The Night Goddess turned and grinned at him.
Nyx reached out and touched his face. Eyes, mourning the future denied him, looked back at her. She unveiled his name and began assessing him.
“You are a handsome man, Scott. Perhaps I could make things happen for you?”
He would be a beautiful devotee. A servant for me. Ever indebted. And his soul is strong.
The shade shifted beneath the stare of Nyx. He broke through the silence.
“I guess some girls thought so, but they never wanted to wait or commit. I…never had a lot of money. I became a soldier. My dad had been a soldier…”
“War brings Death on swift wings to many mortals,” she said.
“I could hear them.”
“Hear who?” Her voice did not betray any knowledge.
“When we were ambushed, I could hear these…shrieks. It was like something between a bird of prey and hysterical women. There were wings. It was like the pits of Hell were calling for me. Nobody else heard it. I thought I was going crazy.”
Nyx knew the memory of his terror. Penetrating, sickening fear rolling in his stomach at the war cry of the Keres. The adrenaline galloping through his body to battle for life.
His own screams wailing in his ears.
Nyx also knew their bloodlust. That of the Keres. She knew of ruthless slaughter and how one could develop a taste for it. The Keres could be summoned to satisfy the grimmest needs. The unexpected pleasure of killing in those with a debased heart. Nyx understood the Underworld and all its demons.
“You heard the Keres.”
“Aren’t they death demons or something?” he asked.
They are my mad daughters.
But Nyx merely replied, “Something like that.”
She reached out again and placed her hand on the side of his face, then moved it down to the side of his neck. Stopping to place her hand where it met his shoulder, her grip tightened slightly.
I could mold him. Loyalty is his strongest suit. If he were to believe I am his “one,” he could be mine forever. He is certainly handsome enough. He could learn to be happy with me.
His eyes were wide again and Nyx sensed his fear. Removing her hand from his shoulder, she folded her hands in her lap. Scott looked down at her dusky fingers, entwined on the black folds of her skirt.
Nyx said nothing for a few moments more. It was apparent to her that he was trying to assess what she was. When Scott appeared to have calmed, she spoke.
“You should not stay here. Go to the home that will welcome you. You were a good man. No doubt your faith will see you through the necessary gates.”
Nyx’s eyes darted to his hands. They had begun to tremble. Goddess and soldier were alone in front of the church in the dark hours of the morning.
Scott struggled with his newfound breath. He swallowed and nervous words stumbled out. “No… No, I will not. My life was unjustly taken. Those….things hurt me. It wasn’t even like the gunfire or an explosion. It was them. I was supposed to meet someone here. I don’t know what you are, but…you’re not human. You are…like them, somehow.”
His voice overcame the fear that attacked with a tremor in his speech.
Then, he watched Nyx’s eyes change. She stood, and appeared taller than before.
“My nature is not wholly consumed by lust or murder, though I know the Death Demons and all their ways. You have not deduced at all who I am.”
The goddess’s voice had gone deeper. The air around them murkier. Scott moved his head back and forth, trying to reassure himself of his surroundings, but the buildings and the flagged stone paths were smothered by shadows.
He could just make out the fragrance of rain. Wheels going over a wet street in the distance. Scott winced as the sounds and smells became fainter. Like he was drifting farther away.
I’m in Manchester, I’m in St. Ann’s Square, and this is all going to be a bad dream.
Scott…
The woman’s voice threaded through his brain.
He turned to the source of her voice, unable to get his bearings at all. His vision was clouded.
Nyx paused for a moment and clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms, when she thought of encounters with Poseidon. When she imagined that he would ask to accompany her, that he would desire her on a satisfying level.
After a shaking breath, Nyx continued, “It is worship and devotion I seek. For me and for those like me, it is a need. Like what water is to living men.” The mention of water again brought the Sea God to her mind. The cooling, gravity-altering power of his vast oceans.
It was Nyx’s turn to tremble inside, but it was rage that caused it. Taking silent, deep breaths, Nyx did her best to remain in mortal form.
A mirthless laugh escaped her throat. “And how dreary for me that you find me to be some sort of devil. Do you appreciate nightfall, Scott? Do you find it welcome? After a trying day that has done its best to relieve you of your soul? Try to think of me that way…”
And Scott recalled that in fact, he had always appreciated the evening. He’d welcomed night’s still, quiet hours. Its gentleness in comparison to day’s demands. His heart slowed and his eyes ceased darting around.
Night could be a haven for unknown danger. As well as a sanctuary from it. A sanctuary, like an embrace or a blanket….
Then, the humming lips of Nyx were at his ear, a profound vibration the source of which he forgot. It went through his entire being and he lost all sense of what or where he was.
Nyx drew back. Scott found himself a living, breathing man again.
On a summer night in the city of his birth. Shadows everywhere accompanied by shades of blue, black and grey. Stars and moonlight glittered above.
She was still there, probing his thoughts and looking at him.
Loyalty. Sincerity. Kindness. A deep desire to stamp out the evil in this world. To make it safe for his family. Safe for the family he has yet to have.
Mothering instincts warred with her darker needs. The desires of a lover battled with the whims of a goddess.
Nyx began to pace in front of Scott. Chewing her mortal fingers then tapping them on her thighs.
Her mind drifted back to the woman she’d left in the arms of Morpheus. The woman, prone in the care of the Oneiroi leader and ignorant of whose daughter she was.
“Tell me then. Who this angel is you wait for, Scott?”
He sat back up, groaning at the rather mortal sensations of a sore back. Things he hadn’t felt for so long.
“I never met her. But I knew. I knew I would somehow come to her here. I never had a lot of money, but I had been a good soldier. And I was going to be a teacher. Until I died…”
Relief was reflected in his face when her physical glamour turned yet more natural. She was to his eyes, a pretty Mediterranean girl with inky hair and large brown irises. Almost mortal.
She ceased pacing and sat down beside him.
“Do you know, I could be an angel for you? Do you not think that perhaps it was no ordinary girl you were destined to wed? But someone like me? Someone with sort of…divine qualities?”
And her lips parted in a smile that was wholesome. Deceivingly so.
He sucked in a breath. Then, after a gasp, Scott realized. “I really am…breathing.” A laugh escaped his parted lips. “You...you did this. But you…you are…” He fumbled with his voice. His living voice. His pumping blood. His solid skin and his…breath.