Golden Stair (4 page)

As per usual, her mother’s breakdown didn’t last long. She straightened her spine and gave Ivy her typical brave façade. “I wish I could stay, my darling, but the battle waits for no woman. I must go and try to end this war once and for all.” She stepped back and looked into Ivy’s eyes. “Are my things ready?”

“I’ll get them now, Mother.” Ivy’s movements were mechanical and well-practiced.
 
First, to the cupboard over the stove. She removed a few bottles of potions she’d prepared yesterday. Second, over to the large armoire against the wall to retrieve a leather satchel. On her way back to the potions over the stove, she picked up a small wooden box from the table beside the overstuffed armchair.

Her mother’s look was a physical weight on Ivy’s shoulders as she opened the wooden box and checked to make sure each crystal she’d harvested from the ceiling was still pulsing with spellbinding, iridescent gold light. Satisfied that she’d chosen only the best, Ivy closed the box and tucked it into the satchel. She wrapped each potion in a bit of cloth then set them in the satchel as well.

“Here, Mother,” she said softly, turning and walking over to where Dame Gothel stood by the balcony window.

Her mother took the satchel, but before Ivy could walk away, she snatched her arm. She tugged until Ivy tilted her face up to look at her and then took Ivy’s chin in her grip. “You see now why you must never leave this tower, don’t you?”

Ivy nodded numbly, exhausted. She was too tired to get into this subject with her mother again. It wouldn’t do any good anyway.

Her mother patted her on the head, then strode over to the wall. She shoved up a lever and a creaking sound overhead heralded the opening of a small section of the roof. Sunlight streamed in and she dragged the armchair from beside the fireplace to sit under the beam of sunlight.

“Here. Sit down after I leave and let the sunlight restore you.”

“Yes, Mother,” Ivy answered automatically, making her way to the window. She roped her hair over the iron hook and threw the rest of her braid down.

“I will see you tonight, my angel,” Dame Gothel said warmly, giving Ivy a kiss on the cheek then grasping her braid and sliding down the coil of hair to the ground.

Ivy stared out the window as her mother traversed the small valley. The mountains rose like majestic purple walls all around them, keeping the secret of their valley even if someone did manage to pass through Demeter’s gateway. The far side of the valley was a dark corner, protected by a thick curtain of hanging vines. Ivy propped her hand on her chin, watching as her mother vanished past the curtain of vines.

Normally she would stay at the window for awhile, staring out at the sky and the mountains, enjoying the sight of the sun dancing on the small lake beside her tower. Today she didn’t have the heart. The world just wasn’t as beautiful as she wanted it to be.

Ivy stumbled over and collapsed into the chair. She laid her head against the back cushion and closed her eyes. The sun’s rays seeped into her body, caressing the ocean of warmth that was always inside her. Delicious heat infused her muscles, weaving through each one until they gave up the pressure holding them in knots. Bit by bit, her energy would return.

Sleep was within reach, and then, a loud shout woke her up. She had only a second to register the shadow over her and leap out of the chair before there was a thundering crack, a loud yell, and a grunt of pain.

Ivy screamed as dust erupted in a giant cloud and the scent of blood filled the air.

“Fire and brimstone, that bloody hurt.”

Adonis gritted his teeth as he lay still and took a few careful breaths. Pain seized every muscle at once and it took considerable concentration to breathe through it. Especially after he lifted his head to look down his body and found a jagged piece of wood protruding from below his waist.

From this angle, it almost looked like he’d sprouted a second cock. Adonis started to chuckle, then immediately winced as the movement sent another searing pain through his stomach, burning a path from one side of his body to the other. Groaning at his rotten luck, Adonis forced himself to move very carefully, easing a hand under his body to feel for the piece of wood currently plunging into his back to extend out the flesh near his right hipbone.

Once he’d assured himself that the debris was a jagged piece of wood from whatever piece of furniture he’d smashed, and not something affixed to the floor, he gradually sat up, holding his breath, gingerly trying to avoid more damage than absolutely necessary. He grimaced as his flesh shifted around the foreign object. Gripping the piece of wood, he jerked it from his back, grunting and closing his eyes at the warm flow of his own blood pouring from the wounds.

It’s going to take all the energy I have to heal this,
he growled to himself.
When I find that will o’ wisp, I’m going to keep the miserable little firefly in a jar by my bed until its incessant light burns out.

The tiny fey hadn’t even had the decency to let him finish what he’d started with the angel. Sex in midair was complicated, but always a worthwhile pursuit. It had been a test not only of his seductive personality, but also his acrobatic skills—a combination that usually left Adonis in fine spirits for days after. And that bastard flea had ruined it.

Adonis smacked a hand against the floor, cursing to himself as he thought of the heavenly reward he’d been robbed of thanks to that miserable point of light distracting him at a vital moment. He’d lost his grip and free fallen from the winged maiden to land on the gods only knew what. The will o’ wisp had fluttered about him with merciless tenacity, disorienting him so he couldn’t focus enough to fly. It was just his luck that he’d been robbed of the sex that would have energized him just before finding himself in desperate need of said energy. He opened his eyes to glare down at the gaping hole in his body.

“Death to will o’ wisps,” he muttered. He pressed his lips together, eyeing the protrusion. “And death to sharp bits of wood, too.”

Cursing, Adonis put a hand on either side of his body, covering the wounds. He closed his eyes again and concentrated, spilling a trickle of his energy into his ruptured flesh. He had to shut out everything, all sights and sounds. If he was going to keep this body alive, he had to heal it enough to repair the organs and slow the blood flow, but not so much that he didn’t have the energy left to get home. He’d been counting on that angel for a healthy dose of energy, and his reserves were too low for complete healing of this magnitude. He couldn’t afford to use an ounce more than he had to, and that required concentration. Fortunately, contrary to popular belief, Adonis was more than capable of patience if he needed to be. He wasn’t always so easily distracted.

“Are you all right?”

The soft feminine voice jerked Adonis’ attention away from his wounds so fast that the room spun around him. He blinked furiously, trying to regain his bearings as the bloodloss ate at the edges of his vision. With supreme effort, he concentrated on the source of the voice.

Sunlight. For a moment, that’s all he could see. Golden sunlight in the vague shape of a woman standing in front of a large window. Adonis did a double take and he had to blink several times to clear his vision of the woman’s aura enough to see her physical form. It was unusual for someone’s aura to be so strong that he could see it without trying to use his astral sight, but this woman—whatever she was—was powerful. Ridiculously, wildly so.

When he could finally see her as others who lived on the earthly plane did, his spirits lifted even higher. She was beautiful. Her face was a smooth golden tan that one could be born with, but never attain. The sparkle he could almost imagine he saw in her flesh was complemented by the gold of her loose, off the shoulder robe, cinched around her waist with a braided scarlet cord that matched the shawl draped behind her back and over the crooks of her arms. Her eyes were a light brown that looked more gold, especially with her power flicking over the orbs like a pure brass rod of lightning. Golden hair braided away from her face fell over her shoulder and down…down…down…

Adonis blinked and leaned forward, trying to find where her braid ended. It was in a sort of pile, just to the side of the mess of sturdy moss-colored fabric, dark wood, and stuffing that he was going to guess had been a chair at some point. A tendril of unease licked up his spine as he realized the maiden must have been sitting in the chair just before he’d fallen on top of it. His eyes shot to the square of sky visible from the hatch in a prayer of thanks to the gods that she hadn’t been hurt.

Shoving those thoughts away, he dredged up a smile only slightly less bright than her brilliant, booming aura. With a flick of his astral senses, he let his energy surge through his body, healing himself to fighting trim and probably burning twice the energy in the process. Not that that would matter now. Not when there was a female watching him with such wonder in her eyes. He stood nonchalantly, bunching his muscles as he did so in a way he knew would show him to his best advantage. Of course, he was already naked, so that helped. A lot.

“Are you all right?” she repeated, wringing her hands.

“How could I be anything less than perfect in the face of beauty such as yours?” he said smoothly, staring deeply into her eyes.

The brown orbs widened slightly and he took a confident step forward. Her breath quickened as he trailed his gaze from the top of her golden hair, down her slender body and subtle curves, over legs longer than any dancer he’d known, and finally to the bare feet poking out just below her robes. He gave her a wink, delighted when her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. He inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of her into his senses—and froze.

Virgin
.

He took another deep breath, just to be sure. Yes, there it was. He could smell the blood just under her skin, scent the arousal he’d inspired in her with so little effort. There was no mistaking that delicious flavor, that pure, untouched ambrosia. He drank it in like a rare wine, nearly drunk just at the knowledge of what kind of energy waited for him in her arms…

“What is your name, fair lady?” His words were soft as he brushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Her soft skin felt so incredible, he couldn’t help but drag the backs of his fingers across her cheek. Blood rushed through his veins, flowing down to fill his flesh nearly to the point of pain. Gritting his teeth, he fought the urge to tear her robes from her body so he could drag his palms down the rest of her flesh, feel the silken decadence under his body as he pressed her into the bed. One hand rose to her hip, tightened as he entertained the insane idea of ravishing her right where they stood…

Her eyes drifted closed for a moment, breath hitched and she swayed back. The movement bared her throat to him as her arousal spiked and Adonis groaned under the sweet assault of her desire. It swamped his senses, reaching deep inside him to caress the well of his power. There was no energy more potent to an incubus than that of a virgin. Just holding her, caressing her, drinking in her longing for him through touch, taste, and smell was nearly enough to energize him. What would it feel like when he finally had her naked and panting beneath him, when he could finally plunge the aching hardness of his body into the hot, welcoming depths—

“My…name is…Ivy,” she breathed.

Adonis paused, his passion-addled brain struggling to remind him that he’d asked her a question. He surrendered to the urge to lean forward and rub his cheek along her neck. Her hands fluttered up to grasp his shoulders as he pressed a hot kiss to her flesh. The taste of her purity sizzled on his tongue and he groaned helplessly, grasping her waist as he licked and nibbled at her flesh. She gasped and he nuzzled her cheek and sucked in another lungful of her rich perfume. His head swam with heat and lust and pure, unadulterated need. He’d spent nearly all of his energy healing himself. He was an empty well, waiting for the refreshing tide that lay deep inside her. His for the taking…

“What…what is your name?”

He noted with a flash of satisfaction that her voice was hoarse with pleasure, further evidenced by the way she squeezed his shoulders harder with every brush of his lips over her skin. She was already his, he could hear it in her voice, feel it in the way she pressed the soft curves of her body against the hard planes of his own. As an incubus, he had a natural instinct when it came to women, could discover what pleased them with almost subconscious ease. With Ivy, he had a glorious sense of openness, the free delight that was almost entirely unique to virgins. He trembled with anticipation.

Playing his lips over hers in the barest hint of a kiss, he pulled back just enough to whisper the coup de grace. “I am Adonis,” he breathed. “Prince of Nysa.”

Her entire body went rigid seconds before a blast of pure light exploded from her body, hitting him full force and propelling him across the room. He hit a bookcase with a bone-jarring thud, bellowing in agony as the light undulating from Ivy scalded him like the hottest flames under Hecate’s cauldron.

Books crashed down on him, bursting into flames and falling like dying phoenixes all around him. His skin crackled and the acrid scent of burning flesh assaulted his nostrils, obliterating the last vestiges of her sweet, virginal perfume and replacing it with the charred evidence of his own dire state. Survival instinct sent the last of his energy into his flesh as he tried desperately to keep his impending immolation at bay.

As he struggled to keep the human flesh that was his host and his prison alive, he was forced to cease the outward charade. His teeth elongated into sharp points, black, sickle-shaped claws sprouted from his fingertips. Horns erupted along his crown to curl back and up and his wings exploded from his back like thick, charcoal leather sails whipping violently in the wind.
 
He bellowed again as he dropped to his knees.

It took him several agonizing minutes to realize Ivy was screaming too, terror thick in her voice. His raised his head just enough to see the horror etched across her face and then his world grew dark around the edges and he swayed. The flesh around him grew heavier and he realized with a flood of dread that the body was dying. Determination, hot and pure, surged through him. He had given his oath that he would keep this body alive. He would not fail in the duty he’d sworn to uphold. He would not.

Forcing himself to face his attacker, Adonis tried to make eye contact. Even without the energy for magic, he still had the attributes of a natural-born incubus. If he could make eye contact with Ivy, he could fascinate her long enough to get away.

She wouldn’t look him in the eye. For a second, Adonis feared she avoided his gaze deliberately, that she suspected his tactics and was foiling him. But she was staring at his burned flesh, the look on her face one of abject horror. Before Adonis could study her any further, the fire suddenly stopped.

Seizing the respite, Adonis used his adrenaline to spark an extra ounce of magic and threw it into his flesh, healing it as best he could, praying it would be enough. The pain mercifully lessened, though his skin continued to smoke, the pain simmering in his blood. He lurched to his feet and searched the room for a door, desperate to escape before the woman resumed her attack. Adonis had never attacked a woman in his life, never even raised a claw in anger toward a member of the fairer sex. He had to escape before he was forced to violate that code.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pink ball of light hovering in front of Ivy. It was the last thing he registered as he stumbled, colliding with the stone wall and falling backward to crash onto the floor.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make his limbs move. His right wing was crumpled beneath him, a twisted mess of pain. His body felt like lead, his eyelids pulled down as if Titans hung from each one. He collapsed in a boneless heap as the woman rushed around the room. Rattling bottles, the rustling of dry plants, and grating stone filled his ears, barely heard over the pounding of adrenaline in his veins. He closed his eyes and took several deep, slow breaths. He needed to calm down, center himself. He had to conserve his strength, save it for the one surge he would need to escape this disastrous situation.

With his ear pressed to the ground as it was, Adonis was in a superb position to hear the clacking of several rocks as they hit the stone floor, a few of them bouncing off the thick rug he’d half-fallen onto. Adonis opened his eyes slightly, blinking rapidly as he realized she’d thrown a handful of stones around him to form a circle. Too late, his addled brain registered what she was doing. He reached out a hand a split second after a word in an ancient tongue left her lips.