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Worthwhile

Ambrosius

T here was a disturbing amount of pleasure when Ambrosius revealed himself to humans.

A glimpse of the beast that lay under a vessel of weak human flesh, but it was fun all the same.

Watching Gwendolyn’s lovely, exhausted face react to the horror of him made Ambrosius absolutely giddy.

Just as quickly as he revealed his eyes, Ambrosius flicked his fingers across them again.

Allowing them to settle into a more acceptable appearance, by human standards.

He lowered his hand onto the other, pressing down on the cane as he waited for her to process what she had seen.

Or, more accurately, what he had allowed her to see.

Gwendolyn continued to stare, wide eyed and mouth agape.

Rather than cut in as he was prone to do, Ambrosius found himself staring past her parted lips, to the dark cavern inside.

His curiosity was like an itch below his skin, one he wanted to tear until his blood soaked the wood floors with it.

Ambrosius could feel something, but he couldn’t be completely certain it had taken root.

No, if he wanted confirmation, he would need to prompt her to—

Her lips were moving, and Ambrosius realized he had shut the connection to his ears without noticing.

“… wasn’t just a dream…”

“Dream?” he prompted with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Gwendolyn went rigid.

Her dark lashes blinked rapidly beneath the brim of her hat as her eyes darted across the floor.

Embarrassment, if Ambrosius wasn’t mistaken.

It was easier to tell when he was watching humans versus when he was just sensing them.

“I—” her face scrunched up as if she smelled something rotten.

“That’s none of your business.”

Ambrosius stared long enough she eventually squirmed.

Enticing in its own right, though it had been centuries since he had hunted a human.

He briefly entertained what she would look like running across the sand.

Would she dive into the ocean to get away from him?

Others certainly had, but he found it strange that the thought came to him at all.

He was hardly starving now that the global population had exploded over the last century alone.

What silly thoughts, he mused with a half-smile.

“I…” Gwendolyn swallowed.

“What was that?”

“What?”

“That … that eye thing.”

“Oh, liked that, did you?” he winked with the aforementioned eye .

“I—stop it!” she scolded, all but stomping her foot with her disdain.

“Stop—stop flirting with me and tell me what’s going on!”

He had to give her some credit.

Ambrosius had seen humans collapse at the sight of him, but Gwendolyn appeared to take it rather well.

He supposed she could have been in shock, or maybe whatever she had witnessed with the doll had shaken her foundation of her world.

Perhaps her constitution wasn’t as weak as he initially thought.

Still, Ambrosius was a creature of chaos at his core, and the temptation to goad her was so delicious.

“Gwendolyn, my bittersweet , if I were flirting with you, you would know it,” Ambrosius teased with a soft tap to her nose with his pointer finger.

Her mouth snapped closed faster than a tiger shark, and her eyes narrowed into a proper glare beneath the brim of her hat.

Ambrosius was tickled as he saw her raise her arm, displaying her open palm to him.

How strongly would she slap him?

He wondered if she really would as excitement ignited in his chest.

“Explain,” she hissed.

“Or I swear to god—”

“Oh, please,” Ambrosius rolled his eyes.

“The last thing this place needs is god. ”

“Ambrosius!” Gwendolyn snapped.

Oh. Oh, that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did.

The sound of his name on her lips—surely it had to be the result of their connection.

As much as he wanted to continue wreaking havoc on her, he supposed he should get back to business.

If he didn’t, the Antiquarium would surely get upset.

“All right, all right. Don’t get your panties—”

The harsh contact of her palm hitting smartly against his cheek echoed inside the antique store.

Gwendolyn had hit him without restraint, and hard enough that she shook her hand after the fact, a small hiss of pain escaping her mouth.

Ambrosius felt only a minor sting, but if he had been human?

He wasn’t sure, but he knew he’d been properly caught off guard, and that was exciting.

“Don’t you ever mention my panties again or I swear on my ‘aumakua, I’ll slap you till you bleed,” Gwendolyn all but growled.

?Aumakua.

That was a word he hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“Oh, please do,” Ambrosius purred as he touched the corner of his lip.

He could feel the small cut from his teeth inside his mouth.

“I had no idea how violent you could be.”

She blanched at that, and Ambrosius found it slightly disappointing.

Gwendolyn drew her arms in, folding them below her chest, as if that would stop her from striking him again.

She stared at him expectantly until Ambrosius let out a sigh.

“Why don’t we take this to the main area, hmm? Much more comfortable for conducting business.”

Gwendolyn reluctantly followed him back to the room they had first met in.

At least, Ambrosius approximated it to be the original room.

Things had changed since she had last been here, and business was booming.

Just that morning, the walls had been painted a dull eggshell beige with an awful texture.

Ambrosius gestured toward the love seat, and once she dropped into it, he immediately sat beside her.

Much closer than what was necessary as she bumped into his shoulder, but she didn’t protest further than a near permanent glare.

He could work with that.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked.

The question caught her off guard, but Ambrosius was used to that.

Most humans didn’t notice the subtle shift in the Antiquarium, and Gwendolyn was none the wiser.

Manifesting on the other side of her was a side table, quickly followed by a tea set.

Cups were already poured, sugar and cream already added, as Ambrosius liked it.

Gwendolyn didn’t notice until he reached across her.

He felt her tense, felt her raise her hand, readying an attack if he so much as made the wrong move.

He smiled as he produced the tea saucer, resting it in his lap.

He took a sip of the Earl Grey tea as Gwendolyn stared at the cup suspiciously.

Business it was.

“You have questions,” Ambrosius began as he set the cup on the saucer.

“A fuck ton.”

“Lucky for you, I have answers. But nothing is free as you learned recently—” oh, he could get used to the fire in her eyes.

“So, we’ll have to do a little give and take.”

“Meaning?”

“I’ll answer your questions, if you’ll answer mine. Sounds fair, hmm?”

“Right, just like the doll was fair?” she replied sardonically.

Ambrosius gave her a knowing look.

“You didn’t have to say yes, my bittersweet. That deal was entirely on you . ”

A partial lie, Ambrosius could admit as much.

But unless she asked, he wouldn’t volunteer that information willingly.

Gwendolyn wasn’t happy with his answer, though she rarely showed any signs of happiness outside of her initial reaction to the doll.

However, she was smart enough to know that she was clearly at a disadvantage, as she let out a tired sigh.

“Fine,” she murmured.

“But no sidestepping. No dancing around my questions.”

“Agreed,” Ambrosius replied.

“Well, go ahead. Ask your question.”

“What is the doll?”

His instinct was to evade the question altogether.

Ambrosius didn’t have to answer any of her questions if he were honest with himself.

He was the one who held the cards, the one who knew where all the strings went.

But Ambrosius was as curious as he was chaotic, and on a whim, he decided to answer as honestly as someone like him could.

“Ah, yes, the doll…” Ambrosius sipped his tea.

“The doll is a physical representation of the contract between us.”

Simple, honest, and no dancing around her question, as she requested.

Naturally, that wasn’t enough for her.

“A—it’s a what ? What contract?! ”

“Uh-uh,” he tsked.

“Remember the terms of our exchange, Gwendolyn. I believe it’s my turn.”

“How—ugh!”

He eyed her as she leaned back into the cushion in defeat.

Her mouth—all pinkish brown and pursed—was an intriguing bit of pulpy flesh.

Ambrosius would have lingered there if Gwendolyn hadn’t finally reached over to snag her own cup of tea.

She took a sip, made a questioning face, before setting the saucer back onto the tray.

He imagined she just needed something to ground her, which helped inform Ambrosius exactly what his next question should be.

“ Gwendolyn …” he sighed.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re hiding under your little hat.”

The question caught her off guard—as Ambrosius thought it would—and Gwendolyn naturally leaned away from him.

Her unease was cute, but not what Ambrosius wanted at the moment.

He placed his saucer on the ground next to his cane and turned his attention back to her.

One of her hands was clutching the top of her baseball cap to her head.

She had managed to put more distance between them, but there was no place in the world where she would be safe from him.

Not if his suspicions were correct.

She cursed under her breath.

“Come now, Gwendolyn,” Ambrosius chided as he pinched the brim of her cap between thumb and finger.

“An answer, please.”

“This isn’t fair, ” she murmured.

“Life isn’t fair,” Ambrosius said as he pulled.

Gwendolyn pressed harder on the top of her hat, preventing him from lifting it further.

“You said tell you, not show—”

“Are you going to tell me what’s under here?”

Silence was his answer.

Ambrosius hated silence.

And he showed his displeasure as the room lost its warmth.

His presence filled the space with sinister intent as the lights dimmed.

Gwendolyn was shivering now, and Ambrosius knew it wasn’t because of the chill that had filled the room.

He was scaring her, and it felt so fucking good .

“If you won’t tell me, then show me,” Ambrosius hissed between lengthening teeth.

“Show me or I’m afraid this little game ends now.”

Her eyes shut as she dropped her hand, and Ambrosius slowly removed the baseball cap from her head.

The dusty pink waves that fell to just below her jawline drained his unsettling presence.

He settled back within his body, features smoothing over to appear more human as he stared with genuine surprise.

Gwendolyn radiated warmth as she bowed her head, revealing pink eyebrows that had been hidden under the visor of her cap.

“Oh, Gwendolyn, ” Ambrosius grinned, gathering a lock of her hair between his long fingers.

“Why, you’re beautiful. ”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up ,” she whined, hands pressing against her face.

“This is even better than I could have imagined,” Ambrosius laughed as he tossed the cap somewhere behind the love seat.

“Oh, you’re much too interesting, far too much.”

Her hands flew away from her face, falling to the cushion beneath her.

She leaned toward him, shooting him a scowl as she bared her teeth.

Cute.

“ Why do I have pink hair?!” she demanded.

“The Mark of the Demon,” Ambrosius explained.

“It’s a sign you’ve recently come into contact with a terrible evil. ”

Gwendolyn’s eyes slowly shut, forehead creasing in confusion.

He watched her, felt the way her soul shook before her amber eyes were back on him.

Her mouth opened then closed as she remembered the rules of their conversation.

Unhappily, she let out a loud breath and settled back into her seat.

She was learning.

Good girl, Ambrosius thought.

“Why do you want to return the doll?” he asked.

“Why?” Gwendolyn stared at the paper bag near her feet.

“Because ever since I got this thing from you, my life hasn’t been normal. I kept seeing things that were there and then they weren’t. I-I’ve had strange dreams, felt strange things. I’m more irritable than ever, and it’s messing with my routines. And it’s all because of this doll, and I have no idea what’s happening! Even when you give me an answer, I’m still so confused!”

That same delicious flavor was wafting off her again.

The more she ranted, the more Ambrosius could feel his need to bite rise.

His body would happily enjoy her rich flavor, relish in the destruction of her being.

If he hadn’t had a need for her, he could swallow her whole.

But the signs were pointing toward a more favorable fate for him, and for her as well.

Eating her would be such a waste, regardless of how much he was tempted by it.

“Fuck it, I’m just gonna ask it,” Gwendolyn grumbled under her breath.

“You said the doll was a physical representation of our contract … when you sold me the doll, what was I actually agreeing to?”

Ambrosius smiled, “When you took that doll, you initiated an agreement to be my warlock.”

Gwendolyn heard him, but he could tell she had no idea what to do with it.

Ambrosius supposed his behavior had been a little heavy handed earlier when he scared her.

And the Mark of the Demon was an excellent sign.

Why not give her one?

“A warlock is a very special … position . To put it plainly, warlocks serve demons, and by agreeing to be my warlock, you’ve agreed to serve me. Think of me as … your employer .”