11. Still Rolling My Eyes
Chapter eleven
Still Rolling My Eyes
Ione
"I've been reading your book and starving while you've been snoring."
Mind you, my eyes haven't even fully opened. I am just now, regaining consciousness.
"What?"
"It is nearly noon." He sighs. "I am hungry, and I have been learning about how human males peacock to females they desire."
"Athanasius," I cannot deal with this. Why does he have to start mornings like this? "I am just now waking up."
"I know, I told you I was listening to you snore." He grunts, getting out of bed. "Feed me."
Pulling the covers over my head, I settle back into my pillow and I'm about to try to fall back asleep when he snatches the blanket. "Now, woman."
"You better back the fuck up!" Sitting up in bed, I snarl at him. "I am tired!"
He shrugs. "I want more steak."
Just as I'm about to tell him how he can go fuck himself, my cell phone rings. A video chat from my sister. Reaching for the nightstand, Athanasius grabs my phone and answers it.
"I've watched how you work this mechanism, green means yes." He chuckles.
"Who the hell are you?" Orlaya asks on the other line. "Where is Ione?"
"My rabbit," He smiles at her. "You must be her sister, hello Orlaya."
"Hello, who are you?"
"Ione's master." He replies.
I can't get out of bed fast enough, falling onto the floor, he watches as I practically crawl up his legs to reach the phone. "Give me that."
"Say please, rabbit," He smiles his stupid fanged grin. "Remember your manners."
Marco is cracking up in the background. "She on that BDSM, that Dom/Sub shit."
"Listen, whoever the hell you are—"
"You may call me Athanasius." He's holding the phone away from me. "You wish to speak to Ione, she has just awakened, she was snoring."
"Eww!" Marco screams. "Let them adults do their adult shit, we don't need to be hearing all this."
Kicking Athanasius in the shin, he growls and drops the phone. "Don't hit!"
"Orlaya!" Grabbing the phone, my face is jammed into the camera. "Do not listen to him, he's foreign and his English isn't great."
"Sounds good to me." Orlaya raises an eyebrow. "Athanasius? Girl, what the hell have you been doing?"
"We have not fucked." Athanasius yells from the background.
"Shut up!" Rushing into the bathroom, I close the door behind me. "How are you? How's the baby?"
"No, no, no." Marco appears in the camera. "Where did you meet him? He is funny."
"In the neighborhood," I answer quickly. "How's the baby."
Orlaya takes a deep breath. "Ione Phaedra Davis, I am going to be calm, and you better answer me like your life depends on it."
"It does." Marcos echoes.
"Your mind better be straight," She closes her eyes. "You better get some get right, cause if I have to get on a plane and come tighten your ass up, Lord as my witness."
Orlaya raised me. Our mother died when I was four, and our father passed when I was fourteen and Orlaya was twenty-one.
She's the only mother I have ever known.
She's been walking a fine line between older sister and mother, sometimes the lines get blurred.
This is one of them. I know she's asking because first, a man has never answered my phone, and second, because I haven't been with anyone in two years.
She's concerned about me, living 2 states away, she's 7 months pregnant with her first and here I am in a new neighborhood, in a new house.
"I am fine. Nothing weird is going on. I met someone and he's really nice, kind of intense sometimes, but he's foreign.
" That's the best answer I can come up with.
"That's why he's like that. I've been trying to educate him.
" Which isn't a lie. "Trust me, my neighbors think how he talks is odd too. "
She narrows her eyes at me. "He better not be living with you."
"He doesn't." I lie. "He was here cause his grandmother lives near me." I hate lying to her. "I promise."
"So, what happened last night?" She's trying to read my face. "Cause he's there now…so I assume he spent the night."
"We didn't have sex." Not a lie. "We slept together. Literally."
"That's how it starts." Marco chuckles. Marco and Orlaya have been together since she was eighteen. He's like an older brother to me. "Just cuddle with me 'Laya. Look at her now. A house, a car, picket fence, married, baby on the way, spoiled as hell."
She scoffs. "Still won't get me that Van Cleef bracelet."
"I heard that," Marco is crunching on chips. "You're getting a push present, I asked for the baby, I know what to do."
Shaking her head, Orlaya moves away and stares into the phone. "Where is this Athanasius?"
"I'm in the bathroom, he can wait." I reply, propping it on the counter so I can wash my face and brush my teeth. "Why?"
"Nothing." She rubs her forehead. "The baby is fine. Big as hell, two months to go and I don't know if I can go natural, I'm getting antsy."
"Girl, ain't nothing wrong with drugs." I chuckle. "If my niece has a big head like her daddy, I can understand why."
Orlaya begins to laugh. "I'm not playing with you, you already got my pressure up."
"I'm sorry."
"Mhm," She replies. "When you go back to work?"
"Monday," I sigh. "Not into the office though."
"That's a good thing," She smirks. "You're still gonna come up here as soon as the baby is born, right?"
"Yes," Although, now my mind flashes to what I'm going to do with Athanasius. Will he even be around? "As soon as Marco calls me, I will be on a plane. I swear it."
"Good." She yawns. "I need my nap, go on back to your man."
"He is not my man." I shake my head. "It's…up in the air."
"Like your legs," Orlaya laughs. "Use protection, please?"
Would I even need it with him? Can a Primordial of death procreate? "Trust me, I will."
"Bye, love you."
"Love you too."
Hanging up the phone, I rub my forehead and look at myself in the mirror.
The gleam of the ring catches my eye, and I look down at my hand and the silver stoic face staring back at me.
I am tied to Athanasius with this. I am his avatar, is what he calls me, tying him to this realm.
He's wanting his revenge after he has a little party with his siblings.
What happens after that? Athy is dramatic sure, but his talk of reverting the world to how he knew it? How far does that go?
"Took you long enough." Athanasius grunts as I exit the bathroom. "What more did you need to do in there? You still have sleeping clothes on!"
"And I will keep them on for as long as I feel like it, your Grace." Faking a curtsy, I roll my eyes and walk past him. "We need to talk."
"You talk a lot." He sighs. "Move your lips woman, and I will give my attention to what is most pressing."
"Asshole." As we enter the kitchen, he sits at the island, and I pose my question. "Tell me more about this relationship between us. This ring, explain to me what this means, the history, all of it."
He scrunches his nose. "Are you hard of hearing? Or forgetful? Which is it so I know how to proceed."
"You're ineffective at explanations." I'll make us sandwiches and soup.
"Haha," Athanasius blinks both sets of eyes.
He's getting better at switching between his forms. He points at me, indicating with his index finger for me to come to him. "You think it’s just a ring, don’t you?
" He takes my hand, and turns the ring on my finger. The metal catches the dim light like it's proud of the part it played. “A charming little trinket. A gift from your god. But no, rabbit. It’s not a token of favor. Not anymore at least, it’s a shackle.”
He pauses, letting the word hang there. "You always do this thing with your mouth—tighten it just a little—when you’re trying not to react. It's adorable."
"Keep talking." I pull my hand from his, grabbing the bread instead.
“This ring was forged by mages, those arrogant little thieves of magic, to tether me. Not to this body—this is just the human sized version of my true form—but to this realm. It’s a punishment.
Before it, I walked between worlds like a man through doorways.
No boundaries. No rules. No… limitations.
” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “Can you even imagine that kind of freedom, little priestess?”
He doesn't wait for my answer. "I already know it. You barely believe in your own power, let alone mine. That’s part of why I like you." He winks. "My avatars weren’t chosen by me—not originally. Families claimed my name for power. Made pacts. Asked for favor. I’d elevate one here or there if I liked them. If they amused me. But I was never bound to them.”
I stop long enough to watch as his face takes on a look of irritation and maybe…
I could be wrong because who are we talking about here, pain.
“Then came the betrayal. I think it was the fifteenth century. Give or take. More like take, honestly. Time’s a blur when you’re betrayed by those who should revere you.
” He sneers a little, but maybe it's more from memory than malice.
“They gave the trinkets—this ring, my twin’s bracelet—to the mages.
And the mages used them to bind us. Trapped us here, cut off from the realms, left to fester in these little god-shaped prisons.
" He indicates his body with a hand flourish.
"Abandoned by our own avatars.” He looks up at me, solid black eyes on mine.
“So when you took the ring… you chose me. Whether you understood it or not, that choice sealed the bond. You’re mine now, Ione.
Bound. You serve me, or I make you suffer.
" Athy holds up all of his index fingers.
"There is a caveat for you. Sickness. Weakness.
Death, none of those can touch you as long as you're mine.” He smiles.
“You can only break it by abandoning me. Such is the way of things now.”
I bristle, just a little, and he smiles. "You represent a challenge. You hate how pompous I can be, but here you are. Unmoving. I adore that. That little spark."
"And killing the mage? What's that about?" Sandwiches finished, I take the soup off the stove, pouring it into two bowls for us. "I have 0 fighting skills. I'm too cute for all that."
“You’ll have your chance to unbind me." He answers, watching as I set the food in front of him. "We’re going to kill the last mage, you and I. When he dies, the spell dies with him. And I’ll be free again.
As I once was.” His grin turns wolfish as I sit down next to him.
“And perhaps, if you ask nicely… I’ll still choose to keep you. ”