Currency in Flesh

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

U nlike before, when we walked down the tidy paved walkway, Lady Cora led me down what felt like an endless flight of stairs. With each descending step it felt warmer and drier. By the time we reached the bottom, my skin felt stretched taut and the faint breeze felt like opening an oven. As blistering air blew over my face I struggled to see my surroundings. This space was dark, lit only by a line of wall-mounted candles which stretched down as far as I could see. I passed Lady Cora, striding to the center of the space and running my hand over an open wooden frame. It was taller than me by a couple feet, the faint flicker of candlelight glinting off metal rings nestled in its corners.

The silence was unnerving. I hadn’t realized how much ambient noise existed in the other parts of the Underworld until it was gone. Down here, it was like a tomb.

“I thought you said we were coming to see my—” I sucked in a shaky breath. “To see Sean.” I looked back over my shoulder to where she stood.

“I thought perhaps you would appreciate time and space to think about things first,” she replied. “And he is otherwise indisposed at the moment, anyway.”

My forehead crinkled. “Time to think about what? I know what kind of man Sean is. What is there to think about?”

The rhythmic sound of her steps was like a ticking clock, counting down to some unknown detonation. She stood near enough to touch and my weight drifted to the balls of my feet before I had noticed my own movement. Her eyes bore into mine with a gravity I didn’t like, but she didn’t find whatever she was looking for—swiveling to gesture toward a plain black cabinet I hadn’t noticed against the wall.

“What’s that?” I asked. My skin pebbled as every hair on my arms stood on end. I used to enjoy horror films—the weightless-stomach feeling when the music hit a sharp note and you knew something terrible was about to occur. But now, facing it in real time, I wanted to throw up. Maybe she was right. Did I want to do this? Want to see him? What was I even planning to do?

My hands shook slightly, and I couldn’t bring myself to move toward the ordinary, utilitarian cabinet. Dread threatened to drown me, filling my lungs with black, tarry fear of the unknown. Fear of what lay within a seemingly innocuous cabinet. I flinched when Lady Cora touched me. It wasn’t a touch of comfort or encouragement. It was the cautious way you placed a hand on the back of a horse as you walked behind it, like I might lash out at anything in my vicinity. I was a startled beast.

“You are not ready to be here,” she said. There was no question in her words. She raised a hand to pull aside the fabric of reality. My eyes never left the cabinet.

The room I had begun to think of as “mine” came into focus all around us. Books still lie strewn haphazardly across the small table, the bed was still unmade. I was suddenly exhausted. I imagined crawling into it and pulling the plush comforter up over my head like a child. But I didn’t know what Lady Cora intended, why she was even still here.

My fingers found the laces of the corset at my back, tugging them free and exhaling with relief when my stomach wasn’t tightly bound anymore. The dress I wore wasn’t uncomfortable, but all I wanted was sweatpants. Laughter bubbled up my throat in a nearly manic burst. Once it had begun, I couldn’t stop—the thought of wearing sweatpants in the presence of Lady Cora seemed so preposterous, and realizing how bizarre everything had become shattered the fragile hold I had on my sanity.

My laughter turned to tears, and I buried my face in my hands, hiding behind the dark curtain of my hair. By the time I lifted my head, Lady Cora was gone.

I awoke to the sound of someone in my room, nearly falling out of the bed in my frantic struggle to get to my feet. Anna looked up with an amused smirk, arranging a pile of fruit in a bowl atop the table. The books had been stacked neatly, and now there was a simple table with two Danish modern dining chairs a few paces from my bed.

“Jesus,” I breathed, pushing my hair back and wrapping the comforter around my apparently naked body. “What are you doing here?”

She giggled, and it was such a sweet sound, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness remembering that Anna was dead. “Charis summoned me. He told me to bring you some fruit and… How did he say it? Social stimulation.” She laughed again. “I think he meant I should hang out with you. My name is Anna.”

“What?” My eyes felt sandy, closing as I shook my head in confusion. “I don’t exactly know what that means, but you’re obviously welcome. I wasn’t expecting guests—” my eyes flicked down to my blanket toga. “I don’t even know where any clothes are. And I know your name, Anna. We met yesterday.”

Anna bustled through the room like she’d been here a million times, crossing to a wardrobe that hadn’t been there the night before. “If it’s anything like the meadows—things sorta just appear when you need them. It’s weird, and it is an adjustment for sure.” She didn’t say anything about us having met. The doors swung open, and we both looked inside expectantly.

There seemed to be a small assortment of casual attire and a row of more upscale dresses, blouses, and pants hung from felt-lined wooden hangers. Everything was dark—black, plum, deep teal. Anna pushed the hangers to one side, and I stifled a laugh when I saw a single pair of pink sweatpants folded neatly beneath a plain white tee. “Can she actually read my thoughts?” I mused aloud, not really intending for Anna to answer.

There was both reverence and fear gilding her words when she answered. “She can do anything down here. She’s the Goddess of the dead.”

I scoffed, but… She wasn’t wrong. I had seen her do countless impossible things. Maybe something in my mind was broken, that I had been so quick to accept this as reality. I hadn’t considered her words fully when I’d asked what she was. I wasn’t sure what answer I was looking for, but was there really any other definition?

Reaching past Anna, I grabbed the sweats and pulled them on under the blanket. Later, I would play the role Lady Cora had clearly cast me in, but I wanted to be comfortable. I turned my back to Anna when I tugged the shirt over my head, the memory of fire in Lady Cora’s eyes filling my thoughts and making me think she might not like someone else seeing my naked body.

I stilled .

No.

She kept calling me her pet and treating me like property, but I wasn’t her lover. What dominion did she have over what I did with my body? I’d spent the last ten years as someone’s possession, and I didn’t want to feel that way now. Sean’s anger when another man looked at me, though completely in opposition to his obvious hatred, filled me with anxiety for a decade. I lived in a near-constant fear of upsetting him, of having him think I was “asking for attention” or looking at another man. If this was some sort of twisted second chance where I learned how to stand up for myself or whatever, couldn’t it start here? I looked down, realizing the thin tee didn’t fully hide my nipples, but ignored the voice in my head that whispered to change. Instead, I plastered a smile on my face and turned back to Anna, deciding not to press her any further about yesterday.

“What is there to do down here?”

We figured out immediately that I wasn’t able to leave the room. We found a deck of cards and I taught her to play Kings in the Corner, but I found myself growing bored after a few rounds. I didn’t want to sit in a room and play cards with a teenager. She was sweet, but young enough to have been my child. The thought gave me a sick feeling in my gut. Years ago, I had accepted that Sean and I wouldn’t have kids. But since I’d come to the Underworld, I’d been aware of my complicated feelings about it.

We finished our game, and I stood, stretching my back. “Thanks for coming to see me today,” I said to Anna. “It was nice to talk to a normal person for a little while.”

She beamed in response. “I’m glad! Maybe Charis or Christos will bring me up here again sometime. You’re always welcome to visit. I’d be happy to show you the orchard sometime.”

“That would be cool. I’ve never been to an orchard.” Anna was young, but astute enough to know I was ending her visit. She stepped forward like she was thinking of hugging me, but a flicker of trepidation crossed her face and she just smiled and gave an awkward little wave. When she stepped through the wall, I lifted a hand to see if it would pass through as well, but all I felt was hard stone. With a sigh, I sat back in one of the chairs.

“I should take Charis’s mouth for that.” Lady Cora’s voice came from behind me and I jumped. When she stepped into view, I glared at her.

“That’s the second time today someone has just appeared in here and scared the living shit out of me,” I snapped.

“An amusing choice of words for someone far removed from living,” she replied. “I neither sent for, nor approved of a visitor. Charis apparently took it upon himself to decide you needed company.” She ran her thumb over each of her freshly lacquered nails, now a matte black.

“How did he even know I was here?” I asked. “I haven’t seen anyone other than you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Charis brought you here, if you recall. He knows of each and every soul that enters the Underworld. However, you are, of course, a somewhat special case.”

Thinking of the bearded man from the bar seeing me in that condition made me uncomfortable, but it was a kind thing to consider that I might be lonely. “It was a nice thought,” I said with a shrug.

“And how was your visit?” With each word, Lady Cora moved closer to me, until she stood only inches away, looking down with an unreadable expression.

“Fine, we played cards. She’s very young, and there are only so many things I have to talk about with a teenager. She didn’t remember meeting me.”

“Do you find her attractive?” she asked.

“What?” my lip curled in indignation. “She’s a child.”

Lady Cora’s hand made a dismissive gesture. “She has been dead for twenty years, and did not enter my realm as a maiden.”

“That makes no difference. She is a child regardless.”

I could have sworn there was satisfaction in her answering smirk. “Very well.” Her eyes moved down my body, snagging on my chest for a moment before taking in the baby-pink color of my baggy sweatpants. “You appear to be… comfortable.”

I crossed my arms, suddenly very aware of the flimsy, transparent fabric covering my chest. “I am.”

“I wanted you to know, I have not yet visited your husband.” The words caught me off-guard. She had said he was indisposed, which I assumed meant she had already begun… Whatever she was going to do to him. I didn’t respond, waiting for her to continue.

Instead, she reached down and closed her fingers tightly around my wrist, pulling me to my feet. She was significantly taller than me, and from this angle her cheekbones looked sharp and severe. The faint glow of her chartreuse eyes highlighted the straight line of her nose, the perfect dip of her cupid’s bow. I knew I had stared at her lips for too long, but I didn’t bother trying to hide it. She lowered her face towards mine, and I held my breath. I hadn’t yet figured out exactly what she wanted from me, or what I would give if she asked—but my body moved independently of my mind, wanting the taste of her on my tongue once again.

Her mouth brushed mine, but I remained entirely still. She spoke against my lips and it was torture. “I will not deny you the opportunity to demand your pound of flesh. No one will lay a finger on him until you give permission.”

“Why?” I asked, every ounce of my self-control straining against my irrational desire to offer myself to her completely.

I felt the sharp prick of her nails along my jaw, running down my throat. A tiny noise escaped the stretched-thin threads holding me back. I felt her mouth tip up into a smile, knew my whimper had not escaped her notice.

“He stole your strength with his fists and his cock.” I winced, and her fingers tightened. “He took things from you that you never consented to give. Every minute of life you spent in his shadow, in fear of him, is a minute he deserves to feel the same. Do you not wish to see the same fear in his eyes?”

“Doesn’t peace lie in forgiveness?” my voice came out a whisper.

Lady Cora laughed, the sound wicked and cold. “Oh, darling, what makes you think I want peace? I do not wish for you to feel content, I wish for you to feel vindicated. I want you to know the pleasure that comes with power. I want to see dominance light your eyes just before I snuff it out with your submission.”

She grabbed me by the hair, yanking my face back to hers and biting my lip so hard I tasted blood. She groaned as it coated her tongue, and she kissed me fiercely—forcing my mouth to accept her. I melted beneath her demands, submitting to her with a fluttering whine. Her other hand slid between my thighs, cupping my softly cushioned pussy and grinding the heel of her palm against my clit. I whimpered, pressing my thighs together to try and bring her closer—knowing she could feel through the fleece just how wet I was for her, how much I wanted it. She tightened her hand in my hair and I heard strands begin to tear with the force of her grip. Tears sprang to my eyes, but the pain only added to the torrent of heat and arousal pooling in my core. It began to build, shooting up my spine, and I knew I was on the precipice of climax. A genuine moan tore from my chest, vibrating against her tongue and urging her onward. I wanted her to tear the clothes from my skin, throw me to the floor, use me, claim me, take me however she wanted. And just as I felt the muscles of my stomach begin to tighten and tense with orgasm, she yanked her hand away, pulled her mouth from mine and slapped me across the face.

I should have felt revulsion, remembered Sean’s broad palm knocking me to my knees. I should have been enraged and disgusted. But instead, I cried out with a ragged sob—the sharp sting of her hand and the promise of climax faded from my limbs, twisting together into an ugly, shameful pain. She pulled my head back, forcing me to look at her as tears streamed down my flushed cheeks. “Sweet blossom,” she murmured, lips swollen and red from the violence of her kiss. “You will not be ready for me until you are ready to deal with him.”