Page 62 of Possession

I know that I’m safe, at least for now, but what about Henry? I have the brief, horrible image of Ryan running forward to squash Henry, grinding him into a greasy smear like a moth under a thumb. Aris’ flare of amusement does nothing to comfort me.

Let me back in control.

Are you ordering me now?

It was my turn, Aris! I hesitate, frustrated. If I continue to push him and he gets angry, will I be shoved away and put in that dark place? Will he lose control? Come on, please!

Begging does not become you.

“I don’t believe that we’ve been introduced,” Henry says slowly—and way too calmly, considering what stands before him.

“I don’t that believe you have.”

Henry’s eyes slide in our direction. “Aris,” he politely regards with a nod of his head. “Might I ask who you’ve brought here?”

His voice catches slightly on the word “who,” as if he had to stop himself from asking what is here.

“This is my servant.”

Ryan rises from the ground, saying nothing, but he is tense, a weapon cocked.

“I see,” Henry says slowly. “And does he have a name?”

“Would it matter?”

Henry’s smile is strained. “Might I speak with Mary?” he asks.

Aris folds our hands into fists, then relaxes them, stretching the fingers out. “Of course,” he says at length, lips twitching into a nasty smirk. “But if her feet are cut on this glass, I will tear off your own.”

Henry immediately hurries forward to life and carry me back onto the couch. As I feel the cushions beneath me and know that I am now in front, I let out a sigh and go to thank Henry, but he’s busy kicking away the glass lying in my proximity. Seeing him work with such fervor, I lose my gratitude and feel the need to apologize instead.

“It’s okay,” I say quietly, voice tight and awkward as both Henry and Ryan turn to stare at me.

“Who is that?” Henry asks, wasting no time as he nods at the nine-foot monstrosity.

“Ryan. He’s one of Aris’ followers.”

“And he’s here to…?”

What does Ryan want?

To serve me.

“He won’t hurt you,” is what I say, since I think that’s what Henry really wants to ask.

He would, if I asked him to.

Then don’t ask him to!

I release a sharp, annoyed breath, before clarifying, “He wants to help Aris. Worship him.”

“And how will he be doing that?” asks Henry tightly, and I suddenly realize he’s upset with me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” I say, flustered and almost falling over myself to get the words out. “I swear. Aris just says…”

The hard edges of Henry’s face make me lose my nerve. For a terrible moment, I’ve no idea if he believes me or not.

As always, Aris is feeling amusement that the moment does not call for. I wonder if he only wanted to speak with you because you’re easier to be angry with?

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