by Jill Archer
Still, that’s exactly what he did. Every second that I stood outside his door begging for entry made me angrier until finally, in a great blast of frustration, I singed the lock and burst through. The room was completely dark. Instantly, I was pinned to the wall by something large and unmovable.
“Are you mad? Breaking into my room? I could have killed you.” Ari’s voice rumbled in my ear. His tone was incredulous and angry, but there was something else to it, something more difficult to define.
“Is it that easy for you to kill?” I spat out, my words unintentionally harsh.
“Is anything?” He pressed his forehead against mine, still keeping my hands locked in an iron grip at my sides.
I struggled futilely, more from a sense of frustration than an actual desire to get away. Ari looked at me, the way a pinscher might look at a rabbit caught in a snare. He raised my arms above my head, holding both of my hands effortlessly in one of his. I was acutely aware of how cool the wall felt on my back and how hot Ari’s breath felt on my neck. I squirmed. Without warning, Ari pressed a finger against my demon mark. It was no quick touch. He left it there long enough to burn. In the dark, the orange glow of my skin’s response was easy to see. I gritted my teeth and refused to protest.
“I should tell you to go home, Noon.”
“You mean back to Megiddo?”
“No, I mean home. To Etincelle.” His words were little more than a rough whisper in my ear. My heart pumped erratically as he pressed his lips to the soft pulsing spot on my throat. Slowly, as if he were positioning himself for attack, he moved his hand from my demon mark to the top of my dress. For one wild second I wondered if he would simply rip it from my body. But instead his hand slipped around my back, causing me to arch against him.
“I should tell you to go home to Peter.” He untied the ribbons at the back of my bodice and then he started unlacing it. He pulled the ends of the ribbons through each and every eyelet with excruciating slowness, giving me time to stop him. I said nothing. Did nothing. Finally, he wrenched the now loose bodice free from my skin and let the dress drop. It fell to the floor, pooling around my ankles. “Peter can give you what you want.”
I shook my head. I was having trouble swallowing, let alone speaking.
“No?” Ari asked, his voice slightly mocking. He plucked the flower from my hair. In a parody of my earlier performance, he brought the flower to his nose and breathed deep, then tipped it toward me in offering. I shook my head again, this time more violently. My body quivered, half-fearful, half-desirous of his touch. He reached for the light switch and suddenly a soft yellow glow lit the entire room. I expected him to let me go then but his grip never wavered. Instead his gaze raked over every inch of me. I realized he’d turned the lights on just so that he could see me better. The blood rushed to my face. Ari stood before me almost fully clothed. He had removed only his tie, whereas I was now pressed up against the wall clad only in the thinnest strip of silk panties and ribboned ballet shoes.
I had never stood naked in a lit room with a lover before. On the contrary, all of my experiences before Ari had been conducted in the dark, with me in whatever shirt I happened to have been wearing. This was sorely testing the degree to which I was willing to expose myself. And Ari seemed to know it.
“I can still feel his spell on you,” he said. His gaze was steady, daring me to flinch or look away. He hooked his thumb in the thin strip of silk at my hips and pulled. A second later the delicate fabric tore, leaving me finally and completely exposed. Ari moved his hand from my hip to between my legs. I bit my lip, not wanting to cry out. I didn’t want to give Ari the satisfaction of knowing how easily he could affect me. I’d come here, hadn’t I? I’d do anything for him, forgive anything. Wasn’t that enough?
Below he played with me, teasing me, drawing his fingers in and out, slowly, shallowly, never reaching any of the places I really wanted to be touched. His lips came down on mine, first soft and slow, then harder and more demanding. When he finally withdrew his hand, I was shaking with need but he broke off the kiss and leaned back from me. I tipped my head forward attempting to capture his mouth in another kiss but he resisted. A tiny spark of anger flared. There was only so much teasing I could take. My arms were getting sore.
“Aristos,” I said softly. “Let me go.”
He shook his head slowly, as if coming to a terrible realization. “I never expected to fall in love with you so completely, Noon.” Once again he rested his forehead against mine. “I knew you were different, of course. Different from any other woman I’d ever been with. I knew my feelings for you would be stronger. But I didn’t know you would make me feel so… powerless. So unable to do what must be done. I should tell you to go home. Tell you to let Peter reverse your magic so you can live life as a Mederi. That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s what you’ve always wanted.”
That was what I had wanted. I opened my mouth to tell him, but one look at his face made me shut it again. I’d never seen Ari look as vulnerable, or as determined. I was afraid if I interrupted, he’d never say what he wanted to say, what he needed to say.
“I should tell you that a life with me will be full of bad and difficult things. Tell you that there will be blood and death and evil. I should want to protect you from all that, right? If I loved you…” His voice broke in anguish and he raked his hand through my hair, pulling it free from its pins, almost yanking on it in his desperation. Clumsily he pawed at me, raining feverish kisses across my eyes, my cheeks, my nose. He wound his hand through my hair to the base of my neck and pressed me toward him, flattening his body against mine. He kissed me fiercely, hungrily, and then broke off abruptly.
“But I can’t tell you those things. And I won’t apologize for wanting you in my life. There is nothing, nothing I wouldn’t do for you, except for the one thing I really should do for you. Let you go.”
And yet, he did. He released his hold on me and my arms dropped to my sides. I rubbed them, trying to massage the ache out of them. Ari turned his back on me and walked over to a far corner of the room. His stance, and the unbelievable chaos of his signature, told me how hard he was struggling to do the right thing.
“Oh no you don’t,” I said, extricating myself from the enormous pile of ruffles at my feet. I wanted to kick off my shoes too; I must have looked ridiculous, but the ribbons were long and twisted and there was no way I was going to let Ari suffer for one moment longer than he had to. “You can’t turn your back on me,” I said. I strode purposefully over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. He tensed.
“Ari, I came here tonight because… because I love you too. I realize how tonight must have looked to you.”
I saw the last few minutes of the ball as Ari must have seen it. Me, reaching achingly, longingly for Peter and the live bouquet of greenery he offered. Me, reaching for Peter and the life he offered. Me, clutching the bouquet to my breast, burying my face deep within its folds, and then lowering the bouquet so the entire world… and Ari… could see the uncontained zeal on my face, the unbridled glory, the rapturous joy.
But it hadn’t really happened that way. I struggled to find the right words to tell Ari how I felt.
“You say I’m equal parts eager and reluctant,” I said to his back. He still refused to look at me. “It’s true, but not for the reasons you think. From the moment I saw you, I was attracted to you, wanted you. But I thought there was no possible way you’d ever want me, being what I was. Even when you indicated an interest, I thought for certain your feelings would dwindle or die out. I figured all I’d be left with were dashed hopes and a whole lot of hurt. I never dreamed your feelings would intensify. But as that intensity became more real, more believable, it terrified me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before either. Not even close. You’re not powerless around me. You’re the most powerful force in my life.”
I put my other hand on his shoulder and tried to make him turn around, to see the truth of my words. His signature was a
choppy, sloppy, roiling mess.
“You scare me, Ari. But not because your magic is stronger than mine or because you’ve killed demons. I’ve killed a demon too,” I said softly, my voice trailing off. Ari turned around then and clasped me to him.
“Nouiomo,” he said tenderly, crushing me against his chest.
“You scare me, Ari,” I said, my voice muffled against his suit coat, “because loving you means loving myself. It means admitting that someone with waning magic—death magic—is worth being loved. Your love makes me feel unbelievably strong, but also immeasurably vulnerable. Because it means you have a claim on me, a say in what I do. You have an enormous effect on me. I never wanted anyone to have that kind of power. But it’s yours. I didn’t give it to you, it just happened. It just is. You helped me to love who I am. I guess it’s only fitting that you have the right to destroy me too.”
I didn’t think it was possible for Ari to squeeze me tighter. “I will be annihilated before I ever let anything happen to you,” he said fiercely.
He scooped me up into his arms and carried me into the bedroom. It was an immense space with high ceilings and huge windows. He laid me on the massive bed as if I were as fragile as a butterfly. In seconds he shucked his suit. He sat down gingerly beside me. It was as if he couldn’t believe I was real, or that I was his. He acted as if one sudden move might pop me like a bubble and make me disappear.
But I was his.
And he was mine.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.
“Dressed like that? I hope not.”
“There’s still one thing that’s between us.”
Ari narrowed his eyes. “What’s that?”
“These,” I said, raising one leg. I pointed my toe and wriggled my slipper-clad foot, grinning at him.
Chapter 22
Sometime during the night I had promised Ari I would go to Bradbury with him. At the time, sequestered away in the opulent comfort of the Stirling’s penthouse suite, cradled in Ari’s strong arms, and magically surrounded by his rock-solid and intensely warm and soothing signature, it had seemed that nothing further would ever hurt or harm me. But as day broke and the sun streamed across our rumpled satin sheets, a small fissure of doubt began to creep back into my mind. What, in all of Luck’s scorched Hell, would Ari’s family think of me? But I kept my fears to myself, figuring Ari had had enough of my self-doubt for a while.
Sunday morning, we parted ways in the back of a cab at the edge of Timothy’s Square. Ari claimed my mouth in a last bruising kiss, sneaking his hand beneath the coat he’d lent me. His hand slipped across my demon mark with the lightest feather touch, but it was enough to show that his effect on me was as strong as ever. I squeaked in protest and the sound was swallowed by Ari’s full, soft mouth on mine. The driver cleared his throat impatiently and Ari reluctantly broke off the kiss. We each set off for our respective dorm rooms to pack.
The campus had an abandoned feel. Almost everyone had left for the break. I returned to Megiddo to find two letters. The first was really a note, from Ivy, indicating she and Fitz had left. They were staying at the Seknecai estate over the break. Personally, I couldn’t imagine spending Beltane with Waldron Seknecus, but I supposed they were used to it.
The second letter was from Night, telling me that he’d talked to Karanos at the ball. He’d shared Linnaea’s renewed concerns about the Mederies and their safety while traveling, as well as my suspicions regarding Vigilia. Karanos had given Night the name of the Maegester who’d been working the case and they were all going to meet. He was taking Peter with him so I wasn’t to worry. I smiled at that last part, but then bit my lip, concerned about Night’s increased involvement in the investigation. He might have stood up to a bunch of Host thugs in the hallway of Empyr last night, but putting a lancet (or whatever my brother’s blade had been) to a demon’s neck would only result in him getting his arm gnawed off. But there was nothing I could do to stop them so I tucked that letter, along with Ivy’s, into my desk drawer.
I changed into a pink silk cami and lace mini bloomers and contemplated my closet, dithering. What did one wear when meeting one’s boyfriend’s parents for the first time? I had no idea, not ever having had a boyfriend before. I couldn’t imagine meeting the parents of anyone I’d ever been romantically involved with. Ari had mentioned a Beltane bonfire too. I hope he didn’t expect me to participate in any way. I was just getting used to the idea of attending these sorts of celebrations. I rubbed my arms nervously, trying to decide whether I could fit my boots in my backpack, or whether I’d have to carry them separately, when I felt a signature that was hot and blistery but the opposite of Ari’s in every other way.
Nergal.
I’d almost, but not quite, forgotten about him. Really, what I had decided to do was not think about him, at least over the break. I still hadn’t found a solution to his problem. He still hated Lamia as much, if not more, than when I’d first been assigned to represent him. And Lamia still refused to release Nergal from his marital vows, which were as strict as any demon obsessed with rules could make them.
I shall take you as mate, for here and ever after, to live and die by your side. Your debts are my debts, your sins are my sins, your life is my life…
Demons were nothing if not serious about promises.
My skin itched as if infected with a rash. Apparently Nergal was shifting into human form with an emphasis on the pestilence part of his personality instead of the drought and midsummer death part. He appeared before me in full fiery glory. On previous occasions such as this, I had always shielded my eyes with my arm and requested that he turn down his wattage. Today I wasted no time with such niceties. I threw up a magic shield that could have stopped a ten-ton radiation blast. His magic hit mine with enough force to knock my teeth together. Suddenly, my temples throbbed and my vision doubled. Nergal’s magic bounced off my shield and reverberated back to him. But instead of reabsorbing it, he easily turned it away, uncaring of where else it might land. My armoire burst into flames.
“No!” I cried, watching my collection of high-necked tunics, sweater shawls, and wool wraps go up in smoke.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, leaving me to leech oxygen and put out the fire. By the time I was finished, an entire quarter of our room had been destroyed. I stood in front of Nergal, sweating, sooty, and panting.
“Small wonder,” I said, irritated, and gestured back toward my ruined wardrobe. I walked over to Ivy’s closet and pulled an old sweater out, glaring furiously at Nergal the whole time. Though I itched sorely to do it, I refrained from throwing any more magic.
“What do you want?”
“I want to discuss my options. You may be looking forward to a leisurely Beltane break lounging on a blanket in front of a bonfire, but I’m looking forward to another week with a curse worse than death. What do you think I want?” he snarled, advancing on me. “I want out.” I pulled Ivy’s sweater tighter around my shoulders, but refused to shrink back. Nergal loomed over me, his voice as harsh as his crusty, weathered features.
“I want you to act like my counsel and advise me.” His words were clipped, his temper barely restrained. Nergal had been threatening me for months, had caused me countless sleepless nights, but I hadn’t realized until now that he’d been merely impatient. Now he was angry. And I wasn’t at all sure I could control him.
“I have, Nergal,” I said quickly, hating the fact that I sounded desperate. “There are no options absent Lamia’s consent.”
“She will never consent.”
I nodded, miserably chewing the inside of my lip.
“I want you to see what she has become.”
“I’ve met her, Nergal. I know what she’s like.”
“Do you?” he said scornfully. “You have no idea.”
He grabbed my arm and I glanced down, wishing I hadn’t. My entire arm appeared shredded and riddled with maggots. I knew it wasn’t real, but the pain and shock of seeing it made
my pulse rate skyrocket. Bits of grisly, pulpy bicep tissue hung from my exposed humerus bone, all of it teeming with small, ricelike insects. I stifled a shriek, barely remembering that demons were like dogs. Showing fear only invited further attack.
I tried to jerk my arm away, but Nergal only squeezed tighter. “Come with me,” he said, and we were instantly gone.
I knew demons could shift in and out of physical form but I hadn’t known that they could carry someone with them when they left the corporeal world. I felt like a rag doll flushed down the toilet. My body twisted and turned and whirled around so violently that I wretched upon reentry. I knelt on a familiar looking wooden floor, clutching my stomach and heaving. The contents of my stomach were replaced with a small, cold knot of fear. My belly burned as I wiped my mouth and stood up.
Nergal had brought me to the Manipulation classroom. Lamia was there too.
In the last three months, she had grown infinitely more vile. She sat in the corner as she had the night of Bryde’s Day when we’d first met, cackling at me. The sound sent shivers up my spine. Her signature felt raw and poisonous, like meat left to thaw on the counter for too long. But it was worse than that. Behind the overall nauseous feeling she gave off were pinpricks of pain, as if someone had slipped razor blades in the meat.
I tried to collect myself, but everything about me was in tatters: my dignity, my magic, even Ivy’s sweater had somehow been torn by Nergal’s forcing me to come here this way. Lamia’s magic hit me then, squeezing me as she had before. My breathing became labored and I fought not to panic. Ari wasn’t here this time to control her. Would Nergal allow her to squeeze the life out of me? How angry was he that I had failed him?
I glanced over at him. He looked back at me contemptuously. I could almost feel his disdain for me, his revulsion to my current unkempt state. My hair was tangled, my lips were dry, and I knew my skin likely looked green and sallow. Worse, Nergal now looked at me as if I was of no further use to him. I hadn’t helped him the way a Maegester should, and I was too weak to control either him or his vile, repulsive wife, who he was still saddled with thanks to me. And then I realized that’s why he’d brought me here. To give me a taste of the medicine my failure forced him to drink.