8. Violent Delights #2
He sniffed and moved to light a cigarette, which he puffed three times in a steady row before he gestured to the door.
“I get it, alright. You want me to keep my hooks out of your kid, but news flash: nothing I said was false. You are a ticking time bomb, and someone needs to make sure that kid knows what you are capable of. He’s the next God of Death, and it’s his responsibility to keep you in line. ”
“I do not need anyone to keep me in line, especially the likes of you.”
“Is that all you came here for? To berate me? I’ll have you know that God of Death or not, you have no right to enter my home and treat me this way, especially after all I’ve done for you.”
I settled down to his surprise, my shoulders slacking as my body relaxed.
I was going too far past what I had actually planned to do and needed to get to the task at hand.
“You’re right. You do not deserve such cruel treatment.
You were simply looking out for me, as you’ve always done.
” I brought my hand up and let it trail his cheek, then his neck.
He swallowed against my touch, his eyes moving to follow the path my hand took.
“I suppose I just wanted to reconnect a bit, to see what you’ve been up to these past few years, and things came out the wrong way. Do you think you can forgive me?”
“I-…I suppose I could…” His lip quivered slightly as he brought his hand up to catch mine. I didn’t pull away to his surprise, which made him swallow again. “You’re… I mean to say…” he cleared his throat, “Is there anything else I can do for you, while you’re here?”
I used my index finger to tilt his chin up, then run my thumb over the corner of his mouth.
His gaze was empty as it bore into mine, and his jaw taut.
“I forgot what it was like to be this close to you. To smell your cologne, to feel your skin… I wonder… do you taste the same? Like cigars and honey?”
Ambermourn shoved my hand away abruptly, huffing in anger. “Whatever sick trick you’re trying to play, I won’t fall for it!”
“Ashlynn knows I’m here,” I started to his astonishment. “She knows why I’m here, as a matter of fact. I thought you’d be a bit more excited about the prospect of-…”
“You should go.” He pointed to the main doors. “I don’t need you filling my head with nonsense feelings that already took years for me to bury. You are married and have been for thousands of years. I have accepted you are no longer mine, no, that you never were.”
“What if I could be?”
He spun on his heel and cut me a side glare. “Don’t play with my emotions, Atlas.”
“Fine, fine.” I ghosted to the doors and opened them slowly, lingering in the entryway for as long as I possibly could.
He watched me do this for a full beat before rushing up to grab my shirt, pull me in a circle, and crush his lips down on mine.
The feeling took my breath away and left me swaying a little when we broke apart.
He kissed me one more time just to enjoy it again, then parted, his lips inches from mine as he spoke.
“You’re not fucking with me?” he breathed, his expression desperate.
I let out a small laugh, a sarcastic sound. “Depends on what you’re definition of fucking with is. I could do much worse, if you’ll allow me.”
He slid me a key, an old silver thing that had been collecting dust inside his armoire. It glistened under the lights of the crystal chandelier above my head, matching his now excited eyes. “Come back later this week. I have to work on these tomes for now, but I want to see you again.”
“We have much to discuss, after all. Like what you’ve been up to in my absence.” I nodded to the thick books on his desk. “What are you working on, anyway?”
His bright eyes dulled back to the dangerous, pale grey they were before. He let a frail smirk was over his face and leaned against the wall to block me from looking down the hall. “Well, nothing, really. It’s not important. Just, fixing some books for an old friend.”
“I see.” I leaned forward and took his chin so I could run my lips over his, and this time, he swayed into the kiss eagerly.
He did, in fact, still taste of honey and cigars, a taste that hadn’t washed over me in centuries, but one I remembered like no other.
It was bitter, now, compared to when I had enjoyed it in the past. It was deceitful, holding me hostage, but I knew better than to crumble underneath it.
“I’ll be back Saturday night. Save some good wine for me, and a couple of cigarettes. We’ll have dinner and catch up.”
“I’d like that.”
“Oh, and grow your hair out. I like something I can grip.” My comment made his cheeks flush wildly as I waved over my shoulder and made my way into the frigid night.
I shuffled through the door of McBride Hall and set my things down on one of the couches under the grand windows.
From the kitchen, the smell of raspberry jam blossomed, perfuming the air with its intoxicating aura.
I followed my nose to find Ashlynn and Zephryine jarring the substance, spooning big scoops of the seeded mixture into the glass receptacles.
I moved as a shadow and snuck up behind Ashlynn, reappearing to stick my finger into the jar and take a taste.
Ashlynn slapped me with a wooden spoon. “You little devil! You just ruined a whole jar!”
“Good. Now I get my own,” I cackled as I licked my finger clean.
She rolled her eyes heavily at Zephryine before screwing the lid on tightly. “How did things go with Ambermourn?” she hesitantly asked.
I leaned against the counter and rolled my lips loudly. “Well, I have him where I want him. I almost blew it, but luckily, redirected myself. He fell for it instantly.”
“And… did you need to, you know… be intimate to do so?” Zephryine pressed nervously.
“Of course. Did you expect any less?” I morosely whispered.
Ashlynn set her pot down to clap her hands clean on her apron.
She turned and set them on my shoulders, looking me in the eye to make sure I was listening.
“Atlas, this is such a bad idea. This whole thing with Ambermourn is going to bring back horrific memories. Are you, I mean, can you actually stomach the idea of being romantically involved with that man again, especially after what happened?”
“What makes me more stomach sick is knowing I am betraying you,” I grumbled as I reached over her for a slice of bread to smooth the warm jam over. I bit into the stale slice, chewing carefully to get the taste of Ambermourn out of my mouth.
She kissed my cheek warmly, leaving her lips there for a beat before pulling away gingerly. “That’s the least of my concerns. I know you will come back to me, you always have, and that this is all a formality to a grander cause. I just-…?”
“Shh, enough. I’m fine and will be. We need information, and we need to follow any leads we can get.
I’ve done much worse than reconnect with an old flame to gain information.
” My expression sunk in the reflection from the toaster, which I stared at emptily.
“If I can protect Nick in any way possible, then it’s worth the sacrifice. I’ll live, I promise.”
“If you say so…” She slid the jars into the fridge and closed the door firmly. “Let’s just hope this is all worth it.”
“Yeah, to say the least,” I murmured unsurely.