Currency in Flesh

Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

T his time, when the walls of my chamber fell away, it was not to the sight of a cloudy, orange-tinged day. Instead, I stepped into a brilliant meadow filled with softly waving grasses—bright and cheery flowers dotting the green landscape. Above us, a wide, pale sky stretched as far as I could see. There was no visible sun, but the light shone warm upon my skin and I breathed in the scent of fresh air.

I let my eyes drift closed, relishing in the illusory sensation of sunshine on my cheeks. Lady Cora didn’t interrupt—instead, opting to remain beside me in silence. When I finally faced her, she was holding a white narcissus with a tiny golden center, twirling the stem between her fingers to make the blossom spin. With the gentlest of touches, she tucked the flower within a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

“This is the meadows,” she said without breaking eye contact. I blinked slowly, wondering which of us would look away first.

“I thought most people ended up here,” I replied. “It seems like we’re the only people here. ”

She took another step towards me and as the breeze lifted her nearly white hair to swirl around us like gossamer, my weight shifted to my toes. She smelled like sin—luscious ripe fruit, smoke and cinders. It made my mouth water before shame turned the taste sour on my tongue. The tips of my ears grew hot, and I took a hurried step backward, putting some distance between us.

Lady Cora pulled her lip between her teeth. “The meadows are much more than this one stretch of land. I like to bring people here, to this one, when they arrive.”

“Do you greet everyone? That seems like a lot. Aren’t people dying all the time?”

Huffing out a small breath from her nose, she gave me a smile that might have been condescending. “Over a hundred people every minute. I very rarely interact with any of them. The brothers handle the transition between life and death. You met Charis at Pluto. From time to time you may encounter Christos and Cyril, but none of them are any fun. Cyril, especially.”

She began to walk into the meadow, the stalks of grass seeming to part before her with each step. Beneath the hem of her perfectly tailored black pants, her feet were bare, and it was such an odd, human thing to see that I stood unmoving for too long. When at last she turned to see if I followed, my breath caught in my chest. The harsh, predatory lines of her face softened into something that could almost be mistaken for vulnerability.

But I knew the truth. She was venom disguised beneath the guise of beauty. Regardless of my body’s insistence on ignoring this fact, I wouldn’t allow my mind to do the same.

I caught up with her, keeping the distance between us at an arm’s length. “So who do you bring here?” I asked. “If you rarely greet the dead, what makes you choose to sometimes?”

“Each soul who passes through the river contributes to its waters. The power contained in a soul returns to the current. In certain circumstances, I can feel the state of a soul, and occasionally I choose to greet them myself rather than sending Christos or Charis.”

“Why?”

The warmth in her eyes froze over in an instant, leaving nothing but icy, razor-sharp cruelty. “Because there are women who cannot bear to look upon the face of a man ever again—even those as innocuous as the brothers. Those women deserve to feel safety in death, if never in life.”

I could taste the phantom iron tang of blood in my mouth. I knew that though Sean had been needlessly cruel and I deserved none of what he did to me, there were women who endured worse. And Lady Cora had to handle the souls of all of them—not just the women who had been broken, but the people who had done the breaking.

I thought of my reaction to seeing her torture that man. I had felt disgust, pity, I had questioned why anyone would be worthy of such torment. There was no doubt in my mind there had been souls far worse than his, and Lady Cora would have to know of each and every one. What sort of weight would that burden yield? Was it any wonder that she seized the opportunity to take me before I washed up on the river’s shores? Perhaps I was her way of ensuring that at least one, solitary soul was able to seek their own sort of justice.

Without replying, I continued to walk into the warm meadow. The air smelled like spring and it reminded me of my childhood. If I had no knowledge of this place, I’d have thought it a scene born from the dreams of an impressionist artist.

“Come,” Lady Cora said, voice firm. “There is much to see yet.”

She parted the air with a graceful hand, pushing aside the entire image as though it were little more than a painted curtain. It made me queasy, and I wished she would stop doing it. I didn’t know if she was actively unaware of how disorienting it was or if she was so accustomed to manipulating the reality here that she didn’t even realize it. I gulped down the thin saliva that filled my mouth and followed her through the opening.

Beyond the springtime meadow lay what appeared to be a simple little town. People milled about an orderly block of businesses and homes. The walls were a pleasant, uniform cream color with awnings and window frames painted a soothing shade of lavender. Everyone was dressed in a similar fashion, simple pants, shirts and some dresses, with bare feet. The smells of civilization were entirely absent, the air instead filled with that same fresh scent of grass and fragrant blooms. It looked… fine. It looked boring.

Lady Cora’s low chuckle interrupted my assessment. I shot her an irritated glance, but her amused smirk didn’t falter. “As I said, the meadows are a place of pleasant, mundane existence. The people here do what they wish. They are free to indulge any whims they may have, and they want for nothing.”

“That sounds really nice, actually,” I replied. “This is for the regular people? What happens in the isles?”

“If you were to imagine paradise, would it involve going to a grocer and laundering your clothing?”

I shrugged. “Good point.”

“In the isles, the reward is different for everyone, but the primary factor is those individuals spend what they see of eternity blissfully happy rather than content. They tend to make their peace and opt to say goodbye to existence rather than remain forever.” My face must have mirrored my thoughts, because Lady Cora continued. “Those who inhabit the isles find satisfaction. True, complete satisfaction—and at that point, they no longer long for anything. This is why so few people end up there. Humans are so rarely satisfied, they always want more.”

I saw Sean in her words. He was never happy with what he had. When he made his first million, he immediately began to scheme ways to make more. When his company was named in the Fortune 500, he met with advisors to determine the best ways to maximize his profit margins. Hundreds of loyal employees were laid off so he could outsource labor for even less than the poverty-level wages he had paid. He had mistresses in every major city, despite having a wife at home. I could never have been enough for him, and neither could anyone or anything else.

Lost in thought, I didn’t notice the woman who approached us until she reached out to hand me a piece of fruit. Her hair was a stunning red, ringlets and waves all mixed up together to frame her pretty face in the shades of a sunset. “Oh!” I exclaimed, surprised these people had noticed us at all. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said with a sweet smile. Her nose was small and upturned, scattered with honey-colored freckles. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen. “We are happy to have you! My name is Anna, I work in the orchards. What’s your name?”

My eyes flit back and forth between Lady Cora and the girl, confused. Did she think I was a new arrival to the meadows? “Hi, uh, I’m Grace. It’s nice to meet you, Anna.” I rolled the heavy fruit between my hands, noticing for the first time that it was a large pomegranate. It felt warm against my palms, like it had just been plucked from the tree, and I wondered what I was supposed to do with it.

Anna let out a little gasp, seeming to see Lady Cora for the first time. She dropped to a knee before us. “Blessings, Divine Mother.”

Lady Cora stepped closer, sliding her arm around my waist and resting her splayed fingers over my stomach. The logical part of my mind urged me to pull away, an instinct like one of a child whose hand had touched the stove. The other part of my mind thought about how those fingers had felt between my thighs, the taste of her inhuman tongue when it forced its way into my throat. I clutched the pomegranate, torn between a need to flee and an overwhelming desire to touch her.

“Please, rise,” she commanded. As Anna got to her feet, Lady Cora’s lips pressed against my neck and I had the feeling she was marking me as her possession.

Anna, apparently shared that thought, dropping her sky-blue eyes to the floor rather than meeting mine again.

“Grace is my guest,” Lady Cora said in a tone that implied much more than she had stated. “I wanted to give her a tour of the Underworld, let her see the meadows and their inhabitants.”

Without raising her eyes, Anna replied. “It is a great honor to meet you, your lady Grace?—”

“It’s just Grace,” I interrupted, but Lady Cora’s hand tightened around my waist, pulling me against her so firmly that I could feel her sharp pelvic bone pressing my ass.

“Thank you, Anna,” she said in dismissal. “Grace may visit again, please do not hesitate to make her feel welcome.”

The girl’s head dropped in another bow. “I will treat her with infinite care.” And she walked backwards a few paces before turning and disappearing back into the people of the city.

“Why did you do that?” I asked. She hadn’t let go of me, and even through the corset I imagined I could feel the heat of her hand. My fingertips moved over the skin of the pomegranate, memorizing its texture.

Her words ruffled my hair. “Do you wish for them to mistake you for one of them?”

“I don’t see why it would matter. ”

She used her free hand to trace the line of my jaw and the sensation made me dizzy with a confusing amalgam of arousal and annoyance. She knew what she was doing, and I was certain she had not forgotten the feeling of me, slick on her fingers. I wished I could push her off and walk away, but between fear and desire, I was stuck still in her close proximity.

“You are my pet, darling. Those in the meadows are accustomed to being provided with anything they wish. I can assure you many, many of them wish for something just like you.”

I scoffed. “If they can have anything they want, I’m sure they’d ask for a woman who looks like you long before they settled for me.”

Lady Cora’s fingers flew from my stomach to my throat, spinning me around to face her with unflinching demand. Her eyes bore into mine, their slightly elongated pupils narrowing in the light. The breath stilled in my chest and all I could do was stare right back. There was a challenge in my eyes, daring her to assert her power over me again. I wanted her to. My body responded to her grip on my throat—heat pooling between my thighs where they grew slick against each other. I felt my short fingernails break through the flesh of the fruit in my hands, juice the color of blood dripping to the ground between my feet.

“Look me in the eye and say that again,” she growled.

I bit the inside of my lip, refusing to reply. She didn’t get to embarrass me. The only person who could make me feel like that was myself. She tightened her hand, cutting off my breath almost entirely. My lips parted, and I tried to steal what little air I could. In an instant, the meadow fell away. Instead of the cheery little town, I stood in a dimly lit room with a black marble floor. It was warm, and I thought I could smell the vaguely familiar mineral scent of a hot spring nearby. Behind Lady Cora was a sprawling round bed with what looked like slept-in black velvet sheets. In the matter of seconds it took me to scan the room, I came dangerously close to passing out. My vision went dark at the edges, the room closing in like the conclusion of a silent-era film.

My knees buckled and Lady Cora let me collapse, landing before her with my palms pressed to the tile. The pomegranate had split in two when it fell, its crimson juice splattered across her bare feet. Whether it was anger or indignity, the feeling that curled through my hands and heated my face prevented me from looking up at her. I looked like a penitent worshiper, I hated it.

But deep, deep down, buried beneath all my independence and self assuredness, something else began to unfurl.

“Lick them clean,” Lady Cora ordered, voice cold.

Without looking up, I replied. “What?”

Her right foot stepped directly between my hands. Thin rivulets and freckle-small specks of pomegranate juice spread across her pale, unblemished skin. “I said, lick them clean.”

My eyes filled with tears. White-hot shame coursing through me with such strength it turned my stomach. She couldn’t mean it, couldn’t really intend for me to debase myself like that. I felt my arms begin to quiver, my entire body shivering despite the balmy air in this chamber.

“Do not try my patience, pet,” Lady Cora said. When I still failed to move, she bent just enough to push her pointed nails through my hair, grabbing a thick handful of the soft brown strands. She forced my head down until my nose pressed against her cool flesh. “Lick.”

The tears spilled over. My humiliation was palpable—rolling down my cheeks in hot lines. Her fingers twisted, pulling my hair more firmly as she ground my mouth against the fine bones of her foot.

I licked.

Once I had begun, whatever dignity remained within me shattered and I shed the hesitation and shame—exchanging it instead for an odd sense of calm. All the weight of my own emotion lifted from my shoulders. I felt like in this moment I had found a purpose, even one so insignificant as cleaning smears of pomegranate juice from the feet of a deity. She released my hair, smoothing it back down with a gentle touch. “Good,” she said in a near-whisper.

When I looked up at her, my tongue was still gliding across her now spotless skin. Her eyes seemed to glow with fire, and I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination. She bent to pick up one of the pomegranate halves, the red arils inside looking like garnets nestled in her palm. She plucked one tiny glistening seed from the fruit and held it out to me between her nails. Lifting my chin from the floor, I stuck out my tongue and held it there without breaking her gaze, and she placed the little gem in its center.

A muffled sound of pleasure escaped me when I closed my mouth and allowed the seed to burst between my teeth. It was sweet and juicy. It tasted like wine and I felt drunk on the flood of sensation. My eyes had shut at some point, and I opened them to find Lady Cora looking down at me with quickened breaths and clenched hands. She struck like a viper—pulling me roughly to my feet by my wrist and shoving me toward the bed. I tumbled backwards into the twisted velvet sheets and she followed, crawling over me and pinning me to the bed with her body.

I didn’t know what was wrong with me, couldn’t explain why I felt like this, but fuck, I had never been more desperate in my life.