Chapter 7
AARON
Rough hands pushed me to the wall with surprising strength. One minute, I’d been toweling sweat from my neck as I left the makeshift stadium through a private service corridor, the next I was being manhandled. Which was impressive because I wasn’t technically just a man anymore.
The air still vibrated with cheers and bass from the show.
“Don’t you ever do that again, do you understand me?” Timothy stepped back, his face so red it reached the tips of his ears. His elegant three-piece suit stood out amidst Menaggio’s excess, a single tasteful note amid the cacophony of gilded walls, mirrored panels that screamed money.
He didn’t belong in this place. The hotel bent itself around Seth’s ego, but Timothy stood there like it all offended him on principle.
I couldn’t help the smile from spreading across my face. “You came.”
Why was it so hard to stay mad at him?
Maybe because he turned my insides into a carousel ride of dancing animals complete with cheerful music. Or maybe because he was fussy enough for the both of us.
“Yes, I came,” he hissed. “I’m here to keep an eye on Seth, to see if he’s going to cause me trouble, but no. It’s you. You are the one driving me to the edge of my control.”
The edge of his control?
Well, wasn’t that interesting?
“I was fine up there,” I said casually even as I glanced down at his white-knuckled fists.
It was a lie. My body was still fizzing. The adrenaline laced every nerve ending, the ache in my ribs a living thing. I was seconds away from becoming an exploding flesh balloon on the concrete ground miles and miles below.
Granted, I had extensive healing abilities, but that didn’t mean I was in a hurry to test those out. But I wanted to see if Timmy would call my bluff.
“You…” His voice cracked. He inhaled sharply through his nose, nostrils flaring.
“I watched you flip—FLIP—on a wire thinner than my finger, hundreds of feet above concrete, with the wind—” He gestured wildly with one hand, mimicking the gust that had nearly killed me.
“And you, you reckless fool, I know you are going to do it again.”
The next words slipped out before I could catch them. “You could stop me.”
He pulled back, just enough to look at me properly. His eyes emitted an eerie glow, casting a warmth from his deep dark irises. “Don’t tempt me, Aaron,” he whispered.
It hit me then, how terrified he was of losing me. The idea made me dizzy. No one had ever looked at me like that. Like I was precious. Like my fall would have destroyed their whole world.
There was a current of violence contained in his stillness, in the way his chest moved, shallow and quick, in the glare that would have sent mortals to their knees in terror.
I held his gaze, defiant, because I was still flying, still poised on that wire in the sky with the city glittering beneath me. But if Timothy would take the plunge with me, I’d gladly step off from such a great height.
“That’s all I want to do,” I admitted, as every muscle coiled and tensed with hope.
Reach out for me. Take me. I’m right here. I’m all yours.
He let out a strangled noise, half-laugh, half-snarl, and then stepped away, breaking whatever spell had settled over us. My already cool body iced over.
“This is exactly why I can’t form such attachments,” he said, voice grave again. “You may be immortal now, but you still seek your own death.”
“Good thing you are God of the Dead, then,” I shot back before stepping into his personal space, needing to close the distance between us.
“This is bullshit, you realize that, right? If you were so afraid of creating connections, why would you be friends with Miranda? You know she’ll die one day too.
Will you regret spending time with her? Or would you cherish the time you had together? ”
“It’s not the bloody same,” he said, trying to avoid my gaze but not pulling away.
I didn’t know getting him this riled up would make him extra...British. Now I wanted to push harder, see what other English-isms I could provoke out of him before he snapped.
“Come on, Thoth,” I said, licking my lips.
His ancient name delicious in my mouth. “You want me. Why don’t you just..
.take me?’ My fingers skimmed over the hairs at the nape of his neck as I pulled his body flush to mine.
His clean, masculine scent didn’t just wash over me, it saturated me.
I breathed him in all the way to my toes and still needed more.
His impossibly dark lashes fluttered, threatening to shut with pleasure.
It took everything in me not to throw him on the nearest surface and ravage his mouth.
Find the dark depths of him, forcing his strength to meet mine.
But I couldn’t do that. Timothy had to be the one to break the barrier between us.
Though it would be my fangs sinking in his neck.
A rush of blood exited my brain via the south door.
I gently tilted his head to the side, exposing and lengthening his elegant neck, holding him tighter against me.
“Don’t you want me?” It came out a husk as my thirst surged to the forefront, gathering in the tips of my fangs. I gently scratched his jugular with them, my teeth actually ached from holding back.
The god’s fingers tightened on my hips at the same time his jaw flexed. Pressed together like this, there was no denying his hardness, the stiffness centered at my own pelvis. I wanted to penetrate, sink into him on so many levels that I was determined he’d end up calling me a god while I—
Timothy pushed, letting me go. It felt like I was free-falling backward though I stood stiffly.
When I met his gaze, I found dark lightning flashing in his eyes. “We can’t. The rules forbid it.” It came out through tight lips.
My own mouth twisted with frustration and petty desire to cover his, kissing him so hard and furious he’d have to soften and give way under me.
“Fuck the rules,” I practically spat the words, getting in his face again. “You are a god, Timothy. You are the reaper of souls. Everyone must answer to you, which means you can make the rules.”
His expression was still flat, unmovable, tinged with a distant sadness. “That means I, above all else, must adhere to the rules. I set the example. If I descend into chaos, then everything else will too. And I simply can’t allow that.” Rolling his shoulders, he turned to walk out of the room.
I grabbed his bicep, spinning him around. “You need a little chaos in your life,” I said before crashing my lips down on his.
The groan he let out could have been interpreted as one of disgust or resistance, but as I claimed his mouth with a hunger that pulsated from the marrow of my bones, he met me with the same fervor.
Short nails clawed down my scalp as I grabbed at him, pulling him fully to me, not willing to let him get away.
We’d kissed before, but that was when I was human.
That alone had haunted me for years. The intense, all-consuming power and passion that replayed every time I lay down to sleep. It was also the first memory I revisited before opening my eyes in the morning.
But this, this was two angry, powerful thunderclouds clapping into each other. We struck each other with lightning, electricity rolling through us as we passed the force back and forth, pushing us to a heightened peak.
Timothy’s unique taste was addictive, but it soon morphed and layered as our tongues combated for dominance until our kisses tasted like a convergence of both of us.
My head snapped back as he fisted my hair, angling my throat before he attacked it.
He unleashed all his frustration on me with scalding hot sucking and biting.
My groan was broken and loud. My dick was so hard, I was positive there wasn’t any blood left in my brain.
The dizzy spell only heightened Timothy’s effect on me.
“Fuck,” I rasped, bucking my hips, needing more.
Then there was nothing but cold air around me as my ass hit the wall. The contact broke so abruptly my body stayed pitched forward, reaching, while my mind struggled to catch up to the empty space he left behind. Despite no longer needing to breathe, I found myself panting.
Timothy ran a frustrated hand through his hair, cheeks flushed, mouth wet and eyes dark. “No,” he barked. I couldn’t tell if he was yelling it at me or himself.
Without meeting my eye, he went on. “This cannot happen. The return of Sekhors to the new world is still too new, too tenuous. If I were to rip into another god’s blood-bond, it could lead to a brutal war of gods claiming vampires for their own.
I would be seen as volatile and weak, and I’d constantly have to defend my position. ”
I surged to my feet. “This isn't about anyone else, and you know it.” Anger seethed from my words. “This is about you, me, and Seth.”
It was almost imperceptible but I caught his flinch at my master’s name.
His posture softened. “Maybe if...maybe in a couple hundred years...when the political climate has calmed—”
“Or when Grim is back and gives you permission?” I didn’t hide the disgust in my voice.
Timothy’s gaze flashed at me.
I rolled my eyes. “You think I’m the only one bound?
You are so bound to Grim, to this position, to the rules, you are more trapped than I am.
The truth is, Timothy…” I stepped closer until our shoulders brushed.
“The truth is,” I said quieter now, my eyes fixed on some distant point beyond him.
My fingers twitched at my sides, fighting the urge to touch him even as I prepared to twist the knife.
“You may be a god, but you treat yourself like a mortal. You’ve chosen fear over power every single time. ”
Before he could respond, I clipped his shoulder as I passed by him, walking out the door without looking back. Because I didn’t want to see the pained look on his face.
Even without looking, I could hear it in the uptick of his heart, of the slight but sharp inhale. I could feel the air rippling around his muscles as they coiled in response to my dig.
The truth hurt, but he needed to hear it. Just like I needed to somehow cut my heart out of his chest and take it back as my own.