The candles I’ve lit around the bedroom incrementally flicker as she lands, her wings causing a slight disturbance in the air behind the closed French doors.
I step across the room, my black stilettos harsh against the floor as I look down at the black stockings which elongate my already lengthy legs. I sprawl out on the bed, grabbing the string of pearls I’ve got around my neck and draping it through my fingers.
Lying on my stomach, I face the door, ready for her to enter. Grabbing the surround sound remote from the bedside table, I click a single button, allowing the room to fill with the sweet yet sexy melody of Hungry Eyes, Thane’s favourite song.
The frosted glass of the balcony doors swings forward, revealing her.
“What’s all this?” she calls, her voice broken from her too recent transformation. Her skin is pale and milky, tempting me from afar. I gaze up at her through thick lashes.
“An apology… what else?” I purr, crossing my heels behind me as I tilt my head, letting my silken hair fall lusciously over one bare shoulder.
“I see…” Her eyes narrow, and a small smile creeps onto her lips, despite the fact she might try to fight it.
“Come to me,” I command her, beckoning with a single finger draped in dark pearls.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Her eyes blaze, and I lick my bottom lip, watching as she walks with feline grace across the slick stone and over to the sumptuous softness of our bed. Her angular face is erotic in its hunger, in its hardness and softness that roll into one another like a raging storm.
As she treads toward me, her body stiffens visibly before I’ve even laid a finger on her, goosebumps crawling over her flesh and making an only too obvious show of her arousal. I rise so I’m on my knees, meeting her with open arms as she crawls over the velvet sheets.
I waste no time in placing one hand on her breast, and the other on her cheek, wrapping my long fingers around the shell of her ear and burying them in her hair. I pull her luscious lips to mine, inhaling the taste of blackberries and pine like it’s a drug, and I’m addicted.
“Mmm,” I exhale, closing my eyes and running my fingertips down the back of her neck. I let my fingernails trail down her spine, tickling her silken skin and feeling myself becoming wet as I reach the delicious plumpness of her ass. I dig in my nails, pulling her into me and allowing my tongue to explore the inside of her mouth. I groan, and she echoes my pleasure as she falls on top of me. We tumble to the sheets, hair wild around our faces as we remain locked in a passionate stare.
“I haven’t heard the word sorry yet,” she teases, hovering over me and pulling at the red silk holding my bra together. I squirm under her spindled form, looking at her lips and licking my own.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper, eyes widening as she lowers toward me, placing my nipple into her mouth and causing my back to arch beneath the prowess of her ample tongue.
“I’m sorry too… I love you… I’d fall from heaven a million times for these lips. I’d burn for these tits… I’d die for you, Luce.” She circles the outside of my plump breast with her lips, causing the apex between my thighs to burn tenderly with desire. I raise a hand to her collarbone, letting my fingertips trace a path from her throat, down between her breasts and then lower to her thighs. She gasps as I explore her, eyes widening and lips parting in a perfect ‘o’ shape I cannot help but want to devour.
I use my weight and top her, straddling her and discarding my bra by throwing it to the floor. Leaning, I bend over her and bury my fingers into her hair, pulling her head back and licking up the length of her throat. I plant kisses across her skin, a blank canvas for me to paint scarlet with my lust, with my love for her. Her eyes bore into mine, and I feel my hard nipples tracing her body beneath me as my arms curl to hold her in place where my hand slips between her aching wanton thighs.
She’s soaked, and I smile down at her face, at her wild eyes and maddeningly gorgeous lips that constantly call to me as the tide calls to a Psiren. I feel my own arousal becoming more than I can bear but remain in control. This is about her pleasure, not mine. She exclaims a moan, and just as I’m finding a rhythm that I know will make her climax within seconds, her eyes turn wide, startled.
With a jerking motion, she’s upright, breaking the connection between us and scrambling from beneath my touch.
She grabs the knife we use to peel lush, fresh fruit from beside our garnet fruit bowl, catching her breath and appearing partially feral as she stares up at the ceiling like she’s gone slightly mad. She throws it without pause, and as I watch, confused, the blade finds its target and a flailing Gorgonian falls from the ceiling where it has been watching us and to the floor in a scale clad heap. It bleeds out onto the crystal, the camouflage of its skin flickering in and out of existence like an old TV on the fritz.
“Shit!” I exclaim, heart racing. Thane continues to stare up at the ceiling, narrowing her eyes.
“There were more… but they got away,” she growls, and I blanche.
“What the hell is that thing doing in here?” I ask her, and she picks up the fruit knife, which is embedded into the centre of the Gorgonian’s snakelike torso. It squirms, flopping once, then twice, before giving up and lying still. I think it’s dead.
“I don’t know. But I told you this would happen. Gorgon… he’s the fourth Demon Lord to unexplainably get demons into Mortaria in as many days. This is a serious issue. It’s not just a coincidence. We need to find out how they’re getting in. It puts you at risk too. You know he wants you.” She’s flustered, running her hands through her hair, stark naked in the middle of the room.
I reach over to the pillow where I’d left the surround sound remote, turning off the music and killing the mood. Our night of proposed passion is definitely over.
“We need to find Sephy and Haedes. We don’t know where those other demons are headed. They could be looking for her,” I fret, and Thane nods, staring at me with anxious eyes. We both scramble to get dressed, and even though the day should be almost over, it feels like something bad is only just beginning.
No rest for the wicked.
PANDORA
I’ve been waiting for a while, nervous, concerned that the Gorgonian spies will find nothing. I’ve retreated to my quarters, a small, meek offering of a place to call my own, what used to be servant’s quarters for those sinners who were not tortured or eaten by the Demon Lords and their Kindred. I have a single bed and a wardrobe with my gowns, the finest things I own and that I have collected from across the worlds I have visited. My only other possession is the box, which I keep on my person at all times. It’s a complicated little device to be sure, and even now, I’m sure I do not know all of its secrets. It has taken me years to work out how to mentally connect with it, how to recognise its limits and respect them accordingly. It’s taken me a long time to be ready to begin taking my revenge, but now that time is finally here; I’m utterly tired of waiting altogether.
I look up to the ceiling, which is in disrepair, much like every other room in this god forsaken place, to the crimson sky, and find my impatience growing. As though the box can sense this, it heats in my palms as I turn it over in my fingers.
I throw it, and a stark beam of light and heat explodes from one side as a panel opens. Out slither the Gorgonian spies, their skin assimilating to the floor only too seamlessly. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, I really do hate snakes.
“Go, find your master,” I urge them. I’m on my feet in a matter of moments, trailing after the faint outlines of the enormous snake-like demons as they slither through the doorway and out into the chasmic main hall of the building.
I pick up the box, which has tumbled to the floor, on my way out, maintaining pace as they disturb pools of coagulated blood, aiding me in keeping up with them as they drag the fluid along with their underbellies, staining the floor a stale burgundy in wavy lines.
Once they reach the main chamber with the cracked table, I take a seat, waiting for th
em to return. I look around at my reflection in the mirrors, making sure my hair is flawless as I wait on Gorgon.
After a few minutes, from within the emerald light of the Gorgonian wing, Gorgon appears, his pointed, pale face plastered with a mask of wicked intent. I smile.
“So, I’m hoping your expression means that they found something we can use?” I probe him, and he nods.
“Oh yes, Anubis and Osiris. They fear the girl and what her relationship with the half breed might mean. They’re your way in, if any,” he announces, and I smile.
“Well, that’s easy. Anubis and I have quite a bit in common, I’d imagine she’ll be willing to help. Especially when she discovers I’m still alive,” I muse, and Gorgon cocks an eyebrow.
“Old friends, are we?” he enquires, and I nod.
“Yes, she’s a Titan too. She has felt the injustices just as I have. He took away her Kingdom and gave it to Haedes. That’s plenty motivation for her to screw him over,” I snarl, a smile twisting my features into something cruel.
“Very well then. You’d best be on your way. The early bird catches the worm as they say…” Gorgon flutters a graceful hand, and he watches me with a joyous and glowing lime gaze, the reptilian slits of his pupils narrowing.
“I’ll be back before dawn. Don’t wait up,” I say, getting to my feet and leaving the room in a grand stride. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away, grasping the box once more in my palm, and a shiver runs up my spine. Whether it be his raw power or the fact he seems not to underestimate me the way the other Demon Lords do, I can’t help but enjoy his gaze on me.
I look back over my shoulder, giving him a sly glance as I throw the box up into the air and visualise Anubis’ face before I step through, the golden whirring of the portal surrounding me as I make my way to bargain with a woman who has lost just as much as I, if not more.
I don’t have to wait long, shielded from view in the shadow of one of the many thick golden pillars that line the walls of The Icon’s throne room… well, I say throne room. It once held a throne, but that throne has since been destroyed, along with Anubis’ entitlement to rule this place alone.
I watch as she and her son sit down to dinner; a gargantuan, and once again gold, dining table spanning the entire length of the room. They are attended by sinners of envy, gluttony and avarice, who are shirtless and adorned in only fabric wraps around their genitals or breasts and sinstones hanging around their necks. This place has certainly remained timeless in its attire.
From the left side of the table, I watch as three Jackals bound down one of the twisting corridors and toward the table, no doubt wanting to share in the meal. As plates, steaming high with fine cuts of meat, are delivered, and Anubis and Osiris take golden cutlery in hand, the Jackals start to growl, the black sheen of their coats turning gold at the overwhelming and rich glow of the surrounding room. I step out into the glow of Eternal Flames, and the Jackals go wild, bearing their teeth and rushing toward me. I raise both my hands, an indication that I wish to get into no kind of fight. God knows I could not rival either Osiris or Anubis, in battle, not with the loss of my Titan powers.
At the sight of my intrusion, Anubis and Osiris rise to their feet. Anubis’ dark hair tumbles in a waterfall of black, draped in gold chains which act as a casual headpiece. Her dark eyes narrow, and as the Jackals near me, she clicks her fingers.
“Stop,” she barks, the three animals heeling immediately, no question in their tiny minds who the master here is. The sinners who are standing around the corners of the room have begun to close in, ready to defend the two Egyptian Titans made flesh. They are much slower than the dogs, perhaps even slower than Anubis herself, which makes them utterly useless if you ask me.
“Pan… Pandora? Is that you?” Anubis looks into my face, her eyes reflecting utter shock back at me. Osiris is on his feet too, face comically clueless.
“Mother, what is the meaning of this?” he demands, sounding pompous in his ignorance.
“Yes, Nu. It is I.” I smile at her, and she comes forward, putting her arms around me.
“Praise Ra! I never thought I’d see the day! How on earth… how in the Heavens did you get here?” she enquires, looking to me and then to her son. “This is Pandora; she was a Kindred, just like I was. She, too, has been cast aside by the likes of Zeus,” she explains, and Osiris looks dazed, a little unimpressed actually, as he slumps down into his seat again and takes a sip of wine from the golden goblet in front of him.
“Take a seat; dine with us.” Anubis snaps her fingers and orders the sinners to fetch a spare plate. I take a seat at her table, coughing and feeling out of place in such grand surroundings. It’s been so long since I sat in a chair like this.
“So, when Zeus refused my application to be on the Aetherial Court, he gave me this box… well, it’s not really a box at all; it’s actually a portal that was made from the wood of trees in the Othrysian Orchards. It allows me to travel anywhere I choose in The Lower Plains. I ended up here at first, but I’ve been around since,” I express, not giving away too many details.
“I see, that’s wonderful for you,” Anubis replies, taking a seat, the glistening gold of her gown melding seamlessly into the chair, making it appear as if she’s merely a head and arms.
“It is. I was saddened to hear of you losing rulership over this place though…” I take a purposeful sip of the wine in front of me, looking at her over the rim of the glass with pity in my stare. I know it irks her.
“Yes, well, we’re all very democratic here now. It’s become quite the way of life,” she explains in a tone void of emotion. Hushing the jackals which snap at her heels, begging for scraps as their bejewelled collars clash against one another, emitting a slight metallic ringing into the air. She waits for my reply.
“I see, you sound thrilled.” I smirk at her as a thin man places down a golden plate of lamb in front of me. The smell of it makes me salivate, but I don’t take a bite, not yet.
“I am… making do.” Anubis looks at me and then at Osiris.
“It is just such a shame for Osiris; he has never reached his fullest potential,” she sighs, taking a bite of her food and chewing thoughtfully. I watch her, her slender golden arms and thin face, beautiful.
We’re all so beautiful, the ones they chose. It is a shame that beauty was not enough to stop us being discarded.
“So, what brings you here?” Osiris asks, interjecting between our small talk. Anubis is no fool; she knows I have an agenda, but it seems that her son lacks such tact.
“I have a little proposition for you.” I announce, and Anubis looks intrigued.
“I’m listening.” She takes a fork full of buttered green beans and stuffs them into her mouth.
“I’m working on… well, let’s just say that I’m working on helping the Demon Lords survive. Let’s just say you and I have some concerns in common. Or so a little birdie tells me,” I explain, and she narrows her eyes.
“Go on.”
“Her name is Persephone Sinclair. We have heard of the prophecy, the prophecy of the Phoenix, the Chimera. Quite frankly, the Demon Lords are concerned as well. She is a risk. One they don’t want left unchecked.” I word my proposal carefully; she need not know that I intend to take back the Demon Lords hunting grounds, nor need she know that I’m using her. She needs merely know that right now, our agendas line up.
“I see. Well, that’s difficult.” Anubis looks to me and then to her son.
“How so?” I ask, and she shrugs.
“The girl is well protected, and as my colleague so rightfully pointed out, there is no reason to believe that The Fates aren’t seeing something which will not come to pass. You know as well as I that visions of the future are rarely certain, especially now they’ve been banished from The Higher Plains. She and the demon-halfling are merely friends. If that. Once you stop hunting her, I’m sure they will part ways, and she will go on with her mortal life. She need not be a threat to us.”
&nbs
p; I frown, Anubis has become comfortable in her age, a fat cat upon a gilded golden pillow who refuses to budge. The sparkling blue eyeliner, which rims her dark eyes, glistens as she tilts her head, waiting for my response, and the enormous golden earrings which hang from her petite earlobes tinkle against her jaw.
“I see. Well, I just thought we might be able to rid ourselves of the problem together. But if you believe she truly is no threat, then I suppose that’s fair enough.” I don’t want to push my luck with her; after all, I don’t need her asking questions about my relationship with the Demon Lords. Her expression is slightly stiff, stony even, and I watch her as she swallows deeply.
“Why don’t you just stop hunting her? I have no doubt she’d return to the mortal plain. Problem solved.” Osiris interjects, and I look at him, readying to put this idea to rest once and for all.
“We cannot simply leave a demi-goddess out there unchecked. Having her return to the mortal plain is to leave a weapon in plain sight with little or no protection for anyone who plans to use it. She might have been safe before her trial, before the prophecy, but now the information is out, she’s too dangerous to be left alive.”
“It’s you, isn’t it? It’s you who’s been letting the demons into Mortaria. With that box of yours.” Anubis is accusatory in her tone, but I merely smile.
“Perhaps.”
“You must not want to be involved with the Demon Lords, Pandora. Their time has long since passed. They worship gods who are long since dead to us and banished. If you want a cause worth fighting for, the Demon Lords are not where to find it. I promise you.” She’s lecturing me like she’s my mother, or one of them, one of the pure. Either way, she’s acting like she knows better. Time has surely not made her meek or humble. Instead, her arrogance grows into that of those she once so loathed.
The Opal Blade (The Ashen Touch Trilogy Book 1) Page 30
