see exactly what the paper said. “I’ll take her shares too.”
“Well, I would have to look into that because—”
“No way.” Chandler stood and walked over to the window; her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans.
“You just said you didn’t want it.” Lettie couldn’t believe this. Chandler didn’t care one bit about Lilac Lake or the Lodge. She couldn’t expect Lettie to pay her for it.
“So, you should have it, golden girl?”
“Well…” Hillchamp glanced between the two of them with the look of a man ready to duck for cover under his desk. “It says here that if either party wants to sell within six months, they must pass ownership to the other party. Now, Chandler, you don’t know much about what’s going on around here, but the town’s being bought up. I’m sure your grandmother wanted to avoid that.”
“Is there any way around it?” Chandler turned back towards the office.
“Do you really want to go against your grandmother’s wishes? She loved that Lodge and so did Hattie. And they both loved you.”
The fight seemed to leave Chandler. Her shoulders sagged and she ran her hand through her hair. “I need air.” She left the office and Lettie heard the front door slam.
Hillchamp watched her go and sighed, templing his fingers together on the desk. “I knew this would be a shock. You should know your own grandmother was in on this. It’s why you didn’t get it when she passed. They wanted you two to work together. You know friendship between your families goes back generations.”
Oh, Lettie knew. “And died with mine, apparently.”
Hillchamp chuckled. “The two of you were just girls the last time you saw each other. I think there’s always room for a little grace when you meet someone again.”
Was there? Or did bad blood stay in the system for life? “We can revisit it after the funeral. But I’m taking it.”
“Good.” He smiled. “I hate to see the way the town is going. What investors never realize until it’s too late is that without the small-town charm the tourists leave, and we don’t even have that many tourists to start with. There are a million other supe hot spots and most of them are a lot nicer than here. I suppose that’s part of the problem though, land is still cheap in Lilac Lake.”
