The Soothing Scent Of Earth (Elemental Awakening, Book 2) (21 page)

"Whatever," I said without much conviction. "Stay, come, go fuck yourself for all I care." Then I stormed off towards the bathroom, hoping I could lock myself in a fully closed-in stall and block the wicked witch out.

I didn't wait to see if she was following. I tore into the ladies toilets and came to an abrupt halt at the cubicle style stalls. Even when I locked myself inside one, she could peer over the top, look in from underneath the sides, or just plain listen to me do my business. Which meant...

I locked the stall as Isadora's voice reached me through the too many gaps.

"You really have gotten yourself quite an attitude,
Gi
. Did they teach you that at the fortress? Harden you up? Condition you to snap and snarl like a child, wear your emotions on your sleeve."

I sucked in a fortifying breath, determined not to reply, and sat down on the closed lid of the
toilet, head in hands, elbows to knees.

"I expected more from Theodoros'
Thisavros
," she murmured. "He deserves someone who knows how to play the game."

Oh, it was tempting to ask, wasn't it? I bit my lip, tasting blood.

"Of course, with you he could just mould you into whatever he needs. A blank canvas. It's early days, he's probably only just started. Coaxing you to reach beyond your comfort zone, but never going so far you can see what his ultimate goal is. He hides it behind a façade of tenderness, making you think he's holding back to protect you, but he's just setting the trap."

Oh, what an evil woman she was.

"False sense of security," she added on a laugh. "Has he started yet? Tempting you, but not letting you fall too far? It's one of the things I admire most about him. When you let go, he handles the rest. Your place in his world. Your place in his bed. His needs become your needs, and before you know it he's defiling your body, your mind, your soul, and making you think it was your idea."

My hands fisted so tightly in my lap I felt the skin break and blood begin to well beneath my nails.

"Take it from someone who's been there, Cassandra. Let him. It's worth it to taste his hunger without restraint. Oh, how he must still be holding back with you; his sweet little
Gi
." How dare she use his term of endearment. How dare she know it. "But of course," she added, casually. "You can never completely be what he desires, what he
needs
. A
Pyrkagia
Prince with a
Gi...
what? What are you exactly? You're not royalty, so I hear. You're nothing to the
Gi
but something to torment and torture. An imposter to their eyes."

If that's what she thought, she didn't know half of the truth yet. A relief I'd cling to.

"You are so far out of his league, little girl, you might as well admit defeat now. He needs a woman with Fire. Someone who could match his passion with a Fiery passion of their own. You lack in every way it counts, poor thing. In experience. In the boundaries that lack of experience imprisons you within. Even in your
Stoicheio
. Earth and Fire, how do you really think that works? You are grounded in the soil of life itself. He's free to float on the embers of Fire. To your settled, controlled mind he is but a too hot spark, forever just outside of your reach."

The longer I sat mute in that stall the worse it became. I thought silence was the way to go. Ignore her, she'd eventually give up. But the woman was tenacious. Hell, two thousand years of taking what he gave and then accepting his retreat, again and again, only to offer him open arms whenever he returned, was definitely the epitome of not giving up. This woman would never give up on Theo. To her, I was a blip in the long eternal road map of their lives.

I had to play this carefully. Losing my temper and showing her just who I was now, would be a disastrous mistake. I had thought silence was the answer, but like Theo had mentioned,
Athanatos
are predators, and at the moment my silence was making me look weak.

I stood up, smoothed down my hair and then my singlet top, and opened the toilet stall. My green blazing eyes met Isadora's. They immediately flashed gold back at me.

OK, I couldn't blast her with a wall of Fire, but I could remind her just how powerful a
Gi
actually is.

"Is that the best you can do, Isadora?" I asked, fingering a small pot plant that rested on the bench between two sinks.
Gi Stoicheio
surged through me, welcoming me, soothing me, lifting my spirits up. "Reminding me of the differences between Theo and myself. When it's those differences he's told me he craves."

And all right, so I was stretching things slightly, but so was she. Two could play at this game.

She sneered at me, but I felt no swell of Fire, just the glare of gold from her eyes as she tracked my movements, watched the plant sway in the still air of the bathroom. Took in the vibrancy of green in my eyes.

"Has it not occurred to your very old mind," I said, enjoying her small grimace at my reference to her age, "that Theo has tired of the burn? He seeks something more soothing, less temperamental,
to settle with permanently. Someone he can envisage caring for throughout the rest of his life. Or are you so stuck in your ancient ways you cannot understand the needs of a man like Theo? His natural instinct to protect what is his."

"What would you know of our kind?" she snapped back. "You're just a baby. You haven't even lived yet."

"You think knowledge is restricted to experience? It's not," I replied, keeping my voice steady, making sure all she saw was a
Gi
at complete ease. "From the moment I woke up in that pit of Earth I felt it," I whispered, making the leaves on the pot plant tinkle as they brushed their edges together.

It was a light, ethereal sound, all I could achieve with such a small object. But Theo had told me my touch was so delicate, so exquisite, compared to most
Ekmetalleftis.
I was counting on Isadora seeing my talents for strengths instead of the party trick it felt like right now.

"I felt the power that thrummed through my veins, fed my soul," I continued to whisper. "I felt what it was capable of. And I felt Theo's desire to claim it as soon as my
Stoicheio
brushed his. I didn't need thousands of years to see in his eyes the hunger, the
need
. All it took was one look at his face to know he'd stop at nothing to have me."

Oh, this was uncharted territory. I could feel the blush of my audacity and embarrassment rising up my chest. I prayed it never reached my neck, where Isadora would see the ruse for what it was. Yes, Theo wanted me, but I'd initially never thought I was anything more than just a passing intrigue. Every word out of my mouth was my own desire, my own reaction to him. Not his for me. I made it sound real, because
I
felt it. But I was not the recipient of that fervent hunger, I was the hunger itself. For him.

"You play a dangerous game,
Gi
," she purred, enjoying the altercation a little too much. "You are but a passing fad, something to break the boredom. Something disposable when the desire burns itself out."

Her words were too close to what Theo had said only this morning. Not about us, but about
Athanatos
in general.
"Our very long lives offer little in the way of a challenge at times; we greedily grasp any chance to alleviate that boredom."
Too close.

I bit back.

"I'm his
Thisavros,"
I spat. "Or had you forgotten that too?"

She laughed, it was a sound of pure amusement, laced with the bitter tinge of satisfaction.

My back stiffened at the tone it relayed.

"Cassandra," she sighed, really laying the superior attitude on thick now. "He's had a
Thisavros
before."

No. She was lying. She had to be.

"I don't believe you," I said, aware the words gave her more ground and buried me.

"Fifteen hundred years ago," she said, giving me facts I didn't want to hear. Giving her lie credence. "Her name was Melita," she added, and a weight settled over my heart. My hands fisted, the pot plant forgotten. "A
Pyrkagia
with such beautiful passion, yet such a tender touch. I had thought I'd lost him then, too. But I was patient. And Melita was cast aside, returning him to me."

Truth echoed in each word, in the pain she voiced when she mentioned her feelings of loss. A true sensation she relived in the telling of this story. I didn't want to acknowledge that the words held any reality at all, but how could I not, when she braced herself through the memory. Fortified her expression and tried to hide the agony she felt.

She'd failed. I saw her pain. I saw the truth. So in fact, she'd succeeded in the end. Because I believed what she was telling me was the truth.

I sucked in a shaky breath of air and felt the grip on my emotions slip. Theo was old. Three thousand years old. I knew he'd had lovers before. Even Nico had warned me that Theo had lost those he treasured in the past. His exact words.
Those he'd treasured
.
Thisavros
means treasure. Had Nico been referring to Melita, and had the loss been a choice Theo had made?

My hand covered my mouth, trying to hold the cry of anguish inside. I had no right to feel it.
Theo had a past, and the past should remain in the past. But he'd never mentioned a previous
Thisavros
. I'd believed I was his only one. I'd felt myself special, when I wasn't really that special at all.

I hated this woman for telling me. I should have thanked her for revealing a secret Theo had chosen to keep. Knowledge is power, and knowing this would help me to protect my heart in the end. Make me stronger. But I didn't feel stronger for knowing. I felt weak in the face of Isadora's self-righteous smirk. The one she'd hidden for most of today.

It was back now, so was her sneer. So was her cocky superiority. She knew she'd gotten to me. She knew she'd made her point. Slammed that wedge between us a little harder. Made the gap she'd been creating expand.

I hated her.

"Oh, you didn't know?" she said innocently. "I was so sure he'd tell you. A warning perhaps, to keep you in line. Theodoros doesn't like his women to behave the same way Melita did. He doesn't like to be reminded of that painful time in his past." She cocked her head to the side and considered me intently for a moment, then added, "But what I can't understand is why he chose another
Thisavros
who is the spitting image of Melita; his lost love. You may not look like a
Pyrkagia
, but by
Aetheros,
you act like Melita to a T."

I was breathing too quickly. I knew it. Anger and heartache making a volatile mix inside my head. I battled internally to hold on to my
Stoicheio
, but the Earth's proximity and constant call for help was making it hard. I knew intrinsically not to reach for my Fire, but the Earth, it was there, waiting for me to touch.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Cassandra," Isadora said softly, as though she was offering me support, not twisting the knife in my heart. "Melita lasted a decade, in our very long lives, that's a blink of an eye. I'm sure you'll recover with time."

A decade. A decade to fall further in love and have it shattered. I couldn't face it.

I couldn't let her see that.

I wrapped my fingers around the potted plant, unaware of what exactly I was doing, and then hurled everything that made up the essence of
Gi
to me at Isadora. She gasped, placed a delicate hand to her throat, but didn't fight back with Fire. Earth thrummed in the bathroom, rattled the windows and foundations to their core.

I stumbled, Isadora collapsed to her knees, her hand falling away uselessly... and Theo barged through the door.

He took the scene in with ever increasing horror. His eyes landing on Isadora first, then me and the vivid green blazing from my eyes, and then the pot plant's leaves I held fisted in my palm.

"
Curare
," he breathed. "Casey, you're channelling
Strychnos Toxifera
. You're paralysing Isadora. Pull back your
Stoicheio
now."

I gulped at the stricken look on Theo's face, at the slack look on Isadora's; her chest not rising and falling, her pulse quiet at her throat. With a cry of dismay I released the leaves on the small flowering pot plant and took three hurried steps away, placing my back to the wall of the bathroom. I was shaking from head to toe.

Theo knelt down next to Isadora, cradling her limp form in his lap, brushing her hair tenderly from her face. The knife twisted deeper. He shook her shoulders, and when that didn't work, out of desperation slapped her twice on the cheek. They were gentle taps; even on the edge of disaster Theo was in utter control.

Her eyes blinked open, taking in Theo's intimate position and then with calculated accuracy, she turned to look at me and whimpered. As though petrified of what I'd do next.