Amber Ingdom

Serpents of flame snake around my wrists, binding me to my burning throne. My naked skin prickles in the heat, sweat rolling down my back and between my spread thighs. The air is so hot every breath fills me my heaving lungs with steam, the rolling hills of the landscape waving in the distance.

Jagged rock dots the hellscape, writhing bodies and animals of brimstone slithering across the ground or wondering the expanse. The air is filled with a harmony of screaming and suffering, of crackling fire and growling of hounds. The sounds are everywhere, consuming my thoughts, twisting them as the snakes constrict further, my wrists bruising and bleeding under their care.

Then, like a fresh breath, the hand caresses my cheek. It's like my body cools- no heats to the touch, adjusting to the temperature of the air. I still my struggles but can't - won't look at the person whose hand moves down, down my neck to my bare breasts. They caress me, kneading the tender flesh. My core heats anyway, my slick adding the sweat beading the throne's polished, dark stone surface.

Hot breath fills my air and is quickly accompanied by a wet tongue, its slippery length exploring my ear. I whimper, straining away, even if my body responds further.

In the distance, I see bodies writhing. They wear faces I recognize but can't remember, everything before now so far away in my mind.

A strong hand grips me jaw, forcing my eyes up to meet a set of burning suns, set in a strong, proud face.

"I'll see you tonight."

Deep words echo as reality snaps me back. The familiar roof of my bedroom glows in the morning light coming from the open window. The dream is already fading, leaving behind bright and unrelenting images of what transpired last night. I roll over and pain shoots from just about every part of my body, followed by the pungent stench of blood and smoke. Yesterday was definitely not a dream.

Groaning, I stumble to my bathroom, grateful for the privacy of my studio apartment as I strip the pitiful strips of fabric that used to be my tank top away and collapse into the shower. The cold blast of water shocks and soothes me, my body too hot, too confused and so, so weak.

Shivering on the floor my memories play on loop, the warehouse, the alter, Besiris. In the light of day it's possible to chalk it all up to a delusion, that I was drugged, tripping. But my body screams and when I cough, black sludge drips from my lips.

I scrub every inch if my body, being especially gentle but thorough on my raw neither regions, and step out to greet my reflection in the floor-length mirror. My clean hair is natural reddish blonde, eyes the same rich brown in the vanity mirror. It's not as bad as I thought, my knees and right cheek rubbed red raw.

Slowly, I swallow and brace myself, turning to see my back and instantly freeze.

Black scars run along its entirety. Intricate sigils and writing in a language that looks ancient and truly alien to me. Tears well, seeing the true horror of what they did to me, remembering how they cut into me again and again me as I screamed and begged them to stop.

Then, Courtney's terrified face replaces mine and I fall to my knees. Covering my mouth with my hand, trying to swallow my cry, the memories flooding me. What have I done? No, I think, standing back up. I will my heart closed, my veins to iron. She deserved it. They all do. Sebastian got off too easy and Courtney, where ever she is now, paid for her part.

"It was Jack's idea!"

Her words spring back into my mind and I grit my teeth, they were all so friendly last night, I'd been so happy that they'd invited me out. That they'd given me a chance to become a part of their inner circle.

Did James know? I'm not sure.

I breathe deeply, composing myself. Jack huh? Good thing he's an easy target.

I turn to leave the bathroom but pause, at this angle I can see all of me, including the new red hand prints on each side of my hips.

Where a demon held onto me tight and fucked me into oblivion, all while I watched a woman burn to death.

I trace the outline of the marks, lining mine on top as best I can with the angle. His handprints dwarf mine and the marks are raised, welted. How did I not notice him do it? Courtney had screamed when I'd done the same to her. I apply burn cream to the marks, trying to get the image of me on my knees out of my head. What I had done in exchange for power...

No regret wells inside me, no shame. The thrill of it all tastes bitter on my tongue, like my body knows how unnatural it was to be with someone-something like him. Like I can't focus on that though, I need to get my strength back, mine, not his.

I walk from my bathroom, still naked, to my computer and order to my door every kind of food, vitamin and medication I can think of that may help. Then I scroll my email to find the invite that I was sent a few months ago and smile, as I know just where to find Jack tonight. Because it's the day of the dead.

-

Besiris arrives at sundown, lingering in the shadows a few minutes before he lets himself be known. I wonder if he knows that I can feel him there, some fragment of his power still living in me, sparking in his presence.

My strained eyes stay glued to the computer screen, the glossy surface showing a bright, smiling photo of the group of friends who conspired to kill me. Hours ago, I had logged into my acounts to see that messages had been sent from my iMessage account, ones I never sent. That same group of friends must have used my face to unlock my phone while I was unconscious, telling my family and work that I was going away for a few days. So I wouldn't be missed.

A vat of acid burns in my stomach, remembering those texts. I wonder how long it would have taken for people to realize I wasn't coming back. All the while I was dead, buried in some ditch while these assholes rolled in whatever 'gifts' they wanted.

I'll probably know soon enough what Jack was willing to trade my life for, when we see each other at the party tonight. It' a work/family event, VIP's and close friends only to celebrate the anniversary of the date the company, his fathers company, was founded.

I was James's plus one, though I wonder if he'll make an appearance as none of my text messages or calls to him have been returned.

Besiris's footsteps finally sound and, keeping my features as calm as possible, I turn to see someone I don't recognise. He's tall and broad as before, but human, kind of. His crystalline exterior has been replaced with mocha skin and black hair, short on the sides and curling on top. His eyes though, are far from human. They still burn as twin suns, the colour and crystal there spiderwebbing out.

"You've been busy." I say, not quite daring to make eye contact.

He lazily gestures to his form, a cocky grin stretched across his new mouth. "I picked it up today."

His voice, unearthly and silken feels out of place here, in the reality of my bedroom.

Swallowing the surge of heat that rises in me I say, "It's... handsome." Not quite the right word but that's fine.

Standing up, the fabric of my gold metallic dress shifts. It's favourite of mine, though I rarely get to wear it as its for special occasions. It's 'V' neckline dips between my breasts and the bodice hangs relaxed, both modest in stopping just below knee length, but daring, as it hugs every curve.

Besiris's eyes roam over me, seeing everything and fixating on my hips where his hand prints are branded, shielded beneath the dress's thin material.

Swallowing, I pull out the masks I'd been lucky enough to find in a local pawn shop. Well not masks per se, but a ram and sheep skull in excellent condition that didn't survive long under my creative touch. The backs have been removed and satin ties added, creating a garish masquerade ball mask. The invite stated that all attendees should come in costume. For once, I'm happy to oblige.

Besiris's human form comes with a perfectly fitted dress pants, shoes and silk button-down top, all in black, though several glittering amber rings decorate his hands. Such a striking figure, though I wonder how he 'picked it up' today. I choose not to think about that, about how this man...demon, maybe Demi God, was inside me in so many ways. About what he is, where he came from, and all the loaded questions that go with that.

His skin is unnaturally warm when our fingers brush, those burning eyes seeing through me as he takes the mask I pass him. I know he remembers how I look underneath this dress. What I feel like. What I taste like.... I shake away those thoughts, my core warming, God, what's wrong with me?

Thunder booms far in the distance, the summer storms common in this region beginning to swell, bringing sheets of hard rain and stiff winds with them.

I fasten my mask, steeling myself as the first spats of rain hit the glass. Despite my efforts today, my legs still wobble, my muscles ache and each of my heartbeats is weak and sluggish. I've done what I can to recover in the limited time I have and it will have to do. Jack won't be easy to get alone, if I was being cautious I would wait for another day or so but no, he doesn't get to tomorrow thinking he got away with what he did to me. I'll pin him to the conference room wall like a bug if I have to.

Bisiris extends his hand, looking like a God of death in his mask. The deep eye holes glow in his amber light, the large horns curling up and back. Yet I'm not scared, instead the spark in my chest pulls me forward, toward him and what ever happens next. There's no turning back, once we leave, the hunt is on and Jacks breaths are numbered.

I take Besiris's hand and he pulls me close, drawing me into his solid form and masculine scent of smoke and sin. I tell him where we're going and the world spins away.

-

Music, popular 20 years ago but fondly remembered now, mingles with the chatter of the mixed crowd.

People mingle, some in traditional day of the dead makeup, some like us in masks and costumes.

The decorated space isn't overly large but nice, large windows to our right show off the soaked city skyline from our perch halfway up the skyscraper where Jack's family's business operates. Candles dotted about with lanterns of all shapes and sizes, their glow is minimised by the glare of the over head lights.

Ugh, work social events like this are the worst, I think looking over the small sea of masked faces. The ever present anxiety of making forced small talk is so deep rooted inside me that it rises even now.

Which is ludicrous to think about right now given the circumstances.

Besiris's arm snakes around my waist while his eyes linger on the people around us who deservedly stare right back. How long has it been since he was in this world? I wonder, weaving through the crowd.

And where was he before coming here?

I feel the deity's eyes on the back of my neck as we weave through the thinning crowd. It's a curious sensation, the wave of energy pulsing off him, every time it washes over me I become more attuned to him and my prey alike. As if one breeds the other.

His arm stays iron around my waist the whole time, fingers making idle circles as we walk. I compress my heat at the touch, willing myself to concentrate.

Jacks blonde hair is usually a dead giveaway in a normal crowd but here, in a world where nepotism runs rampant, his features blend. He's here though, I know it as surely as if I could smell him and I might actually do so with his trademark cloud of axe body spray.

And just as I know that Jack's here, I know James isn't. Which doesn't surprise me, even if a small part of me hopes he wasn't involved with what happened last night.

A sharp cling slices the air.

All heads swivel to the raised Dias in the center of the room, Jacks father stands there, champagne glass and spoon in hand. And to his right, is Jack.

Jack's father, big surprise, is dressed like an old timey king, complete with a silly ornamental throne on top of the platform. My eyes could not roll harder than they are right now, this guy, rumour has it, is the most tyrannical boss they've ever had. Unforgiving, cruel, grinding workers into the ground and harassing his sectaries. According to James, he's quite the shithead of a father as well, not that ever stirred up any pity on my behalf for Jack, especially now.

Jack's pale flesh barely covered in a dark tribal robe, flowing from one shoulder to tie around his waist. On his fucking face, I almost can't believe it, he's wearing the same mask as he did at the ritual.

My blood pumps hot and fast, my fingers curling as if I had claws.

I wonder if he'll scream like Courtney.

My teeth bare, fists clenching until I feel the sharpness of my nails cutting into my palm. Just when I feel like I'm about to explode, a heated hand presses between my shoulder blades. It glides from my lower back all the way to my neck and back down again, the newly tattooed skin of my back shivering under Besiris's hot touch. Like turning down a gas stove, I feel my rage condense from an inferno down to a white hot pointed flame. More concentrated but attuned and no less deadly.

I breathe deeply and wait for my moment.

Jack's father begins a long-winded speech about the company and it's founding and the years of hard work, blah blah blah until finally, he pauses and turns to his son. "-And that is why, after 40 long years, I have decided to lay down my pen, pick up a fishing rod and retire." A collective wave of gasps ripple through the room, he turns to Jack, placing a kind hand on his shoulder. "Jack, my boy, I think I speak for all of us when I say that I'm proud of you." Jack removes his mask to hang around his neck, glowing at his father's words, his eyes shining. "While I had my doubts, I now see that you for the born leader you are, the trailblazer who lives by his own rules. And that is why I leave my seat of CEO to you, Son."

The gasps return full ball and shocked, low conversations break out. I share in their confusion, Jack is the CEO's third child and both his older siblings are successful and are already far up the company chain. The fact that their father would give his seat to his youngest, the entitled party boy? Pure insanity.

Why would he do that?

Oh, I realize. This is his prize, his reward for the ritual.

Technically had been complete with Besiris rising and Sebastian paying the final price in my stead. He wanted what he could have never gotten on his own, Daddy's approval and the family company. How stupidly stereotypical. These rich kids are boring.

I take a Champagne glass from a passing server and clap along gently with the others who are trying to put on a happy face for the young man who just inherited a fortune.

I scan the room and find Jacks's siblings near the stage, eyes wide in shock and rage, whispering to each other. They shouldn't worry though, one of them will get the crown soon enough, I think turning my gaze back to Jack who is shaking hands with his father. He looks out to the crowd, gazing over the clapping, confused crowd in absolute joy.

His eyes find mine and his smile fades, the sound of the crowd fading as terror fills his eyes.

Oh yeah, that's what I'm here for. Even with my mask, I know he recognizes me, and recognizes the creature behind me. I raise my glass, saluting him, and take a long draw.

Besiris leans close, hot breath tickling the shell of my ear.

"My power, once again, is yours for a price."

My breath hitches. Skin pricking and nipples hardening instantly under the silk of my gown. Memories of all kinds of delicious sins rush to the surface of my skin, desire warming low in my belly and violence cracking through my veins.

It would be wrong to say that there isn't a part of me that resists, remembering the rush, the heat, so easy to be lost in. Remembering what I am giving in return for that power and just who I am striking another deal with, a God-like creature I don't know anything about.

But right now, I'm too weak. Already, I recognize two of Jacks's friends in the crowd walking toward him, unaware of my presence.

My teeth knit together, I hate this. All of this. I hate asking for and needing help. But even I have to admit that if I can't do this myself. I look over to the demon on my shoulder, his face fully obscured by the ram skull mask and still I can tell that he knows my answer. Because he knows what I need to succeed I can't find on my own. 
"What are your terms this time, exactly?" I ask, meeting his eyes fully for the first time today.

He leans down and tells me his terms. I look away, trying to digest his request.

There's a shuffling of bodies and the music resumes, turning my attention back to Jack who's eagerly trying to get away from his father and toward his friends, talking and motioning in my direction. People are getting in his way though, trying to congratulate him and shake is hand.

I'll enjoy breaking his fingers.

I turn back to Besiris, who still dwarfs me even with my high heels, and move his mask aside, his handsome but borrowed face grinning down at me.

"Will you show me your true self again? Later?" I ask, remembering his true features. The crystal and fire of his true form.

His eyes shift, something glittering there I can't decipher. "As you wish." He responds.

"Then you have your deal," I say and I rise up, kissing him deeply. My nerves alight, the contact singing through me, instantly warming my core. His hand comes to fist in hair, crushing me to him. And just like that, I come alive.

Ancient energy pours into my body, flooding my bones, my muscles, my skin and soul. It's a sweet inhale that heals my weakness, giving me energy I didn't know I could have.

All too soon the kiss is over and Besiris takes a step back, an artist admiring his work. Even in this crowd, people wondering, mixing, dancing, it feels like its just the two of us.

I can't help but moan, feeling his energy pulsing through me, the veins in my arms glowing gently, my eyes probably glowing like last time. Bisiris runs a finger down my cheek, cupping my chin. "Have fun."

"Always."

He smiles and steps back into a veil of darkness, visible to me, not to others.

"Ok," I say, spinning to see Jack through the crowd, "time to kill some people."

He's shouting and pointing at me, trying to walk back through the crowd.

I debate my options, looking around. I was never one for crowds nor obsolete pop music.

I clap twice and the music cuts to silence.

People gasp looking around in confusion, some turning to me. "Take a nap," I command.

Like puppets with their strings cut they fall where they stand, unconscious, all but three. Jack's friends look familiar, so I keep them awake.

The three shout shout in surprise, eyes wide looking to the bodies strewn about, then up to me.

"My, my, Jack. Hell of a party, sorry to crash." My words echo in the dim room, the only light coming from the hordes of candles and lanterns decorating the tables and walls. I take off my mask, dropping it to the floor.

Jack's visibly shaking, eyes looking away from me to the limp body of his father, then back to me. He swallows, "James isn't here."

"I know, I'm here to see you." I smile, stepping to over the bodies of the partygoers, their limbs tangled.

Jack's friends immediately take a step away from him, branching out on either side of me. One reaches behind their jacket, a glint of silver shining there.

"Where's your friend?" Jack asks, trying to smooth a mask of confidence over his pointy face.

I make a knowing smirk, looking back to Bisiris who grins back from his perch in the shadows, then back to Jack. "He's around. You see, he likes to watch."

Jack forces a nervous laugh. "Jane, common, you can't really think I had anything to do with last night."