Chapter Four

How hard could it be?

I should not have challenged the universe or my curse.

Seducing Yiuwa was not so much difficult as just impossible. Not for lack of trying, of course, but simply because Yiuwa appeared entirely oblivious to everything. He smiled, sure, but there was a confusion in his eyes that told me he had no idea what was going on. And oddly enough, it only made me want to try harder.

Which made no sense. Why was I working so hard for a one-night stand? I could get exactly the same thing from Yiuwa from any other male on the planet, so why was it that my eyes never left him? Why was I still bothering with him? There were trillions of other males in the universe that were more than willing to take me to bed, even if just for a night, and yet I couldn't get away from Yiuwa.

It was disconcerting.

No, it had to be what Viviana was saying, just running around in my head. She was always trying to get into my head. I couldn't risk hoping for what she was encouraging me to do. I'd already made that horrid mistake once and I was not going to do it again.

The image of flames flashed under my eyelids and I snapped my eyes open quickly. Gone with the flames and I found myself looking across the mosaic tile table at Yiuwa, who was sipping his cappuccino and licking the white foam from his lips. My eyes followed his tongue as it slid from one side of his mouth to the other, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled. His eyes lifted to find mine and I quickly danced my gaze away to somewhere else in the quaint little coffee shop.

The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh baked desserts were a nice distraction, plus the smooth jazz coming from the mounted speakers.

"This is delicious," Yiuwa commented, placing his cup down and picking up a biscotti. I inclined my head, picking up my black coffee and taking a swallow, savoring the mild Colombian balance.

"Inferi is popular in terms of coffee," I replied, "They import a lot of coffee from Mictlan."

"Theo mentioned that a lot of the public places don't sell Hades grown product," Yiuwa answered and I nodded.

"Any food grown from the ground here makes it so that you cannot leave if ingested, so Hades does a lot of importing from other realms. It's usually long time locals who eat the food here, or the Sons, as they are free to roam in and out as they please," I explained. Yiuwa nodded in understanding, then leaned forward with his elbows on the table.

"You know quite a bit. You must have lived here for a while," he said. I glanced at him to see his sparkling yellow eyes on me, then quickly turned my glance out the window where rain drops rain down the glass panes and people passed by under umbrellas, laughing and carrying shopping bags.

"Hades is a very popular place. Even during its darker periods and during the Titan reign, it was everyone's go to place," I responded. And gods, did I remember the way it used to be around here. Much darker, definitely not as wild as Hell had once been before Lucifer got his hands on it, but darker still. Candle lights and magic lit the way through small clustered towns. Back then, Styx had been a simple fishing town. Back then, the docks had been the main hub of things, filled with boats docked at the port, farmers selling their crop to the fishermen. And Hades hadn't been the ruler during that time. In fact, it had been Nyx and Erebus, though very reluctantly, as Rhea and Cronus hadn't trusted the two of them in the least.

"How about we go do something after this?" Yiuwa asked, sitting up. I frowned curiously.

"Such as?"

"I'm not sure, perhaps more sightseeing? I'd really like to see more."

I suppose there was no harm in just showing him around. It'd give me more time to figure him out. It wasn't as if I had a busy schedule anyway. I just hoped I wasn't pushing this. I really hoped.

"Inferi has a butterfly garden," I said after a moment, making Yiuwa brighten, "It's the largest in the realm. Let's stop by there after this."

"Sounds good," Yiuwa agreed, then took another sip of his drink before looking at me, "Thank you for this, by the way. I really appreciate it. I've wanted to do more venturing into this world, but I've felt the need to be around Theo constantly. But I suppose it's better now that he has Adonis."

I couldn't wrap my head around that. Adonis and Theo.

But it made sense. They'd both drawn the shortest straw in life and suffered a lot. It made sense that they were drawn to one another, not only to heal each other, but themselves as well. And seeing that Yiuwa even approved of the relationship was comforting.

When I'd met Theo, I had a strange attraction to him right off the bat. I'd want to pursue something, for some stupid reason, but I'd stopped myself because I'd looked into Theo's eyes and I'd seen the pain he was in. I sensed it. He wasn't ready to move on. He wasn't in a healthy state of mind. He needed to heal himself before he could attempt a relationship with anybody.

And I would have only made his life so much worse. He'd had enough bad luck as it was. He deserved happiness.

"I'm glad Theo has found someone he likes," I said at last. Yiuwa smiled.

"Myself as well. When we first met... he seemed so lost," he murmured, his yellow eyes becoming shadowed, "And I feel his pain, his confusion. The Beast makes it so much more difficult to handle. One wrong move and the Beast could become angered and all would be lost. It's like living on a bed of glass. One crack is all it could take to shatter everything." I swallowed at that, watching the haunted look in his eyes as he stroked the rim of his cup.

An unbidden memory rose to the surface as I stared into the yellow of his eyes, getting a brief flash of flames before it faded and I found myself remembering the day I met him.

The world had been young still, yet so much had happened to leave it scarred and beaten. Wars had been fought amongst the gods to divi up their human worshippers. The mortal plane had been swept by plague after plague, massive floods that spanned continents. Finally the gods had begun to settle and so, too, their peoples. I had been attracted to the land of the Greeks. They were prosperous, or at least, those who were wealthy and did well to worship their gods reverently.

I remembered sitting just outside a small fishing village, my rod dug deep between some stones as the river flowed by gently. I could still remember the fresh crisp scent of it, the sound of it trickling by. I heard a twig snap and I jerked my head up, swinging around and reaching to the holster on my ankle to draw my blade. Standing near a set of trees was probably the most beautiful male I'd ever seen in my entire life. My grasp on my blade even faltered as I stared.

Even a millennia later, I remembered what he looked like. His skin was kissed by the sun, warm and tanned, his hair a gorgeous wave of brown-blonde, naturally highlighted, and his eyes a caramel brown. He was muscular, tawny, built for raw strength and brutality, wore leather that hugged his figure tight. He was the very essence of masculinity and power. My mouth watered at the thought of sinking my teeth into his strong corded neck, my fingers itching to feel his steel muscles.

"Be not afraid," he said quickly, holding his hands up. His voice was a delicious deep warmth, rippled with ancient accent that rolled his Rs. I tensed anyway, holding my blade to me tightly. I immediately knew he wasn't a human. A quick scan revealed he was some kind of godling and I could only guess he was a war god by his armor.

"Who are you?" I demanded, keeping my blade in my fist. The male paused, clearly sensing my weapon, but he kept his hands up to reveal he had none, save for the sword in his scabbard and bow slung across his back with a quiver empty of arrows.

"My name is Petros," he said softly, "My apologies for frightening you. I felt your presence and assumed you were someone-- something else. To whom do I speak?" I didn't trust him immediately. I simply stared at him for the longest time, gauging him for a reaction, but he waited patiently.

A rare treat, I thought warily. Gods were not known for their patience.

"I am called Rowan," I said after a while, feeling odd at the rare introduction of myself and my new name, "Am I trespassing?" Petros's dark eyes flickered to my fishing pole, then back to me. He shook his head, his dark hair swinging by his stubbled jaw.

"I want to protect my peoples," he said, making me arch a brow, "What?"

"Nothing," I said after a moment, returning my blade, knowing full well I could just rely on my magic if he attempted to attack me, "Simply odd for a Greek to wish to protect their peoples after basically murdering them in cold blood for what? A century?" Petros's eyes darkened. I'd clearly struck a nerve there, but then as quickly as his expression had clouded, it lightened and he took a deep breath, clearly to calm himself.

"I am sorry that my pantheon has given you such a sour view of us," he said, surprising me when he bowed low, "But I assure you that I am no such god. Not anymore." He straightened. I stared at him and he stared back. I didn't know what to make of him. He was unlike any other god I'd met, and I'd met thousands before him. All of them proud, arrogant, quick to anger. But not him. He caught himself before he could lash out at me. He apologized to me on behalf of his pantheon.

"Why are you fishing?" He asked, surprising me.

"To eat," I responded. Petros frowned.

"Could you not simply reach in and coax one into your palm?" He asked, walking over. I made sure to keep him within my peripheral vision as I turned to my rod, which had yet to catch any bites.

"Where's the fun in that?" I asked. Petros looked at me curiously.

"It is fun for you to sit here for hours with naught a bite? Surely you would starve," he pointed out. I felt the corner of my lips twitch at that. His question was so innocent. This was clearly a god accustomed to receiving what he wanted when he wanted, how he wanted. He was spoiled by magic and unsullied with work considered lowbrow.

"I catch when I am quiet," I replied, "I catch because I am patient. The fish will come when they are ready."

"Ready to die?" Petros asked. Now that succeeded in making me laugh.

"No, when they are ready to eat themselves," I answered upon sobering. Petros cocked his head, clearly baffled by the concept that a fish would take the bait knowing it could be a trap. I gestured for him to sit, and he surprisingly obeyed. I sat beside him and we waited.

"What god are you?" Petros asked softly after a while.

"A god of night," I answered equally as quiet.

"What pantheon?"

"My pantheon is gone."

"My apologies."

"And you?"

"I am a god of bloodlust and chaos," he whispered, hugging his knees to his chest as he watched the stream, his dark eyes haunted, "I was originally to be a god of home and hearth... But I had cast upon me a curse." I stared at him and I waited. I felt the disruption, felt the teetering in him that indicated a curse. I knew not which one at the time we met, but I had learned shortly thereafter.

Petros had been cursed at birth by the Fates in order to torment his father, who had killed the child of another god. And when Petros had proven to be too much to handle, his father had abandoned him and the Greek pantheon had scorned him, left him out of their rituals, did not allow their peoples to know of his presence. Even though he came himself to protect his people. They had no idea that the only reason their fishing village was so prosperous was due to Petros, that the reason they had such fine luck to be left out of the wars of the larger cities was because of Petros. The reason they had a low mortality rate, and a long lifespan. Why illnesses were rare. Why deaths were peaceful with old age.

And all it took was one crack in the glass, as Yiuwa had said. One crack and everything shattered to pieces.

I blinked away the image of flames to see that Yiuwa was finished with his meal and sipping out the rest of his coffee. I rose with him as we left, heading out into the streets of Inferi with our umbrellas popped open. I led the way in the direction of the butterfly garden with Yiuwa following close beside me.

"Do you live in Inferi?" Yiuwa asked. I glanced at him, then looked up ahead.

"It's a nice city, but not quite my style. Viviana's a fan, though, clearly."

"So you live in Styx."

I didn't answer. Yiuwa was quiet for awhile as we walked. We walked a good few blocks before the butterfly garden came into view. It was a massive white dome-like building with sleek mirrored panels and a garden that ran around behind it. We approached the front doors and went inside, going to the front desk to purchase our tickets before we went into the first room, which was a small basic little garden of succulents and ivy. A couple of brightly colored butterflies floated by, dancing around the colorful plants. One flew by Yiuwa, whose eyes followed it as it passed between us.

Except his eyes stayed on me.

"Will you answer my question?" He asked. I frowned.

"You didn't ask me anything."

"Yes, I did. Earlier."

"I'm afraid I don't remember," I replied simply, turning back around, "We're going to enter the next room. There are larger butterflies in this one, something about prehistoric origins." I looked down at the pamphlet in my hand, but Yiuwa slipped the pamphlet from my hands and I looked up, arching a brow as he looked back at me. He didn't say anything, didn't repeat his question, just turned and led the way to the next room. I frowned curiously and followed him.

Thankfully, he seemed absorbed in the butterflies by the time we reached the next room. He was all about the oohs and ahhs, even trying to figure out the camera on his phone, which I helped him with. I stood close to him as I showed him how to work the camera. I could feel his warm breath, smell the sweet sugar on his breath from his meal. And his own unique masculine scent, a spicy musk that reached to something deep inside me, triggering a hum through my blood. I closed my eyes to savor it for a moment before handing Yiuwa his phone. He took it with a nod and began to take photos.

I turned to admire some of the plants, more interested in them than the butterflies themselves. Perhaps I was odd, but I'd never thought of butterflies as particularly beautiful. Once you got a close up of their faces, the beauty tended to fade away. Not to mention, they were so fragile. Even the strongest gust of wind would rip their wings from their bodies and send them spiraling down to the ground to become a feast for ants.

No, I prefered plants. They survived through so much. They were beautiful no matter how strange they looked. They came in such variety and some of them smelled quite sweet, others like citrus. They provided us with sustenance and they helped us breath.

I heard a shutter click somewhere behind me and I frowned, turning to see Yiuwa looking down at his phone. I leaned over to see what photo he'd taken, but he shoved his phone in his pocket and gave me a warm smile. Weird.

"This was a good idea," he said, making me nod slowly, "I enjoy this place very much."

"I'm glad. Is there anywhere else you would like to see?"

"How about something a little more interactive?"

"Interactive?" I asked. Yiuwa nodded as we made our way back to the front room of the garden.

"I would like to get to know you more and clearly talking to you isn't going to work. So perhaps something that requires to participate more actively," he explained. This time, for some reason, he was taking the lead as he took us out onto the street. As I popped open my umbrella and held it over my head, Yiuwa was smiling, looking strangely confident. Had he been working up to this? Perhaps he wasn't as oblivious to me as I had originally thought.

I could think of something very interactive that would keep us busy for the rest of the day, of course, but I wasn't sure now if saying so would be the right move, so I stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do you like music?" I asked after a moment. What a stupid question, and Yiuwa smiled at that, like he thought the question was cute or something. Certainly not a thought anyone would have about me, though. It was difficult for people to find a six foot eight male who never spoke and bled evil to be cute.

"I do."

"Come with me."

This time, I took the lead, though Yiuwa stuck close as we walked down the street and headed toward a large four story building made of brick with heavy black framed windows. Neon signs lit up the outside and music played from speakers mounted outside the glass doors. I led the way inside and we received our brochures before heading down a short dark hallway.

"This is Inferi's music museum," I explained at Yiuwa's curious stare around the place, "You can listen to any music you want here, create it with anything you wish. They have an interesting exhibit on freestyle jazz that you can join in." Yiuwa looked at me.

"You like music."

"Everyone does."

"What kind of music do you like?"

"Trip hop mainly," I answered, then caught myself, because fuck, that was the first time I'd answered a question straight forward. I stood there puzzled and Yiuwa seemed pleased with the answer, and somehow, I felt happy that he was pleased. I had no idea why pleasing him any other way aside from sexually was gratifying, and it gave me an odd tugging sensation in my stomach.

I followed Yiuwa as we maneuvered through the rooms, each one dedicated to a major genre of music. We went in and out of rooms, listening to rap, hip hop, pop, country, instrumental, jazz, blues, the list went on. Yiuwa seemed particularly fascinated by blues and instrumental, so we spent quite a while in each of those rooms. He thoroughly enjoyed the program that allowed you to create your own music.

"What is this instrument," Yiuwa murmured in fascination.

"Harmonica," I replied, "It's a small instrument. It looks like that one over there." Yiuwa followed my finger, then closed his eyes as he savored the sound and added it to the bank he started to make his music. It turned into a mess of instruments by the end, the corner of my lips quirking as Yiuwa scowled at the machine.

"It sounded better when it was just the guitar and harmonica with a little piano. Perhaps I added too much."

"Listen carefully," I said, adjusting the volume levels of the instruments and changing a few out, "You got over excited with all the instruments. Certain instruments complement others better. Try this." I hit play and Yiuwa paused at that, looked awed by the sound.

"What is that other instrument? It sounds like a piano, but..."

"Keyboard. It can change the pitch, the sound, of the piano keys."

"That's incredible."

"Indeed."

"I want this," Yiuwa decided, taking out his card to swipe it in the machine and purchase the song. I smiled as he plugged his phone into the machine and downloaded the tune before he played it on his phone and smiled at that. He glanced up at me and I met his eyes. He stared at me for the longest time and I stared back. And again, that strange feeling filled me. This magnetic sensation to get closer, to feel those lips on mine, to feel his hands on me.

"Glad you like it," I said at last, unsure if I was talking about the feeling or the song. Yiuwa's yellow eyes seemed to glow as he tucked his phone away.

"I love it," he replied softly. I swallowed at that, clearing my throat and glancing at the time.

"Well, it's getting late. I should... get home," I said. Wait, what? What the hell just came out of my mouth? Yiuwa inclined his head in understanding.

"But of course. I will contact you once I've spoken to Theo. It was a pleasure to come out with you today," he explained. I nodded numbly. We headed out of the museum and made our way onto the street. Yiuwa turned to look at me, looked like he was going to say something, then appeared to change his mind last second. He gave me a small wave before vanishing on the spot, and I couldn't do anything, except stand there like a complete idiot, staring at the place where he'd been standing previously.

The sound of my phone ringing startled me out of my stupor and I picked it up, double checking the ID to confirm who it was.

"Simon," I greeted. There was no immediate response, making me frown, "Simon?"

"Shit," came Simon's groan, "Ro, I need... a really stupid favor." His breathing sounded labored. He sounded like he was in pain. His voice was strained, spoken through clenched teeth. It had been quite a while since I'd heard Simon in this much pain, and I immediately knew the source.

"I'm coming home," I responded, then hung up. I vanished from Inferi and reappeared on the porch of my home in Styx. I opened the door and shut it behind me, twisting the lock and glancing around the house. It was eerily quiet, save for the murmuring of the television that had been turned down low. It was smokey, meaning Simon had just finished a joint. Actually, judging from a glance at the table, he was in the process of it, but something had stopped him.

I narrowed my eyes, walking into the living room to stare down at the joint that sat in a glass bowl shaped like a marijuana leaf full of other little burnt out bits. I lifted my head. I could feel someone watching me. I slowly slid my coat off and set it aside, reaching up to the tie at my throat.

I barely started to loosen it when something slammed into me so hard that I went over the back of the sofa and hit the floor, gasping when my head bounced off the fucking floorboards. My vision tilted and swayed for a moment before I blinked to clear the blurriness. Above me on hands and knees, Simon was perched like a hungry cat, his fangs bared in my face, his dark eyes having become blood red with hunger.

"Simon, I thought you ate last night," I said calmly. He snarled at me and snapped his teeth. He couldn't form coherent words, so he snatched the front of my vest open, the buttons popping off and flying everywhere. He slashed open the front of my shirt and immediately dove down to lave my skin. I didn't fight him, let him lick a hot hungry path down to my pants, where he used his fangs to rip the waistband off.

"You didn't go to a brothel last night, did you," I murmured, watching him wrap his lips around me, his hot wet mouth engulfing me and sending little electric shocks through my system, "You stayed here. You didn't want to sleep with anyone who wasn't Aasimah." At the sound of her name, Simon froze. He blinked a few times, then immediately reeled back, making choking sounds of disgust. He coughed and spat on the floor.

"Fuck," he managed, blinking rapidly, "Shit. Rowan."

"Yes, that would be me."

"Jesus fuck, sorry, I'm sorry--"

"You don't need to apologize."

"I almost--"

"No, you didn't," I responded calmly, sitting up and tucking myself back into my pants, scooting back a couple feet to give him space, "Trust me, if I didn't want it, you would know. What happened to going to the brothel last night?" Simon gnashed his teeth together. He shook his head, reaching up to wipe his hands down his face. He was sweating profusely. He looked exhausted, dark circles making his eyes look sunken in. His normally rich dark skin was washed out, the sparkle in his eyes gone.

"Simon," I said again. He cursed, slamming his fists into the floor.

"Just get the fucking drug, Ro," he snapped without looking at me. I sighed, then lifted myself onto my feet. I went to the kitchen and got into one of the cupboards over the stove, taking out a small leather case. I took out one of the hypodermic needles, filled it with the clear liquid in one of the viles by the needles, then went to the living room where Simon was sitting on the sofa now, hunched over and clutching his stomach. I frowned.

"Simon, you need to eat--"

"I don't want to."

"Have you told Aasimah--"

"No," Simon barked, then cursed and hunched over further, "She can't... She can't have sex yet, she took a fucking vow of chastity, Ro." I cursed. Damn it. And while she knew Simon was an incubus, she probably didn't know which species exactly, which meant she probably had no idea that Simon was starving to death. Besides, it wasn't like they were dating, not really. Simon was still in the process of trying to woo her.

"You can't starve yourself until this thing works out with Aasimah," I said after a moment, making Simon cut me an icy glare, "If you do, you are going to hurt her, Simon." The look on Simon's face became one of pain. He looked away and hunched over, tucking his head between his knees and breathing hard like he was going to be sick.

"You need to talk to her. You don't have time to keep waiting. If you hadn't snapped out of it just now, you would have continued. And while I'm not bothered by it, she would be."

"I can't do that to her," Simon seethed, "I'm not going to hurt her. I won't."

"Then you need to feed."

"No."

"Simon, if you explained it to her, she'd understand--"

"Bullshit," Simon snapped, glaring at me, "You think females give a shit that I'm in pain? You think they're going to take pity on me and open their legs for me? That's not the fucking world we live in. The last time I tried to get a female, she accused me of being a fuckboy, whatever the fuck that means."

"Simon, Aasimah is not like that--"

"No, but she'll think its an excuse. She won't understand that-that..." He couldn't say it. And honestly, I felt sorry for him. He had a point. Aasimah was a smart female, incredibly strong and independent. It was how she was able to deal with Theo on a daily basis, not to mention Simon constantly harassing her to date him. And she was amused by Simon too. She liked the attention, but she clearly wasn't ready to have a serious relationship with him, had no idea what it involved to be in a relationship with an incubus of Simon's species.

Nigerian incubi needed to feed on a daily basis. They could go for a couple weeks maybe, but the longer they stretched it out, the hungrier they became. The more feral and bloodthirsty to the point where they would do anything to ease the physical and mental anguish caused by their hunger. They were known to completely destroy their meals if they became frenzied.

Simon had pretty good control of himself. I'd only seen him attack three people, and none of those three people did he actually penetrate, just pin down and growl at. One of which had actually been Stanton. And that was the thing; Simon was heterosexual. But sexuality didn't matter to an incubus; once they were hungry, they would need to feed on anything, whether it male or female. Adult or child. Demon or human. And if they starved themselves long enough, even if they could fight the rages, which was more often not, they died. They shriveled up and aged within hours before turning into a pile of dust.

"This isn't going to work," I said, setting the needle down and Simon looked at me bewildered, "The drug will only numb you for a couple of days. I won't be here to help you because I'll be in Yomi with Yiuwa." Simon sputtered.

"Then take me with you, you can--"

"No," I said calmly, slipping my shirt off and folding what was left of the shredded fabric, and Simon bared his fangs at me.

"No," Simon snapped, lunging to his feet and backing away from me, "Not again, Ro. One time and you were weak for days. You can't risk it right now, not with that Shifter, not when you're in another realm alone--"

"Shut up," I told him sternly, dropping my pants and tossing them on the sofa now, getting fed up with Simon's denial and he groaned, covering his face with his hands, "Just feed, Simon. I consent. Take what you need so you can keep seeing Aasimah, and tell her. Tell her that you want her. Tell her the truth about yourself. If she's truly the female of worth you see her as, then she will understand. She will not judge you."

"Ro--"

"And for the record," I said, walking up to him and watching him part his fingers so he could eye me warily, "You are a fuckboy. It means you're a dick." Simon growled, his fangs elongating. He dropped his hands from his face, his eyes shifting from red, then dark, then red again.

"Rowan--"

"Stop making excuses. We both know this is to save your life. I consent, Simon. Now do what you need to do before I make you," I warned him. Simon's eyes glowed red now and he lunged forward, snatching me and hauling me up against him. His arms twisted under mine, hung onto me, and he latched onto my throat, his fangs piercing my skin. I clenched my teeth against the burn of his fangs, against the venom that pooled from the glands behind his fangs. I felt the heat of it rush through my veins and I weakened against him, holding onto him to keep from hitting the floor.

"Fuck, I forgot about those," I murmured against him. He growled and bit down harder, making me wince. He suckled there for a moment, taking long pulls before he released me and shoved me backwards onto the sofa. I hit the suede and Simon ripped his shirt off over his head, climbing on top of me.

"You're a fucking prick," he snarled, grabbing a handful of my hair and forcing my head back. I smirked.

"And you're hungry. Now feed."