First Plane Trilogy

Chapter 5: Report

Sequoia left shortly after, leading Pagomaris away. I let them go, sinking once again into my chair, hands spread out before me on the desk top. I'd grown used to the appearance of my red-tinted skin, the thick, black fingernails now with me full time. For someone who grew up hiding who she was the majority of her life, it had been a relief to come to Demonicon and shed my human disguise. Now, looking down on my demon hands, I almost wished I could go back and pretend to be normal.

No, you don't, Ahbi sent with such conviction I swallowed a lump of guilt. And we both know it.

She was correct, as usual, I realized. The idea of crawling back to the coven made my stomach ache and the hairs on the backs of my arms stir with rejecting gooseflesh. Being forced to hide what I was from infancy, unable to live as the demon girl that was my natural state, put a strain on me I didn't realize I carried until I moved to Demonicon full time.

A strong hand settled on my shoulder. I turned to look up into Ram's eyes as he sat on the edge of my desk and watched me with his usual calm stare. The same stare that, despite its lack of judgment, made me feel uncomfortable and awkward nonetheless.

He knew how I felt about him. I'd already confessed my feelings long before now, back when I was young and naïve, eager to prove to him and myself I was better than Syd, more than my sister. Ram's gentle rejection then broke my heart as much as his kind watchfulness did now. Because despite that initial rebuff, I couldn't help but feel the connection between us, in moments like this one, when his power wound around me in gentle support, guarded but softened enough I knew how much he cared for me.

I had two usual reactions to such closeness. Depending on my mood and the day, I either threw myself at him - something I regretted every single time, hating the sad denial in his face - or snarked my bitterness toward his rejection of us until he left me alone.

Change had finally overtaken me. This time, I refused to fall into bad habits. Instead of my usual, I tightened my stomach against my urgent desire to hug and kiss him and settled myself into my Ruler persona.

"Anything to report?" I purposely kept my tone soft, my body relaxed but for the rigid hold I had over my abdomen. One of Ram's eyebrows shot up into the hanging lock of his bangs, his power tightening around me a fraction. Was this what he'd been waiting for? He seemed to approve, settling himself more casually as he answered.

"Perhaps," he said. "There are murmurs of rumor. I don't have anything concrete."

I couldn't help but watch his lips as he spoke, jerking my gaze from their fullness as he finished. Ram had been Ahbi's eyes and ears in Ostrogotho. At times in the rest of Demonicon, as a spy and a patriot. He'd saved Syd and me when we first came to Demonicon, watching over us though we knew it not. When Ahbi died, instead of joining Dad's service, he transferred to me, his loyalty unwavering. I always found his jump from Ruler to heir odd.

I stood, crossing my arms over my chest, irritated by the fact when seated I had to look up to meet his eyes. Instead, we were now level as I spoke, grateful for something to distract me.

"That's the best you can give me?" I held my ground, resisting the urge to close the gap, to press my mouth to his, so near. It would only take a forward sway, a simple movement to lock my lips on his flesh. I think he waited for me to do so, expecting it, from the guarded look in his eyes. But when I didn't act, when I continued to wait and observe, feeling my personal power growing by the moment, Ram smiled.

"You know I'll tell you everything when I have information to share," he said. "My Ruler." His voice dropped in depth, his power heating around the edges of our connection, sparks firing off in his amber eyes. I felt my pulse increase even as I continued to hold back while I wondered if I was correct, that this was what Ram had been waiting for all along.

The thought made me angry and impulsive. Before he could respond, I lashed out and punched him in the shoulder, hitting him so hard he rocked back away from me. When he steadied himself, his eyes went wide, mouth hanging open.

"You jerk." I wished I could claw at him or hit him again, but I knew if I did I'd end up hurting him as he deserved to be hurt. "You've been playing me."

Ram's mouth snapped shut, hands reaching for me as he stood. I didn't pull away as his strong grip settled on my upper arms, handsome face frowning down at me though without anger.

"Meira," he whispered over my mouth, calling me by name for the first time in four years, "forgive me."

My nostrils flared as my power pushed back against his. "Forget it," I snapped. "Forget all of it. I see through you, now. I wasn't good enough - "

His mouth devoured my lips, arms pulling me against his chest as hunger rose between us. I dug my nails into his back through the thin fabric of his shirt, one leg hooking around his hip as I pushed him back onto the desk. Ram hit the surface hard, pulling me tightly toward him as his teeth caught my tongue.

I pulled away, panting, anger rising all over again. "Don't ever," I snarled, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

He drew a shaking breath. "Meira," he said, reaching for me, his own guilt clearly visible. I watched his passion fade and die, replaced by resigned grief. "I swore to her I'd take care of you," he whispered. "I can't do that if my mind is clouded. But it's become harder and harder to resist you."

She?

There was only one "she" who fit the bill.

This time when I lashed out at him, I meant it, my nails drawing across his cheek. Ram rocked back, shaking his head as he straightened, a thin line of blood growing from the cut below his left eye. But he didn't look angry, only more guilty and his expression fed my own anger.

"Syd isn't here," I said, reaching for cold fury and finding it waiting. "And this is none of her damned business." I shivered with the reaction as passion clashed with fury. "I don't need you to take care of me, Ram. I need someone to stand beside me." To stand with me against Henemordonin, to take my grandfather's place on Second Seat. I needed a mate, Henemordonin was right about that much. But not just any demon would do. "I need someone I can trust." My anger drained into soft desperation as I sagged, hands falling to my sides. "I need you."

How I'd longed to say those words to him. He'd never allowed me to get this far, always cutting me off or deflecting when I came close. This time, Ram sat silently, a trickle of blood tracking down his face. He held still for a very long time as my body shivered and I struggled to take control. At least Ahbi was staying out of things. I could be grateful for that much.

Ram stood suddenly and embraced me again, pressing me tightly to his chest. I felt his body trembling, heard his thudding heartbeat in my ear as I hugged him back. But this time it wasn't for my own comfort. I felt it was a shared support, as though he needed me as much as I needed him.

"You know I can't be who you want me to be." His words emerged thick and full of pain. "I'm too low ranked to be your mate, Meira."

"Says who?" I looked up in to his eyes, though I refused to let him go. It felt so right, infinitely comforting to remain there with his arms around me, mine looped about his waist, though the sight of his blood - blood I'd drawn in anger - still on his cheek made me wince from guilt. "I'm Ruler. And there are no laws against it."

He looked as though he wanted to argue, but remained silent, for once.

It may have been my small victory earlier made me bold, but I wasn't about to allow this chance to slip through my fingers.

"You've been telling me to stand up for what I want," I said. "I've struggled to do just that, Ram. But I'm here, now, and I want you."

His lips lingered on mine again, this time gentle and sweet. I held back, though my magic twisted around his, longing to pull him close and never let him go. When Ram lifted his face from mine, I could see his denial, though I knew it long before then as his body tensed and his magic gently rejected mine.

I backed away, sagging, defeated while Ram finally lifted one hand and swiped at the blood on his cheek.

"My Ruler," he said, bowing to me. "Please believe I only want what's best for you. And any mating with me will bring you complications you do not need."

"What the hell does that mean?" I stomped one foot, knowing it showed my childish side, but unable to stop myself from expressing my irritation. "You tell me to be strong, to fight against Henemordonin, and yet all you give me are riddles and half-truths." I shook my head, turned from him. "It's time for you to go." Time now, before I did something I would regret, before I fell back into the old patterns. I would not give in to the past and my weakness, not when I'd gained this small ground.

"Perhaps you should speak to your sister," Ram said, the exact wrong thing to come out of his mouth in that moment. "She knows your dilemma."

I didn't turn around. My power slammed into him, the sound of his deep grunt enough evidence I'd hit the mark.

"When I want your advice, Rameranselot," I said, "I'll ask for it."

Silence hung between us. I longed to spin around, to apologize, but my newfound backbone refused to bend or relent. I held my place, the mantle of Ruler wrapped around me as I heard him shift, sigh and leave.

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