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“And?”
His voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, his gaze intense. “I want you both to touch a mirror together, to let it consume you.” Each word dripping with a potent blend of temptation and foreboding.
“Well, this was a waste of time. We’re not trading our lives for a box of matches. Thanks–”
His shifted, urgency creeping into his voice as he interjected. “Wait! You won’t die, but be warned, you may risk losing your very sanity. Yet, in that perilous gamble lies the promise of experiencing your deepest desires, your life’s dreams, or your very destiny.”
“Or we could watch ourselves die.”
The spirit shrugged. “It’s possible. But then you get what you need. Matches, you say? Easy.”
“And gasoline or something flammable. A gallon of it.”
“You bet!” He winked.
Reaper glanced at me. “What do you think?”
“I don’t trust him.”
“We can go.” He jerked his head to the door. “I’m sure we can find what we need somewhere out there. Maybe even on someone already dead.”
Suddenly, I understood the vision I’d had. Whether it was a desire, despair, or destruction, I wasn’t sure, but with that forewarning, I was more prepared to play it out for the spirit in return for our items. At least it wasn’t a bloody death scene, and I couldn’t deny the spark of excitement burning in my core.
I cleared my throat. “Let’s do it.”
He tightened his hold on me and, with a finger under my chin, raised my gaze to his. Eyes narrowed, mouth upturned on one side so deliciously, he edged closer. “What’s going on?”
My heart fluttered like little moth wings, but I was now drooling over that sharp jaw. I just wanted to lick it. But I couldn’t. Not yet. “Nothing,” I squeaked.
He growled deep from his throat. “Don’t bullshit me, Tess. If you think you can cross me, I guarantee you are wrong. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to get us both out of this.”
I swallowed, but my mouth felt like it was stuffed with that handkerchief he’d given me, and I shook my head. “It’s not like that,” I whispered. “I just… I think I know it’ll be okay.”
For a beat, he remained motionless. “Did you see something?” I nodded as subtly as I could, and he followed with his own curt nod. “Lead the way, then, petite monstre.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Echoes of Freedom
Maverick
As we crept towardthe mirrors, I let Tess guide us to whichever one she felt best about. I didn’t know what her vision could have depicted, but she was willing to see it through, so I tried to trust her.
She was brimming with fear and lust in such a delicious way, I had to think of shit and piss in the streets to keep my dick in line. Each step was like an eternity as we inched toward the mirror, the force of the gleeful spirit in the room watching us, pressing into my consciousness. I wanted to strangle the life out of him and send him to Hell, but it wasn’t my place, and the last thing I needed was to give them a new path right to me. We were going to have to follow this through.
When we reached the mirror, Tess took a deep breath and wiggled her fingers, as if she were bracing for the worst, even though inside she was nearly erupting with lascivious hunger. That vision must have been dirty, going by her scent. It was hardly the time or the place, but I’d never been one to worry about such things. I couldn’t help my own growing excitement as her desire permeated our surroundings, nor my knowing smirk as we reached out to touch the mirror together.
Tess paused and turned her head toward the spirit. “Will it suck us in, or…”
“It will reveal all, and you will let it direct you,” he explained.
With that non-answer, as we touched the mirror, I was jolted to attention and unable to turn away. My reflection had her by the throat, our lips a whisper away, my eyes sharp, sneering. I barked commands at her, and she demurely agreed, peeling her clothes off. I pushed her to her knees and directed her to unbutton my jeans, pull my dick out and lick it.
Obviously my cock promptly stood at attention, pressing painfully against my jeans. “God damn, Tess, please tell me this is your desire and not your destruction,” I rasped beside her, having to cough out the tickle in my throat.
“Or yours,” she answered, voice warbling.
I gaped at her, leaning in close to her neck and sniffed deeply. She smelled so deliriously horny, it was a wonder she could stand still—unless I had it wrong somehow. But that never happened. For my part, I was going to rut if I wasn’t careful, which was something I’d never felt before. My closely guarded secret was that controlling myself was a point of pride, even if it was by intentionally letting go.
This frantic need was new, and because we were in a dangerous situation, I couldn’t be sure what was real. There were so many kinds of tricks these entities here might be playing, so we couldn’t even trustour own emotions and instincts. Backing away from those, I knew, in my experience, if I wanted to maintain control, I had to loosen the reins.
