“Gone. One day he just up and disappeared.”
There are moments in time where I feel bad that I can’t sympathize with people. Sydni would likely be tearing up, trying to give him a hug and comfort him. Me… I feel nothing. It doesn’t even strike a chord with me that it would be a possibility of Kai walking out on me and never coming back. Even if the thoughts of him being gone from my life have plagued me nonstop for weeks, I don’tfeelfor Kayn.
Only myself. I only ache for myself.
“I see,” is all I say. “Were you… his Mark?”
“No. He already met his Mark well before meeting me. She died. Mundane.”
“How old was… Luce? Your ex-partner.”
He sucks air through his teeth. “His name is Lucifer, and that’s up in the air. Thousands of years old, I imagine. He” —when he pauses, looking at me as if wondering if I’m prepared to hear what he has to say, I hold my breath instinctively— “is the direct son of Belial and Proserpina.”
Theres no stopping my laugh. “Yeah, okay.” That is a load of bullshit. Why do I think that? Because there’s just no plausible way. Right?
“That was what he said,” Kayn says through a nervous groan, his leg dropping for him to lean forward. “I had no reason to not believe him. You know, free-spirited and all that shit.”
Must be nice.
I’d give anything to stop searching for the lies in people’s words. Ever since Tali tried to kill me at fourteen, I’ve started getting sensations that told me when someone wasn’t being truthful. Whether it was the excuses for why I couldn’t have something, or the empty reassurances of love, I could feel the lies…always. Though, it hadn’t completely manifested until my Amoro awakened.
I watched my foster parents’ love for me fade, even as they told me every day that it hadn’t. But I knew better because I could see it.
It wasn’t just them either: Boyfriends, girlfriends, friends. They all lied to me.
Not until Sydni, and then Kairhyse, did I feel the ability to trust even the slightest.
“He taught me a few things about his Vigoro. It would?—”
“What… the fuck is a Vigoro?”
The smile he offers me is gentle, and slightly sympathetic, which I detest. “It’s an Incubi’s demon. Succubae have an Amoro, whereas they have a Vigoro.”
“Is there a difference?” Now, I am intrigued. I was curious before, slightly skeptical, however, there is no aura or scent of deceit. He’s telling me the truth, and with no sense of hesitation… he believes what he is telling me is all facts.
“An Amoro is drawn to love, nurturing, and emotional attachment. It’s why you have a pheromone that can draw others to you for those things.”
I give him an incredulous look, because there is no way he is talking aboutme.
“Don’t believe me?”
“I’m disgusted, whether I believe that or not is inconsequential. You aren’t lying, but maybe mine is different because I’m part Mundane.”
He shakes his head. “If anything, it should be stronger.”
Shifting, I bring my knees up to my chest, boxing myself in. I’m uncomfortable and I don’t like it. “Then a Vigoro, what of that?”
“They are drawn to strength, vitality, and…” He chuckles. “Acceptance.”
I drop my head to the side, one eyebrow up, mouth slightly ajar. “Acceptance…” I repeat slowly.
“Yeah, so basically, if an Incubus is rejected, it can drain them. It makes them irrational, violent, or emotionally charged to?—”
“Become any insecure male.”
“Exactly. Amoro have something similar, but it’s less abrasive. Theyhave to lose their attachment to really feel that sort of descent into darkness.”
“Interesting…” I feel like I don’t know my Amoro very well, but I’ve never seen it as something that was a separate entity to me. I’ve only thought of it as an extension of me, my other half. Except, the way that he describes it, it feels like it’s an actual thing.
