Chapter Thirteen #2
She had expected anger. A demand for her to repeat herself, to explain what she was thinking.
But Kai stood back and emitted a mean laugh.
“Soliz knew we had Menon – they’d guessed, anyhow, but now…
” He laughed again, chilling her. “Even those with the best of intentions will crack after what the priests at Soliz are capable of, and then they’ll learn all about our Menon Incarnate.
Aye, I shouldn’t have kept Lina’s identity from you – hindsight’s a bitch and all – but at least I’m not the stupidest fucking person in the room right now. ”
Ione slapped him so hard her bones rang. And, another surprise, Kai merely sighed and straightened his jacket.
“Right,” he said, healing his bloodied lip.
He seemed to be thinking, but what he said next did nothing to pacify her: “Your one knows who you are. And we can suppose, from your remarkable skill level, that she knows you can’t control Menon’s powers.
Leaving you very vulnerable, and very, very tempting to the Moths’ Archpriest.”
“Someday,” Ione whispered, “I will kill you.”
“Well don’t warn me, I love surprises.” He tapped his chin. “You tell her anything else I ought to know? Any exciting food allergies?” A hint of impatience crept into his tone. “You didn’t happen to mention where, precisely, the very fragile wardstone keeping us all safe is located, no?”
Ione shook her head, her face buried in her hands. Lina’s smile flashed in her mind, the memory of her warm fingertips on Ione’s face. The sweet rain of her lips against her cheeks, her eyelids.
Was it all a lie? Was she so na?ve, so desperate for that warmth?
“Have you had a word with Menon about it?” Kai challenged her. “Is She gonna make an appearance at some point?”
Ione’s breath hitched, her hand still over her mouth, ashamed, ashamed, ashamed. She heard a small sigh, felt an unsure hand pat her shoulder. She didn’t have it in her to fight him off.
“I am useless,” she whispered, and Kai didn’t tell her that wasn’t true. “I had promised I would protect her and I can’t even protect myself. And now…”
She looked at him, at the lingering wardstrings, more sensed than seen. At the merciless, glacial power emanating from him, depthless, even when she could tell he worked to mute it.
Just say the word, he had told her once, and we can bring the world to its knees.
Ione drew herself up. Steeled herself. “Your offer, Warden.”
His lips curled, amused. “Oh?”
“Let Artem and Mahina unite.” She squeezed her eyes shut, dizzy. Drowning. “Swear your loyalty to me and whatever you can glean from my heritage and my position is yours.”
He was silent for some time, and when Ione opened her eyes, she found him grinning. “Marriage?” he said at last, slowly, as though testing the word out. His amusement sharpened somewhat, felt like the edge of a knife. “You people really do think the worst of me.”
A deep, cold ache formed in the pit of her stomach.
“Aye, I can work with this.” He gazed out the nearest window, to the glistening turquoise sea.
Southward, as though he could see his island of birth from here.
“This works just fine. The prodigal son returns, and with Menon Herself on his arm. They love a love story, southerners.” He turned his grin onto her.
“And a good love story inspires the most ruthless fighters.”
Ruthlessness. Yes – he liked to fight. He might like to fight for her.
“Oh,” he breathed, pressing a palm over his stomach. He made an odd noise, something between a laugh and a cough, at once anxious and jubilant. “Swords will hate me for this.”
Ione shook her head, shook the thought away. “River will understand,” she murmured. “Someday.”
He loosed a breath, evidently cured, and held out a hand.
“Ione Artem,” he declared, “Menon Incarnate. Glorify my name and I will act in your stead. I will spill blood, strike down Sowelan’s armies, raze the ground they stood on.
” His smile widened, took on a foxlike quality.
“Glorify me,” he repeated, “And I will protect you.”
Ione almost laughed. This, after she’d so proudly declared her protection of Lina. Nonetheless she swallowed and took his hand, letting him kiss the backs of her fingers.
The gentle touch, the startling intimacy of his lips against her cold skin, hauled her back to just yesterday morning. Ione trembled, seeing so keenly Lina’s shy smiles, hearing the pealing bell of her laugh. Shrinking, Ione banished the image, the hurt, the humiliation from her mind.
Her infatuation with Lina was new, fragile. She could kill it if she tried hard enough.
“Deal,” Ione said, pushing Kai down to sit on the chaise lounge.
Kai blinked, blatantly confused when Ione leaned on one knee over him. “I, uh – ” He flushed, words caught in his throat. “I don’t expect this from you. I mean, this doesn’t have to be part of the deal.”
Her face heated. “Is that a no?”
“Gods, are you – ” He choked on a laugh. “I, ah – just don’t want you to feel you have to.”
“I don’t,” she said, and she didn’t. “I want all traces of her gone. I want her erased from me.” When he didn’t answer, she took his chin in one hand, tipping his face towards her. “I need an exorcism.”
His mouth spread again into a slow grin. Gleeful, as he pulled her to straddle his lap. “And I need a god.”
She took him in, acquainted herself for the first time with the details of his face.
Faint, feathery scars on freckled, light brown skin; a slightly-crooked nose, an intelligent gleam in his eyes.
Kai bore her scrutiny patiently, his hands on the small of her back.
His eyelids fluttered when she tangled her fingers in his hair, pushed his head back to expose his neck.
Pliable. Willing. “Swear to me,” she commanded softly.
His thumbs brushed either side of her spine. And just as softly, “I swear.”
She gripped lightly and he let out a small noise. She liked it. She could like him. She was made sick and this would cure her.
Only after she kissed him did his hands move, one pulling her tighter against him, the other sliding around to her front and cupping her breasts through her dress, gently, like he was holding back.
Ione pushed the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders and arched, arms wrapping around his shoulders and guiding his mouth to her throat.
She shivered at the sensation of teeth nipping her collarbone, the silky heat of his tongue on her breasts; he unfastened the buttons of his trousers and freed himself, already hard, and guided her hand to wrap around him.
This was what she needed. Distraction, release, someone else. Someone strong enough to hold her up.
He shifted, laying Ione onto the chaise lounge and kneeling between her legs.
He shrugged off his jacket, his shirt, all falling into a heap on the floor; Ione watched him, waited.
She had slept with only one person before, a few times, awkward fumbles that neither of them talked about after; she anticipated the sharp sting, the heavy weight atop her.
But Kai kissed her like he might have meant it, pressed his lips into the hollow at the base of her neck, licked the peaks of her breasts until Ione cried out and dug her fingernails into his shoulders.
His hands were almost reverent as they hiked her dress out of the way, scarred fingers squeezing her thighs; he kissed her ribs, her stomach, her hipbones.
“One request.” His face hovered inches from her, unaware of how her heart pounded in its cage, of the liquid heat thrumming between her legs. He pressed his lips there, his tongue darting out, flicking; he smiled when Ione jolted.
“Call me Kai,” he murmured. “Not Warden. Not you.” His eyes blazed. “Try to remember, Ione, that I’m not your enemy.”
Her stomach tightened. She nodded and whispered, for the first time, “Kai.”
“Good.” He smiled, lowering. “Now do me one better and say it when you come.”
Ione sucked in a breath, her fingers twining in his hair at the wet slash of his tongue on her. Every thought left her, every pain and fear and worry dissipated at the burning touch of his mouth on her body.
Ione threw her head back, arching as heat surged through her. Her pulse roared in her ears, loud enough that she could barely hear herself beg, hear his name on her lips, hear her name on his.
This was what she needed, she thought over and over.
Release crested up her spine, and she was still hissing his name when he slammed into her, his head bowed into the crook of her neck, his hands pinning her wrists to the velvet cushion. She wrestled one arm free and wrapped it around him, nails raking down his back.
She saw white, felt something leaving her, a ghost, a memory. Lina was gone and she was cured.
Lina was gone and she was empty.