The demon chuckled and fell silent as he led him through the long hallways. They stopped at a new door after only a few minutes, and Leviathan let go of his hand before pushing it open and leading the way inside.
“This is my study.” He murmured as Cullen lookedaround the dimly lit room. There was a massive desk made of some type of dark wood he had never seen before. A long wall of ancient looking books and scrolls rested behind it, all of them secured away behind heavy glass doors. And the desk was littered with papers and books and little trinkets that looked as if they could be made from bone.
“Immortality gives you quite a long time to learn…well, just about anything you want. Languages, arts.” He shrugged. “Everything, really. You’re free to use this room.” He murmured, turning to face him. “Any room in this palace, actually. I have nothing to hide from you.”
Cullen grimaced suspiciously. “I’m perfectly…” He winced at the ache in his throat but forced out the rest in one breath. “Fine in my own room.” His boring, empty room…
Leviathan sighed, exasperated.
“Getting sick of me?” Cullen challenged, his voice catching. “Maybe you should just let me go.”
He chuckled and swiveled his head to look at him in that unnatural way. The bravado Cullen had been faking dissipated at the sight.
“If I got sick of you, Cullen,” he murmured as he turned towards him. “I would simply tear your heart out and eat it raw.”
His lips parted with a soft gasp; the sound instantly had Leviathan stepping towards him, a slow smile pulling at his lips. Cullen stumbled backwards with a gasp, his eyes widening, and then cried out sharply when his back hit the sharp wall behind him. Just as he’d expected before, the little pinpoints of rock sliced immediately through his clothes and into his skin, making him flinch.
“Scared, pet?”
“No.” He spat, pressing back harder against the wall,using the pain to clear his mind as the darkness within threatened to take over again. He wasn’t sure what had set it off this time but he wouldnotbe kissing him again. “Don’t touch me.”
Leviathan ignored him, leaning into him with a soft exhale, his nose skimming along his cheek before his lips moved to his ear. When Cullen began to tremble again, Leviathan pressed his forearm flat to the wall beside his head–and then slammed his fist there, smashing the rock beneath. Cullen flinched hard and Leviathan scoffed, his lips against his throat.
“You’re so afraid.” He whispered against his skin. “But you keep running your mouth. Testing me.” He smiled and Cullen sucked in a breath as his teeth scraped his neck. “Not a very smart game, Cullen.”
He swallowed hard. “Maybe I’m just trying to make you slit my throat and get it over with.” Fuck, he didn’t want to die. Not really. But he kept thinking about the way he had bit into Walker without a thought. If he got out of this place somehow and he went back….he’d put them all in danger, wouldn’t he? Better to die now, alone in this awful palace, his body left for Leviathan to do whatever he pleased with it…
“Not going to happen.” His hand slid up into his hair and pulled hard. Cullen gasped and then clamped his mouth shut, refusing to acknowledge the little bolt of pleasure that shot through him at the roughness. A bodily reaction, he was sure. Nothing more. “I wouldn’t damage my new toy.” He pressed a gentle kiss to his throat–and then let go of him, stepping away. Cullen remained against the wall, his chest rising and falling too fast.
Adrenaline, he told himself. Just adrenaline.
“Show me the rest of this damn place so I can go back to myroom and plot ways to kill you.” A dumb, pointless lie. There would be no way to kill Leviathan. Not here. Maybe not anywhere.
Leviathan laughed, a surprised, joyous sound. And then he turned and began to move down the hallway again.
“Big as this place is,” Leviathan murmured as they walked. “There’s only a few rooms. All meant for enjoyment, of course.” He threw him a meaningful smile. Cullen slid his gaze away without a word, ignoring him.
“The kitchen.” Shadows burst up around them with the word; Cullen barely had time to gasp before they had been swallowed whole–and spit back out again in a room full of servants that knelt instantly on a filthy floor, the counters all around the hot room overflowing with half made meals, a roaring fire in a stone oven across the room. He frowned down at the bowing servants, but Leviathan had already pulled up more shadows.
When the darkness cleared this time, they were standing in a surprisingly small dining room, one short glass table between two ornate wooden chairs. Cullen thought of the “meals” that had been brought to his room each day(an unnerving assortment of hands, arms, thighs and once–eyeballs)and shuddered in revulsion at the image of what Leviathan might eat in this room.
“I would like for you to join me here for dinner tonight, Cullen.” Leviathan murmured. Cullen gave no response and seconds later the shadows took them again.
“The library.” Leviathan announced this time when the shadows dumped them just outside of a new door in a different hallway. His eyes widened in surprise at the word,but the other man only smiled and pushed the new door open, this one much taller and wider than the others, as if it were meant for some kind of giant.
Cullen followed him shakily into the room and sucked in a startled breath at the sight of the books.
There must have been thousands of them. Thousands lining the ridiculously tall walls, a winding staircase that led up to a second level… Shelf after shelf. Books and scrolls that looked hundreds of years old. Some looked newer. Much newer. His eyes narrowed on one of the shelves closest to him; he found himself moving towards it almost magnetically as his eyes scanned the familiar titles on the spines. They looked well-loved. And familiar.
“Are these…”
“Yes.” Leviathan sounded proud of himself again. “I took your books from home. To give you a little more comfort…an easier transition.” Cullen heard him shift behind him, but he did not turn around, his fingertip running slowly across the spines.
A small part of him felt a little grateful for this. And for the clothes. His clothes, he knew now. But…it was Leviathan’s fault he wasn’t at home anyway. It was his fault there was even a transition happening. And these things being here…all it meant was that his stay would be long. He wouldn’t get away, even if he could figure out how to escape. Leviathan would come after him.
And where would he go if he could run? Leviathan could hear his heartbeat and follow his scent…he could probably find him anywhere.
His hand dropped slowly away from the shelf, but he still did not turn to look at him.
