I tried to pull back, but I wasn’t supported in his arms anymore; I was lying in a bed, and he was above me, pushing me down. I opened my eyes and the beach was gone. The man above me was dark instead of pale, his eyes glowing red instead of flashing with lightning, and I suddenly knew where I was, where I’d been, and who I’d been with. I pulled away from Huitzilopochtli with a strength I didn’t know I had, the name I’d been trying to recall falling from my lips.
“Thor.”
Huitzilopochtli hissed and pushed away from me. “You kiss me like that and then dare to speak another god’s name? Do not think to play with me, witch!”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. I was so confused that I couldn’t even form an answer. He left the bed with a growl and went into the bathroom. I heard water running and sighed, my head spinning a little in relief. Maybe now I could think.
Thor was in my dream. What had he said? It had felt important; something about the Aether. I could only leave in the same place I'd come in. That was the stone room so I had to make my way back to the stone room… without Huitzilopochtli noticing.
I got up and padded over to the door which led out to the hallway.
The rush of water from the bathroom was reassuring, but I took a quick look over my shoulder anyway before trying the handle.
When I pushed against it, I felt the power immediately pushing back. It was still warded. Damn.
Seconds after I let go, a wet, iron grip circled my wrist and spun me around. Huitzilopochtli glowered and dripped all over the carpet while he stood there in breathtaking nudity. To say he had a fine form would not only be an understatement but a crime. He shimmered in the adoring moonlight like a merman given legs. The sheen of water emphasized every hard curve, every dimple and flat plane. There wasn’t a single hair to mar the perfection of his chest, and he had a sexy dip on each side of his hips where the bones protruded. Water collected in the small indentations; clinging to him desperately. I was weak and allowed my gaze to wander lower.
What a stupid mistake. I almost groaned aloud. He was perfect and growing more so as I watched. I tore my eyes away with supreme effort and looked back at his face.
His initial anger had melted under my hot stare. He looked at me with hard, intense eyes that glittered like rubies in the soft light and my heart thudded in my throat. His hand loosened slightly to stroke my skin before pulling me forward. I hit his chest; the water on his skin soaking into my clothes and sending a shiver through me.
“What's your game, little witch?” His palm cupped my face as he stared at me intently. “You kiss me and then reject me, you try to escape and then look at me with open lust. These are dangerous tactics, and I've ceased being amused by them. Do you want the Viking or me?”
“I don’t know what I want.” I pushed as far away from him as I could. “But it's not you.”
A drop of water fell slowly down the side of his face; rippling over his clenched jaw as his eyes narrowed. My own eyes widened as I realized my mistake. I should have played along. He might have lowered his guard if I'd pretended to want him. Instead, he backhanded me; dropping me to the thick carpet in a second. I
ran my tongue along the cut inside my mouth; swallowing blood as I twisted to look up at him.
“You will,” he vowed viciously; towering over me like an angel of vengeance. “You’ll learn to trust me. You’ll learn to love me.”
“Trust my jailer? Love a monster?” I sat up and rubbed my jaw. “Yeah, you're doing a phenomenal job of convincing me.
You're a fucking lunatic.”
Huitzilopochtli’s eyes hardened a little, but he didn’t say anything. He just bent down and lifted me into his arms as if I were a child. I felt my muscles tighten angrily, but I tamped down the feeling. The last thing I needed to do was push him when he was barely containing his rage. He walked over to the bed and laid me back down. I laid perfectly still as he crawled in, still damp, and pulled the covers over us before curling his body around mine. As if we were a normal, happy couple. Yep, he was totally insane. I felt the heavy weight of his leg fall over mine and his breath tickle along my neck. The sound of his even breathing surrounded me as I clenched my teeth and tried to hold back my tears.
Welcome to my world, where the monsters don’t hide under your bed, they sleep in it beside you.
When I woke in the morning, it was to the sound of arguing.
“She deserves to die!” a woman was screaming.
It was not a pleasant way to start the day, especially since I was pretty sure the “she” was me.
“She’s mine,” the male voice was one I recognized, and I tried desperately to subdue the fear it sent spiraling through me.
If I wanted to get out of there, I needed to put on my big girl panties and figure it out without letting my fear get the best of me.
“She’s bewitched my husband.”
Uh-oh; one guess who that was. It was turning out to be a bad day, and I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet.
“He’s not your husband anymore, Sif,” Huitzilopochtli put no emotion into the words, merely stated a fact.
Sif still didn’t take kindly to it, and she wasn’t shy about letting him know. She screamed; a sound of pure rage.
“Don’t tell me what is or is not between Thor and me!”
“You fought, divorced, and are now on opposing sides of a god war and so you’re still fighting,” he had a hell of a point there.
“That’s not what I’d call a happy marriage.”
“It’s not for you to say,” Sif sniffed haughtily.
“It’s exactly for me to say.” I could feel his power rising; biting along my skin. I snuggled under the covers deeper; to escape it or enjoy it, I wasn’t entirely sure. “You’re my guest here so you’ll have the courtesy of a warning before I bleed you. Leave her be. Don’t even contemplate hurting her and then running because even beyond these walls, I’m stronger than you. Don’t fight me over Vervain. Don't fight me over anything. You won’t win.”
“You dare to threaten me?” She tried for scorn, but even I could hear the terror in her voice.
Huitzilopochtli laughed and the breath caught in my throat.
It was a laugh of cruel confidence. That laugh said I can kill you anytime, anyplace, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I knew it was true. She was no match for him, and neither was I. The thought was a wrench thrown right in the middle of my big girl panties. I barely kept from sucking my thumb and crying for my mommy.
“I don’t threaten,” his voice still held traces of laughter, “I merely state facts, but perhaps my words aren't simple enough for you to understand. I’ll make this very clear so there can be no confusion between us. If you harm Vervain, if you upset her, if you abuse her in any way, or try to turn her against me, I will torture you until you beg for death. Then I will let her have you.”
A small choking sound was the only response from Sif. I responded by squeezing my eyes shut and wishing desperately that I could believe in Gods the way others did. Then at least I could be praying instead of cowering under the covers like a child. Okay, so I’d probably be praying and cowering.
“Do you understand me, Sif?” I heard the rustle of hands crushing fabric. “You touch what's mine and not only is our alliance over but so is your immortality. Leave her be or just leave; those are the only choices you have that will keep you breathing.”
The sounds of a scuffle sent my heart racing, my whole
body tensing for a fight, but the slam of the door shocked me out of my instincts. I had no idea if Huitzilopochtli had left with Sif, but I didn’t think I’d be that lucky. So, when the covers lifted and the bed dipped beside me, I wasn’t too surprised. I was surprised at the warmth of his body as it slid along mine and by how good it felt when his arm pulled me against him gently. The only thing louder than the steady thumping of his heart was the frenzied pounding of my own.
“I know you’re awake, little witch,” he breathed into my ear. “Your heart beats like a trapped bird’s.” His hand slid between my breasts to lay flat against my sternum. “I don’t want your fear.”
The fingers against my flesh started to swirl in lazy circles as the soft heat of his lips trailed down my bruised cheek.
“Would you really torture her for merely upsetting me?” I looked up at him finally; needing to hear him say it, to verify how much of a monster he was.
“Yes,” he said it softly, like a lover's vow, and my whole body went cold as I fought to keep my face blank. “You don’t approve.” He pulled back and looked down at me; tilting his head to the side.
“You sound surprised.” I tried to pull away as well, but he pressed me down.
“I’ve just sworn to do great damage to an ally of mine, all for your safety, and you not only fear me for it, but you think less of me.” He sounded as if he couldn’t decide whether to be shocked, angry, or impressed.
“I’m sorry; was that your idea of chivalry?” My heartbeat was finally starting to slow down to normal. “Was my line supposed to be; 'My hero' or something like that? I just hate it when I don’t know my lines.”
I saw a trace of anger fill his eyes. My breath turned sharp and quick, but he quenched the anger as quickly as it came.
“Would you rather I have let her in? Do you even know what she would’ve done?” He pushed off me and leaned back.
“No.” I sat up and immediately felt a little better. It’s hard to act tough when you’re lying beneath someone.
“She was calling for your death, Vervain.” He brushed back a stray lock of my hair and frowned when I pulled further away.
“She was already armed with her sword and had every intention of cutting off your head while you slept.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. As far as ways to die, I could think of more gruesome ones, but the idea of someone killing me while I was unaware and unable to defend myself was horrible. The fact that it was my preferred method of killing Gods didn't escape my irony meter either, but what was even more terrible was the gratitude I immediately felt toward Huitzilopochtli.
Evil or not, it would be better to keep myself in his good graces so I decided to go with the change of heart.
“You’re right.” I let my gaze soften on him and my voice drop down to a purr. “I’m sorry; I misjudged the situation.”
“You admit that you're wrong?” His expression was immediately wary.
“I’m often wrong” I smiled shyly, or at least what I hoped was a shyly. It probably looked more like a grimace. “I find it easier just to apologize as soon as I realize it. I value integrity more than pride.”
“You’re a surprising woman, little witch.” He lowered his face to mine and my heart went right back to banging on my ribs.
I didn’t have time to figure out whether it was from excitement or fear before he kissed me.
Huitzilopochtli touched me with his lips alone; softly, carefully. It wasn’t the type of kiss I'd been expecting, and he got
further with me for catching me so off guard. I slid back against the pillows and lifted my hands to the sides of his face to stroke back the hair that fell around us. He groaned and deepened the kiss. I met him with my own ardor; slipping my tongue further into his mouth. But the instant I did, I felt a sting as one of his fangs nicked me, and I tasted my own blood.
Huitzilopochtli went wild as if a switch had been flipped; pulling me under his body and grinding his hips against me. I gasped, but it was lost in the violence. He was sucking on my tongue; pulling it into his mouth and lapping at it. Fear filled me, unmistakable this time, and I wracked my brain for a way to fight him. The power! The energy I’d borrowed; did I still have it? I reached down inside myself and felt it coiled there, waiting. I tried to channel Thor, to bring the lightning, but his power wasn’t there.
I must have only borrowed enough for one use apiece. I panicked as Huitzilopochtli’s hands roamed over me as if they couldn’t decide where they wanted to be first. They tore at my top, and I finally freed my lips enough to cry out.
“Get off me, you son of a bitch!”
I thought Huitzilopochtli hadn’t heard me, but then he went still and just lay above me; filled with coiled tension. I could feel the magic surging through his body; tingling and teasing my skin.
His chest expanded against mine as he took a deep breath and then he released it, shuddering.
“Now, it’s I who must ask for your forgiveness.” He raised his head to look at me, and I stared at the crimson of his eyes as they swirled frantically. “The blood, when combined with lust, drives me to madness if I'm not prepared for it. Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I looked away; unsure what to say or do. “I’m fine.”
“Do you forgive me, Vervain?” The pleading in his voice yanked my eyes back to him. His eyes were normal again, as normal as they could get.
“I guess it’s only fair.” I tried to concentrate on what Thor had said, but it was so hard not to be drawn in by the earnest expression Huitzilopochtli wore.
Was this the same man who'd struck me last night? Then I realized that his behavior was perfectly in line with that of an abuser. If you asked a battered woman why she stayed with her man, she'd probably tell you something along the lines of; “He's actually a very good man, he just gets angry sometimes . ” Abusers know how to keep their victims in line. Insert moments of kindness in between the torture, and you'll create a victim who will defend you. Child abusers use the same technique.
Huitzilopochtli laughed and it brought me out of my morbid musings. It was the velvet laugh I both enjoyed and hated.
In one graceful movement, he rolled off me and helped me from the bed. He didn’t let go until we were near the hidden door to the bathroom.
“There’s a change of clothes for you inside the bathroom.
When you’re done, come out to the garden.” Huitzilopochtli motioned to the open doors.
I nodded numbly and entered the bathroom. After the weird wake-up call I’d just had, I welcomed the sanctuary and looked around carefully. I'd nearly been struck dumb by the bathroom the night before so I hadn't been truly able to enjoy it. Yes, dumbstruck by a bathroom, it was that fantastic. The dress he’d left me was hung on a golden hanger across the room from me, and it was stunning, but it paled next to the beauty of its surroundings.
It was as if he’d brought the jungle inside. The bedroom’s sumptuous red carpet ended abruptly at the doorway in a green carpet of grass. Not green like grass, I mean there was real grass covering the floor. Along my right was a wall of windows with a door in the center; open to the encroaching jungle. To my left was a slab of stone with a basin carved out of it. A handle placed nearby controlled the release of a miniature waterfall which would
pour into the sink from beneath a long mirror. The mirror was set into a rock wall whose every nook and cranny sprouted ferns and bright, monstrous orchids with sword-shaped leaves curling over the slab counter. Antique crystal jars of toiletries hid among the leaves; adding a little sparkle.
There were trees growing inside the bathroom as well; one by the bedroom door and one at the end of the room near the tub.
The dress hung on the latter. The bathtub was the most unusual feature of all. Made of the same stone as the counter, it was sunk into the floor to resemble a natural pool. I had bathed in it the night before and it took me forever to find the hidden levers for the water. At the very top of another plant-filled rock wall behind the tub, a platform jutted out. With the turn of one of those hidden levers, water flowed over this and into the middle of the pool; allowing for a choice of shower or bath.
The grass grew right up to the pool and plants grew out of the floor randomly. Near the tub, there were boulders of differing heights with flat tops for toiletries or sitting. One of the boulders had a lid which lifted to reveal a toilet. Very ingenious, but also very frustrating if you happened to be a person unaccustomed to searching for toilets inside rocks. I had actually wondered for a few confused moments if maybe Gods didn’t share our bodily functions.
The room was amazing, and so was the dress, but it seemed so out of place in it. I walked over and touched the soft material. It was red of course—the man just didn’t like change—made of yards of velvet and lace, but not just any velvet and lace. Silk velvet so soft I wondered if they made blankets out of the stuff so I could wrap myself in heaven while I slept, and Venetian lace; the real stuff some old Italian lady made by hand with dozens of little spindles. The sleeves were little puffs that ended in a froth of the lace and the bodice was a deep square saved from being immodest by the lace that trimmed it. It curved in at the waist and then out at the hips, and was gathered at different points to show layers of
even more lace beneath. It was a dress that belonged in another century. Or in a museum. Not on me.
I stripped; leaving my underwear on the counter with my dagger. Yes, I slept with it again, even after the bruising it had given me. I washed my face and then frowned at myself in the mirror. I was being seduced by a dress and a handsome face. I glared at the dress over my shoulder; wishing for a pair of ruby slippers to match. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. I was being primped, polished, and pampered. It was vastly preferable to some cold dungeon and the seduction of it all was almost too tempting, but when it came down to it, the wizard was a bipolar, womanizing Aztec with a thirst for blood, and I, like Dorothy, desperately wanted out of Oz.
I saw to the rest of my morning needs and then slipped the dress—I wasn’t sure if it was even considered a dress, maybe the correct word would be gown or tent—over my head. It was unbelievable, and I felt as if I belonged in some Gothic novel, but I soon discovered the reason women used to have maids. I needed help with the laces. I squirmed and stretched, but I just couldn’t reach. Oh, well, so much for making a stunning entrance.
I stuck my head out of the sliding glass doors. “Hey, Hummingbird Man.”
“I presume you’re calling for me.” Huitzilopochtli came through the lush growth holding a magnificent rose.
“I require some assistance.” I turned and showed him my back while I held the bodice to my chest with both hands.
He laughed softly, and I felt his breath tickle my shoulders.
“My pleasure, little witch,” he spoke against my skin a second before brushing his lips along my shoulder. I shivered and jerked a little. Then he handed me the flower and went to work on the laces. “There, now turn around and let me see you.”
I did as he asked; feeling awkward and wishing I knew why. He stepped back and his eyes feasted on me. There was no other word for it; he looked at me so slowly from head to toe, eyes widening slightly and finishing with a flick of his tongue across his lips. I felt completely consumed by the time it was over.
Huitzilopochtli took the rose from me, broke most of its stem off, and tucked it behind my left ear. The symbolism wasn’t lost on me. Back home in Hawaii, a woman wore a flower behind her left ear only if she were in a serious relationship. If you were single, the flower went on the right. I reached up to correct it, but his hand stopped me.
“I may not have taken your body.” Huitzilopochtli pulled a long curl of my hair forward and stroked it tenderly as if he were stroking something much more intimate. “But you’re mine; make no mistake about that, Vervain.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” I glared at him and suppressed the urge to crush the innocent flower in my fist.
He smiled indulgently, as if I were a misbehaving child, and it set my teeth on edge, but I allowed him to lead me into the jungle. There was actually a little path through the trees, and we followed it to a clearing where a stone table was laid with linen and bone china. He seated me in a carved mahogany chair with a red velvet cushion. I peered under the tablecloth at the stone it lay on. Was I about to eat breakfast on an altar? I let the cloth drop. I’d rather not consider the possibility. I focused instead on watching him lift the domed silver lid off my plate.
“Eggs Benedict?” I stared at the perfect hollandaise sauce and the crisp homefries. “How did you know this was my favorite?”
“I shared your mind when I tasted your blood.” He grinned unabashedly. “You were hungry and thinking of breakfast.”
I looked at him sharply. Breakfast hadn't been in the
forefront of my thoughts. Had he heard me turn to the borrowed magic? Did he know what I could do? More importantly, could I still use one of the stolen powers to escape?
“Coffee?” He poured the steaming liquid into a delicate teacup in front of me.
I added sugar and cream, stirred, and then sipped. It was pure Kona. What the hell? Did he just happen to have all of my favorites on hand?
“Thank you.” Mama didn’t raise me to be rude. “Huitzil . . .
oh, I can’t keep calling you that. I know it’s your name, but we’re going to have to go with a nickname from here on out, and I can’t stomach Hummingbird.”
“You want to give me a pet name?” He beamed in delight.
“Not a pet name.” I glared at him. “A nickname; a shorter word for you. What was your name in English again?”
“Blue Humming—”
“Blue,” I interrupted. “I like it. Short and to the point. Blue it is.”
“You want to name me after a color?” He wasn’t so pleased by that.
“It’s just a shortened version of your name.” I was very pleased with him being displeased. Then a thought occurred to me, and I chuckled. “It’ll be an accurate description of certain parts of your anatomy if you keep pursuing me.”
Huitzilopochtli frowned a good five minutes until comprehension flared to life. “You’re referring to a state of male frustration, I believe?” I giggled in delight and sipped my coffee as he continued. “Hmm, I must admit it’s never presented itself as a problem to me before. I guess I’ll have to pleasure myself if you
drive me to such a state, and I’ll make you watch as your penance.”
I choked and nearly spewed coffee everywhere. “You’ll what?”
“If you’re so unaffected by me, then whatever I choose to do to relieve myself will not matter to you, correct?” His eyes sparkled over the rim of his teacup as he took a sip.
“You’re disgusting.” I felt a shiver run through me as I pictured him stroking himself next to me in bed. Oh, crap; I wouldn’t last a week. I had to get out of there immediately.
“We’ll see how disgusting you think it is when you lay beside me.” He cut into his meal. “Maybe I’ll try it out tonight if you refuse me again. I knew this would be fun, but I didn't anticipate how deliciously naughty it would be. I do so love the chase.”
What a typical man and in typical male fashion, he'd probably stop wanting me as soon as I gave in. Except, in this case, his waning interest wouldn't mean a break-up, it would mean my death. I swallowed hard and fought back my rising panic.
“Do you still have house guests?”
He looked up and raised both brows at my obvious subject change. “I do; we’ll dine with them tonight. I wanted to spend the day alone with you.”
“Aren’t they here for nasty god business?” The eggs were so delicious that I was having mouth orgasms, but it was getting harder and harder for me to enjoy them. “Won’t they be mad if you blow them off?”
“Yes, and yes.” He laughed as if their irritation only added to his joy. “Have you not learned yet, Vervain? I’m the master here; none of them can match my power. They’ll wait if I tell them
“But their goals are your goals, right? I mean; wouldn’t you rather be working on new ways to destroy my race than be sitting here with me?” It was a bitter comment, but I’d had enough with the seduction routine. I wanted the anger back.
“My intentions have never been to destroy your race, little witch,” he went in the complete opposite direction of what I expected. “Your race has multiplied to the point of becoming a threat to the ecosystem. Our nasty business, as you call it, is necessary for your survival as well as ours.”
“Are you trying to say you’re doing the human race a favor?” I was aghast and horrified because some of his reasoning had a twisted kind of logic.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, and if you weren’t such a child of your generation, you’d see it’s truly what’s best for the world. If humans aren’t controlled, they’ll overpopulate the planet and bring ruin upon themselves.”
“A pretty speech.” I rubbed at my temple; it had started to ache. “But it still spells murder.”
“Not murder.” His face looked so serene. “Sacrifice.
Sacrifice not just to the Gods, but to themselves and the planet.
Your medical advances have made you weak. People who would’ve died had nature had its way, are now allowed to live.
This not only causes overpopulation, but it passes down those weak genes, making the next generation weaker than the previous.
On top of that, the one medical advance which should help often goes unused. Birth control. People keep having child after child.
Even those who are so poverty stricken that they can't feed the children they birth. Instead of managing your population, you put pictures of those starving children on your televisions and ask other people to feed them. I’ve watched your people for centuries, and I speak only the truth as harsh as it may sound to your ears.
The weak need to be culled; the population controlled.”
“Who do you think they send to war?” I barely contained my anger. “They don’t send the weak into battle; they send the strong. So, your little theory doesn’t work. You’re only weakening us further. You’re stealing our brave men and women, and you’re leaving only widows and broken families. Children who will never know their parents, parents who will never see their children again, all because you need your fix.”
“Yes.” He nodded gravely. “They send their soldiers, but does war not make them stronger? Does it not make them more attractive to the opposite sex? Does it not, in its own way, serve to weed out while it replenishes the population? Your military doesn’t pick the strongest, they take what they can get, but battle sorts out the wheat from the chaff. The most capable survive as nature intended.”
“Nature doesn't care whether we fight or not,” I growled,
“only the Gods do.”
“Does it not?” He lifted an aristocratic brow. “Have you ever heard of Cordyceps?”
“What?” I frowned at the odd change of topic. “No. What the hell is a Cordycep?”
“It's a fungus.” He calmly took a sip of coffee. “When there is an overpopulation of a type of insect or arthropod, Cordyceps takes over. They infect, kill the host by sprouting out of the body, and then release their spores into the air to contaminate others until the species is weeded down.”
“This fungus”—I gaped at him—“you're telling me it knows when there's too much of something?”
“Nature may not have a mind as you would define one, but she is aware of what is happening with her children. The planet is aware. Balance must be kept.”