Page 18 of Possession

I’m not sure what to say to that either, so I don’t say anything. I’ve never been able to read his thoughts the way he can mine. In fact, he’s often a faint presence until he decides to speak. Sometimes, like now, I wish I could know what he’s thinking.

For a few minutes, the two of us sit in silence. It isn’t possible to ignore Aris entirely, but I make an effort not to think of anything and just watch the fire instead. Like trees, I haven’t seen fire in a long time either.

Are we going to talk about it now? Aris says suddenly.

I look away from the fireplace and glance at the double doors solemnly. About what?

The body.

My inhale is sharp. I’m still stung from what he said before, and he’s gained considerably more power since yesterday, but I won’t relent on this. It’s my body. I had it first.

But I’m here now. Aris stirs in his spot above my heart. And it’s our body. I’m willing to share.

“How kind,” I spit, and I’m so irritated that I don’t even notice that I’m speaking aloud.

Aris says nothing, waiting. He knows there’s more.

“If you have your power back,” I say tiredly, the bite gone from my words, “why don’t you just go possess someone else, or take your true form? Why do you need me?”

You’re mine, Mary. You’re my host. Even if I could leave, which I can’t, given that the amulet is still attached to our pretty neck, I wouldn’t.

That takes a long, suffocating moment to digest. I’ve always known Aris to be territorial with me. It’s not the same thing as caring—it’s more a sense of ownership he seems to have developed. He’s called me “his” before and has objected to anyone touching me, but I didn’t think that feeling was strong enough to stop him from leaving if the opportunity presented itself. As often as he’s claimed ownership, he’s expressed disappointment in my body just the same: I’m too thin, too short, too weak. I always thought that he wanted to go.

I shake my head. Again, I’m confused. “I don’t understand. If you’re able to suddenly take control of the body, and you want the body, why haven’t you already?”

I’m not putting the idea in his head; he would have already thought of it.

I want to share, Mary, he says.

“Well, I don’t want you in control. You’re just going to go around and kill people.”

You think so little of me? I am reformed after all of those videos.

I can’t help but scoff, though the ridiculousness does bring a weak smile to my lips. Exasperated amusement rolls through me—partly my own, partly his.

Reformed, huh?

We’ll finish this conversation later, he says abruptly, and I’m about to ask why we can’t talk now when the doors open.

Startled, I spin to see Silva with another man in the doorway. There’s no sign of Cera, and I assume she’s long gone after getting paid. Silva is smiling again, obviously overjoyed. If the sight is meant to comfort me, it does the exact opposite by reminding me of his smiling face through the eras.

The pictures seemed authentic. What the hell is he? Where has Cera taken me, and what am I getting myself into?

The second man standing directly behind Silva, towers at an incredibly daunting height. I’m not sure if he’s a bodyguard or what, but he doesn’t stray from Silva’s side and keeps his gaze focused on me, shooting daggers as the pair walk further into the room. He’s as wide as a doorframe, with arms thick as a tree trunk, and is completely threatening.

I shift on the couch. Aris said that Silva’s a worshiper, but something about this doesn’t feel right. With each step closer, my concern grows. Why did Silva lock the door before? Who is the other man? I don’t recognize him from the photos, but I didn’t check all of them.

What does Silva want? Why kidnap us?

How else was he supposed to get us out of there? Aris’ voice is lilting, teasing; it drives me crazy how calm he’s acting—I’m terrified out of my mind!

Well, I don’t know, but how did he know how to find us? And that girl, she was rough with me, and she went through the barrier! She used magic to get us out of there, but she didn’t have a wand. How does that work?

Hm, says Aris, which is helpful.

I want to yell at him. I want to run and hide. I want to be back in our cell, tucked away under blankets while I wait for the shifts to change, wondering if it will be Henry’s turn next. It was a prison, but I knew it. Understood it. Everything was clear and defined. Day in, day out—same food, same temperature, same books.

Out of nowhere, my entire world has shifted on its axis.

---