Iniquity (The Ascent Book 1)

by Melody Winter

  JUST AS MY KNUCKLES WERE about to meet the wood, the door creaked open. I stepped back, quick to retreat from the tall, shadowy figure who stood before me.

  Paymon.

  He wasn’t wearing his cloak, and from this close, it was clear to see his short black hair shot with streaks of grey. He had a darkness under his eyes that hinted at many sleepless nights—if indeed demons slept.

  “Athena.” His voice was rich and deep, reminding me of the only other time he had spoken to me. He peered behind me before opening the door wider. “Come in.”

  I took a deep breath and steadied myself before stepping into the hall. I kept my gaze fixed on Paymon, not trusting him.

  “I’ve been keeping a very close eye on you these last few years,” he said.

  “Me?”

  He nodded, his parted lips curled into a smile. It didn’t seem genuine, like it hurt to move his muscles.

  Just before he closed the door, a raven flew inside. It soared high into the hall before swooping low and settling on the balustrade of the staircase. I recognised the bird as the one that brought me the letter—it had the same single white feather in its chest. I backed away from its presence, as unsure of the raven as I was of Paymon.

  “Lantern,” Paymon said, holding his hand in my direction.

  I unwrapped my fingers, one by one, from the cold handle and handed him the light that had guided me to this house.

  He blew the candle out and placed the lantern on the floor next to the door.

  “And your cloak.” He waited for me to part with the tatty covering. “You don’t need it here.”

  His black cloak hung on a hook next to the door, and after I’d shrugged out of my dirty brown one, he placed it over his.

  “Follow me.” He strode past where I was standing and headed across the hall.

  I frowned, noticing how he walked with ease. The ungainly limp he displayed when I’d seen him come to the village wasn’t present. I glanced quickly around the hall, familiarising myself with as much of the layout of the house as possible.

  There were two doors to my left and one to my right. All the walls had wood panelling. Sconces hung on every other panel and held candles that flickered with varying brightness. A grand staircase rose toward the back of the hall before flowing into a sweeping curve and disappearing from view.

  “Where are we going?” Hannah told me she stood in the hall. She didn’t follow him further into the house.

  He stopped walking and turned to face me. His forehead creased with lines as he spoke.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Hannah—”

  “Has been discussing what happened while she was here? It doesn’t surprise me.” He took a step toward me, and even though I wanted to back away, I held my ground. “What did she tell you?”

  “That you stayed in the hall.” My voice quivered. He was too close. I could feel the heat radiating from his body. The evidence of his power seemed to resonate around him. I swallowed as he leaned forward, and prayed he couldn’t hear my racing heart.

  “There was no need for me to discuss anything with her,” he said. “Her categorisation was set several weeks ago, unlike yours, which was set years ago.” He spun around and indicated for me to walk in front of him along the dark corridor.

  I didn’t move. The decision was meant to be a recent one, one that was based on our current suitability.

  “Athena, I understand your hesitancy, but I wish you no harm. I merely feel you would be more comfortable having a conversation whilst sitting. We have a lot to discuss.”

  “We do?”

  He nodded, indicating with a sweep of his arm for me to start walking. When I still didn’t move, he sighed. “Your obstinacy is charming, but I will soon tire of it. And I won’t keep repeating myself.” His brown eyes darkened but caught the reflection of the flickering candles. “Follow me. Now.”

  As he walked, he clicked his fingers several times. I flinched when small balls of flame shot to the candles. He must have noticed my unease.

  “Don’t panic, Athena. I’m only lighting the way for us to walk. Or would you prefer the dark?”

  I took a deep calming breath.

  “It’s an ancient power,” he said, as if discussing an everyday occurrence.

  I didn’t care that it was ancient. I’d seen what Paymon did with fire.

  I trudged behind him, determined to keep my distance. “Can all demons do that?” I asked. The woman demon he had incinerated didn’t appear to have any power. If she had, I was sure she would have attempted to defend herself when he attacked her.

  Paymon shook his head and stopped walking. “No, but we all have some sort of power, all different.”

  “What other powers do demons have?” I breathed heavily.

  He fixed me with his gaze. “Why do you want to know?”

  I stepped back, he was too close again, drinking me in with his piercing eyes.

  “I’m interested,” I managed to say, although my words were barely a whisper.

  “Really?” His brow rose and the corner of his mouth twitched into a tiny smile. “Then you need to keep listening.”

  He turned his back to me. My posture stiffened and I pinched my lips together.

  Paymon stopped next to a large wooden door. He pushed it open and waited for me to enter. I hesitated before stepping inside, startling when flames shot past me to light the group of candles on the table. The room was small; it smelt stuffy and old, and I wondered when it had last been used.

  “Sit.” His tone was sharp.

  As I moved to sit on the chair, he closed the door behind him and made his way to the opposite side of the table. “Before we begin with your categorisation, I need to tell you a few things.”

  I nodded, torn between taking in my surroundings and not taking my eyes off him. But my eyes were glued to his, like I’d been hypnotised. I blinked rapidly, fighting the overpowering sensation with the urgency to look away.

  “First, you need to know that you will not be returning to the village tonight.” His face held no flicker of emotion. He was delivering an order with no room for discussion. He grinned salaciously as he lowered himself into a chair opposite mine. “You will stay here.”

  The wood of the chair dug into my skin as I squeezed the edge of it. My chest tightened and it became difficult to take a breath. “I’m not willing to stay here,” I gasped. “I’ll be returning whether you want me to or not.”

  “Silence!” he roared, banging his fist on the table as he jumped to his feet.

  My heart leapt into my mouth and I shook as he glared at me, shrinking into my chair.

  He drew in a breath before returning to his composed, seated position. “When I am speaking, you remain quiet. And when I tell you to do something, you will do it. Understand?”

  I nodded, assuming it to be the only safe way to response.

  He leaned across the table and tapped his fingers on the wood. “I have no need to interview you today.” His tongue licked his lips. “I can taste you. Oh, the Master would love you. What he would do . . .” He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “He would be pleased with me for presenting him with a girl like you.”

  I immediately grasped his inference. My pulse raced and I shifted in my chair, choking down an audible whimper. All the rumours I’d heard in the village became a frightening reality. I stared wide-eyed at him, unable to look away.

  Paymon’s eyes snapped open. Black orbs met mine. Even though there were no pupils to see, I knew he was staring. The shadows cast around the room set his facial features as an eerie effigy, a frightening reminder of the true creature before me.

  Panic shot through me, and I backed away from the table, the legs of my chair scraping on the wooden floor. A slow grimace pulled at the corners of Paymon’s mouth. Gone was the old man. I was now witnessing the true demon that lurked under the surface.

  I sprung to my feet. The chair tipped over and crashed backward. I had to get out
of here.

  “Athena!” Paymon shouted.

  I rushed to the door and pulled at the handle.

  “Athena. Sit down.”

  I turned the handle, rattling it up and down, but it wouldn’t open.

  “Don’t make me compel you to sit down!”

  I stilled. I’d heard rumours of the way demons could compel humans. I turned to face him. My breathing was short and shallow, and tears flooded my eyes as I looked around the room for another way of escape. I didn’t want to stay in here with him. All the stories I’d heard rushed through my mind. This is what they meant. I was going to be a sacrifice to the Master.

  Paymon rose to his feet, and my attention swung to him as he walked around the table.

  “Stay there,” I mumbled, waving my hands in front of me. “Don’t come near me.” My voice was weak, pathetic.

  “Athena, I have already promised I will not hurt you. Why have you reacted so strongly?”

  “You said . . . the Master . . . what he would do to me . . .”

  He offered a strained smile. It looked surreal with his black eyes. “We need to carry on our conversation.”

  “But you said . . . and your eyes?” I pointed at the greedy, guilty orbs.

  “I suspect they’ve changed colour. They’re black.”

  “Yes.”

  “A demon’s eyes change colour depending on their mood and their hunger.” He narrowed his gaze. “You will need to get used to my eyes being black. It is your fault they are this colour.”

  “What you’re saying is ridiculous,” I said.

  Paymon replaced my upturned chair.

  “I can’t change people’s eye colour.”

  “Yes, you can.” Paymon returned to his side of the table. “Demons gain strength from emotions.”

  “What? How?” I waved my hand in the general direction of his head. Was this common knowledge? Why hadn’t I known this before I came here? Why hadn’t Gran told me?

  “There’s a lot for you to learn,” Paymon said, watching me with an un-nerving steadiness.

  Turning away from his gaze, I looked around the room. It was small, the table and two chairs the only furniture. The five flickering candles on the table cast unworldly shadows across the walls, dancing devils that never stilled. The door was to one side of me and a long patterned curtain to the other. It wasn’t a rug like the ones at home, but a proper curtain—one that draped and tumbled onto the wooden floor. Three walls were panelled in wood and held no decorations, but the lower wall behind Paymon had a large stone fireplace, sitting dark and cold. Hanging above the unlit fireplace was a single framed picture of the head and shoulders of a man.

  “Who’s that?” I asked, inclining my head to the picture and sliding back into my chair.

  Paymon raised his brow before answering me. “The Master,” he said without even looking at the painting.

  I narrowed my eyes, trying to take in the detail of a man I would soon see first-hand. He looked normal, a bit old, but not as old as Paymon. His hair was dark, short, and he wore stubble where his beard would have been.

  “So that’s who you’re going to send me to?” He didn’t look evil, far from it. He actually looked quite handsome, although there was something sinister about his deep-set hazel eyes.

  Paymon tapped his fingers on the table, diverting my attention back to him.

  “If I categorised you, I should send you to him.” He kept his gaze on me, then sighed deeply and closed his eyes. “My recommendation is that you should be wed to him. He would appreciate a woman like you as a wife.”

  “A wife?” I leaned back in my chair and bit back the rising nausea in my stomach. I’d visualised that I’d be a sacrifice, and now I was to be a wife . . . of a demon? “I don’t want to be married to him. I don’t want to be married to anyone.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Not even Thomas?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and didn’t reply. Paymon’s jaw tightened and he leaned forward.

  “He has nothing to do with this.” I smoothed my shaking hands over the skirt of my dress.

  He increased the drumming of his fingers on the table.

  “So you’re categorising me as a wife for the Master.” I straightened my back and swept my arms in front of me. “That’s it. No choice?”

  “I decide your categorisation—no argument, no discussion, but this time . . .”

  I was prepared to ask him to let me be a feeder. It was what I’d promised Hannah. We could spend our ten years together, help each other survive, but I held my question.

  He ceased tapping his fingers. The warm air in the room turned cold. “I would like to ask for your hand in marriage.”

  My stomach churned and then tightened. “You?”

  “Yes, me.”

  “But you’re . . . you’re . . . old.” I shuddered, thinking of what Hannah had said. Demons were highly sexed, demanding. Is that why he wanted to marry me? He wanted my body to play with.

  Paymon laughed, the sound eerie and distant.

  “Why me?” I asked, covering my chest with my arms. “Why didn’t you want to marry Hannah?” She’d be willing, she’d welcome a demon lover—she’d admitted it just this morning.

  His laughing immediately stopped. “Hannah is not worthy of marrying anyone. Why on earth would I want her?”

  “She’s pretty,” I replied. Her long blonde hair always ensured she was the centre of attention. I also knew she’d had a secret relationship with one of the more mature men in the village. Age didn’t bother her.

  “Pretty? You think I’m bothered about someone being pretty?”

  “She’s popular, a good cook,” I continued.

  Paymon shook his head.

  “Athena, ever since you turned sixteen, I have waited for you.”

  I shuddered again and leaned back in my chair, putting as much visible distance between him and me.

  “Do you recall the time I came to the village and set fire to one of the houses?” He had a lightness about his question, one that was glaringly out of place as he spoke about a fire he had intentionally started.

  “You constantly set fire to the houses,” I said, moving my hands from my knee to the chair. I sat on them to try to stop their constant shaking. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “It was the first time I saw you. When you shot out of your house to rescue your grandmother.”

  A lump built in my throat, and I stared at the table, not looking at him. I remembered that day all too clearly. “That was the day you killed her.” I sounded like a man, my voice raw and deep.

  “That’s when I felt you making me strong. I latched on to your emotions.” He spoke quickly, his enthusiasm brimming away like a pan of boiling water. “It’s rare that it happens, that a demon finds a human who he can latch onto so strongly. And just because I find your emotions particularly strong doesn’t mean that another demon will.”

  “You killed Gran,” I repeated, not interested in his theories on my emotions. “Why? She was no danger to you.”

  “A gossiping old woman who knew too much and was no use to the Master was of no use to me.”

  I placed my elbows on the table and covered my face with my hands. He didn’t have any remorse about murdering her. And here he was, wanting to marry me. I would take no part in it.

  “You could have left her alone. Told her to step down as the village elder. You had no need to kill her.”

  He lifted his chin and smirked. “Now, now, Athena. I am a demon, a man with no morals. She wasn’t needed. The village shouldn’t have to support the weakest.” He paused, and smoothed the front of his shirt before clearing his throat. “I also struck a deal with your grandmother that day.”

  I slid my hands from my face and hugged myself. I knew they’d been talking about me, but I thought it had been about serving him at the village feast. Apparently not. I clenched my jaw, preparing for the revelation. “What was the deal?”

  “Your grandmother knew ho
w strong your emotions were in feeding me, she’d witnessed it.” He stopped talking, his mouth twitching at the side. “She asked me what I would categorise you as when you turned twenty-one. You are suitable for the Master, as one of his wives.”

  “But you just said you wanted to marry me.”

  “That was the deal. She asked me to save you from the Master, to take you as my wife instead. I wanted to take you there and then, but she persuaded me to wait until you turned twenty-one. And twenty-one is an age when all females blossom from a child into a woman.”

  I stared at him, open-mouthed as he talked with unabashed glee and excitement.

  “I should send you to the Master,” he said. “But I am going keep you for myself and uphold my end of the bargain with your grandmother.”

  I shivered as the cold hard truth hit me. Gran had promised me to a demon, and he was about to claim his prize.

  “She’s dead,” I said, seeing a slight glimmer of hope in the tragedy. “It’s not as if she’ll know whether you marry me or not.”

  “I am aware of that.” His voice held no emotion. “But I still intend to honour my side of the deal.”

  I lowered my head, and rubbed my arms. “Can I refuse to marry you?”

  “I have left you alone for the last five years. You could at least show some gratitude.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Did he really expect me to be grateful? “If you really care about me then just send me back to the village. Say I wasn’t suitable. Let me live in the village as a free woman.”

  “A free woman?” He snorted. “You’re never free, Athena. You know the women who stay in the village are expected to breed.”

  “Seems a better alternative than marriage either to you, or him.” I nodded at the portrait on the wall.

  He studied me for a few moments.

  “Let me explain the situation you face if you stay in the village.” He leaned forward as if he was about to share another great secret. “It’s not the nice alternative you seem to think it is. I grant my villagers the privilege of one year to produce a child before I intervene.” He sighed again and rubbed the back of his neck. “I presume you would be planning on Thomas being the father of your children?”