Sett and his King (Demon Gods #3)

2. Drew

Drew

H e grunted. He stilled. He squeezed my hips. He shoved inside me. And I stayed there, taking it like a champ. It wasn't as if I had any choice in the matter.

"That's right. Stay still, boy. I'm close. I'm so…close…agh," he groaned right next to my ear and I felt like chopping it off.

I didn't, though.

Partly, because I didn't want to let him steal any more from me. Partly because I couldn't move. Instead, I focused on my breathing. On the pain flaring inside me with each of his thrusts. On keeping my body as relaxed as possible so he wouldn't hurt me more than he already had.

It was a mental exercise I was well-used to long before him, long before I’d become his prisoner. It seemed as if I was born to be used. There was no other explanation for why every one of my saviors had turned out a monster.

Maybe it was all my fault. For expecting to be rescued. It was all my fault for not fighting harder. For not standing up for myself. But my power…it attracted beasts. Beasts wanting it all for themselves.

Horus's moans built up to a rough tremor and I braced myself for the seismic aftershock his orgasm always had on my system. My entire body throbbed, equal amounts of agony and subjugation coursing through me keeping me the perfect little slave. The perfect little sex doll. And there was nothing I could do but take it quietly and pray it would soon be over.

"One of these days you'll stop hiding from me and I can break you," he said when he finally pulled out of me and walked the short distance to the bathroom and threw the condom into the toilet.

He always did that. I'd even told him he shouldn't do that once but he dismissed me as if he hadn't even heard me. Since then, I didn't care to correct him.

He returned to bed, collapsing next to me but paying me no mind. No hug, or kisses. No thank-yous. But I didn't expect them from him. He'd never done any of those things in the last three years I'd been his prisoner. Why would he start now?

That was what I was. His prisoner. His slave. His puppet. And there was nothing in the world I could do to stop it. He was an all-powerful, all-fearing god and I a simple witch who could only do his bidding.

But that was okay. As long as Gene was safe I'd do whatever he wanted me to. I'd be his fuck toy. I'd be his lackey. I'd be his slave.

His hairy chest rose and fell, slowly, almost hypnotically but I knew he wasn't asleep. He never slept when I was there. I didn't know if it was a precaution or if he didn't need it as a god but it was disturbing. Especially on days when he kept me here to fuck between meetings. He was like a vampire in that way. Maybe he was. After all, I knew very little about the gods. None of us did.

Up until three years ago they didn't even exist and then all of a sudden they all started coming back, one by one, determined to rule the world and take back their kingdoms.

Except for my friends' partners. Loki and Hades. All they seemed to want was love.

A chuckle escaped me.

That was all I could do. Laugh at the thought. An all-powerful god wanting love and companionship. That was the stuff of dreams, not of reality. At least not for me.

Never for me.

The bed sank on one side and a piece of paper appeared in front of me.

"Here," Horus said and only then did control return to my body.

I took the piece of paper, sat up, grabbed my trousers and put them back on, stuffing the note into my pocket. I didn't dare glance at him. I didn't want to give him more ammunition today. And any time he couldn't read my thoughts was ammunition. Thankfully I'd managed to tweak my potion enough so that some of my thoughts leaked through to appease him, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell I was doing something to shield my mind from him. And he hated it.

But my mind was the last thing I owned. The only place where I could be free to loathe him. And I'd die before I gave him that.

I put my T-shirt on and snatched my jacket from the armchair beside the door and walked out. It was a short corridor between his bedroom to the living room, and when I passed through the army of men turned to look at me.

Some sat quietly on chairs and sofas, hands tucked between their legs and their gazes focused on their laps, ignoring the drunken laughter permeating the room. Others played cards or backgammon, smoking cigars, nursing glasses of Scotch.

I didn't know how many of them were here out of their own volition and how many were just like me, prisoners of Horus, but I could take a wild guess. The timid ones were awash with fear, a few new faces who hadn't learned to hide their pain yet. The loud ones leered at me as if they wanted their turn with my body, but they could keep on dreaming. If anyone dared touch me, Horus would roast them alive. If I didn't kill them first.

I glared at the ones staring and made my way to the front door, keeping my back straight and my expression steely. Horus might be able to break me down but they wouldn't. Ever.

As soon as I was out on the streets of Chelsea I ran. I ran as far and as fast as I could. Away from Horus and his dominion. It was times like this when I could pretend I was free. But I could only pretend for so long.

When I was far enough, I turned on a side street, walked up to one of the expensive houses I could never afford in a million years and put my key in the keyhole.

Before I could turn it, a woman opened the door and glared at me.

"Who are you? What do you think you're doing?" she screeched, and I couldn’t blame her. Who wouldn’t at a stranger trying to open their door?

"I'm sorry," I mumbled and ran off to her shouting.

The next door I tried was an inconspicuous front garden shed where the residents probably kept their bins locked away until bin collection day.

But I put my skeleton key in, turned it and when I pushed down on the handle it slid open just for me, welcoming me home.

The strain and anxiety coursing through my body dissipated into nothingness as I closed the door behind me and bit my lip to hold myself back from crying.

The little reception room with the collection of family portraits on the walls and its checkered black and white floor shifted, the stairs leading up to the house disappearing, and in its place a door appeared.

"Thank you," I whispered and walked through straight into the bathroom.

My house knew me so well.

It knew I needed to wash up after what I'd just been through. To try to rub his scent off me.

I turned the hot water on and let it wash over me, as if baptizing me anew. I must have baptized myself in this shower a million times over and yet it was never enough. No amount of holy water would be enough to erase him from my body. Only an amnesia potion would help with that and even then it would only take away the memories of him. Not his actual mark on me.

I must have spent a century under the hot water but I felt almost normal when I came out. A stack of fresh clothes was waiting for me on the counter and I got dressed before I came out of the bathroom and into the corridor connecting most of the rooms in the house.

Gene's door was ajar and I approached, leaning against the frame and watching my brother work.

His canvas was as big as the wall, and brushstrokes the size of my body in all shades of purple and pink. Newspaper clippings and gemstones were glued all over creating an electrifying collage I couldn't stop studying.

I watched him apply gold leaf in a part of the canvas and smiled.

He was so talented. So wonderful. So pure. Everything I did was for him. To protect him. But he'd just turned eighteen and Horus was getting greedier. I didn't know how long I'd be able to keep him at bay. And the thought terrified me.

I had to find a way. I had to find a way to pay our debt to Horus and free us from his grasp. I had to find a way to save Gene from being subjected to the god's whims.

"Hey," he said. "I didn't hear you come home."

I opened the door a little more and smiled at my brother.

"Yeah. I jumped straight in the shower. But I'm heading back out soon."

"When will you stop working so hard? That is the question of the century." He pushed his glasses up and wiped his cheek with his arm, but it only spread more paint across his face. I chuckled.

"Will we ever see your face clean again? That is the question."

Gene rolled his eyes and turned to his art.

"That's new," I said, looking at the canvas. "When did you even start it?"

"Last night." He shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

He hadn't been able to sleep since the fateful day when our lives had changed for good. No matter what potion I concocted, it didn't help. No magic could heal trauma.

"It looks good," I said.

"It's not finished yet. It'll look much better when it's finished."

"It's pretty perfect now."

He grimaced and studied the canvas for a moment.

"I don't know."

"What are you trying to say with it?"

Gene put down the gold leaf and the paintbrush and sighed.

"Hmmm…something about immortalizing the immediate past and the sense of self. I'm not sure if it comes through yet."

I walked up to my brother and squeezed his shoulder, reassuringly.

"Sure it does. The clippings represent the recent past, right? The crystals represent you, your magic and the gold the memorializing of everything."

Gene beamed at my interpretation and kissed my cheek.

"Thanks. I like that."

"You better finish up and get some rest. Or I'll tell on you."

Gene nodded and I left him alone knowing he wouldn't go to sleep until it was done. Which would probably be tomorrow. If we were lucky.

My stomach grumbled and the next door I walked through led me to the kitchen.

Unlike the rest of the house, the kitchen was state-of-the-art. It had to be, considering how much time we spent in here.

Yaya was sitting at the bar stool by the kitchen island, her fingers twirling in the air as she read a gossip rag. Opposite her, a wooden spoon stirred in a pot seemingly of its own volition.

"Andrea, you're home! Hungry? I've made beef stew with peas. It's almost ready," she said in Greek, the only language she could speak.

"I know, Yaya. The whole house smells amazing," I said and kissed her cheek on my way to the stove.

I made to take a plate and help myself when Yaya reminded me it was almost done. Knowing not to argue with Yaya about cooking, I put the plate down and checked my watch.

"I've got to run soon," I told her and grabbed a new pot and put it beside the stew.

It was time to make my own concoction.

The herb and spice cupboard moved closer to me so I could use it with ease, and I turned the heat on.

Three bay leaves, six cloves, nine star anise, a pinch of lavender buds and moon water.

I brought them to a boil and then added obsidian dust and salt.

The heat over the pot charged into magic and the liquid turned luminescent. I finished off with a few leaves of mugwort and three butterfly pea flowers. I stirred three times clockwise and nine counter-clockwise then grabbed the athame, pressing the tip of its blade against my index finger, and squeezed until three drops of my blood spilled into the potion, turning it into the wonderful sapphire potion I couldn't live without.

"I wish you'd tell me why you keep making the Apokryphon Elixir."

I ignored her, like I always did when it came to the potion. No one could know why I needed to ward my mind off, especially her.

I'd tried to hide the fact I'd been making it but eventually I’d been caught red handed. But just because I’d gotten caught didn't mean I would ever tell her why I needed it. If she found out, she'd march right out of this house and die trying to avenge her grandson.

And I couldn't have that.

I distributed the elixir into little glass vials and ate my dinner before I grabbed one vial, downed it and walked out of the front door.

Java Jinx, the cafe/magic shop was right around the corner and under my hands it turned to Moon Jinx once again. My very own cocktail bar.

I'd only started a month or so ago, but word was already starting to spread about the new magical cocktail bar. It might not be much, I might not own this place, it might just be a pop-up bar I’d gotten through deception but it was my own. And no one could take that away from me.

A young gay couple, one in a suit and the other in casual clothes walked through the glass door and I put on my best, genuine smile as they approached the bar.

"Welcome to Moon Jinx, where all your dreams come true in one drink."

At two in the morning, and after Moon Jinx had closed for the night, I made my way to King's College and the Maughan Library as instructed by the note Horus had given me.

Two other guys were there. I recognized them from Horus's house although I'd never been on a job with them. "You're late," one of them said.

I ignored him. "Are we doing this or what? Who has the next step?"

The third guy raised his hand. Horus disseminated information like it was his most valuable property. There were always three or more people on every mission, each with their own set of skills and one piece of the puzzle that they were unable to share. He might control us but even so he didn’t want to risk any of his jobs getting hijacked. Horus might be cruel but he was also smart. A dangerous combination by all accounts.

"Lead the way," I told him.

He walked to the front door of the gothic library and twisted his hand in front of the lock. There was a click and as he grabbed the handle to open the door, I took a deep breath.

Magic crackled around me as time froze.

"Let's go," said the second guy seeing me, and he marched forward.

They ran through reception and I followed them at my own pace down a long corridor, through the famous dodecagonal reading room before I had to stop.

I clapped my hands to get my accomplices’ attention and they both pressed themselves against the wall while I ducked under a doorway before I allowed myself another breath.

Time flowed back around us, not that it made much of a difference. This place was as abandoned at this time as anything.

I gave myself a beat or two to steady myself and find my bearings and inhaled deeply again before I pushed through and went up the stairs. We reached a display room when my throat tightened and I warned the other guys again.

I heard one of them sigh. I ignored him and tried to fill my lungs.

I hated this part. This part of me that was so intrinsically linked with my power that made me both an asset and a liability. But maybe that was also what was protecting me. Who knew what more Horus would ask of me if my power was limitless. It made the hairs on my arms raise at the very thought.

"Ready?" one of the two asked and I snapped a no before I closed my eyes.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Rinse, repeat.

My heartbeat was wild and my lungs struggled regardless of how much oxygen I filled them with.

Damn it.

I dug in my pockets and took out my inhaler.

I brought it to my lips and took one puff of Beclometasone, Formoterol and magic and held my breath.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The effect was instant. I stopped wheezing and my heart rate settled.

"Okay," I told them and took another deep breath.

The guys came out from the shadows where they'd hidden from the CCTV and we walked the length of the room.

There were a number of older weathered books on display. The second guy who had led the mission stopped in front of one of them and the third guy used his unlocking magic to make the glass display case disappear.

I closed the book and took it in my hands.

Codex Evocationum , read the title.

I had no idea what it meant but if Horus wanted it, it was nothing good.

"Let's get out of here," said the second guy and we ran.

We made it back to Horus's lair. We walked into his office but he immediately dismissed the other two guys. I was his favorite after all. Fuck knew why.

"Great job, Andrew, as usual," he said when I presented him with the codex. "You will be well-rewarded."

I didn't reply.

I didn't need his money. Not anymore. I just wanted my freedom. But that was never going to happen.

"Will that be all for tonight?" I ask instead.

"Why? Are you in a rush?" he asked and walked around the desk and ran his fingers across my face.

"No," I said. "Just…just wondering."

"Well, no. That won't be all," he said.

He reached for something on his desk and held it before me.

It was a paintbrush with gold residue on the bristles.

"Gene!" I shouted. "What have you done? Where is he?"

Before I could control it, my asthma returned tenfold and I gasped for breath while my mind went through all the different scenarios of what he could have done to my innocent little brother.

"Stop," he commanded me and I had no choice but to stand still as he set the paintbrush back down. "On your knees, boy."

My legs turned to jelly while my lungs were on fire from not being able to breathe properly. I was suffocating and there was nothing I could do about it.

Gene.

What had he done to Gene?

The monster. The fucker. The demon.

I hated him. I hated him with all my might.

"You know what you need to do," he said and guided himself into my mouth. His dick seared my insides. My eyes went so blurry I couldn't even see anymore. All I could do was cry and blow my master. "Don't you?"

I nodded, barely, but I nodded.

"Speak up!" he shouted.

I pulled back long enough to say "Yes, master," and then he drove himself into my mouth once again.

"Good. And don't worry, boy. Your brother is fine. For now."

I closed my eyes and fresh tears ran down my cheeks.

"As long as you do what you need to do, he'll be fine. Consider him a…an insurance for your continued devotion."

I tried to breathe but I was still having an asthma attack. He wouldn't let me go until I made him come.

And that was what I did. Brought him all the way to absolution and just when he was about to spill, he pulled out, released me from my command and he came in his palm.

I immediately reached for my inhaler and took a puff and counted down. Counted down to what felt like the end.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three…

I exhaled, unable to hold it in any longer.

I had to find a way to free myself. I had to free myself and save my brother.

It was now or never.