Crave(21)

Chapter Nine


Asmodeus sat in the dark, drinking a gin and tonic. The air had cooled and it breathed on him like an old friend. The bar was a favorite of his, old too, reassuring, the clientele unassuming. The tables around him were full of tourists and locals. It pleased him that they seemed to ignore his presence and treat him so normal.

Driving Elizabeth home had been a silent affair. The tension nestled in her body, and though he sensed it, she had tried to hide it. He’d dropped her at home, and waited, watching as she stepped inside.

Asmodeus was troubled. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before.

Obsession was a strong word, yet he wanted to devour her at every opportunity. She made him weak in his sexual appetite. The predecessors, her kin, had accepted him straight away. They’d delved into his fantasies and allowed him to control them like ants. Elizabeth was nothing like them. She had a heart and soul of steel. She didn’t want to relent to him. Where is the fun in being in control and having nothing to fight for? Did he really want to break her spirit and have just a whore who did his bidding? It was a question which now troubled him.

Time changed people, these weak human females who wanted strong men to rule them. All it took was money and power and sex. Elizabeth broke those rules. Her need was freedom, to be her own person and not have some devil come and whisk everything she had away.

He took a sip and looked around the room. Was it happening or did his eyes deceive him? Who could deceive the deceiver?

All around him the faces of the people changed. Jacob Cromwell nodded at him from across the room. The women became all of the women in the deal made with him, all the women he had plucked from life and made his prisoner. Ettie stood behind the bar and smiled as she dried the glasses.

One face looked back at him, a man standing in the doorway. This man pushed himself forward and walked to the table. He was tall and dark, his face handsome, almost as good looking as himself. Pulling out the chair opposite, he sat down.

“Ettie, my dear, fetch me a beer please,” the man said.

“Retirement suits you.” Asmodeus sat back, feeling a little guarded at his guest’s presence. Not quite fear but a hint of trepidation filled his chest.

“Retirement? Is that what you call it, Asmodeus? I seem to remember it more like a coup d état. I’m not impressed with the regime change. Bunch of amateurs.”

“Still, I am in charge.”

“Yes, you are. I’m not complaining. Best time I’ve had in years. No complicated meetings, no silly deals to task my pretty head. Here you are, sitting, wracking your head over yet another girl, your diamond.”

The man’s smile niggled at him. “This illusion is your doing, I take it?” Asmodeus quizzed.

“My doing? No, it’s all your doing. It is your doubt, your soul seeking a solution by bringing all the reason and all the rhymes to the fore in the form of the deal makers. I have my diamond. My head isn’t cursed by inadequate thoughts. You don’t know what to do, Asmodeus. It is quite refreshing.”

“I don’t want to break her. I want her to want me as I want her. How do I achieve that?”

The man grinned at him. “The one who holds the title and power position of Satan doesn’t know how. But you are the dark lord, the master of sin, of lust and passion, yet you don’t know how to be loved in return. Oh, dear.”

Asmodeus started to feel a rage build within him. The man was right. The lord of everything sexual knew fuck-all about love.

“I never made deals in order to find my diamond. If I wanted a woman, I took her, yes, but it was a moment in time, a need of contact with a beautiful human creature. The act of sexual pleasure. Love is totally different. It is meant to be, not organized or planned. My diamond was meant for me; she doesn’t sit at my feet or begs me to give her pleasure, she sits by my side. We do things together as one. I ask her, she asks me. I do not take her for granted, ever. Her soul is mine, mine is hers; it is a beautiful, unique state of being. You know nothing, Asmodeus. What does he know, Jacob?”

Asmodeus looked at the image of Cromwell.

“He knows nothing.”

“What does he know?”

In unison, Ettie’s voice stood out above the rest.

“HE KNOWS NOTHING!”

“I rest my case.”

Asmodeus felt lonely, more lonely than he had ever felt before. His so-called heart beat a cold rhythm.

“Is Elizabeth Cromwell not meant for me?”

The man looked at him, lifted his glass and those eyes, those deep blue eyes, grinned at him as he sipped.

“Only you can answer that. It is inside you, the feeling, the knowing that she is yours. No blood ties or deals will bring her to you. You try to buy women with sex, with control and deception. That is your weakness. If you are meant to be, feel it within, woo her, cherish her, treat her like the diamond you want. She is unique, she is precious. Don’t break her, don’t grab her and throw her on the desk. Caress her, stroke her, whisper sweet things in her ear and treat her with respect, not like some object you buy online. Then, and only then, will she come to love you, if it is you she deserves. Treat her as you wish to be treated.”