Page 30 of All Saints Day
“Fine, we’ll continue to do it your way,” Rook sighs, casually stroking himself through his black dress slacks as he lets me plunge back to the depths of the tank, my ankle weights making a low metallic thud as I strike the bottom.
I don’t know how much longer my body can handle this. Between the repeated oxygen deprivation and aspiration of water into my lungs, the very real possibility of careening over the edge of the suppressant melters into an actual heat, and the ensuing touch starvation and likely terminal heat sickness—I’m not sure which would be the worse way to go.
All I know is when I do depart this world—I hope it’s as painless as possible, cowardly as that may seem. Not just for me—but for my fated mates, who are inevitably experiencing all of this down our mating bond at this very moment.
Just as I hope that the welcoming dark might be closing in around me, I am once again lifted into the air by that cursed rope.
“You know—we talk all about the carrot and the stick when it comes to encouragement and punishment—perhaps you need less of the stick and more of the carrot right around now, hmm, Louise?”
“Too bad, you don’t have anything I want,” I sputter weakly as I dangle over the water, my vision hazy through the raging body chemicals.
“Liar,” Rook hisses, his hand snapping out to grab the front of my hospital Johnny, reeling my body in toward him.
My body, ever a traitor, lights up like a torch in the night as hepulls me into him—our lips pressing together—my body unable to deny Frank, my fated mate, as soon as we touch.
Rook moans into my mouth for a fraction of a second before he recoils—as if I’ve poisoned or burned him—letting me swing out to dangle free over the water once more, his free hand cupped over his mouth.
“What the fuck was that!?” he snarls, tying the rope off on the nearby brass cleat so that he doesn’t have to focus on keeping me suspended.
“You know what it was,” I tut knowingly as my toes trace the air just above the surface of the water—each breath still a struggle. I’m aware that I’m about to start down the slippery slope of a dangerous game, but I see no other way forward.
“Frankie didn’t say—” he winds up, but I cut him off.
“Do you need Frank to tell you what you just felt?” I let my eyes bore into him as he stares at me, fury in his eyes.
“Shut up,” he hisses. A flash of terror in those manic eyes lets me know I have him.
“Put those lips on me again—tell me you don’t feel it,” I challenge.
With a wild snarl, he undoes my suspension rope and lowers me down toward the tile decking—allowing me and my weighted ankles to stand firmly on the slick porcelain, my arms finally able to fall slack in front of me—still bound and threaded through with the large metal hook.
Rook slips a hand around the nape of my neck and yanks me into another deep kiss—this time our tongues push against one another, and I can feel the singing resonance of the threads of the fated mating bond—even without a shared bite.
I feel Rook’s body temperature spike as he presses against me—his scent vaporizing into a thick, heavy perfume. He smells about a hair’s breadth from going into a damn rut.
“Fuck!” he growls, backing away from me with a horrified expression.
“That’s right,” I pant, struggling to stay onmy feet, a grim grin creeping across my face. “Welcome home, handsome,” I wink at him and blow him a kiss.
“It’s not possible!” Rook booms, his face a shade of purple in his apoplectic rage.
I watch tentatively as he cups his hands over his ears and lurches forward—an all too familiar scene from my days on the run with Frank Stone.
“It’s not just possible, Rook honey—it’s the truth, and you know it,” I sigh plaintively.
He’s suddenly so still, so quiet, that I lean in closer to get a better look at him on instinct. I’m completely unprepared when Rook snaps up and out of his trance—one hand covering his face, while the other pushes me in the center of my chest backward into the tank, my weighted ankle shackles dragging me directly to the bottom.
The force of my body hitting the water drives the air out of my lungs, and in an instant they fill with water.
This is it. This is where it ends for me.
From pain, to nothingness, to a sudden bright light—my lungs burn as I cough water from them, sweet air rushing in—Frank cradles the back of my head, tears pouring from his eyes.
“Lucifer—oh, thank fuck,” Frank sobs, his body curled over mine as I wheeze painfully back to life in his lap.
“F-frank?” I manage to croak out, my vision darkening at the edges.
“Shh-shh.” He presses a finger to my lips and gives a tiny shake of his head. “We don’t have long—we’re gonna have company after Rook’s display back there,” he whispers, his breath ragged—eyes wide with panic.
