He slipped away from between my legs and removed each fabric shoe and long sock before placing them in the bowl with my clothes. Standing, he held the bowl in one hand and produced a flame from the fingers on his other. He blew the flame to the bowl and watched as my clothes burnt with flames. I focused on them, seeing them change from orange and red, to blue and white. The flames died and Paymon placed his hand into the bowl. He retrieved a white bundle of material which he immediately unwrapped and held in front of him. It was a dress, plain white fabric—my wedding dress.
“Eye-eh-em-jad.” He indicated for me to stand, a curl of his finger.
I looked at my hands before frowning at him. Did he mean for me to release my grip on the metal rings?
He curled his finger at me again, and I stumbled to my feet. Acutely aware of my nakedness as I stood before him, I covered my breasts with my arms. Paymon shook his head and stepped forward. He grabbed my arms and positioned them by my sides before manoeuvring me into the centre of the circle. He was so much stronger than me, and the power that I’d felt flow from him when I first arrived seemed even greater at the moment. My limbs began to shake again, and I feared how much longer this would continue.
He placed a kiss on my forehead and resumed his chanting, this time louder than before. I welcomed his mysterious words and the accompanying loss of my crushing fear. Hopefully this would be the end of the ceremony, a final chant to seal our marriage, and then we could leave the room.
Paymon placed the white dress over my head, and I slipped my arms into the sleeves, grateful of the soft covering of fabric, regardless as to what it stood for.
Once the dress was in place, Paymon closed his eyes. I stared at him, trying to work out what would happen next.
My eyes widened as another glint of the knife caught my eye. Paymon cut the palm of his right hand before taking hold of my right hand. In an action so quick I didn’t see it happen, he sliced my palm with the knife. Pain—searing, screaming pain spread through my hand as blood oozed from the deep cut. Paymon pressed his cut palm against mine. My vision clouded as our blood mixed. My mind failed to function, and my mouth moved of its own accord. Words I never knew to exist sprung from me as I wavered between consciousness and unconsciousness. My voice wasn’t my own, and I was speaking in a language I had no knowledge of, matching Paymon’s chant word for word.
When our synchronised chanting stopped, a renewed pain skewered my hand. I screamed and tried to pull my hand away from Paymon’s. The icy, sharp, stabbing pain wasn’t from the cut, though—it was from the back of my hand. It felt as if shards of glass were being drawn across it. Like an insect crawling between layers of my flesh, the skin on the back of my hand lifted in a red, raised pattern. Paymon held my hand tightly, refusing to let go as the mark continued to grow.
“Please,” I said. “Please, it hurts . . . so much.”
I slumped against Paymon, but he still refused to relinquish his hold. Time held no meaning as I whimpered and begged against his chest.
When Paymon scooped me into his arms, I curled into him, welcoming his hold. He moved forward, entered the circle and stopped in the centre of the pentagram. The edge of the circle burst into flames, and I clung even tighter to him, burying myself in his jacket. The flames roared and crackled around us; their heat licked my flesh and overheated my body, but Paymon held me securely against him.
When the roar of the fire stopped, the ferocious flames disappeared. The light in the room restored to the recessed flickering candles. Paymon kept me in his arms as he crossed the room and carried me up the stairs. I was grateful that he didn’t make me walk. I had no energy left to even stand, and my limbs shook and ached. My skin prickled with beads of sweat, and my stomach heaved. I turned my head to the side and groaned as my stomach tried to empty itself.
“Stop it. We’ll have none of that.” Paymon’s stern voice broke through my stupor. But as I tried to focus on him, my peripheral vision spun. I closed my eyes, too dizzy to keep them open.
A familiar squawk signified Odin’s presence.
“She’ll be fine,” Paymon said. “The ceremony has exhausted her. She’ll need time to recover.”
I was placed on a comfy surface, and a soft blanket was thrown over me.
“Odin, go fetch some soup from Myrtle.” His footsteps brushed across the carpet. “Take this note with you, she’ll know who it’s for and why it’s needed.” More footsteps, fading, quieter. The front door was opened, a welcoming blast of cold air kissed my overheated skin. Another loud squawk sounded before the heavy beating of wings gradually faded. The click of the door closing was quickly followed by Paymon’s return to the room.
“Sleep, Athena. I’ll sit with you whilst you do. You’ll come to no harm now we are married.”
Aware of the rustling of clothes as Paymon fidgeted in his chair, I tried to block out the imagery of what had just happened.
I was a married woman.
Married to Paymon.
Married to a demon.
“EAT,” PAYMON SAID.
I opened my eyes. He was holding a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other.
“You need to eat. You’re exhausted,” he said, lifting the spoon to my mouth. “You’ve been asleep for several hours.”
He pushed the spoon gently against my lips, and I opened my mouth. The broth was warm and smooth—a velvety texture that slipped easily down my throat. I focused on Paymon whilst I ate. His normal brown eyes stared back at me, although the iris was outlined in a thick black line.
Another spoonful pressed against my lips.
“Chicken soup,” Paymon announced. “It should help ease the tiredness.”
“Chicken?” I asked after swallowing another mouthful of the tasty liquid. “We’re not allowed chicken.” In the village we only ate chickens on the night of a full moon when the feasts were held.
“Athena, remember who you are married to. You can have chicken everyday now if you wish.” He offered the bowl to me to hold.
I gripped the bowl with one hand, but a mark on the back of my other hand caught my eye. It resembled the markings on the floor in the room we’d been married in. The lines were black, raised, with an angry redness still evident underneath. As I took the spoon from Paymon, I winced. My palm stung, and I turned my hand over to inspect it. The single cut Paymon had made during the ceremony was very prominent.
“The cut will heal quickly, and the mark of marriage will not be sore for long,” Paymon said, guessing my concerns. “In fact, yours will heal quicker than mine.” He held his right hand toward me, palm upward showing the single cut, and then turned it. He had exactly the same mark as I did on the back of his hand.
“Why will mine heal faster than yours?” I asked as Paymon nodded at the bowl reminding me to eat.
“You’re young and not a demon.”
I frowned as I swallowed.
Paymon pulled his chair closer to where I was sitting.
“I’m old, Athena,” he said as he sat down, “although your emotions are feeding me and giving me a new lease of life. Have you noticed that I don’t limp anymore? That happened as soon as you arrived yesterday. I was surprised by how quickly I reacted to your presence.”
“I did that?”
Paymon grinned. “You did so much more. Now, you can’t reverse time, make me younger or revive me if I die, but I am stronger and feel like I did thirteen years ago when I came to live on this world. But I am also a demon, not that you need reminding, and we heal slowly. A cut can take weeks, not days to heal. Many demons can die from injuries that humans simply endure.”
I eyed him suspiciously. As interesting as this was, I couldn’t understand why was he telling me. I nodded, storing the information for future recall.
“Obviously, I have an immunity to fire, and most other demons have some sort of tolerance for it.”
“You told me that other demons have powers,” I said, focusing on the only other piece of information I had about thei
r secret lives.
Paymon nodded.
“What power does the Master have?” I guessed it would be something really powerful or a mix of several different ones.
Paymon smirked before replying. “He can take the form of anyone he touches.”
His words made me freeze.
“As long as he has touched the flesh of another. It could be your face, your hand. And he need not touch you with his hand. His cheek against yours, his arm brushing against you. It’s a gift that gives him ultimate power.”
“Can he only change into another demon?”
Paymon shook his head. “No, he can change into anyone, anything, male or female.”
I shuddered.
“I’ve never met him, but I believe his normal appearance is the one in the portrait.” He smiled again, reaching for my right hand. “This mark proves to others that you are married.”
“It hurt,” I mumbled, pulling my hand away from his and continuing to eat the soup.
“It must have been incredibly painful for you. I thought for a moment I had lost you—you nearly fainted.” He shook his head before looking at me. “I have never been stronger than I was when we were experiencing the full force of the marriage ceremony. But the ceremony, the stress of what has happened since yesterday—it’s all taken a toll on you.”
“So why didn’t you stop?”
“Stop? I didn’t want to. I took every emotion you gave me, more than necessary, but . . . Athena, I live for that feeling every day. And I will continue to seek it from you.”
I widened my eyes. “You mean you enjoy my pain?”
He frowned. “No. I enjoy your heightened emotions, be it fear, pain, jealousy, hate. But I would like to feed from your positive emotions.” He reached his hand to the side of my face and rested it against my cheek. “Joy, happiness, contentment, perhaps even love.”
I froze, a reaction I was becoming accustomed to in his presence.
“You can feed from positive emotions?”
He nodded. “I feel too much fear coming from you, Athena. What can I do to change that?” He removed his hand and leaned away from me. “I promised you I would look after you. I will also provide you with whatever you desire, as long as it is within my powers. You have already done more for me than I could’ve ever wished for.”
“Why are your eyes not black?”
“They are, around the edges.”
“What does that mean?”
“That I am full. A stuffed, overindulged, fed demon.” He chuckled quietly. “Talking of food, have you had enough, or do I need to send for more?”
“I’m fine. A bit thirsty, though.”
“I always have water to drink,” he said, striding to a long table at the side of the room. He poured me a glass of water. “Unfortunately it will always be warm.”
“Like the water in my bath?”
“Not quite. I ensure that is kept at a temperature that will be most comfortable for you.” He handed me the glass of water, and I sipped at the liquid—warm, as he said.
“Perhaps you would bathe tonight and dress in something more suitable for our day tomorrow? You have a cupboard full of dresses. Each one was made especially for you. Wear one of them.”
I spluttered but managed to swallow the water. The dresses were mine? Those beautiful, soft dresses belonged to me?
“I can’t wear them. They’re too grand for me,” I said. “I’m just a village girl.”
Paymon narrowed his gaze. “No, you are not. You are no longer the village girl. You are my wife.” He paused for a few moments. “Anyway, what else do you have to wear?”
I glanced at the dress I was currently wearing. “What’s wrong with—?”
I stopped my sentence as I saw the trails of dark crimson on my white dress.
“That is your wedding dress. It’s not suitable for tomorrow and definitely not suitable for the Ascension Ceremony.”
My curiosity rose. Paymon was chatting away, quite unassuming about the information he was giving me. “Why not the ceremony?”
“Because both Hannah and Julie will be wearing white, you must not. It dictates that you are to be taken to the Master. It gives the illusion of cleanliness and of purity. Traits that the Master adores. Although they will not arrive as pristine as they look when they leave here. And, as you well know, white is the last colour Hannah should be wearing.” He smirked as he returned to the counter at the side of the room and poured himself a drink.
I didn’t like the reminder of Hannah’s infidelities and decided that today had been long enough. I wanted to have a soak in the warm water upstairs.
“Do I still have the key to my room?”
“Of course,” Paymon said, lifting his glass to his lips, an amused look pulling across his face.
“Then may I go to my room?”
“Athena, you have no need to ask my permission to go to your room. And if I recall correctly, you never asked my permission earlier when you practically ran away from me.”
I looked to the floor, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Really?” Paymon frowned as he marched across the room toward me. “You feel the need to apologise to me for your behaviour?”
I nodded, keeping my gaze on the floor.
Warm fingers nudged under my chin, and I lifted my face to be met by Paymon’s puzzled expression.
“You are the first woman to ever apologise to me,” he said.
“Then you haven’t met many decent ones.”
He narrowed his gaze and then chuckled.
“No, I don’t think I have.” He held my chin, his fingers light in their touch as his eyes bore into mine. And then his demeanour altered. His eyes widened, and he practically snarled. “I bid you good night, Athena.” He removed his fingers and turned his back to me.
“N . . . night,” I stuttered. I didn’t wait for him to say anything else and fled the room as quickly as I had earlier today.
Odin was nowhere to be seen as I climbed the stairs, and I found myself missing his encouraging squawks and flapping of feathers.
When I entered my room, I immediately locked the door. Even though Paymon had seen me naked, I didn’t want him barging in on me whilst I bathed. I shuddered when I recalled the wedding ceremony. My fears had somehow guided me through the bulk of it, my heightened emotions suppressed whilst in the room. I stared at the back of my hand and traced the pentagram with my finger. The redness was fading faster than the memory.
I pulled all the curtains shut before turning to the bath. Someone, and I had no doubt who it was, had scattered red rose petals on the surface. My skin prickled, and I leaned away from the water. This was something I imagined a lover would do, not a carer. The rose petals threw numerous doubts into my head, nagging ones that I kept trying to suppress.
I stood tall, peeking over the screen that divided the room, checking to see if Paymon had magically walked through the door. He’d said he was a fire demon, but I had no idea if he had other powers as well. The air hung thick and heavy as a chill of realisation shot through me. I knew nothing about this new life, nothing at all.
Glancing back to the tub I tried to ignore the overwhelming desire to soak in the hot water, to scrub myself clean from the feel of his hands on my naked flesh. But after several nervous glances to the door, the pull of the warm water was too great. I lifted my dress over my head and stepped into the waiting tub. I sunk onto my bottom and let the heat of the sweet smelling liquid surround me.
It didn’t take long for the relaxing warmth of the water to lull me into a peaceful state of mind. Was this my life now? I felt like the lady of the manor from hundreds of years ago, when large houses had servants and maids to look after them. I’d been born way after that period in history. Gran said I’d been born in 2035, on the twenty-fourth of February. Back then, people lived in large houses, with glass windows and heat, and even items that kept you cool when it was too hot. So
many everyday items needed electricity to work. I could hardly believe the things Gran had told me about: communication through tiny metal things called phones, boxes that connected you to instant information, moving pictures, music, you could even communicate with other people around the world. To me, it seemed we became too clever, ignoring the forces around us—the natural occurrences. We somehow upset the balance. We weren’t completely blameless in the demons’ ascent. They had waited for an opportune moment to rise from the depths of the earth, and our self-centred way of life, our selfish actions to those around us, had given them the perfect opportunity. Gran had said that the natural disasters started to increase in frequency when she was a child. Earthquakes rocked cities that had never experienced their frightening power. Large waves travelled across the oceans, killing thousands of people who lived along the coast. Volcanoes, dormant for thousands of years, began spewing lava and clouds of dust. And all of these events were warnings, warnings of what was to come.
I closed my eyes and sank under the water, letting the sound of this new world drift around me. Paymon was a demon, but he was also my husband. He had already introduced me to a life with more luxuries than I would have ever had in the village. He’d also saved me from a life with the Master Demon.
Lifting my head free from the water, I breathed in the scent of the roses before reaching for the soap. I let out a low moan of happiness when I rubbed the smooth, silky texture against my skin.
I stopped my action and dropped the soap. How could I think like this and accept all this luxury? It wasn’t my life; it wasn’t who I was. My friends were still in the village where the cold tore at their skin, where warm water was a far-flung dream. This life may be luxurious, but what had I unwillingly traded it for? Marriage to a demon who fed from my emotions. Trapped in a house with him? I’d not been free in the village—confined by its borders, too scared to roam into the forest that surrounded it. And I wasn’t free here. I lifted my hand from the water and turned it so I could see the mark, their mark, my marriage mark. I was no freer here than in the village. I dipped my hand back into the water and sunk under the surface again.
Iniquity (The Ascent Book 1) Page 9
