Chapter 3 #2
I quickly cut the engine and flicked the lights off, not wanting to draw attention to myself.
The incessant throbbing got worse, and I looked around instinctively, feeling like there was a source that I was missing.
A reason for the chaotic, overwhelming things my body was doing without my permission.
And then I found it.
My gaze snagged on the man standing in the shadows next to Rae.
He was leaning casually back against the fence, further in the shadows than she was.
Rae was about my height and he was at least a foot taller, wearing all black.
His hair looked black too, and messy. I couldn’t make out his features, though he kept playing with a lighter that illuminated pale hands covered in colorful ink.
If I got close enough, I knew what I’d find on his face though. Eyes rimmed in dark purple that bled to red around the iris. The Mark of the Daimon. The enemy, I reminded myself, though it sounded more like Mother’s voice in my head than my own.
He didn’t feel like my enemy. Why didn’t he feel like my enemy?
I was opening the car door before I had time to question my actions, needing to get closer, like I wouldn’t be able to breathe unless I was near him.
He was already looking at me as I exited the vehicle, posture tense like he was deciding whether to fight or flee.
“Here’s my ride,” Rae announced, bounding energetically towards the car and throwing her arms around me. The man stepped forward, brow furrowed like he was going to rip her off me before forcing himself to stay still.
Absently, I returned Rae’s hug, my hand finding an exposed patch of skin on her back where her too-small top had ridden up.
I flattened my palm and was vaguely aware of my magic—Anesidora’s magic—working through me, but it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the beautiful man in front of me.
And oh my word , he was beautiful. I could see his features more clearly in the dim streetlight.
Messy black hair, olive skin, dark stubble that covered his jaw, and a spectacularly kissable mouth.
Not that I’d ever done that before, but I imagined his mouth would be great at it.
I attempted to remind myself not to think that way, but I couldn’t help it.
I didn’t want to rein in my inappropriate thoughts at that moment.
I wanted to act on them.
While his posture was protective, it wasn’t overly confident. He didn’t strut around like the world couldn’t touch him the way most daimons did. And he was definitely a daimon.
His daimonic eyes, the fascinating blend of purple and red that Rae wouldn’t be able to see, didn’t detract from his features. It made him more appealing, if anything. I was definitely wired wrong. Other agathos didn’t think like me.
Or this was the Goddess of Night’s curse.
Or perhaps Anesidora’s punishment for praying to a goddess other than her. I was experiencing attraction for the first time—something that was only meant to happen with my soul bonds—with a daimon .
“Hellooooo, Earth to Grace,” Rae sang, gripping my shoulders and shaking me slightly. “Oh, are you checking him out? He’s hot, right? His name is Riot. He doesn’t want to have sex with me.”
Riot. Goddess, even his name suggested trouble on an epic scale.
“Riot, this is my friend Grace. You should be so flattered she’s checking you out. I’ve known Grace for years, she’s practically a nun —”
“You shouldn’t be here,” he interjected, looking at me like I was the only thing he saw. His voice was low, with an almost melancholy lilt to it. “It’s not safe.”
My heart beat harder, like the organ was trying to escape my body, to close the distance between us.
“Come with me.”
Was that strange, breathy sound my voice? Had I just suggested he leave with me? No, I hadn’t even suggested it. I’d demanded it.
“Ooh, that was sex voice,” Rae teased, half falling into the passenger seat. She was trying to kill me, I was convinced of it.
Riot was silent for a long moment, staring at me like he wasn’t quite sure if I was real or not, his lips turned down.
Rejection clawed at my insides like a living, breathing beast, ready to consume me at the first opportunity.
I couldn’t understand this need for him to stay with me, this burning urge to keep him close.
It couldn’t be the pull of a soul bond. Agathos only bonded to other agathos. Whatever this was…it wasn’t that.
I didn’t think I could just walk away though.
“Alright,” Riot agreed cautiously, moving towards the back seat. I blinked twice, startled at his easy acceptance. He was carrying a bag that seemed a little too big for a night out. Maybe he was going somewhere? Would it be inappropriate to ask?
Probably. I’d met him all of five minutes ago and I wanted to get inside his head and understand everything about him.
I exhaled the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding as I rushed around the car to the driver’s seat. He was right to say I wasn’t safe here, and I’d already spent too long hanging around.
“Are you taking him home?” Rae all but screamed as both Riot and I got in the car. I winced at the sound in the confined space, focusing on turning the car on and getting the hell away from this street I had no business being on. “Are you going to lose your virginity tonight, Grace?!”
I actually hated her a little when she wasn’t sober.
I shouldn’t. We were meant to be guiding lights and safe harbors for regular human beings, to keep them away from the darkness. Hatred was meant to be reserved for those like the man sitting in the backseat of my car.
But Rae wasn’t a nice person to be around when she was wasted, and I wasn’t good enough to overlook it.
“That’s an inappropriate question,” I forced out, hands gripping the steering wheel as I looked both ways before turning out on the main road that led to the shelter.
“You’ve got big virgin energy,” Rae persisted, twisting in her seat to look at Riot. “Girl, I think you’re being a little ambitious. He’s going to want someone with more experience. I bet he’s got a big dick too.”
“I’m glad that you’re at least equal opportunity with your offensive comments,” Riot said wryly, though there was no mistaking the censure in his voice.
Apparently, his chastisement was more effective than mine, because Rae was silent the rest of the five minute drive to Hope House, and practically threw herself out the door the moment we pulled up in front of the enormous brick building.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I called after Rae, who pointedly ignored me.
Hope House slept 32 adults, taking singles only, and was open 24 hours for people to come in.
There was a good chance they were full for the night, but I had no doubt whoever was on the front desk would be able to accommodate Rae now she was armed with a little of the good luck I’d slipped her during our hug.
Now I just needed to get home before I had to pay the cost of her good fortune, because I really couldn’t afford bad luck with a daimon in the back of my car.
Even though it was usually the human staff rostered on at the shelter at night, it was no safer for Riot to hang around here than it was for me to hang around Onslaught.
“My place isn’t far from here,” I murmured, pulling away from the curb after I was confident Rae had been let inside. I glanced back at a quiet Riot in the back seat who was nodding his head absently, the purple in his irises catching in the street light.
He was breathtaking, and visibly confused.
“Do you often get in cars with strangers?” I joked weakly as I navigated the quiet streets, attempting to ease the awkward tension in the car.
“No,” he replied thoughtfully. “Do you often make strangers feel like they’re about to have a heart attack?”
“Never before,” I said faintly. Though my heart rate seemed to be dropping now that I was in his presence. Silver linings, I supposed.
I didn’t know what to make of his tone. He didn’t sound—or look—upset. He just seemed curious about what was going on, head tilted thoughtfully to the side as he examined me in the rearview mirror.
His calm made me feel calmer, which was an unexpected bonus. Usually, I needed a cup of hot tea and several hours to overthink everything before I accomplished this level of zen.
This certainly seemed like the magic the elders told us we would find someday. The perfect symmetry we were promised in our soul bonds, the reason we dreamed about finding them someday. Except it couldn’t be that. It was impossible for it to be that.
I pulled into my regular parking spot opposite my building and cut the engine, my hands shaking slightly as I undid my seat belt and pulled the key out of the ignition.
Riot was out of the car before I was, swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder and looking around with his brow furrowed. “Is it safe for you to live here?”
He didn’t seem surprised that I lived here, which confirmed a lingering suspicion I’d always had that the daimons in the area were perfectly aware of my presence here and just didn’t care.
I wished my community had that level of apathy sometimes.
“So far, it’s been fine,” I replied, locking the car and leading him across the street into my building, walking a little faster than usual. We were more likely to be seen by his people than mine in this area, but neither option felt good.
Whatever this was…we should probably keep it to ourselves.
“That is not very reassuring,” he muttered, sticking close to my back as I led him up the stairs and into my one bedroom apartment. Would he like it? I didn’t have people here often—none of my community liked to visit Milton socially—and I was suddenly questioning every decor choice I’d ever made.
“Would you like some tea?” I asked with a strained smile, pulling off my jacket and sneakers. Why did I have to be wearing the all-white knit loungewear? Could I look any more agathos if I tried?
The corner of Riot’s mouth twitched as he dropped his duffel bag and pulled off his black leather jacket and combat boots, leaving him in just black jeans and a fitted black t-shirt.
Without the jacket, the amount of ink on him was more obvious.
Every inch of his arms, even his hands, was covered in beautiful, intricate designs, all done in vibrant colors that stood out against his monotone outfit.
“You don’t have anything stronger?” he asked, eyes scanning the wall of photographs above my low bookshelf. Most were of me and my family, a few of my friends from back in Auburn like Verity Mae, but they tended to be from our teenage years.
“Um…Prosecco?”
Sugar, why was that little lip twitch thing he did so adorable? My mooning was reaching teenage girl levels.
“Sure,” he replied, those unique purple-red eyes sparkling with amusement. “Prosecco sounds great.”
Make that two. Drinking was allowed in moderation and only around others, both as a social activity and so they could hold you accountable.
The Prosecco was in the fridge in case I ever had to entertain at the last minute, and while this wasn’t quite the kind of emergency I’d planned on breaking it out for, I couldn’t think of a more appropriate time.
“Take a seat,” I said hastily, remembering my manners.
“I’ll just grab our drinks,” I added unnecessarily, backing up and knocking my elbow on the wall that divided the kitchen and living room in the process.
I forced a smile when Riot frowned like he was going to inspect my injury, before spinning on my heel and rushing into the small kitchen, silently mouthing ‘ouch’ as my eyes watered.
Maybe that was the bad luck I was owed for helping Rae? A small physical injury was the most common form of payment.
I wiped my palms on my thighs, trying to compose myself while I had a moment alone in the kitchen. I’d never felt so nervous before. Not in a fearful way—I was absolutely convinced that he was no danger to me—just in an unsure, embarrassed kind of way.
I had a grand total of zero experiences with romance, as was expected of me, but I had watched a lot of romantic comedies, and I was the nerdy teenage good girl crushing on the high school bad boy right now, which at age 25 was all kinds of mortifying.
Plus, embarrassment aside, it shouldn’t have been possible.
I glanced around the room as I pulled the chilled bottle out of the fridge, like I was expecting to find the eyes of one or both of the goddesses on me. Absurd. With a deep breath to steady my shaking hands, I set the bottle down and pulled two champagne flutes out of the cupboard.
Guilt was twisting painfully in my chest, tying my lungs into knots. Had I done this? I did ask the Goddess of Night for help in a moment of weakness.
No, it hadn’t even been a weakness—I’d known exactly what I was doing. I had let that dark, reckless voice in the back of my mind win.
Had I brought this on myself? On Riot ? He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t know what I’d done.
He was just minding his business, going about his evening, and now he was here.
Ripped from his real life because of the desperate pleas of a stranger to a goddess.
Surely, neither goddess was cruel enough to punish him for my actions?
I regularly gave thanks to Anesidora and asked for guidance, and I’d never had any kind of reaction. No sign that she was listening, no vague open-to-interpretation clues… nothing.
Surely a half-baked request shot off to the Goddess of Night wouldn’t result in a soul bond with a daimon appearing out of thin air an hour later. Did she even have that kind of power?
Anesidora and the Goddess of Night hated one another, that was common knowledge for both agathos and daimons. Surely, there was no way our souls could be tied together without cooperation from both of them? It couldn’t be done.
Whatever this connection was…it wasn’t a soul bond.
What scared me most was how little that bothered me.