Page 17 of All Saints Day (Lucifer and the Saints #2)
“Hmmm, that is awfully interesting. Something that I’ll have to have a chat with old Suz about.
” Rook’s smile sours, and I can tell that this is the first he’s heard of it.
“Good thing Susan and the other old duffers can’t hear us in here—because I know she wouldn’t have liked you letting a little morsel like that slip,” he purrs low and dangerously before looking up at a big black camera dome in the center of the ceiling.
“Don’t look so confused, Dollface—they can see every twisted thing that goes on in here, sure, but considering all the old codgers on the board can’t stand the sounds of screams anymore…
” he trails off, waving blithely at the camera before turning back to me.
“They trust old Rooky boy to give them the deets, sans screams of agony and pleading for one’s life.” He gives the rope a good tug, my body bobbing up and down once woozily midair.
“So, why don’t you tell me what else little old Frankie is hiding from me, eh?” he goads.
I close my eyes, steeling myself for the inevitable.
“If you can’t figure out what your host is hiding from you, Rook—I can’t help you.
” I open my eyes, his rage written plainly on his face.
“I’m not going to spill my guts to some psycho killer fronting alter just because I get a few threats of bodily harm or death,” I snarl, drawing in a deep breath just before Rook lets go of the rope.
The water is icy as I crash through the surface, and I feel like a soda can being crushed as my lungs desperately try to force the air out.
Time spent without oxygen in the frozen water seems to stretch on forever.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll fuck it up—and this will be the end . My mind begs as the cold burning of oxygen deprivation spreads through my aching chest.
Just as I’m worried that I’m about to release my captive breath— allowing the water to rush into my lungs—I’m yanked by my wrists into a loud, splashing breach of the surface.
I choke on my held breath and the small amount of water that managed to make its way into my mouth—my eyes blinking away the icy water.
Just as my vision comes into focus, I make out Rook—his face half covered by a black mask—a familiar atomizer pinched in his fingers.
Still out of breath, I can’t keep myself from the involuntary gasp for air my body makes, just as Rook blasts me with the suppressant melters.
Not Again!
I feel the fiery heat of lust rip through me like a back draft—setting all my senses aflame as I dangle, frozen and dripping wet from the hook dangling from the ceiling.
Even though my thinking brain knows that right now I’m dealing with Rook, my omega body chemistry is reacting to Frank, my fated mate—my alpha.
“Frank!” I gasp a moan, my nipples diamond hard through the paper-thin wet hospital Johnny—my slick flowing hot and thick between my legs.
“Like I said, Dollface,” Rook growls, reaching out to pinch my face in one powerful hand—pulling me toward him as I dangle from the ceiling like a side of beef in a slaughterhouse.
“Frank isn’t home right now—so you’d better learn how to play along with me if you want to make it through this in one piece. ”
Before I can respond, he lets the rope fly free again—my entire world disappearing beneath the frigid water once more.
This time I’m not under as long, but when Rook fishes me up from the depths, he only pulls me out of the water up to my chest, my face level with his as he kneels on the tiled decking.
“Old Margot and Landon must have found out some really interesting things when they started testing on their own daughter—stuff that was messed up enough to get the White Knight to go after them,” he tuts as I fight to choke down a breath—Frank’s scent heavy and intoxicating in my heightened state of arousal.
I might as well be in heat; all I can think of once I’ve come back from the knife’s edge of oxygen deprivation—is how I want Frank’s knot inside me.
That’s not Frank—there may never have been a Frank. I try to remind my traitorous brain, awash in conflicting chemicals.
I press my lips together—forcing myself to take deep, steady breaths in and out through my nose—not trusting myself to speak.
“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 he pulls 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 on my 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.
“I don’t know when he’ll be back—” Frank confesses, continuing right on with his barrage of fevered warning.
“Lou, there’s so much I need to tell you.
” He presses his forehead to mine, and I can feel his need for me burning him from the inside out.
Fated mates tortured by proximity without being able to properly touch one another.
“But there isn’t any time—I don’t know if there will ever be time,” he growls, his teeth flashing as he brings his mouth close to mine.
“If you think I’d accept your bite right now—when I don’t know who or what you are, after you nearly killed me—you really are crazy,” I whimper, going limp in his arms just as a handful of Windmill guards and medical staff burst through the door.