I glance over my shoulder, finding Archan’s gaze pinned on the cloaked figure. He flicks his eyes to mine, his lips twitching. Just when I think I have him figured out, he upturns my theories and shits on them.
“It has been many years since you graced us with your presence. I’m afraid the celebrations have already begun,” Gasden says.
Jed huffs a laugh. “Nice try, bro. The boss is back, and they want to honor your ungrateful ass. Just accept it.” He side eyes me. “At least you get to spend it with someone who won’t draw blood for fun.”
“Don’t be so sure,” I grumble as Archan pushes me forward.
“Your choice, Natia. Tonight I will be expected to lie with a woman. It can be you, or—”
I spin and push my finger at his chest. “Did you just threaten me with cheating?”
He grips my chin. “I will explain, but they will expect everyone here to spend the evening with someone. You can have me or another man. I don’t want that for you. Unless you are into the masochist thing more than I thought?” He raises a brow.
I study his face for the lie I’m hoping to find and sigh when it’s not there. “Why does it feel like Hell is conspiring to make me your sex toy?”
He chuckles as he leads me forward. The gang traipses after us as awareness tingles up my spine from the eyes tracking us hidden amongst the puffs of darkness wrapped around the tops of the trees. My stomach lurches as we walk across the clouds like they are solid objects. We follow Gasden until we enter a large circle of treetops. In the center suspended ten feet in the air is a wooden circular platform with huts surrounding it and several sets of steps, enabling us to reach it. Gasden starts to ascend them, Archan pushing me forwards to follow.
“There’s no human sacrifice or blood rituals?” I check.
Archan laughs. “Not today. They only do those on Saturdays.”
Lucifer snorts as we come to a stop on the wooden platform. It’s spinning at a snail’s pace.
“Welcome to Heresy,” Gasden hollers. Torches ignite around us, setting the area alight in a creepy glow. Magic glimmers on every surface, it’s drenched in power, causing my flesh to erupt in goosebumps.
“It’s Sunday, right?” I check. The gods around me laugh.
“Tonight we honor our deity, for he has graced us with his presence and has brought his newly found mate.”
My fists tighten as men and women drift onto the platform. My hand twitches for the trident. Archan grabs it and pries my fingers open before threading his hand with mine. “No need for violence, they are here to prepare for the festivities.”
“Festivities? Do they realize the apocalypse is banging on their front door?” I wonder.
“They do,” Lucifer replies. “But when your god appears before you, you don’t squander that time with talk of war. You honor his presence and hope that he will save you.”
“Can’t we just promise them we will try our best and skip the party?”
“Nope,” Jed says. “Archan’s little minions have rituals that are centuries old. They are steeped in religion and superstition. Starting a panic in a realm because their god wouldn’t pause to say hello isn’t worth the hassle.”
A group of women approach me, another splitting off to approach Marsha. They reach out and touch my arms. I pull them back and glare at them. Archan gives me a little push toward them. “They are here to get you cleaned up and ready for the party. Don’t hurt them.”
I glare at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? You said it wasn’t a sacrifice?”
“It’s not.”
I tilt my head. “They are here to tart me up and then deliver me into the hands of their god. Sounds like the very definition of a sacrifice to me.”
He strides towards me and grips my chin, tilting my head up to stare into his molten depths. “I have chosen you, but you have to choose me in return.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then expect the wolves to descend upon you, and for me to pick another to share my bed tonight. It is the way of the people, and neither you nor I will defile their rituals.”
I pull my face out of his hand and allow myself to be ushered away from the group. Marsha catches my eyes as we are pushed inside a hut. Two baths are sunken into the floor. I walk over and peer down. Their bottoms are clear, giving us an uninterrupted view of the forest below. Flowers and herbs float in the steaming water, the scent a delicious mix of sweet and earthy fragrance.
Four women surround the tubs and kneel. Two have solid bars of soap in their hands, the other two wait with large jugs of clear water.
“I can bathe myself,” I say as another woman reaches out for the trident. I slap her hand. “No.” She shrinks back. Ugh, intimidating the natives wasn’t my intention. I slide the trident out from my back, making the few women around us step back. I mime digging the trident under my throat and roll my eyes in the back of head, showing it will kill them.
