Page 23 of Obsession

“‘Please.’ So polite!” He gives me a nobleman’s bow. “Very well then. Their lucky day, and my gift to you.”

He looks over his shoulder at them, a smile tugging at his lips, and I grow nervous that he’ll change his mind. “So, we’re going?” I ask.

His attention returns to me. “Yes. We should retire.”

“What about your meeting?”

He smiles, pleased. “You have been keeping up on me. Yes, well, they can wait.”

I imagine the leaders of the Western world stuck in a room, waiting for the return of Aris. The most powerful men and women, subject to the whims of a god.

Exactly as he wants it.

“Ryan, your business is finished; you will return with us,” says Aris. Ryan grumbles something, and Aris turns toward him with an arched brow. “There will be more. Later.”

Ryan’s eyes flit to me, then back to his master. I don’t need to be a telepath to know that he doesn’t trust me, and the possible consequences of his mistrust. It isn’t great that he’s coming along; he knows I’m scheming, and he is not amused by it the way Aris is.

Without preamble, Aris swipes his hand, and the world changes. Cracked asphalt morphs to dark hardwood, shattered windows, rubble, and ruins, replaced by ornate wall fixtures and antique furniture.

Stumbling on my feet, I look around, trying to reorient myself. The area is familiar, but it takes a second to place it as the hall where Aris first transformed Ryan. Perhaps, functionally, it’s meant to be a foyer, but it looks like something out of Gothic Architecture Weekly: ribbed vaulting with carved masonry, corinthian columns with disturbing designs—depictions of screaming children and murder—and stained glass with a masterful depiction of Aris in battle.

The home of the Following of the Forewarned, where Aris and I lived while he was still inside me. Here, his followers crooned over him and treated me like trash. Our time here climaxed with a celebratory ball, where their leader, Dominachion, stabbed and almost killed me.

I turn to Aris. “You could’ve warned me,” I mutter. I hate changing locations like that—it’s so disconcerting. Much less coming back here.

His smile grows, and he takes a few steps closer to me. Closer than I’d like, because my body doesn’t mind the proximity.

“I like watching your surprise,” he murmurs, then smiles. “Welcome home.”

Chapter seven

Pulling back, Aris nods to someone I hadn’t noticed before—a maid lurking in the shadows. She’s hardcore goth, with black streaks in her brown hair and raccoon-like eyeliner, chipped nails, and skin so pale that I’m reminded of a clown. She’s a little older than me and wears a dress like an eighteenth-century maid, like it’s Halloween or a cosplay convention.

I recognize her as the unpleasant one who served me the last time I was here. She probably cheered while I was bleeding to death at the gala.

She remains a few paces back, but her posture is erect, and Aris soon indicates her closer with a twitch of a finger. She immediately comes.

“She will care for you here,” he says, and my brow wrinkles.

I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. There has been almost no gloating or threats. He hasn’t demanded to know where I was or why I’ve come back. He’s just… letting me settle in? He’s giving me a maid?

Aren’t we going to at least talk about him slaughtering the mages? How about him possessing my boyfriend, or destroying Berlin? Isn’t he curious what plans I’ve come up with to fight him?

“You are to take her to your room and care for her,” Aris says to the woman. “You will obey and follow her requests for the remainder of her stay.”

She nods, keeping her eyes on the ground.

Aris pauses and returns his gaze to me, scanning me. Finally, he nods to himself, finding his package still in mint condition, and he leaves without another word.

I stare after him for a moment, surprised by his swift departure, and watch the lumbering mass that is Ryan follow behind. A dog trailing his master. He has to duck and angle through the doorway, unaltered to suit his height.

I wonder where they’re going. What they’re doing. Planning.

Something twinges in my chest from him walking away after we just reunited. I didn’t necessarily expect him to shower me with affection and attention, but, still…

Glancing away, I jump to find the maid suddenly next to me. “As you heard, I have been assigned to you for the duration of your stay,” she says woodenly.

I blink at her empty expression and dull eyes. “What’s your name?” I ask. I don’t really care, but it’s the polite thing to say.

---