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A Little Night Muse(65)

By:Jessa Slade


                Did he want to know? The tip of the iron spear hovered at her                     breast.

                “Now you’ll know,” she said. “You’ll see what I really am.”

                She took one deep breath, and the iron touched the curve of her                     breast. A twist of smoke marred her skin, then her glamour fell away in a                     blink.

                Dozens of snakes circled her head and shoulders. They struck at                     the spear with sibilant hisses, and it was his turn to recoil.

                Though he pulled out of range, the silky dark locks he had run                     his fingers through did not return. Her serpentine hair writhed around her,                     revealing the delicate pattern of scales that spread over her shoulders and up                     the sides of her neck to her temples.

                She stepped closer, so close the bright scales sent glimmers of                     jeweled color dancing over the spear’s gray iron. His heart pounded and his                     suddenly sweaty grip slipped on the spear, but his gaze locked on the phae before him.

                Behind him, the Queen laughed. “Did you not know the truth of                     your own love, poor man? Every inspiration can turn around and bite you. Which                     is why every musetta is a medusa.” Her laughter edged higher, and the black veins in the white                     marble thickened.

                He dragged his gaze off the hypnotic sway of the snakes to meet                     the phae’s eyes.

                Her emerald eyes sparkled diamond-brilliant with unshed                     tears.

                “Josh...” she whispered.

                He swung toward the Queen, angled the pistol upward, and                     fired.

                The Queen shrieked as the chandelier shattered.

                Pierced by the iron round, the illusion flew apart in a stink                     of ashes. A thousand tiny lights scattered in all directions, chiming like                     miniature cowbells.

                Phae scattered in all directions                     too, with less musical shrieks.

                Josh shoved the pistol into his pants and grabbed Adelyn’s                     hand. The scales across the back of her hand slid under his thumb. “I always                     wondered how fairytale princesses kept their hair so lively and full of                     bounce.”