by S J Doran
“Come and lay down, Sarratum-sa.” Agate helped her to her feet. Her eyes blinked heavily, her head spinning.
“Might have overdone it,” she spoke, but her tongue was thick, her words coming out garbled.
Agate lay her in bed and sat beside her, brushing out her hair. She tried swatting her hands away; the braids had taken so long to get right.
“Rest. Relax.” Agate wiped down her face with a hot cloth, making the battle to keep her eyes open impossible.
She fought the pull of sleep, her mind screaming at her that she had to go to Cass. They had a date. Would he keep it still, even with the temptation of the angel so near at hand?
With her mind and body fighting each other’s will, she ended up drifting into a trance, the ether calling, a dangerous thing unguarded as she was in her rooms. She ought to be in the Sanctum, were she was anchored, safe.
“Dangerous game you play, Priestess.” Kali’s familiar form came together in tendrils of mist and fire, flickering incorporeally. “The Sumerian gods? The very same that birthed your long time nemesis Namtar?”
“Nemesis? More like a nagging blister.”
“A deadly one.” Kali’s form went solid, her eyes glowing with ire. “As your own sisters well know.”
Her gaze dropped, all energy to spar with this goddess washed out of her.
“You owe me already, but because I ask so much of you, I will be benevolent in this case and offer you more to sweeten the pot, as they say.” Kali paced, watching her.
“You think you want to be with Inanna’s heir. You owe your life—and your sanity to the young Cassius?” One of Kali’s four arms reached for her, holding her face up to lock eyes. “I will use the power you help me gain and I will see you and the King together.”
“What do I have to do?” Everything in her stilled. Her pounding heart stopped thudding against her ribs, her breaths grew shallow, her thoughts clearing. Could it be this easy?
Kali’s eyes lit up the entire room, her pleasure radiating in waves. “Come to me when the time is right.”
Something stung her neck, her hand slapping to it, distracting her long enough that Kali faded away before she could ask how she’d know the time was right. So damned cliche.
A room with a view
He sat on the bed, bounced a few times, staring at the open doorway. It was still open, he wasn’t trapped. He couldn’t bring himself to walk her into the attached rooms. Jez saw her through, giving Cass one concerned look before following his sister and the Warlord into the luxurious Harem suites. She’d be well taken care of there, his father’s concubines had always been offered the best of everything. Including his son.
“Beautiful aren’t they Cassius?” Bas’s voice filled his mind, the imprint of his caressing hand burned in his memory. “They’re demanding of their pleasure, but I’ve no doubt you can please them all.” Bas’s lips covered his own, his hands touching everywhere. “I’m sorry but your father has instructed that I not let you leave until you do.” A cold metal cuff clasped his wrist, weighing it down, holding him down...
His leg shook up and down, his palms growing damp. He swiped them down his shirt and then through his hair, the trembling inside of him increasing to the point he felt weak.
“Is this your room?” Ziva spoke, saving him from a complete spiral into the black void of his past. “I’m expected to sleep in a room attached to yours?”
“Fuck no. I hate this room.” He got to his feet and blew out a slow breath, digging his hands into his hair as he walked the length of the room, resting on his father’s desk, far away from the celestial.
He gripped the desk hard, pulling himself to his feet, his body shaking with the effort. Blood ran freely down his face, into his eyes… he must have lost consciousness because there was no one here now. Couldn’t be caught here when his father came back… always worse...
“I’ll be sure guards are posted outside the doors at all times, Z. I don’t want you roaming the fortress either.” Jez spoke as if continuing a conversation Ziva was no longer involved in. He pried her arm off her chest and walked with her, only stopping when he noticed Cass.
“Don’t you have plans? Or is your sick day finished?” Jez smirked.
He looked around the darkly furnished room, wondering how the angel would feel safe here. Everything was overly embellished and intimidating. The bedposts rose towards the cathedral height ceilings, thick and carved, decorated with grotesques and heavy fabric. The bed itself took up a good portion of the main bedroom, nausea churning at the memories of his father entertaining multiple females at a time in it, Cass forced to listen anytime he’d been brought here for punishments.
“You’ll stand and face the corner until I’m finished, Cassius. I’ll deal with your impertinence then.”
His father’s office was through the door opposite the harems, all his private journals and contracts were stored there. Cass had gone through most of them in the months after his father’s imprisonment, most of the books written in Enochian script or boring and didn’t pertain to anything he’d been searching for. Except… hadn’t there been a book of the Lich?
“Cass maybe you should…” Jez let go of Ziva and made a move toward him but he held up his hand.
“If I ever catch you in this room again I’ll chain you to the cross in the Harems for a month.” His father’s expression was impassive, not even looking up at him as he dictated his warning. “This time you’ll get a warning. And a week. Basileus?” Then Bas was there, always there...
He scrambled around the desk and made his way into the office, shutting the door behind him. Maybe if there was mention of the Lich, there would be something about the Ruby Rod and its attributes.
Walking through the stacks, he plucked out a volume about the Lich, glancing through, seeing only lists of names. Names… that connected to contracts. He tucked the heavy book under his arm and went to the index listing on the elaborate Rolodex. Cross-referencing the name of the Lich King himself with the contract and where it was located.
The Lich contracts weren’t written on parchment. Most demon contracts that extended beyond a mortal lifespan weren’t, pulp being too fragile to aging. Likely human skin, and most likely that of someone close to the person who’d made the contract. His father didn’t make contract lightly, and the contract that would have made an entirely new species would be insidious indeed. He stacked the rolls on top of the book and left before the office walls started closing in on him like they used to when he was a child. Or—he’d imagined they had. Still. The feeling was there.
He turned to tell Jez he was heading back to his room, stopping at the sight of him and Ziva sitting on his father’s bed talking.
“Don’t sit on that bed,” he shouted and Ziva jumped.
“Cass.” Jez got to his feet.
“Sorry, I’m just going to…” get the fuck out of here. He didn’t have to finish his sentence, Jez was already nodding with understanding.
He didn’t relax until he was in his room, door closed, his head buried in the book. Safe.
Dark deals
She blinked open her eyes to a dark room, her thoughts lagging behind her body which was already scrambling to get up. She’d fallen asleep? Her meeting with Cass… her date… oh. The angel. How could she have forgotten?
Hurt made her lungs seize, her heart physically aching. He probably hadn’t bothered to go to his apartment, no reason to worry that she’d stood him up. He was probably hilt-deep in the angel at this very moment, making her scream with ecstasy… the same as she’d been just the night before. In their fortress… she looked over to where they’d made their bubble away from the world, finding the space clear, the fire burning low. Nothing left of their time together.
With an irritated grunt, she took off her plain black robes, wanting something softer against her tender skin. His hands… lips. Tongue.
Of all the places, why did he put the angel in the harem? He was nothing like the boy she remem
bered if he thought to reopen those rooms, had he forgotten all the torment that he’d been put through there? Had he forgotten confessing to her, feeding her his agony? All those times she’d been the one to dry his tears. Just what right did the angel have butting her pretty gold curls in between what she had with Cass? Why hadn’t she agreed to sign his contract and become his wife? At least then she’d have the right to toss the heavenly hussy out.
Would that have stopped him from having a harem?
Maggoty thoughts dug in, planting themselves deep. Would she have been enough? Could she ever be? She was overly thin, he preferred fleshy curves, she’d noted his preference after observing a century worth of him feeding on females. He preferred innocence and purity, in fact, needed it to sate his hunger. She had no claims to either and hadn’t for a very long time.
But she had him. She rubbed her thumb over his sigil on her palm. Was she really going to allow that sanctimonious female to take her place?
She wasn’t that girl. She wasn’t defeatist; she was a warlock. Selfish, territorial… she had claims on him.
Wrapping herself in her favorite red robes, she impatiently clasped them together with a thin gold kamarband, irritation mounting to the point she didn’t do more than run her fingers through her hair, and she was ready for war. To fight for him.
With her athame strapped tightly to her waist, her magic at the ready, she walked through the portal that led directly to his rooms, with a quick thought to what she would do if she saw him and the angel together… kill first, beg forgiveness later. Maybe. Better yet, the demon could beg.
She strode into his rooms and her anger fizzled down to just nagging upset. Her demon sat at his desk in the candlelight, hair mussed from his hands running through it, hunched over a book with the side of his hand trailing down the page as he read. His anxiety was palpable, he was tense, his leg bouncing every few moments, his fingers tapping beside the book.
When was the last time he’d taken his potions? She couldn’t recall, which meant he was probably due. Dark gods, he could have gotten the angel with child.
She walked over to him silently, running a finger down the back of his neck and he jumped up, knocking the chair over and spinning on her with frightening speed.
“Mara!” His expression softened at the sight of her, loosening the knots in her stomach. He was hers. “Hells, what time is it? Am I late? I got you pastries…”
He pushed back her hair, the heat of his hands sending shivers through her body, his eyes blazing as he looked her over. Then they dulled to a flat black as understanding dawned.
“You’re angry with me.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “You are correct.”
He just continued to stare at her, ember eyes reflecting his confusion. “But... why? I know I said I’d meet you, but I got caught up in this.” He turned and tapped the book. “Everything we need to know about the creation of the Lich, and there’ve been a few mentions of the Rod...” his excited chatter died away. He still didn’t get it.
Her arms folded across her chest. “Maybe hearing about your new mistress from my Dominae, so soon after you made plans with me?”
She moved in closer, invading his space, the gesture lacking in intimidation due to their height difference, but the glare she threw him more than made up for that disadvantage.
“Honestly sin-eater, I don’t know whether to be disappointed or impressed by the sheer brazenness of installing a celestial into your harem, but I can certainly assure you that I am angry. Not only did you take a mistress behind my back, you had the audacity to install her into the harem you swore you’d see destroyed. And the same celestial who nearly killed you no less! Call it a nonsensical reason, but I just can’t help being angry.”
He just swallowed, looking confused, and she almost relented, but the hurt ran deep. The betrayal a cut she’d not expected. Not from him.
“I get that you need to feed, and to a certain degree, I can even understand why you’d refuse me. But you fed just last night.” She poked him in the chest. “Just last night, while I watched, and you told me never again! Never again, Mara, only you Mara. Lies!”
That ember fire within his eyes lit up hotly, and as his lips turned into a grin, and she realized her mistake in letting her barriers down in her anger. He could read her energy as clearly as she could his.
“I can taste the sins upon you amata … envy… wrath… you’re jealous.”
If glares could kill, the sin-eater would be a very dead demon.
“And you’re a jackass, your point?”
He leaned down, so close their lips were nearly touching. “Why would you have reason…”
The air in the room changed, her magic no longer the only energy permeating the air, his infernal power rising to suffocating levels. And when she looked up, it was to find his gaze narrowed on her. Or more precisely, upon the mark that was revealed by the parting of her robes. Only now did she recall the pain on her neck that had startled her out of her trance.
“That’s Kali’s symbol. A divine debt. What did you do?”
Her brows rose as understanding began to filter through, his tone and expression grown dark. He was angry... with her?
The sheer audacity of it, after she had possibly safeguarded both the realms and their future. The thought irked, exhaustion and disappointment turned her mood from bad to surly. Coming here had been a bad idea.
“My negotiations with the gods are none of your concern, demon.”
Had the room always been this sweltering hot?
“What did she demand of you?” His hand closed gently around her neck, sliding around to circle her throat.
Her breath hitched, wondering if he’d follow through on the implied threat.
“A trade...”
She shoved at his chest, but the demon simply wouldn’t budge, instead, he moved closer still, so close they were sharing breaths. “What kind of trade?”
If he remained this close, she feared forgetting why she was angry with him in the first place; she wanted to run her fingers through his hair.
“One I accepted, now get back,” she almost growled.
He narrowed his eyes. “Of all the capricious, horrible goddesses, Mara.”
She offered a nonchalant shrug in response, her eyes tightening as she fought to control her temper.
“It’s my business,” she whispered, raising her chin. “Nothing to do with you.” This time, her eye twitched.
He grabbed her shoulders, giving her a light shake. “Tell me what you owe her for whatever you asked for that’s not my business.”
She pushed him back and walked over to his side table, pouring herself a drink, holding the bottle up to him in silent question, shrugging when he shook his head. “Also not any of your concern.”
“If it concerns you…”
“I’m not your concern either. You’ve made that perfectly clear by going behind my back,” she said, gesturing towards the door of his room. Somewhere beyond that door, the angel lurked.
“You are my only concern,” he growled, lunging towards her and she instinctively shrank back. “That should be the only thing clear,” he finished softly.
“Sin…”
“Mara…” they both spoke at once. He gestured for her to go ahead, but her mouth clamped shut, insecurities taking over, the ‘what ifs’ a little too real right now.
“I love you,” he said, closing the distance between them, hesitating as if he wasn’t sure if he should touch her.
She stiffened. “You chose to declare yourself now? Your actions today only serve to confirm to both the demonarchy and my Dominae that I am not good enough for you. You made me believe I wasn’t enough.”
He stumbled back.
“I should get back to the book.” He kept his voice low, but she could still hear the emotion cracking through it. “You should go.” He waved his hand toward her portal.
“Cass…” her soft utterance cut through the heavy silence.
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“Don’t. I can’t take much more.” His head hung, she felt the echo of his agony stinging her palm, through his sigil, there was honesty in his pain that words could never convey. She trusted pain. It was real and couldn’t be faked.
“I love you more,” she said, and he froze, flashing her a ghost of a grin.
“It’s a competition now?” He teased, but his eyes were still dark, his power still suffocating the room.
“Isn’t everything?” She canted her head to the side, studying his face, watching as he came to some sort of realization, some unspoken decision made.
“Ziva isn’t my mistress, that’s not why she’s here… I put her in my father’s old rooms. You know I won’t go near there.”
The name was becoming a trigger to her temper, power snapping angrily around her.
“Don’t you lie to me demon, I could feel your lust for her ooze out from you even as she tried to take your head. Only once have I felt it more potent. You could barely contain your hunger for her and she was trying to kill you.”
“I… lusted?”
The confusion that was reflected in his eyes almost made a believer out of her, almost.
“Cass, I know you need to feed, that you can’t starve yourself. But not like this. I can’t be here if you shut me out completely. I won’t be your second choice.”
“I lusted... for her? And you felt it?”
She honestly wanted to look at anyone or anything other than him in that moment, she wanted to kiss him, but mostly, she wanted him to hurt like he’d hurt her. She was a wicked creature after all.
“Yes.”
Truth
