Iniquity (The Ascent Book 1)

by Melody Winter

  “Come here,” he said, curling his finger at me.

  I didn’t move.

  “Come here, Athena, and I’ll tell you a secret.”

  I pondered his request for a moment, and then crossed the room to where he sat. He patted his knee. “Sit down, and I’ll tell you all I know about the shield of darkness.”

  His offer was too good to refuse, and I lowered myself across his knee.

  “You should have told me earlier that you wanted to know about the darkness, we could have come to some arrangement about what I’d tell you.”

  I straightened up, prepared to jump from his knee, but his arm wrapped around my waist, and he held me steady. “I don’t know whether the shield can be broken,” he said. “They say that the magic used to create it was so powerful that the magic to destroy it also had to be created. Apparently the Master hid the magic needed to destroy the shield.”

  “Where?” He had my full attention, and I would do anything, within reason, for him to part with more information.

  “There are rumours that only his children know where it’s hidden. They keep its secret safe.”

  “I didn’t think he had any children. Paymon said they all died.”

  “Not his demon children. The offspring he has successfully bred with humans have died within hours of being born. But he has sired children with other demons.”

  “And they know where this magic is?”

  “So it is believed.”

  I sighed, leaning into him as I contemplated his revelation. “Is there any way to find his children?”

  He shook his head. “Not that I am aware of.” His gloved hand rested on my thigh, and his other arm continued to hold me with a firm grip. “And what do you intend to do if you find the rumours to be true? Hunt down his children? Demons? How many would you need to find, and then how do you expect to get them to share their secret?”

  I glanced away from his penetrating eyes. My heart felt like it was shrinking, and my chest tightened. I’d found out about why the darkness was constantly around us; I’d found out how it was put there. I even knew how it could be destroyed. But the irony was that even though I had all the information, I was still no further in my quest to return the light. I bit my lip, attempting to stop it from shaking.

  “We all dream, Athena, even demons.” Erebus’s voice was low. “But sometimes our dreams are too impossible to ever become reality.”

  I swallowed hard as tears built behind my eyes. This wasn’t what I wanted. This wasn’t what I’d planned. I pushed against his chest, determined to leave him and go to my room. I wanted to cry in privacy, not in front of him.

  Erebus pulled me against his chest, and both of his arms curled around me.

  I sniffed, unable to halt my tears. I hadn’t had the simple affection of a comforting cuddle for months. And even though my head screamed at me not to, I shifted closer to him and placed my arm around his waist, twisting the soft cotton of his tunic top between my fingers. Now the tears had broken free, I couldn’t stop them.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he whispered, squeezing me as if to accentuate his words. “Is life really that bad?”

  I sobbed even more. How could my life be any worse? I sniffed again, trying to control my emotional outburst. “I hate the darkness,” I said against his chest. “If the sun came back, life would be much better.”

  “Is this all about the darkness?” His hold on me loosened, and he placed a finger under my chin to lift my face.

  I nodded, and he dropped his finger. I tightened my hold on him. I didn’t want him to let me go—not yet. His hold was reassuring, comforting and slightly possessive. My breathing became steadier, slower, matching Erebus’s as he rubbed my arm.

  “I can’t part the sky for the moon,” he said. “It moves, and it would be impossible and exhausting for me to constantly keep it within sight. But I can part it to let the light through for the rosebush.”

  “You can?” I lifted my head to catch his expression. His eyes were soft, swirling amber irises devouring me.

  “I can, and I will.”

  I hugged him, wanting him to know how much I appreciated his gesture. It was something I’d never thought him capable of.

  But as he tightened his hold on me even more, I froze. What was I doing? I needed to get away from him. He was confusing me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have said he had compelled me, but I was confident he hadn’t.

  I pushed my arms against his chest and slid from his knee. He didn’t try to hold me back and just held me in a steady gaze as I left the room to seek the solitude of my bedroom.

  I KEPT OUT OF EREBUS’s way for the next few days, only venturing to the kitchen to eat when he was out. I wrote endless notes about what I’d discovered about the light and about what Erebus had told me. But by the end of three days of self-imposed solitude, I was desperate for company. Odin was a pleasure to be around, but he was no substitute for conversation, or even an argument. Erebus had never knocked on my bedroom door, never even spoken to me through the thick wooden barrier, although I was sure I’d heard him pacing the corridor outside on numerous occasions.

  I hadn’t kept hidden from him just because of my disappointment at the impossible task of getting rid of the darkness. I’d also stayed away because of the rumbling and simmering emotions I was beginning to feel toward him. I still wanted to hate him, and it was easy to categorise him as a heartless, uncaring demon, but he’d shown me a different side to his character over the last few weeks. He’d rarely made any threats to me about our future together. He seemed concerned about my general well-being, and he appeared more . . . human. I kept pushing my thoughts aside and regularly took to writing out my frustration, listing all the things he’d done that classed him as evil. But even when I read through the list, I found myself making excuses for him, either for the way he’d behaved or the way he’d responded.

  I dressed in the dullest dress I had and left my long hair loose and wild before making my way downstairs to the lounge.

  Erebus was seated in the old chair at the desk, and I raised my eyes at his obsession with tracking down the vampire covens. It was all he ever did. Whenever he was at home, he’d be hunched over the desk, scribbling away, sighing and huffing.

  As I sat down, he stopped writing. His back straightened, and he placed his pen in the ink pot before turning sideways in the chair. He hadn’t tied his hair back, and it hung in twisted wavy lengths, dipping across his face. “Athena, what a pleasant surprise. Finished sulking yet?”

  “I wasn’t sulking.”

  He sniffed and ran his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. I tensed, and, for a split second I held my breath. Even from across the room, I could see the dark circles under his eyes.

  “Hiding then? From me? Why?” He rubbed the back of his neck, and pulled at the collar of his top.

  “I just needed some time alone to think.” I leaned forward, eager to see him properly, not in the dimmed light of the flickering candles. “You look tired. Not sleeping?”

  He guffawed and then shook his head.

  “What’s wrong?” I left the sofa and moved toward him.

  He turned away. “Nothing.”

  I leaned on the side of the desk. “Liar.”

  His knuckles whitened as he gripped the chair arms.

  I reached to tip his chin toward me, and his dark stubble scratched the softness of my fingertips. “Look at me.”

  He shook his head, keeping his gaze downcast.

  “Erebus. Look at me!”

  As he turned, golden irises locked with mine. There was no darkness about them, none at all, and the sunken pallor of his skin alarmed me.

  “You’re ill,” I said, placing my hands on either side of his face and then resting my palm on his forehead. He was cool to touch, but nothing untoward.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You are. You shouldn’t be this pale, and look at the state of your eyes. When did you last
feed?”

  He shrank away from my hands and laughed, but the sound held no humour.

  “When?”

  “A week ago.”

  “Madness. You need to go at least every other day.”

  “I’m saving for a big feed,” he said, a grin appearing on his face. “I’m going to go later today.”

  “But why make yourself weak? What would you do if Sebastian came back? Is your power as strong now as when you’re fed?”

  “And the questions begin again.” He sniffed and scratched the bridge of his nose. “Are you really concerned about me or worried that I may not be able to save you if Sebastian comes looking for you?”

  I tensed, immediately knowing my answer. I was concerned for Erebus, not myself. Where had this come from? Why was I suddenly concerned for him?

  “What are you thinking?” Erebus asked, his words clipped, excited.

  “Nothing.”

  “Now who’s the liar, Athena?” He stood up and leaned over me. His face was mere centimetres from mine. “Look at my eyes? What colour are they?”

  “Amber,” I said, hypnotised by the swirling colour. “They remind me of the sun, well, what I remembered of it.”

  His expression became serious. His features softened, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them I gasped.

  “Now what colour?”

  “B . . . black,” I stuttered, seeing nothing but dark solid irises.

  “Athena, what are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie. I need to know.” His hands held the tops of my arms as he questioned me. The sparks of his power rippled and danced along my arms, leaving a tingling sensation all the way down to my wrists. “This is the first time I’ve being able to freely feed off your emotions. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  I struggled against his too warm hands, trying to shrink away from his hold, but he only held me firmer. The sallow grey colouring under his eyes disappeared, and his warm olive skin tone returned. He was so close. My gaze dropped to his mouth, and I realised that if I moved forward, our lips would touch. I closed my eyes, and breathed in his woody, musky scent. My heart beat loudly against the side of my rib cage, and I struggled to not move my head forward—to make our lips meet.

  “Athena, it’s strong. Really strong. You must know what you’re feeling. Tell me.”

  I snapped myself free of the cloud of lust that had overwhelmed me. “I don’t know. But if I’m managing to feed you, you don’t need to go to the village.” I pushed his hands away from my shoulders and headed back to the sofa.

  Erebus followed. “You think it’s that simple? We’ve lived together for over a month and this is the first time you’ve provided me with emotions of any strength. If you won’t tell me what you’re feeling, then I can’t rely on it.” He drew his hand across his face and groaned. “Just tell me, and we can work something out.”

  “I can’t tell you because I don’t know.” I tried to gather my thoughts, but couldn’t. The blazing fire caught my attention, the flames licking high into the chimney breast as the burning wood crackled and spit. There were only a few candles lit in the room, not the usual multitude decorating every available surface. The room felt warm, welcoming . . . seductive.

  “If we can keep creating whatever emotion it is your feeling I won’t have any need to go to the village.” Erebus’s voice was soft. “It was very strong, but short-lived. It’s already dwindling.”

  I dared to cast my eyes his way. The dark irises were already swirling back to the normal amber colour I was used to seeing. I pulled at the neck of my dress, a sudden heat making me uncomfortable. His eyes had turned black when I’d thought of kissing him. Was that it? Was that all it took?

  “Come closer,” I said, fighting my instinct to move further away from him. The crackle of the fire didn’t seem as loud as it had a minute ago, and the dappled light cast by the candles softened Erebus’s sharp facial features.

  He walked toward me before sliding onto the sofa, never freeing me from his line of vision.

  I dipped my gaze to the smooth, soft plump outline of his lips partly hidden by his whiskers. I trembled and moved closer. My fingers tingled with the need to touch him. I breathed deeply, once again catching the earthy muskiness of his cologne, and wet my dry lips with my tongue.

  He narrowed his eyes and then backed away from me. “Are you seriously thinking of kissing me? Where’s this coming from? Another game?”

  “No.”

  “I’ve had enough of this. You seem to enjoy toying with my emotions whereas yours are a mystery to me.” He marched to the fire before spinning around. “I stayed away from the village because you don’t like me going there. And what do I get for my compassion? You, playing with my emotions, trying to get the better of me. I’m not a fool, Athena. Don’t treat me like one!”

  “That’s not true.” I ignored his building anger. He’d got it all wrong. “And how dare you speak to me about compassion. You don’t even know what the word means.”

  “Really? So why have I left you alone and not insisted you act like my wife in all ways, even physical? Why haven’t I sent you away and found myself a willing, loving wife? Why didn’t I hand you over to Sebastian and return to my previous lifestyle when it was offered to me? My list is long, Athena.”

  “Let me go then, if I’m such a disappointment to you. Free yourself of me.”

  He dipped his chin and shook his head. “I can’t. You’d not survive out there without me. Not now everyone knows you were categorised as a wife for the Master. It’s a heavy title to carry. And despite what you think, I do care about you. You are far from a disappointment.”

  My teeth dug into the skin of my lip, and I winced as the coppery taste of blood swept into my mouth. This was the first time he’d admitted any feelings for me. I had to gather my thoughts.

  “I lit the rosebush for you,” he said, approaching me with slow steps. “I just wish you would drop all this hate you pretend you have for me. I know you don’t hate me. You wish you could, but you can’t.”

  I narrowed my eyes and looked at him. “Oh, I can, believe me. I just think back to the first day we met.” I lifted my hand and flashed the marriage mark at him. “Remember?”

  “I saved you from Livia!”

  “Just so you could have me instead.”

  His hands clenched at his sides. “I didn’t even know who you were when I arrived in the village. And I certainly wouldn’t have brought you back here if you hadn’t been Paymon’s wife.”

  “This is all about me belonging to you. You looking after what’s yours. It’s not compassion. It’s ownership.”

  His jaw tensed, the vein in his neck pulsed. “You don’t want to believe me, do you? You have no intention of even trying to see me as anything other than evil.”

  I shrugged. “You’re a demon. It’s what you are. It’s how you exist.”

  “How I exist? You have no idea what you’re on about.” His voice was loud and raw, and his face flushed. But I refused to shrink away from him.

  “All demons are evil. You torture purely for entertainment.”

  He jerked his head back. “That’s how you see me? How you think of me?”

  I didn’t reply.

  A sneer formed across his lips. It was an expression I hadn’t seen since those first days we were thrown together. I drew away from his penetrating glare, wishing more than ever, that our paths in life had never crossed. Underneath all his seemingly niceness was a demon, and that would never change.

  “I’m going to the village,” he said, striding into the hall. “You stay here. I’m not just going to feed tonight. I intend to torture someone. And this time, it’s all your fault!”

  “But—”

  “I’m a demon, Athena. It’s what I am, it’s how I exist. I’ll do what you expect.”

  He swirled his cloak in an exaggerated spin before positioning it on his shoulders.

  I ran to the door
and stood with my back resting on the cold wood.

  “No, you can’t go. You can’t torture them. You promised you wouldn’t.”

  “Worried I’ll find Thomas? Concerned for your old lover?”

  Images of Thomas flashed in front of me. I’d hardly given him any thought lately—he was part of my past, and I had no intention of him being part of my future, whatever happened.

  “Do you want me to bring him back, let you have one last look at him before I kill him?”

  “Stop it! You’re not going anywhere when you’re like this.” I held my arms out to my sides, letting them rest on the door, creating a visual barrier for him to pass. I tensed as he approached, slipping his hands into his gloves.

  “Move.” His teeth were gritted. “If you don’t move, I’ll compel you.”

  “Another promise broken. You promised never to compel me.”

  “Only if you behaved. Seems you’re incapable of that tonight. First seduction, and now defiance. What’s next, Athena?”

  A sudden heat hit me, sinking deep into my bones, and before I had time to voice my repulsion, I froze. I tried to fight the overpowering influence his compelment had on me, but it was too strong, too intense. With no will of my own, I moved swiftly to the side of the door. Erebus strode forward, his sneer still fixed on his lips. I didn’t know who I hated the most at that moment, him, or me, for all the lustful thoughts his lips brought to mind. I was angry that he hadn’t let me kiss him. Maybe it would have confirmed what emotion was feeding him. Was it lust, desire? It was only recently I’d felt any slight stirrings for him that way, and the thought filled me with dread.

  He loomed over me, tilting his head to the side, and tapped his lips as if deep in thought.

  “Yet again, your emotions flow from you. What is it, hmm?” His gloved hand stroked the side of my cheek, and I was powerless to move away from him. Bottomless pits of darkness mirrored my fixed stare. He moved nearer, edging his face closer to mine. I was fixed in place by his compelment, unable to control even the slightest of movements, and he knew it.

  When his lips hovered over mine, I felt the movement of them as he spoke. “So you want to kiss me? Experience what it’s like to lose yourself in the deep, dark fantasy of kissing a demon. We’ve kissed before, remember? But you were compelled then. To kiss me of your own free-will will be completely different.”