Divine Descent

Chapter Thirteen

Seconds, minutes pass, and neither of us utter a word, just staring at one another.

This time is unlike the others.

The location is the same reflective vision of outer space I'm used to... an in-between place, but now there are items set sparingly throughout, as far as my eyes can see. A chair here, a table there. Nothing important enough to stand out to me other than to confirm that this is a place where he dwells.

This man... this god.

His eyes are like the calm before the storm, the unbelievably tranquil center of a destructive force. They are as black as the clothes he wears, body stiff with authority. They are etched in a strong face, near a straightly-bridged nose and notably thick brows. Surrounding the midnight depths are lashes dark enough to appear like liner, to project the wickedness within him onto whoever is within distance.

I am the only such person.

He unclasps his hands, placing his arms at his sides, which draws my eyes to his elegant wear, strange fabrics of the past. Satin and velvet, regal but not flamboyant. Almost every inch of him is concealed. Even his hands wear gloves.

He is what I'd expect a god would look like, if the god were a deliverer of sin and debauchery. Just looking at him, the handsome face that's not altogether young, I can see the mischief in his expression, which is currently appraising me just as closely.

A man in his middle years, his hair is jet back mostly, apart from streaks of white that are pushed back past his shoulders, streaks that only draw the danger from his features even more. There is nothing I can see on his exterior that garners me to think any good of him.

Considering what he just put me through, I know I will make it hard to see any good in him. Tellingly, he takes one step forward, clenching fists at his sides before quickly releasing the tension, a clear nervous tick I have no trouble spotting, even if I am disoriented.

"You cannot comprehend how impatient I've been for this day."

I rub at my face, still able to recall how numb I just was. "Considering you just tortured me to get me here, I think I can."

"You are a stubborn woman," he declares, smiling while he says it. "I truly wish I didn't need to resort to summoning, but it became clear you wouldn't come on your own accord, not with him so close."

"What the fuck was that anyway? What did you do to me?"

He stiffens further when I realize I can move freely here, and take a few steps towards him. "A god's equivalent of a psychic's attack. I paralyzed you with energy. Drained yours."

"I see," I whisper, flexing my fingers. "Well, thank you."

That catches him off guard. He's now close enough that he must gaze down at me, standing almost a half a foot above me. It's frightening, his height. "You'd thank me for that?"

"Yes."

My hand slams into his throat in a tight-vice grip, and the pleasantness falls from my face while my nails sink through his flesh. It shocks me to draw blood from him, the same onyx color as my own. However, instead of grimacing, his mouth begins to rise on one side, enjoying my rage. My eyes become distracted by the scar that covers half his face, sunken above his brow all the way down to his cheek, a soft healed shade now.

I lean close to him, hissing through my teeth. "I'll thank you for that because you just made it so easy to hate you. I bend to no man, human or god."

"I know that," he says. "You wouldn't anyways. I wouldn't desire a meek woman."

My nails drag across his flesh before I back off him, opening the skin in a vicious scratch. At that, he does grimace. Reaching into his jacket, he removes a folded handkerchief and pats away the blood calmly.