A Tale of Revenge Ch. 12

His feet seemed to hang in that void as he frowned into the cosmos. The glass grew smoky until the room became more contained, the appearance and sensation of solid material beneath him comforting. He settled himself into a chair made entirely from deep green century plant whose large leaves had folded themselves and ossified in the desired shape.

His mind reached back to Anna, her sweet cries filling his ears, making him eager to access her once more. He would have her again and again until she was as consumed as he was. Her focus was now on her mission, but he knew at its end he would have her complete attention. Once this had seemed like a small price to pay, after all a few months of human life should have been a blink of his eye. But he found himself more aware of time now than he ever had been before. It was uncomfortable, although the anticipation certainly heightened the experience.

There was an edge of fear in her whenever he brought her pleasure and while the pain had augmented the sensations, this panic was a bitter addition, one he'd like to stamp out. She didn't trust him yet, despite the fact that he had not had to punish her in weeks. That lack of trust was a barrier, one he intended to stamp out tonight.

He moved through his thread of power to find his girl making herself comfortable at an inn. He watched, unseen, as she moved around the room, her boy's disguise still in place. He wondered if humans could see the grace with which she moved, one that was not influenced by his magic inside her. She was a conundrum—a royal peasant girl, a magical mundane, and an untrained warrior. But there was something else, some deeper part of her will, her intense connection to those around her, the depth of her emotions, which could not be explained as quickly. Even he, who had access to the recesses of her mind, was still intrigued. The energy she carried in her mortal form, what she called her soul, was so bright her crimes had barely offered any decline in its intensity. If anything her resolve and subsequent actions had bolstered it. But goodness is not uncomplicated and her pain added layers of tangled mess above what he saw at her core.

The inn's maids entered with a stable hand carrying a bath. They filled it deftly and left, no doubt glad to be free of Anna's cold demeanor. She amused him as she shed her tough posture, divesting herself of her clothing and sinking into the hot water like a cat in a particularly soft bit of sunlight. She was so naked in these moments, unmasked from all the barriers she put up.

Leonid's unseen form moved towards her, studying her face as it softened and she relaxed into the hot water. The harsh set of her mouth relaxed, her brows relinquished their furrow. He could enter her mind, feel the peace she was experiencing in this moment, allow it to bring him peace as well. But he had to at least try to remain apart. Instead he watched as her mind began to whir again, her forehead crinkling, the thoughts no doubt troubling. He half sighed to himself, wondering why the girl seemed intent on worrying herself to death. He had felt her pain and knew she suffered, but he could not truly empathize. While he appreciated her tenacity there were aspects of her self-flagellation he found tedious and repetitive.

He settled himself on the bed, wondering when he was going to interrupt her, but soon found himself soothed by watching her tangle her fingers through her pitch dark hair. The strands floated in the bath around her and he found the soft swaying movements endearing, so he let her stay undisturbed a while longer. Only when she dunked her head and disturbed the water did he make his presence known.

She took it well, as she'd grown used to his interruptions and he enjoyed the new experience of staying outside of her head, reading her movements and breathing rather than following the skip of emotions and thoughts. Perhaps Jakob was right. Tonight he would test them both—her ability to trust him, and his own resolve to remain apart. He focused instead on her form, the body he could picture in perfect detail yet never tired of seeing again. Rivulets of water ran over her skin in twisted tracks as she rose from her bath. The imperfections in her skin sent the drops in various paths with the force of gravity. He traced one of them with his fingers. Her body held a loveliness that only something transient could achieve. The fragility of her form, the inevitable decline made it all the more precious. And yet, what that body was capable of despite its mortal condition—that the pull of time itself would influence it, producing new shapes, different shades of ever changing loveliness—was truly beautiful in a way no eternal object could ever be.

He smiled at her, pleased at her compliance and eager for the night ahead. He moved them out to the woods, her exasperation soon melting into amenability. He enjoyed speaking to her now, waiting to hear her responses rather than watching them form at lightning speed in her mind. The rope would serve to push her again and he liked watching her fear become something much more palatable. And he needed the rope as well. He wanted her submission, and a physical display of his own control; he felt the satisfaction of binding her limbs as she obeyed without resisting him. Her body arched towards him, open and offered up for his touch.

But it was still there, he could see her uncertainty despite not being able to feel it. She did not trust him. For a moment he considered how to ferret out the topic without addressing it directly but he found himself too impatient.

"Do you trust me?"

The effect was instantaneous. Her fear faded, the fast breathing subsided and a look of perfect bewilderment played on her face.

"What?" came the reply, her voice husky and breathless.

He repeated himself, reminding her that she was unsure of him. Her resistance to this idea of "ownership" surfaced again—humans having an outsized sense of independence given their life spans.

She contemplated him for a long moment when he asked her again. He found he could still feel the human level of anticipation that rose in his chest as she took her time to think on it. He did not know what she would say and he could not follow what she was thinking. He held her eyes, watching as the emotions played over her features as she thought through it. Part of him wanted to press her, but he schooled himself to patience until finally she seemed to have reached her conclusion.

"Well?" Now he had to press her.

"Don't you know?" She was teasing him. For a moment he was torn between annoyance at his question being sidestepped by a lesser being and delighted at her spirit.

"Contrary to what you might think, I am not always listening in. I do love to be surprised."

She nodded and his heart actually jumped, the culmination of the heightened anticipation was like a jolt inside him. But if he could not see it in her mind, he must hear it from her lips. And when the words tumbled from them, he felt victorious in a way he hadn't when he'd conquered her body and tamed her thoughts by invasion.

"Say it again," he said before he could stop himself.

"I trust you," the repetition took none of the edge off and he gave into his desire to take her again, to test her trust and watch as she came apart for him without holding herself back, without the fear. The feelings of her living flesh against him, the rise and fall of her breathing, augmented by the arch in her back he had forced on her. The shapes she made with her long limbs folded and secured, her breasts offered up to him, her core open and eager for his attentions. He wanted to touch every part of her, consume every inch of skin and make it sing for him. He felt her response as his mouth closed over hers, her lips soft and warm against his. She was his, and he would crumple every obstacle between them till she knew it as well as he did.

Leonid ended the kiss so that he could watch her face as his fingers penetrated her. He watched the play of sensations in her face, as her dark eyes widened and gazed back at him. Her lips were parted in surprise and the most enticing moan came from between them. Now that he could no longer occupy her pleasure as he gave it to her, he wanted to enter her, to take his own pleasure with her body so they might find satisfaction together. He continued, excited at the prospect of it. She was so open now, her eyes fixed on his, her acceptance and submission to his bonds and his touch. He reveled in it. He brought her to her peak, watching as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and her lips trembled with some unfocused emotion. How he wanted to chase it back into her head, to feel it all as she did.

His will faltered slightly as she cried out in release, knowing how all-consuming her pleasure was when achieved. Just for a moment, he thought. But before he could give in, a figure appeared just beyond Anna and Leonid suddenly felt the grip of fear.

"Imonesh," he said her name, feeling the bitter syllables on his tongue. He withdrew his touch from Anna and he felt her try to turn to look at the goddess standing behind her but he could not allow that. He had to get her out of here, before Imonesh saw her face, before the goddess figured out that this was anything beyond a bored god enjoying a night time romp with a mortal. Leonid held fast to his thread of power, pulling Anna into him and keeping her head still. He should send her off now, but too soon and the goddess might suspect. There it was again, that annoying twinge of panic he recognized from Anna's mind, yet it came from him alone this time. "To what do I owe this interruption?"

He glared at her as she stepped forward, a sly smile on her dark lips. She was brilliant in red silk, her tight dark curls falling easily about her coppery shoulders in perfect spirals. She looked overly amused to have caught him in such a compromised position and it came through in her tone when she spoke. "Don't be such a prat. I came to play. After all, you are visiting near my realm. You can't blame a girl for wondering what's brought you to this part of the world." She tapped a dark nail against her lips as she contemplated the girl's bound back.

Leonid felt a rise of violence inside him the more she looked at Anna. Her presence was one he would not welcome again in any condition but now, here, threatening as she was, he found it difficult to control the rage he felt. But he did. If he overreacted, he might compromise the girl, and Emera had warned him how human he himself was behaving. He chose not to answer the goddess and instead ran his fingers along Anna's skin in a measure that was soothing to him, though she whimpered in fear.

"This one seems so deliciously frightened," Imonesh purred as she flicked out her tongue against her lips, her eyes glowing in the darkness as she reached out to Anna, who twitched as the goddess made contact. Leonid held her fast, willing his face away from the turbulence he felt inside. The need to rear up and crush the goddess who dared touch his girl was tempting his control. He had to move Anna somehow. He had hesitated too long when she first arrived, and now it would be too suspicious. He cursed himself for being triply foolish as Imonesh raked her nails along the girl's back, making her writhe in his lap.

"I have given you the impression I want your company," he said, allowing more of his power into his voice. He was not one to be trifled with and Imonesh was overstepping most deliberately.

"Don't forsake my presence so quickly. We can still wring some fun out of her," came the reply and Anna gave a small cry as the goddess continued to maul her skin. Leonid felt a rush of anger but standing up and strangling the goddess would surely be a sign that he was losing himself. The continued assault on Anna was distracting as it played on emotions he should not be experiencing. Gathering himself, he forsook his promise to remain apart and moved into her mind to create a space for her consciousness to be protected from the physical experience of pain. He turned towards Imonesh, his mask now firmly in place.

"If you are testing to see if I rise to your bait again, you are wasting your time. I've spent many long years free of your countenance and I find that I long for its absence again." From his seat he was eye level with the smaller deity and he enjoyed the flicker of uncertainty in her eye.

"It has been an age, hasn't it? And how am I to feel that after so long I find you back in my corner of the world playing with the animals." Anna's body jerked under his hands. He wanted badly to wrap her in his arms and take her far away from this.

"You are trying my patience, Imonesh. If you do not leave my company now I doubt you will enjoy the consequences."

The goddess tilted her head back and laughed, a tinkling musical noise that might be lovely if it didn't come from such a contemptible creature. "You threaten me in my realm? In my seat of power?" She leaned into him, her hand still at Anna's back. Leonid felt Anna sobbing into his shirt and took little comfort in the refuge he had given her, knowing it could not last. The goddess retracted her bloody fingers from his girl and licked her nail, leaving a bright streak of red against her bronze tongue. "You seem to think boundaries don't apply to you, you're wrong."

Her eyes held a challenge as she licked the blood from her fingers, flicking her tongue out over the talon-like nails.

Without displaying the fury inside him, Leonid removed the ropes, allowing himself the briefest moment of feeling Anna's body against his own before he pushed her to the ground, her face constantly shielded by her hair from the goddess's view. It proved unnecessary as Imonesh had fixed her eyes on him as he rose up before her. He saw the opening and willed Anna back to her room in the inn, safe from the goddess before him.

"Well now that you have ruined my entertainment for tonight we can stop with the pretense." Leonid stared down at the goddess. "Why are you seeking me out, Imonesh? I believe we both know it is unwise to tempt my anger."

"Angry at me?" she said with false innocence. "I set you free from your master, Leonid, showed you a way around your stuck-up mate. Why should you be angry at me?" She reached out to him with fingers still streaked in Anna's blood. He grasped her wrist before she could make contact with his shirt.

"Have you enjoyed playing world builder then? Happy in the little kingdom you've helped bring to ruin?" The contact with her skin was uncomfortable. It brought back memories best left burned and buried.

"Poor Leonid," she cooed. "Always so short sighted." She pressed herself against him, tipping her head back so she could look into his face. "Don't be angry; I've missed you."

The barb stuck. The implication that he had missed something was not lost on him. After avoiding other gods for so long he was beginning to suspect that he was ill prepared for the complexities of their current politics. But it didn't matter. The press of her body brought about a different anger, one that easily shaded whatever manipulation he might be subjected to. He looked at her hard. "Why are you here, Imonesh? Why did you come looking for me?"

She looked surprised for a fraction of a second. "You are in my realm now, Leonid. One might think you were seeking me out."

A puzzle piece fell into place. "You expect me to believe that you sensed my mere presence in your land? When all I did was acquire a mortal for a few hours of diversion?" She should not have that power, not given the level of separation required between gods and their allowance of influence in this world. She could have followers, mortals in her service, whom she could influence. She could observe, as all gods did, from above. But to be able to pinpoint the presence of another god who was not invoking power or calling upon her subjects? That should not be possible.

Imonesh gave another sly smile as she smoothed her free hand up in chest. "I may have been passing through on a night time stroll," but she changed topics fast enough to peak his suspicion. "You've been away so long, I feared you'd never return to me."

He saw through the ruse but played along, following her away from her unexplained use of power. "I never had any intention of returning to you. As lovely as the last time was, I do not intend to repeat the process."

"Are you afraid of me, Leo?" she cried in mock surprise. "Afraid I might deceive you into having some fun again? You can't be worried about your precious Emera. She has no stake left here for me to uproot."

The mention of Emera gave him pause. "You do delight in your power over others." She slid against him, and gave a small sound in affirmation.

"We are gods, Leonid," she whispered seductively as she brought her face to his ear. "It is what we are made for. Our true power is just out of reach, just beyond the petty distractions. And to gain power we much take it from someone else." She twisted her still captured wrist, trying to reach for him again. "No energy is made or destroyed in our universe, which means gains in one place must mean losses in another. Surely you, of all of us, understand that."

The truth of her words irritated his control. He could feel the dark desires welling up, so he focused his mind on the goddess before him, distraction over destruction—over even true power.

Leonid clamped down on her arm, his other hand capturing her other hand and he twisted them both behind her back so he could hold them in one fist, wrenching her shoulders and eliciting a small cry of surprise from her. "But you like having your power taken from you too, don't you?"

"Leonid, what—" she started before he brought his unoccupied hand to her mouth, silencing her with the palm of his hand against her pouting lips.

"You like to manipulate others, to connive and plot. But you love chaos as well, the possibility that some little plot might get out of control, that you might unleash something far beyond what you intended." There was a deep hatred that Leonid recognized inside himself. He had carried it for this woman for more than a century, buried beneath his own failings. That hatred clouded the beast inside, quieted it some so he was less tempted to lose all control. His grip tightened on her wrist, he brought his hand down her neck and palmed her round breast roughly through the silk.

"Leonid, stop!" Imonesh cried as he squeezed her breast. Knowing that she could not feel the same level of physical pain as a mortal, as Anna, didn't stop him. He enjoyed the panic as wisps of coppery fire played along her skin, her power attempting to push him away.

He laughed in her face, his own black power seeping out and meeting hers to battle them down. He was older, and stronger, and angry. "Are you scared, Imonesh dear? That you may have played with fire that burns?" he lowered his hand between her legs, ignoring her attempts to stop him. He had a dark desire to punish her, to force her to bend to him. "Or do you secretly like it? Did you seek me out to see if you couldn't prod the dragon again after I disappointed you the last time?" He lowered his mouth, placing a threatening kiss on her cheek before latching his teeth onto her neck.

Imonesh cried out, twisting in his grip, her power flaring out at him as she struggled. "Are you really so impotent?" she breathed hard in her struggle, "that this is how you try to display your power?" But Leonid felt it—her easy capitulation, the half-hearted struggle in her resistance. She wanted it, and that turned his stomach.

He released her skin, leaving an oozing bite mark. He met her flaming eyes with his cold ones. "You wish you mattered enough." He dropped her arms and stepped back from her, consolidating his power around him as he drew himself up, aloof and detached. She looked stunned at the sudden change in his demeanor. Part of him still wanted to grab her and force her to the ground, to pour his hate into her. But this punishment was much worse. She could never tolerate indifference.