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I sigh loudly and run my hand through my hair. “I don’t know how I can even decide. I don’t remember anything.”
“Give me a chance tonight to show you,” Iyano whispers as he comes toward me, his hand outstretching for mine. “Let me remind you of our world and our love together. And if you are still not sure then I will return for you on the solstice. And then again on the fire festival. I will keep returning for you.”
I squint up at him, surprised. “You would wait—just like that?”
He made a sound of pain deep in his chest. “My love, I’ve waited five hundred of your years for you, I can assuredly wait however long you require. And I will come to your dreams every night that you invite me even when I’m unable to bring you here with me. Even if it takes a whole human lifetime. I will always wait for you.”
I draw a deep breath and nod to myself, and down the contents of my goblet to fortify my nerves. This feels right but a little liquid courage couldn’t hurt. It certainly goes to my head a little and a flush of pleasure fills me as I smile faintly at him.
“All right. Let’s do this.”
Grinning back at me, he carefully wraps his hand around the one holding my goblet and takes it from me to set it on the table. My hand is still captured in his and he lifts it to his lips to press a hot kiss to the back of it and then to my palm. I can feel my pulse beating a frantic rhythm beneath his fingertips over my wrist and he smiles against my palm before lifting his head.
“Relax, my love. We have all night and an entire lifetime if needs be. Just let me love you.”
I can do little other than nod as my hypothetical demon husband draws me from the cozy little room into a large estate just outside its door. One that I would never have imagined was there. It is at this moment I know with complete certainty that it’s not just an illusion placed over my living room. I’ve truly stepped into another world—one that I find I desperately want to remember.
There is still the uncertain voice in the back of my mind that says that this could all still be an elaborate lie—he’s a demon after all, and yet it just feels right. And I know I must take this chance or else I will always wonder and regret it. So, it is with this in mind that I take my first step into his world at his side.
Chapter 8
The main entryway is gorgeous and gilded in gold with skeletal images gracefully adorning the walls in solemn and festive processions. Many of them are crowned with flowers and have some sort of musical instrument, and a number of them are robed spectacularly. There is something so graceful and elegant about the composition of the images that it doesn’t look like any kind of spooky season décor, but like they belong there in all of their dark beauty and finery. It teases a memory of ghostly processions and the soft laments and joyous songs of the dead. The image that rises to my mind is a brief one but is enough to bring tears to my eyes that I hastily blink back. I must admit that the detail is eye-catching, and I admire it as we pass through the room and out the entrance door into a large courtyard where a ghostly horse waits, decked in crimson finery.
I stare at the horse in fascination as we come near. It’s incredible! It’s as if the horse’s body is a shiny clear veneer or as if it is made of some sort of sculpted essence beneath which the bones of the horse can be clearly seen, marking it as quite dead. It turns its head toward us and snorts as Iyano reaches up and pats the neck. Amazingly his hand doesn’t go right through to the bone, and I find myself hesitantly reaching for it as well, curious. The demon grins and moves his hand away to grab mine and lays it flat against the horse’s neck. The sense of something skin-like but not quite quivers beneath my fingertips. There is a coolness to its touch, but beneath that is a hint of warmth that makes me want to flatten myself against it in awe and just take in the entire experience.
There’s a sharp tug on the sleeve of my blouse and I look over, meeting the faintly glowing dark gaze of the horse as it continues to chew on my sleeve until Iyano chuckles and gives its head a hard shove.
“Varkoth, manners! She doesn’t remember you so you can at very least make a good impression.” He winces apologetically as he peers down at the mess made out of my sleeve. “Apologies, Cleovarana.” My jaw tightens a little at being called this name that I still don’t recognize, and he sighs upon noticing it. “My apologies... Cleo then, if you insist.”
I give him a jerky nod. “I do—thanks. Regardless of who I once was, I’ve been Cleo and just Cleo since I was born. Cleovarana sounds like someone a lot... I don’t know... fancier... that I am. I’m not some grand lady, Iyano.”
He gives me a searching look and nods. “This is something you would have once said to me as well.” His lips quirk. “You might find it amusing to know that you never cared much for your name though you insisted on using it as it was that which your mother gave you and tied to your power.” His head cocks thoughtfully. “Perhaps being born into a human form is a blessing in this manner as it has allowed you to connect with your power under a variation of your name that you wouldn’t have attempted before.”
“You all don’t have nicknames?” I ask, shocked at the idea.
His faint smile inches up higher. “No. Humans give us various names for expediency but in our cultures, it is unusual for a demon to go by another name or be addressed by a shortened form of their name. It is a matter of respect,” he adds with a tiny explanatory sweep of his hand. “It will take time to recall that being born into a human life over and over has caused some changes. Especially since that is the only life that you truly know. Varkoth will learn some patience, too,” he adds, dipping his head toward the horse. “He was excited to see you and assumed that you would have a treat hidden in your sleeve as you used to. Even though your overdress was made of much more durable material.” He narrows his eyes at his mount and the beast’s ears tip back as he lowers his head contritely.
