His eyes dart to mine and narrow. “Why?”
My stomach tightens, and I feel my confidence once again fading. I want to crawl into one of the many snake holes surrounding us to hide from him. I lie back, covering my eyes with my arm, and answer like a spoiled brat. “Because.”
Because? Because? Jesus Contessa.
“Answer me!” Mastyx’s voice booms, echoing across the field and making my eyes spring open.
A tremor vibrates through my core as fear creeps in, threatening to ruin every ounce of courage and confidence I’ve gained until this point. I frown up at Mastyx, but show no fear. Instead, I turn my attention to the landing strip where the plane just taxied, and at the marshaller standing nearby, his light-up wand in hand, his brow furrowed in confusion.
My head, now suddenly clear, offers him an explanation. “I wanted to see if you retook a person’s face, as you did with the guy from the fair and the one from the gas station, and you did. So, that’s what happens? You can take the face and use it?”
“Yes,” he murmurs before turning away from me.
“Ha, I knew it. I knew that’s what was happening.” I lie back down and close my eyes with a smile, my confidence returning.“And when you said to me that I’ve given you a gift no human could comprehend, what did you mean?”
A slight breeze drifts around me, and I rub the chill on my arm before opening my eyes, “Mastyx?” I look left and right, before crawling to a stand, naked as the day I was born on an airstrip, alone in the dark.
Chapter Twenty-One
Heart to Heart
It’s been months since Mastyx took the twenty-two souls at the tavern and left me in my birthday suit on the airfield. The incident not only rocked our tiny town, but it also made national news.
Since then, I’ve only given him one more soul—a man whom I witnessed kicking his son in the back because he wasn’t walking fast enough. The child’s better off without him, at least that’s what I tell myself.
Despite not getting all my questions answered, I did manage to solve one important mystery. Mastyx can use the face of the recently departed after consuming their soul. When he takes a soul, their likeness is absorbed into him as well, and his unearthly body can use it like a human mask or, in some cases, like an entire suit to cover his demon-like form.
The child’s father wasn’t good-looking at all. In fact, he was borderline grotesque in a meth-head sort of way. A few times when Mastyx made me look at him and the bleeding scabs on his greasy face, bile crept up in my mouth.
I really need to think carefully next time I go looking for someone to taunt into my web so Mastyx can suck the life out of them like a spider. Because let’s face it, looksdomatter.
After another round of research, spending countless hours learning more about who, or should I say what, Mastyx is, taking me down a rabbit hole of knowledge and dark tales, I found some relevant information. Knowledge is power after all, and from what I’ve learned, I can steer our erotic relationship in certain ways with how many souls I give him.
The Aztecs once performed public sacrifices to feed the sun god and maintain a cosmic balance. When I think of the sun god, I think about Mastyx. Could that be who the Aztecs really sacrificed to? The devil? A demon?
Mastyx is hot and fiery after all, and the deaths do technically maintain a cosmic balance between good and evil. By picking sinners and men who deserve it, I feel like I’m balancing the scales of society.
I don’t have to sacrifice anyone, but the fact that I can lure men to their death on purpose and let Mastyx take their souls gives a gift not only to him but to me. I get a human or semi-human sexual being to fuck, and he gets a notch in his soul belt, so to speak. Not only that, but I also have the power to choose who dies, giving me even more confidence.
It makes sense to me. At least, I think it does.
Keeping a lighter or matches with me is imperative. That way, if someone tries to hurt me, I can have them killed with the simple lighting of a flame, which brings a smile to my face so broad that it hurts. For the first time in a long time, I’m not afraid.
During last month’s encounter, I noticed Mastyx’s human form was starting to disintegrate. His skin was paper-thin, the flesh on his face stretched so tight it looked like thin wax, and his footsteps sounded more thunderous as if made by hooves.
Today, there’s nothing remotely human remaining. He’s back to the bloody skeleton, fiery-faced demon who wears the mask to make me more comfortable. He needs a fresh soul.
His hooves clank against my bedroom floor as he stands and gazes down at me.
Our muddy relationship is not only unnatural, but it’s also wrong on so many levels. And yet, I look forward to our time together. It was easier to fall into a routine than I thought. I’d never have guessed in a million years that my future mate would be a demon from hell. But here I am, wishing that we could talk freely like a normal couple.
I forget sometimes, when we are lying side by side, that he’s not human but a superior being who steers and bends our relationship to his will, not mine. Although he fulfills my needs and desires, sexually, there is no emotional depth, no love or feelings that aren’t superficial. He’ll never tell me he loves me. We will never be wed or live happily ever after. I have so many questions and feelings that have been building up inside me that no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake them. I’m overwhelmed, confused, and feeling lost as of late. It’s as though I don’t know my place in this world as the lines between good and evil blur.
I’m fighting to feel normal, to be normal, but there’s an intoxicating need that gnaws inside of me, creeping into my head and corrupting my moral compass. I want Mastyx in human form all the time. I crave him—the thrill of luring the sinners to their deaths, getting away with it, and the reward Mastyx gives me that follows.
I shouldn’t feel this way, and I often wonder if somehow the more I’m with him, the more his evil seeps inside of me, corrupting whatever soul I have left.
I’ve even had a crazy fantasy after watching the movie Carrie about covering my body in a thick layer of blood and letting Mastyx lick me clean. I can’t get the idea out of my head.
