Page 6 of Stone Seduction (Gargoyle Marked #2)
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Luke
T he light sealed me inside a glittery cocoon, robbing me of all liberties.
“The key,” Sharky’s voice echoed. “The key is ours.”
We were moving, ascending, the ring hot on my finger.
Great. Time to suffer a chat with Ember again.
I waited for the lava chamber to return, the sight of her burned body to test my patience. It didn’t happen, the temperature dropping, not rising.
“The key will be given to our queen of retribution. The end is coming.”
Retribution, huh? On who? The gargoyle king? Someone else?
I attempted words, shocked by the sentence falling from my mouth. “Care to fill me in?”
“The key will not speak. The key will be the key.”
Hmmm. Okay.
Stupid shark.
To my surprise, I could move, even turn around in this light, floating in zero gravity. It acted as my personal capsule, carrying me off to meet my doom with no emergency exit.
Damn. There really wasn’t an escape point. I searched for one, feeling for any weak points in the walls with my fingers. I even made a mental attempt, focusing on sensing cracks in the energy as if I wielded the power to make that happen.
Maybe if I wasn’t so suppressed…
I held the ring to my face, watching tiny fires dance within the gemstones.
“What are you?” I asked it. “And you can please get off my finger?”
Nothing, of course.
“Give me a hint,” I probed to the jewelry.
The ring tightened, pain shooting through my finger. The fires shimmered wildly, a searing heat shooting up my arm.
Holy crap!
I grabbed the damn thing, yanking with all my might. “Get off me!”
With every tug, it contracted, the pain becoming unbearable, the metal heating up.
“Get off me!”
Oh my God. It’d burn my finger off
“The key will be silent!” Sharky snapped.
“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” White hot pain engulfed my hand and arm, spreading up my neck. A dozen drills screamed in my skull, violent tremors declaring war on my body.
“Get off me!” I bellowed again, the words burning my throat.
Still, I tugged at the ring, fighting the pain.
I slipped away into an opulent bedroom decorated in rose gold and silver. The scent of patchouli wafted thickly in my face, clothes strewn across the plush carpet. There was no sign of anyone.
“Hello?” I said, my voice echoing around me.
The French doors stood open, silky drapes rippling on the breeze. I moved toward them, stepping over underwear, trousers, and a crumpled red gown.
No one came to answer my call.
The bed on my left had been used, the sheets a mess. A glass of water sat on the right bedside table, a clock on the other. Beneath the patchouli scent were hints of a musky, masculine perfume.
Where the hell was I?
I reached the doors, the drapes appearing to part for me. Creepy, yes, but I stepped out onto the balcony anyway, shielding my eyes against a sudden burst of bright light.
My belly flipped, the light glittering around me. Within a few seconds, I was back in Sharky’s bubble, the ring no longer tight, the pain gone.
What the hell?
“Did you want to tell me something?” I asked the ring, slightly breathless but fine.
The tiny fires dimmed to subtle hints of flame.
Sharky roared, the bubble flickering as a sharp jolt forced me into an aggressive roll.
“Pickles!” I yelped, arms flailing.
“Be gone with you!” the monster cried.
The bubble rocked, shaking like a bag of popcorn fresh out of the microwave. I hit the sides, the top, then cracked the back of my head on a surprisingly solid bottom.
“Dammit!” I yelped, the bubble rolling.
Now I knew how laundry felt when caught in a spin cycle.
Another quake split the sides of the bubble open. Cold air rushed in, stealing my breath. Gravity took over, slamming me onto the bubble’s new floor. My poor spine complained against the impact.
Screw. This.
The cracks widened, letting the rain in. I forced myself onto my knees. More cracks fissured beneath me, moving far too quickly.
Uh-oh.
“You will not have him!” the monster bellowed, the top of the bubble tearing open.
I screamed, the wind coming in with a ferocious rush.
The floor gave way.