Free I Married the Third Horseman (Paranormal Romance and Divorce) by Michael Angel Page A

it,
stuffed it into my now stuffed-to-bursting handbag. Said handbag’s
handles were now twisted into a pretzel shape around my shoulder,
but at least I hadn’t lost the damned thing when Mitchel had
pounced after me. “It contains an atomizer filled with the water of
the River Mnemosyne. Quite powerful. Whatever you spray it on, it
will make others forget that the item even exists. You’ll also find
a compact, but I wouldn’t use it for your makeup. Medusa’s last
gaze is contained within the compact’s mirror.”
    “I know about that one,” I said, my breath
puffing from my lungs as if I’d just run a marathon. “I saw Clash of the Titans . The original, the re-make, the
re-imagining of the re-make, the re-boot of the re-imagining…”
    “Then I believe that shall do. And finally,
there is a parchment, contained in a silver scroll tube. Please do
your best not to lose it, darling. It contains the only known copy
of the instructions of a ritual. Specifically, the ritual by which
the union of a mortal and an immortal can at last be
dissolved.”
    “I won’t lose it.”
    “I should hope not. Dora must get these
instructions, to perform this ritual before your husband or his
brothers get their claws back on you. If they recapture you, I
suspect that they will find a way to make your enchantment
unbreakable, even by a fellow immortal.”
    The elevator slowed, and the doors slid open.
Outside, the quartet of security guards snapped to attention as
their employer appeared. A bestial bellow from far above. The
scrape and squeal of bending metal. A twang , and the car
shuddered as we stepped off of it.
    “Get going!” Circe shouted. “We shall buy you
as much time as we can!”
    I squeezed her arm in thanks and ran for my
car. My shoes clacked and scraped on the rough concrete as I
skidded to a stop. Groped for my keys. Threw the door open and my
handbag in the passenger seat.
    A series of snap-crackles . I got in,
shoved the key home and turned it as I watched Circe use a wand
she’d pulled out of her jacket pocket to transform her guards. When
the men had stood a moment before, a pair of tigers, a sleek puma,
and a midnight-black panther ringed the elevator’s exit.
    I winced as a boom echoed through the
garage. A pair of hellishly long taloned hands tore the elevator’s
roof wide open. In a flash, Mitchel erupted from the hole. A roar,
and his bear-tiger form smashed his way out of the cramped confines
of the elevator car and into the garage.
     
     

Chapter Sixteen

     
    I threw my Porsche into reverse as Circe’s
man-animals flung themselves onto Mitchel’s body. Swung the car
around, shifted into drive. The sorceress looked up at me, mouthed
‘go on!’ and plunged into the fray, emerald beams of energy
shooting from the tip of her wand like an Old West six-shooter.
    I floored the gas pedal. Shriek of rubber on
concrete. The lung-choking smell of burning tires flooded the
garage as I accelerated up the spiral ramp and out into the
night.
    After that, I think I just went into
autopilot mode. For the life of me, I can’t imagine how I got out
of the city without a) being stopped for speeding, b) running over
someone, or c) getting nabbed by a supernatural tiger-bear
nightmare of a husband. All I know is that I came to my senses
sometime later, when a truly wicked cramp shot up my calves and
wrists. From driving the past forty, fifty minutes gripping the
wheel and keeping the pedal close to the floor. From the fear which
had kept my muscles tense enough to bounce a quarter off of.
    I looked around. The highway was well and
truly black with the fall of night, and it would have been generous
to say that the road lighting was sparse. Eventually, I passed a
road marker. No listing of nearby exits or towns. Only a metal
rectangle and shield that said: NORTH – INTERSTATE 15.
    I pulled over at the next highway rest stop.
The place was reasonably well lit, and a crisp, refreshing night
breeze had picked up. I