Chapter 19 Culture Shock
CULTURE SHOCK
Kat
Peeking out the windows of the carriage didn’t even occur to Kat as she sat wrapped up in her cloak across from Azrion. All she cared about was using her hidden hand to trace the lines the demon left on her skin.
She could still see the depiction through her touch, and it was beautiful.
Her fingertips rounded over the wings and their patterns, the petals and the leaves, and it was almost like the gentle pressure of his brush and the light squeeze of his hand except no, it wasn’t at all like having someone else touch her.
That was so entirely new, a strange palm pressed to her skin, foreign fingers wrapped around her flesh, and all the attention being paid to her thigh.
Damn it, whose idea was that?
Kat looked up the moment the carriage stopped. Azrion had been gazing out the window, aware enough for both of them as he drummed fingers on his chin. Never had she wanted more to know what he was thinking, and never had she been more incapable of asking.
“Ah, here we are.” He snapped out of the stoic look and untied his robe.
Kat mimicked him dutifully, pushing off her cloak and rolling bare shoulders.
The door opened onto darkness, but of course it did—Azrion had said they were going to “the caves.” Not terribly descriptive, which was odd for him, but then Kat didn’t necessarily want to know more.
She would only over-prepare, and maybe a surprise would be…
nice? The surprise of his attentive touch certainly had been.
Azrion stepped out and offered her a hand.
Kat had no extra skirts to trip over this time—barely any dress to trip over at all—so she folded an arm across her chest. Before stepping down from the carriage, she gazed out at the rocky outcropping they’d been brought to.
Massive trees grew all around it, climbing into the darkened sky where shadow melded seamlessly into night.
She gave her silver cuff a quick look and hoped it wouldn’t stop her from whatever it was they were about to do.
She didn’t, however, think that was interesting even though it certainly was—normally Kat would revel in having an out, an excuse not to have a new and terrifying experience, and yet here she was, concerned she might miss out on something with Azrion.
There were a few other demons arriving, each dressed in traditional Lykalian garb so there was plenty of skin on display, but their colors were muted in the darkness.
None of them were concerned with a human’s presence, every eye set on the mouth of the cave, wholly black until a light sprang to life in someone’s hands.
Like fire made spherical, the glow bobbed in an orange demon’s hand, and then there was a second blue one in the hands of his companion.
Together they used their conjured lights as a guide into the darkness.
Kat’s brief respite at not being the only near-naked body around was shattered when she realized not a single demon entered the cave without an enchanted torch. She twisted her magicless fingers around one another and bit down on her lip.
Beside her, Azrion easily conjured a ball of purple light with an over-the-top flourish and a knowing smirk. She wanted to scowl, but the magic vibrated beside her skin all too pleasantly. He took her by the wrist and rolled the light from his palm into hers.
Kat could only watch in shocked awe as the glow remained hovering over her fingers.
There was no weight to it, and it didn’t quite touch her skin, yet it had a distinct presence and pressure.
No, her mind had to be playing tricks—it wasn’t there, and if it was, there was no way she could be holding it.
The orb’s glow dimmed.
“Ah, no, believe,” Azrion said, cradling her hand in both of his. Tingly warmth radiated from his touch. “This is how our lanterns work, but the magic is wild. The jars we use contain it, marked with runes to feed it and keep it. But this will sneak away if you don’t believe it’s yours.”
“But it’s not mine.”
The orb flickered with a sort of sadness.
“Yes, it is.”
Kat wasn’t so sure about that, and apparently neither was the magic. It pulsed with disbelief.
“I’m giving it to you, aren’t I?”
That was at least true, but Azrion had given her lots of things: flowers, dresses, a kiss, and she had thought of all of them as borrowed. “But I can’t do sorc—magic.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Azrion mused, head tipping as he rubbed the edges of her hand with his thumbs. “But I’m offering this to you, and you can take it from me if you want it. Do you want it?”
She stared deeply into the weak lavender flame flickering inside its unseen shell. It would be nice to have something of her own, something she didn’t have to steal and wasn’t some phony gesture. “I do,” she said.
“Then believe it’s yours, Katarina.”
Mine? she thought dubiously, the weight of magic heavy in her mind, and then she briefly flicked her gaze up to meet Azrion’s. Mine.
The light flared into blinding brilliance.
“Ah ha! Maybe believe a little less?” The demon chuckled, and his touch drifted away from the back of her hand as the light dimmed to a reasonable glow.
Kat added her other hand to the conjured light’s underside as if she could give it more protection and balance, but it mostly just held itself as she walked carefully beside Azrion toward the cave.
He created his own container-less lantern and spun it on a finger, nudging Kat to watch as he tossed it from hand to hand.
“Yes, yes, I see you, and I’m very impressed,” she growled, arms already aching from holding them so still, steps stuttering when the light flickered.
The brilliance of his torch lit up an idiotic grin, and Kat couldn’t help but return it as they followed their lights into the darkness.
Kat could sense the downward slope of the cave as they went, the light—her light glimmering playfully.
The air cooled and smelled like earth after a rainstorm mixed with a minty burning herb.
Her eyes adjusted to the darker darkness, and her ears picked up a sound ahead, or maybe it was below?
It thrummed through the rocky walls and floor, a rhythmic buzzing like magic made material.
Ahead, a faint glow cast itself from beyond a corner, and when they turned, the cave opened onto a massive area as music came at them, no longer muffled.
The chamber was so immense, it was like the center of a mountain had been hollowed out.
Every lantern light that had been carried in was hovering well overhead to illuminate the space, and from the platform they stood on, she could see dozens, maybe hundreds, of demons dancing.
There was food somewhere, she could smell the roasting of meat and the savoriness of herbs, but there was no grand show of the tables, no one sitting properly to dine, just demons eating with their hands as they moved in time with the music and fed one another.
Oh. Oh!
Kat watched a demon pour wine from their cupped hand into another’s mouth, dark liquid running in rivulets down the receiver’s throat and over her breasts and—oh, okay, those were just out too, which was fine, Kat told herself as she nudged her own with her upper arms to be sure they were still covered.
Another demon was on his knees and being fed a piece of fruit—well, no, he was being teased with a piece of fruit held awfully close to another demon’s bulging groin.
That’s also fine, Kat thought, and it must have been true because she couldn’t seem to look away.
It was only Azrion’s hands sliding under hers that brought her out of the endless stare, and then the heat of his body pressed to her back blurred her vision completely. “Now we release it,” he said carefully into her ear.
“What, the magic you gave me? But I don’t want to,” she said in a sudden burst of selfishness.
Azrion made a surprised sound in her other ear, and the switch drove a tingle down her spine. “Well, I suppose you don’t have to, but what if I promise you something even better later?”
Kat liked that idea and found releasing the light all too easy.
It rose, its color mingling with the others as it bobbed against the craggy ceiling.
Greens and blues and reds and purples and, oh, it was so hypnotic and beautiful, and it made her feel…
well, she was relaxing, wasn’t she? Because only a relaxed version of Kat would sink herself back against Azrion to revel in his warmth, and that was exactly what she was doing.
And she was swaying her hips too, just like the music commanded.
“There will be plenty of time for this later,” he said, stepping around her and taking her hand. “First, we must pay our respects.”
Kat was led down a curving stone ramp and for once she wasn’t afraid to step into a throng of strangers even if they were demons, no concerns of tripping over tails or being knocked into by sharp horns filling her head.
Instead, she was enthralled with the details on their clothes, the immaculate stitching with shimmery thread and the skillful draping and maybe a body part or two as well—at least the ways in which the clothes were cut to show off any one demon’s best assets.
It was only professional curiosity that made her look, though, her eyes always flicking back to Azrion.
It wasn’t exactly like the time in the garden when he was chopping wood because there was no fear to mingle with the arousal, but it was close, the ink of his tattoos moving over the breadth of his shoulders as hypnotically as the lights above.
Kat rarely felt attraction. There just wasn’t room for the feeling when so many other concerns vied for her attention. But now it was easy to admire the lean muscles of Azrion’s arms and the broad expanse of his back as she let him lead her out of the main cavern and into a winding corridor.