“What kind of a mother fills her child with such terror,” Adonis ground out, shoving a hand through the mess of brown waves tangled in front of his eyes. “How can she frighten you so badly that even on the cusp of realizing one of your most precious dreams, all your wonder turns to horror?”
“Do not speak of my mother that way!” Ivy whirled to walk away, but a hand on her arm stopped her, jerked her back into the hard planes of the incubus’ chest.
“Have you nothing inside you, but fear?” Adonis demanded. “Is that how you’ll greet every new experience?”
The faint crack in his voice softened his harsh words and stilled the scathing retort on Ivy’s tongue. Adonis was staring at her with heat in his eyes, not just passion, but true anger that she was so afraid.
The memory of his words echoed in her head, “Is that how you’ll greet every new experience?”
“No,” she said quietly. She swallowed hard and forced herself to lean closer. Surprise flickered in his gaze, but he made no move to release her. Memories bounced around in her head, little snippets of Adonis and his looks, his touches, his playful words. For just a second, she let herself admit that she didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want to be alone anymore.
She raised her hands to his face and he eased his grip on her arms enough to let her cup his cheeks in her hands. The ire in his eyes faded until he was staring at her from the hazel orbs she’d seen sparkling when he’d kissed her that first time. She’d been afraid of him then, afraid of the stories her mother had told her about him.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered.
Adonis closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to rest against hers, a deep exhale shuddering out of his body. Ivy held her breath, waiting for him to say something, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his.
At first he didn’t respond. She brushed her lips over his, trying to coax him into kissing her back. It was nothing like the last time. Then it had been passionate and consuming, and he’d taken over immediately. Now it was gentle, probing, and apparently all up to her. Embarrassment threatened to steal her thunder, but Ivy shoved it away. Adonis was right, she couldn’t let fear rob her of the wonders of the world.
The memory of how she’d fled at the first sign of nightmares on the astral plane came back to her and Ivy nearly wilted with shame and humiliation. All her dreams of being a warrior and a battlefield healer…she couldn’t even face imaginary danger. Adonis had given her a chance to prove her mother wrong, to prove she could handle the outside world, and Ivy had failed in every manner possible. Well, she was a fast learner. She would see new places, experience new things—and she would start with Adonis.
Gathering her courage, she licked his bottom lip, tasting a hint of cloves along with the flavor that was all Adonis. The smooth, soft skin of his lip slid against her tongue, and she teased it with her teeth, playing with the texture. His lips twitched under hers and she imagined she felt him sway toward her. Her nerves buzzed to life with a sense of empowerment and she boldly slid her tongue past his lips.
A groan that sounded like it had been ripped from the depths of his being suddenly tore from his mouth. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around her waist like iron bands, trapping her against him. Ivy threw her arms around his neck, clutching the back of his head as she ran her tongue over the smooth edges of his teeth, the silky inside of his mouth. Her head spun, her breaths coming harder.
The kiss escalated, from the warm, cozy depths she had initiated to the intense fire that always seemed to burn from within Adonis. He plied her mouth with heat, taking advantage of her moan to slide his tongue past her lips and explore the deeper recesses of her mouth, mimicking what she’d done with him. Sweet, aching arousal flooded her body, making her feel clumsy with need as she kissed him back, desperately trying to get closer. He ground his pelvis against her and a searing flash of desire made her gasp and hook her leg around his hip.
Her robes parted like shimmering waves of sand, baring the top of her thigh and the bended knee, and his hold closed around her, hips rocking as he filled her mouth with a low groan. Pleasure spun her senses until she couldn’t tell up from down. She rolled her hips gently, timidly rubbing her center against his length, clutching Adonis like he was her only tie to the world.
Suddenly he tore his mouth away from her, pushing away. A cry of dismay escaped her as he broke her hold and stumbled backward to crash into a bookshelf. The solid oak furniture rattled under the incubus’ weight as Adonis staggered to the side before getting his feet under him. Ragged breaths racked her body as he backed away from her, rubbing his face and forcing his hands through his hair.
When he finally looked at her, his eyes were red coals. “Ivy, I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “I thought I could, but… Oh, gods, I just can’t…”
Ivy swayed a little, her brain struggling to catch up with current events. The feeling of empowerment she’d felt moments ago abandoned her along with the heat of Adonis’ body. “Can’t…what?”
Adonis laughed, a short, humorless sound. “Can’t what,” he echoed ruefully, fisting a hand in his wild shock of hair. “Ivy, you’re so innocent it pains me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” A furious blush flamed on her cheeks, but she refused to back down. “You mean sex? I’m not ignorant, Adonis, just because—”
“I know you’re not ignorant,” Adonis choked, his gaze like a physical force as it raked over her body. “Oh, I know, I…” He covered his face with his hands again, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. “Oh, gods, that was it. I’m so stupid, such a… Oh, gods…”
“Stop mumbling and tell me what’s going on!” Embarrassment and anger joined together, building inside Ivy until she was afraid she’d explode. “Did you come here just to toy with me?” Pain twisted her heart, but she ignored it, too outraged to be hurt right now. “Is this fun for you, teasing the pathetic, inexp—”
“Did you know that virgin energy is the most powerful energy of all for an incubus?”
Ivy jerked back as if she’d been slapped. “What?”
Adonis exhaled. With a sharp twist of his shoulders, his wings erupted from his back, unfurling with a sharp snapping sound as he flicked them out to his sides. His wingspan was at least twice the height of his body, each ribbed arc was a large ebony sail that devoured whatever light escaped from the tower’s one large steeple window.
Ivy shrank back as his shadow seemed to reach for her, but quickly remembered herself, grit her teeth, and stepped forward. She glared at him and he just tilted his head, his horns splitting from his temples to curl like living serpents, back along his crown before arching up into fine, sharp points. He straightened to his full height, and Ivy had the strange urge to reach out and touch one of his wings. Black claws erupted from his fingertips, sending drying multicolored flakes of paint drifting to the floor to imbed themselves in the rug.
“You are very seductive to me, Ivy,” Adonis whispered, flashing hints of razor-sharp fangs as he spoke. “It takes a great deal of willpower for me to hold myself back, to keep myself from throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you to my bed.”
Ivy swallowed hard as desire licked a hot path up her spine, edged by just the barest hint of fear. He was trying to shock her, trying to scare her. She straightened her spine and stuck out her chin.
The muscle in his jaw twitched and his eyes burst to life like twin bloody suns. “I should have known the Fates were involved when I fell through your window. I’ve always been so careful to play only with women who would be glad to see me go, who wouldn’t care what I did before or after I visited their bed. I would never have sought out someone as innocent as you.”
“Quit calling me innocent,” Ivy growled, her arms trembling at her sides. “I—”
“I don’t mean innocent as in virginal, Ivy.” Adonis tapped a fist to his mouth. “I mean innocent as in unprepared. You’ve been a prisoner your whole life, Ivy.
You hardly have any knowledge of the world that hasn’t been tainted by your mother. You don’t know what your options are, you don’t even know what options exist! How can I let you make a decision when you have no information to base it on?”
Ivy shook her head. She wanted to see the places he described, wanted desperately to take him up on his earlier offer to show her the world. And what’s more, she wanted to see it with him. The fact that he was backing away from her like she was too naive to risk influencing with his worldly experience infuriated her to madness. “I’m not some delicate crystal that needs to be protected and locked away!” she shouted. “I’m tired of being denied a life just because—”
“That’s exactly it, Ivy, you deserve a life,” Adonis ground out. “I can give you pleasure, but that’s it. I can’t give you a life, stability, fidelity.” His voice shook on the last word and he looked away, that same muscle in his jaw jumping wildly as if he was clenching his teeth. “Dammit, Ivy, you deserve more than what I can offer you.”
The longing spiked inside her and Ivy took a step forward. Before Adonis turned to face her, she reached out and ran a hand over the edge of his wing. She had a moment to feel the warm, smooth skin and delicate bone before he jerked away like she’d burned him.
“Life has to start somewhere,” Ivy said hoarsely.
“Ivy,” he moaned miserably, ducking his head. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair, tugging at it and releasing a sigh. Finally, he faced her, straightening his shoulders and spine despite the look of resignation on his face. “Don’t ever settle for less than the world,” he said quietly. “Because that’s what you deserve. And until I can give you more, give you what a woman like you should have… I should stop torturing us both.”
Chapter Six
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, it just can’t be done.”
Adonis shoved his cigarette back between his lips, peering through the smoke at the small pale man fidgeting before him. He looked ridiculous. Honestly, thrones were made for certain kinds of people, and that did not include pasty-faced little men wearing robes that looked like they’d been stolen from their father’s closet. The necromancer traced a finger over the swirls carved into the wooden arm of the old throne. He never stopped moving. It was distracting.
The incubus exhaled a puff of smoke, and the necromancer cleared his throat and waved a ring-laden hand in front of his grey, pinched face to disperse the thick cloud. His thick cloak shifted as he did so and the gap at the man’s neck offered brief peeks of a heavy gemmed amulet. Adonis didn’t know much about necromancers beyond the raising the dead bit, but he hadn’t expected the man to be quite so…bejeweled.
“I wish I could help,” the necromancer continued. “But your situation is rather…unique. Normally an incubus would have no trouble maintaining a human form. It’s a simple matter of manipulating astral energy. However, you are trying to maintain—”
“Someone else’s dead body, yes.” Adonis flicked the ash from his cigarette and pointed the smoldering tip at his hesitant host. “Which is why I came to a necromancer for help. You are the most powerful necromancer in Nysa, if anyone can help me, it’s you.” He stared pointedly at the throne the man was sitting on.
Even a simple throne of carved wood with few embellishments beyond some intricate carvings was a bold statement for someone with no claim to royalty, or deification. And he held the seat of the helm like it was of little consequence.
“And I am flattered that you have such faith in my abilities,” the necromancer answered, bowing his head slightly. “But the problem is maintenance. Your complaint is that you are having to expend too much energy to maintain your body, but I’m afraid that even if I could teach you to use necromancy, you would have the same problem. Maintaining the body would still require a great deal of energy—energy you would have to replenish.”
Adonis paced from the large bookcase against the wall to the table that lined the opposite wall. Dirt and dust from the mausoleum’s stone walls coated his feet and he glared at the ground when one particularly sharp pebble jabbed him in his arch. He halted by the table, idly noting the myriad of candles, scrolls, and bones. He picked up a skull, moving the jaw bone up and down as if it were talking. A strangled sound from the necromancer made him put it down, patting it on the head before giving the stuffy corpse-raiser his attention.
“You make it sound like you don’t have enough power. I’ve seen necromancers raise entire armies with a wave of their hand.” Adonis swung his arm out and touched a claw to the edge of the worktable, dragging it down the worn surface as he took up pacing again.
“Showmanship,” the necromancer countered. “The fact is that no matter how powerful the necromancer, a certain amount of ritual is still required to raise the dead. And that necromancer does have to replenish his energy once he’s exerted it.” He cleared his throat and leaned forward, reaching his hand out then pulling it back in hesitation. “Your Highness, that table is rather old, please don’t…”
Adonis dropped his hand and tapped his foot as he eyed the necromancer. The death master’s hood was pulled forward, the midnight blue material so thick that it stood nearly on its own. It cast shadows on the magic user’s face so that the man appeared to scrutinize Adonis from inside a cave. He wasn’t at all what Adonis had expected when he’d followed the man’s astral signature through the graveyard. In Adonis’ mind, necromancers were tall, powerful men ignoring the sanctity of death and playing puppet master with lives that had already ended. Then again, perhaps this man’s…unassuming stature was why he preferred the company of the dead. Still, whatever his appearance, his aura was by far the most powerful Adonis had sensed when he’d gone to the graveyard looking for a necromancer. He rolled his cigarette between his fingers, trying to think of something he could say to make the difficult man help him. The smooth cylinder glided over the pads of his fingers, back and forth, back and forth. Calming.
“And what’s more,” the necromancer continued firmly, “necromancers do not generally try to raise the dead and keep them moving for entire lifetimes. It is the distinction between raising the dead, and resurrecting the dead. As I said, it’s the maintenance that is the problem, a continuous flow of copious amounts of energy.” He eased himself back into the large wooden seat. “In all honesty, I am hard-pressed to think of a creature other than an incubus that could manage it.”
“Bully for me,” Adonis muttered.
The necromancer drummed his fingers on the arm of the throne. Every skeletal tap was like a sledgehammer on Adonis’ nerves. Tap, tap, tap, tap…tap, tap, tap, tap…tap, tap, tap, tap…
“Oh, for the sake of Aphrodite, just spit it out!”
“If you will excuse my bluntness, Your Highness, I am a little confused as to why you’re coming to me for an energy source. From all I have heard, you are quite adept at…harnessing energy using nothing but your own charms.”
“Yes, a silver tongue is generally all the weapon an incubus needs,” Adonis agreed. “However, I still require a wide variety of willing ladies to harvest said energy from.”
“And you are running out of women?”
Adonis rubbed his temples, suddenly painfully aware of how Kirill felt when he made the same gesture. I owe the vamp an apology. “No, I am not running out of women.”
“You are…tiring of sex?”
Adonis smirked at the slight note of incredulity in his voice. “No, thank Aphrodite, I am not tiring of sex. However, as delightful as women are, there does come a time when a man gets tired of going to a buffet every night. It would be nice to stay home and eat.”
The necromancer blinked at him, his brow furrowed slightly. Adonis paused, wondering if he’d lost the man somewhere in his metaphor. The man was a powerful necromancer, yes, but power did not always equal intelligence. Patricio proved that.
“You want to settle down,” the necromancer guessed.
Adonis sighed and sucked on his cigarette for a moment. “I would like
…the option.”
“Your Highness, forgive me, but from what I understand of what you’ve told me, Aphrodite herself asked you to possess the deceased prince’s body immediately after his death, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right. The king and queen, as you know, have been loyal followers of Aphrodite for ages. Aphrodite responds very well to flattery, and sacrificing an incubus was apparently a small price to pay.” The last was added bitterly as Adonis flicked his cigarette again. A piece of ash flew from the tip to land in a small stone bowl of water. As it touched the surface, something sparked and the liquid sizzled.
“So she forced you?” The necromancer slid between Adonis and the science experiment, a pained twist to his lips that might have been meant as a smile. “That is rather unusual. Aphrodite is of course known for her temper, but I have always heard it said that she prefers seduction to force.”
Golden Stair Page 10
