Page 56 of The Cursed Chalice
I hear Michelle chuckle. “I can’t wait. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Ares was wrong to block my numbers, but it was so nice to hear my cousin’s voice again.
God, it’s hot. I blink, trying to get the glare out of my face. I sit up and look around. Bloodied armor is scattered on the carpeted floor. The soft curling of the smoke from a fire pit disappears into the air. It mixes with the scent of rawhide and sweat. I blink down and look at my feet, seeing a spear resting to the side of them and a shield leaning on a tent post. What the hell is this?
I hear a groan and see a half-naked man lying on his stomach; dark black hair covers his face. His back bears battle scars, both old and new. I squint, only to see fingernail lines running down his back. His breathing is heavy…labored. The sun filters through the canvas resting on his blocked face.
Who is he? I lean forward and brush the hair away from his face.
I edge away from the bed, my hands falling onto a wooden tent post. “Ares?”
His shoulders shift, and he awakens as I still try to bumble around the tent. What the hell is my Black ass doing in a tent? Is this glamping?
“Talia, my love.” Ares’s voice is rich with timbre.
My love? Who is he calling ‘Talia’?
“I am not Talia,” I reply, slowly moving around the room, opening a trunk filled with soft silks and gold bangles.
I guess this must be Talia’s.
“My love, come back to bed. You can be anything you desire to be.” Ares flips the fur, tapping the ground beside him.
I shake my head. “No, I am not Talia.”
“Very funny, my love. Look in the mirror and see.”
The mirror was a large polished silver disk, set in what seemed to be copper.
When I stare at my reflection, it isn’t me. A woman looks back at me with fair skin and green eyes. Red hair spills over her shoulder.
Her lips move. “Free me…Soraya.” Her eyes become hollow, like dark pits. Her purple toga is shredded and covered in blood and ash.
She screams out, stretching her hand out to me. “You must die.”
That was the dream I had last night. I think it’s because I ate late, added to the fact that Ares and I had sex. I groan out loud, pressing my hand to my face. I can feel his weight pressing down on me, the rhythm in the way he drove into me. I can still feel him pounding inside of me. God, how pathetic am I? Begging, asking for his permission to come. Sex with Ares was rough, thick, heavy…punishing. I loved every minute of it until he walked away.
“Can we have these?” Nisa interrupts my thoughts as she pushes a sugary box of cereal in front of my face.
“Sure.” I push the trolley down the aisle. Did we need groceries? No. In fact, I think groceries and market vendors come to the house. I just needed to get out because it felt like a lot. A lot of emotions, a lot of things left unsaid.
Michelle hasn’t called. We said we would meet after I grocery shop.
My phone shrills, and I take it out of my bag.
“Hi, Mich.”
“Where are you?”
I look at Nisa, who picks up a box of sugar cookies. I shake my head. “I’m at Buster’s Market on Lower Baker Street. I’m so excited to see you.”
Nisa puts a soda into the basket.
“Same. I’m five minutes away. I’ll see you soon.”
I put back the soda, and the huge chocolate Nisa dropped in the trolley. I raise my eyes and see the silver mirror sitting at the top of the aisle. To my right, I see a man in a long coat texting. Everything about him feels off. Who the hell wears a long coat in the middle of summer in Bakersfield, Florida? No one. Perhaps I’m being silly, but something has heightened my senses. I push forward; Nisa doesn’t need to be alarmed. I move down another aisle, and he is there again. No, I am not being paranoid. He is following me. Should I call Ares? Or Phobos? No, I just need to get out of here.
