Page 44 of The Death God
“Himeros? Where on the body did it beep?”
He gestured at his underwear.
“They chipped your dick?” Thanatos sent Alaric a look. Could they have?
“I don’t think so.” Himeros frowned.
“When you take yourself in hand, do you feel anything that shouldn’t be there?” Alaric’s voice was calmer than Thanatos had expected, but it didn’t help Himeros’ confused look.
“Eh…If his facility was anything like ours, he wouldn’t have explored much.”
Alaric shot him an uncomprehensive look.
“No alone time to explore any bumps or ridges.” Thanatos hoped he wouldn’t ask questions, but suspected he would.
“He was alone when we found him.”
Right, maybe it wasn’t the same at all. Maybe they didn’t have private sessions or were monitored every moment of every day. “Right. Okay, I see your point.”
Alaric was still looking at him with a weird expression. “So you never—”
“Any ridges or bumps, Himeros?” He spoke louder than he’d meant to, and Alaric grinned. It was a nice grin, but Thanatos wanted to run and hide behind Gregory.
“The inside of my thigh, perhaps? I think it was where the machine beeped.” He gestured at his left thigh.
Alaric slid a hand over Himeros’ knee, then his fingertips dug into his skin. It didn’t look painful, more like a gentle but thorough probe working its way higher and higher on Himeros’ thigh. Large, rough hands moving ever so carefully. He could almost imagine the heat of them. Thanatos gulped down a breath, and Alaric shot him an amused look. “I have an excellent sense of smell, Thanatos.”
He’d already guessed. “Meaning?”
“You’d like my hands on your thigh?”
Fear slammed into him, and Alaric grunted. “My bad. I wouldn’t either way. I don’t want Gregory to kill me.”
“Why are you teasing then?”
“Not teasing, I’m a little intrigued is all. You’re something new, and I’m…eh…a little bored, I guess. Oh, I think we have something here.” He moved two fingers back and forth over the inside of Himeros’ thigh. Thanatos looked, and it looked like the skin didn’t bend as it should.
“Keep still now.”
Before Thanatos could say anything, Alaric grew claws on one hand, then he cut into Himeros’ skin. A sound left Thanatos before he could stop it, but before Himeros’ hiss had time to truly manifest in the room, Alaric held a small, bloody, cylinder-shaped thing in the palm of his hand.
“Looks like a tracker to me.” He sounded pleased, but Thanatos gulped down nausea when Himeros’ blood trickled down onto the hardwood floor.
“Hardwood floor, not linoleum.” He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Can we get a first aid kit in here?” Alaric’s loud call made Thanatos jump. He was in the castle, not anywhere else.
* * * *
Gregory hurried into Thanatos’ room with the first aid kit from the kitchen. Thanatos was pale as a ghost, and he tossed the kit to Alaric before wrapping his arm around Thanatos and mumbling soothingly in his ear. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re fine.”
Thanatos leaned his forehead against Gregory’s collarbone, and Gregory met Alaric’s gaze.
“Hardwood floor, not linoleum?” Alaric spoke low, as if not to startle Thanatos.
“Flashbacks.” Gregory didn’t know if it was flashbacks, but he remembered Thanatos saying blood on linoleum floor, and Himeros was bleeding on the floor.
He feared this psychic business was much larger than they’d anticipated. He’d believed Thanatos’ house of horrors was the only one. He’d been convinced that, with the warden dead, they’d soon find a clue that would lead to the release of the others. Or someone else would find something. One day they’d hear a story on the news about a group of people being found in a bunker or underground facility, preferably without them having to do anything about it.
