Chapter Fifteen #2
A deep rumbling sound interrupts me and I stare up at the growling demon whose body posture has just closed up.
His thick arms are folded across his hard chest and he’s wearing a short-sleeve black T-shirt…
meaning the veiny forearm porn is strong.
With the tattoos as well…again, I find myself struggling to figure out why I hate him so much.
“Are you growling because I’m rambling, because I interrupted you…or what? It’s really unnecessary, either way.” Mmm, this coffee is good.
“Desdemon is a powerful vampyre. And pain is foreplay for Slash. They will be fine.”
“Are you jealous?” I stifle a laugh behind my cup and watch him narrow his dark green eyes at me. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Satapti, I have nothing to be jealous of. You are mine, and Desdemon would never cross the line of a soul-bonded chosen.” His words say no, but his body language still says he’s totally jealous.
“What is satapti?” Not the most pressing question I have.
“It means chosen. It seems a safer bet than mistakenly calling you Aiyana again.”
The smirk is back.
I don’t like it one bit…not at all.
“Fine. Danika…?” I rotate my wrist, gesturing for him to continue.
“Pierce and Slay have crossed the veil to search The Shade for any information. If we need to, we’ll extend into Ryetoh and Kohrye, but a lot of kyn pass through The Shade and loosen their lips in the taverns by the market. I have no doubt we’ll get some leads there.”
“I’m sorry, but also not sorry…you just said a lot of words that I don’t understand. You’re going to need to elaborate a little.” I guess now is when we’re circling back to the Hell thing. “Didn’t you say something yesterday about Kohrye being Hell?”
As if he’s preparing for story time, Zelos sits on the footstool in front of me, his knees apart, his elbows resting on them, and his full attention on me. I’m curled up in the armchair, nursing the dregs of my coffee, but it feels safe. For now, at least.
“Yes, Kohrye is kind of a version of what you know Hell to be. It’s where the darker supernaturals reside; the demons, monsters, vampyres, dragons, and the dark dwellers. Do you want me to keep going?” His forehead scrunches up a little, concern written all over his face.
My inner turmoil and confusion over learning yet more new things must be obvious.
“Yes, please, with the place names. I think the different variations of supernaturals can wait for another time because I’m barely processing the few I already know of.
” The coffee is all gone now, but I keep hold of my cup because I need something to do with my hands.
I think I’m still reeling over the fact that dragons are a real thing…
“Fair.” He nods respectfully. “So, Ryetoh is the opposite, it’s what you would call Heaven, and The Shade is Purgatory.
Although, it’s actually not. It is a neutral space, and it’s where souls are stored in the Soulkeeper’s Library before decisions are made as to where they’ll go.
Most varieties of kyn can be seen in The Shade for the neverending markets. ”
“Okay.” I inhale deeply, exhaling slowly with my lips pursed as I chew the inside of my cheek.
“So Heaven and Hell exist with different names…” I see he wants to interrupt and correct me, but I hold a finger up to stop him.
“I get that they’re not actually Heaven and Hell, but what myself and most of the world knows is actually only partial truth based on what you’re telling me is the reality. Yes?”
He nods again, thankfully keeping his beautiful luscious lips together.
“And The Shade is Purgatory?”
“In a sense, it’s a neutral ground that was once overrun with souls, now it is run equally by our thirteen Dei and the Moirai…or fates as you would know them. Kyn from all over choose to reside there or visit for the large daily markets.”
“And you’re saying that your horsemen friends are out searching for Danika?”
He chuckles, but again, he doesn’t correct me or try to speak. I almost want to demand that he praises me and calls me a good girl for understanding so much, but he’s being so respectful of my processing.
Disrespect me, damnit!
“Can you take me to Baba Yaga then?” Seeing as that is where we were supposed to be headed before all the shit went down that destroyed my literal world—and I’m clearly not getting a good girl out of him either.
“I can take you to the home she once lived in with you. As far as I’m aware, she’s still there, but it’s been almost two-thousand years.
Unfortunately, it’s all we have to go on.
Baba Yaga doesn’t exactly make herself known.
” He’s so careful not to make any sudden movements, sitting patiently in front of me and explaining every little thing.
The thousand more questions I have whirling through my mind will have to wait though, because I feel like all I’ve been doing is sitting around and getting fed information.
I need some action. And I need answers from someone who doesn’t give me the permanent ick—except when he’s giving me orgasms, because that is a revelation I never want to forget.
“Let’s go then. Where does she live?” Standing, I walk toward the door out of here and grip the handle.
Hack’s constant smirk seems to grow as he eyes me up and down before speaking. “As much as I love you wandering around in a towel, you should get dressed. It gets cold in Alaska for anthros.”
“I’m a witch, actually. According to every-fucking-body lately.” I return the smirk he seems so insistent on giving me.
“You are, but you’ll still live like an anthros until you’re thirty.” He winks and stands, heading toward the door I thought earlier must have been a closet. “Take your pick.” He gestures for me to enter the room and when I do…holy wow.
“Why do you have so many women’s clothes in here?” There are mirrors and glass doors, and glass drawers, and shelves of shoes. It’s like a his-n-hers closet. A lot of jeans and dark T-shirts on one side, and everything a woman could wish for in her closet on the other.
“They’re yours, Satapti. I had a personal shopper fill it with more modern clothes over the last few days because I remember how much you hated corsets.”
Why is this man so damn thoughtful?
It’s annoying.
It’s also strange that anything in here was ever mine. I don’t think I’m fully wrapping my head around the whole many-past-lives thing yet.
“Hmm. Can you leave so I can get dressed without you ogling me?”
“I could, but I really don’t want to.” His eyes darken and I swear I can feel the lust coming off him in waves.
“Are demons like genies, where I have to be very specific with what I ask?”
He laughs. “The djinn hate it that anthros call them genies, but no, you don’t have to be specific with demons. I just have very little control when it comes to you, Satapti. The fact that you are still here is a miracle in and of itself.”
I’m filing away the fact that genies—djinn—are real alongside the dragon revelation from before, because my mind is well and truly blown.
“Great. Then get out because I want to get dressed. I don’t need the audience, thank you very much. Go on…shoo.” I practically push him out of the closet, closing the door behind him and falling back against it.
“I’ll be waiting right here for you.” His voice is muffled slightly through the wood, but I can still hear that damn smirk.
Choosing to ignore him for a few more moments of peace before the madness, I eye my options.
There are a variety of casual dresses with long, floaty skirts in a multitude of fabrics; chiffon, lace, silk, cotton, even some woolen ones.
I can’t decide whether I like the plain or the patterned ones best. They each have something about them that I love.
Hack said Alaska, though, and while I may be used to rain and snow in New York, I’ve heard it’s a whole other beast in the Last Frontier.
Opting for a dark pair of jeans, I slide them up and over the new panties I found—with shopping tags, luckily, or I may have had to go commando, which is not fun in denim. I tried it once and had a sore vagina for a few hours afterward.
Several new bras are in another drawer, all laid out neatly so I can see them clearly, and it’s like my own personal store.
Mother nature blessed me in the breast department so I bypass the sexy lace numbers and choose a plain black one with plenty of support, then I slide on a clean tank top for layers before grabbing a thick sweater.
The shoe collection in this closet is almost as insane as my life right now, but I don’t have time to admire them all. Plus, as sad as the reality is, they’re not mine. The delusional demon will figure his shit out soon enough and realize he has it all wrong with me.
Warm ankle boots with a low heel and a calf-length coat with faux-fur lining in hand, I exit the closet and take in the view.
Zelos is sitting in the armchair, one ankle resting on his knee, and his head tilted back with his eyes closed.
My vagina is currently writing checks that I don’t want to cash, but I continue to stare for definitely too long.
“Like what you see?”
And he’s ruined it.
“No.” Yes. “Are you ready to go?” My stomach chooses now to roll over itself and of course he hears it.
“As soon as you’ve eaten. Come on.” He’s up and out of the chair quicker than I can blink, and beside me just as quickly, taking my hand in his and leading me from the room.
I don’t know why I let him practically drag me around, but it’s easier than arguing because I am hungry.
A tray of pastries sits all lonely on the kitchen island.
It looks so out of place compared to everything else in here.
The kitchen is as beautiful as the rest of the house, a similar marble counter to the one in the bathroom, but this one is all black with gold veins running through it.
Black and chrome accessories adorn the counters and everything is neatly organized as if it’s all brand new.