Wed to the Wild God (Aspect and Anchor)

I dig out my jewelry box from under the counter and look for crystals. I have dozens of them, because my mom is nothing if not consistent in her birthday and Christmas gifts of choice. She's given me so many damn crystals over the years I could probably open my own shop. I tug out piece after piece with quartz—a pendant, earrings, a ring, and two silver bracelets with a big decorative hunk of quartz over each wrist. Sure, I look a little…crystal-enthusiastic, but if it helps, I'm absolutely going to roll with it.

Now to test them out.

I take a deep breath and head out of the bathroom, back toward the main part of my apartment. Kassam's not in the kitchen. He's leaning out the window in my living room, practically on the fire escape. He holds out a hand and clucks his tongue, and in his palm is…a bird. It's a tiny sparrow, but it looks up at him with inquisitive eyes, chirping. Kassam smiles back down at it. "Go and see what you can for me, little one."

As if it can understand him, it trills a response and then flies away.

"How…how did you do that?" I ask, shocked.

Kassam looks over at me. He grins, taking in my appearance. I'm wearing a T-shirt and another pair of jeans, because that's all my wardrobe consists of. My hair's pulled up in a fuzzy knot atop my head and my bangs hang over my eyes. It should be a casual look, but I bet it's ruined by all the crystals I'm dripping with, and I wonder if he thinks I dressed up for him. "How did I do what?" he asks, regarding me with a mixture of pleasure and possessiveness. He lifts one big, browned hand and flicks it at me. "Come here."

To my relief, I don't feel any urge to comply. I cross my arms over my chest and silently thank my crystals. For once, my mother is on to something. "First you tell me what's going on."

He lounges against the window. "You'll have to be more specific. What do you mean, 'what is going on'? I fear I am just as confused as you as to our situation. If anything, you probably have more answers than me."

Kassam smiles, and my heart lurches at the sight, my body responding. Okay, so the crystals aren't miracle workers. I reach up and rub one of the earrings, trying to activate the damn thing to work harder. "I mean all of this. Who are you? Why does my brain turn to mush around you? Why were you all bloody in an alley last night? Why did you eat a goddamn stick of butter?" I gesture at my window. "How did you get a bird to eat out of your hand? I was gone for all of five minutes. Where are your clothes? Your ID?"

"That is a great many questions, my light." Kassam doesn't look ruffled by my rapid-fire questioning. "Which do you want answered first?"

"Who are you?" I immediately shoot back.

"Kassam."

"That's not an answer and you know it."

He grins wider. "You can come and sit in my lap and I will answer you truthfully."

"Or I'll push you out that damn window. How's that?"

He throws his head back and laughs, as if both delighted and surprised at my response. "So violent. So angry. Just because you put a few pretty rocks on your wrists? Have I been so cruel to you?" His gaze changes, from amused to sexy, and my skin prickles in response. "I thought I gave you a great deal of pleasure."

"Look." I will not step toward him. I will not. "This…isn't me, okay? I'm not the type of girl to find some guy bloody in an alley and then take him home and bone his brains out. There is something very wrong with that situation, okay? And now I wake up and you're not only still here, but you're licking my butter and—"

"You are obsessed with the butter," he points out. "Are you sad because I wasn't licking you? I'd be more than happy to."

"Will you please listen to me?" I'm about to tear my hair out, I really am. "I don't understand what's going on. Did you drug me? Is that what this is? Can you please stop flirting for five minutes and just give me a straight answer?"

Kassam watches me. Sighs. Lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug. "I cannot stop flirting with you, because that is not who I am. I am cursed to be Hedonism, and so everything out of my mouth will be about pleasure, or for pleasure, or an effort to get more pleasure." He tilts his head, regarding me. "Now do you understand?"

"No. If anything, I'm more confused than ever before. What do you mean, you're Hedonism?"