Page 19 of Inextricably Tied

Flint smirks behind her. Agony lays out the flat of his tongue. Pink streaks across her cheeks, but she maneuvers the chopsticks and lifts a piece of the roll into his mouth. Agony drags his tongue over his lips before he swallows.

“Satisfactory?” she asks.

His eyes fall shut when he hums. “Worth being strapped to a chair for.”

“So do you actually need to eat, or are you just being annoying?”

“Don’t know.” Agony chews the next piece she offers. “I don’t think I need to eat. Or breathe. Or have a pulse. But I learned everything from Reid — his human body. Sometimes it just happens, like a reflex.” Agony’s gaze locks on Harbinger’s, and that coal stokes to life in his stomach again. “And I like to taste.”

He finishes off one roll, but when he pouts, Harbinger moves onto the leftover pieces of hers. It’s almost enough to make Agony feel bad for what he’s about to ask…

Almost.

“So what’s your story?” Agony looks between them as Harbinger picks up another piece of food. “You two fucking?”

Flint stiffens. Harbinger jerks a hand under the sushi before it slips. The silence goes on too long, and they both realize it.

Agony smirks.

“Do you want to starve?” Flint grumbles.

Agony meets Flint’s eyes like two swords clashing. “I’m just asking.” His voice is saccharine. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. All that time on the road in compromising positions must make things…tense.”

It’s stifling. There’s not even the sound of their breath in the room any longer. Chopsticks perch in Harbinger’s hand, but she doesn’t move toward Agony. “What makes you think that?”

Agony doesn’t mention her dream. The depths he’s already come to know her. “It’s radiating off of you. Hey, I won’t tell. I’m sure you don’t let it interfere with your work.” His smile grows. “After dealing with the OID, I’d want a way to blow off steam, too. And I’m sure whatever the hell you’ve got going on is better than torture.”

Tension knots through Flint’s shoulders. Harbinger’s fingers clench, and Agony feels a wave of her guilt breach their connection. “Stop talking so I can feed you.”

Agony tilts his head. “Sore spot?”

Harbinger shuts him up by shoving another piece of tuna into his mouth. Every time he swallows enough to speak, she shovels more in.

Clever girl.

On the final bite, he shifts his mouth toward her, knocking the chopstick to the ground. “Smooth,” he teases. Flint does his best to focus on the casefile and avoid the glaring chasm Agony has exposed.

With a resigned sigh, Harbinger kneels for the chopstick — and Agony laces his handcuffs around her throat, yanking her back between his knees.

Now the big boy pays attention. Flint grips the table, ready to push to his feet, but Agony clicks his tongue and pulls tighter. Harbinger gasps, gripping at the metal digging into her throat.

“Now, you two, let’s not be hasty.”

It’s intriguing the way Flint’s mind works. His eyes flick between Agony’s hands, the chain against Harbinger’s throat, Agony’s wicked eyes. There’s panic, sure, but also the trained techniques of someone who’s done this before. Someone who knows better. Someone who prepares for the worst and still looks surprised when it rises up to greet him.

Agony twists his wrists. Tightening the chain, but not enough to cut off Harbinger’s air. He lifts his brows to the look on Flint’s face. “That doesn’t look like just partner panic.”

Fear pounds between them. Harbinger looks toward her gargoyle savior, trying to fit her fingers between the cuffs, but Flint is trapped by the fear of what happens if he moves.

The dread is heady. Intoxicating. Blood dripping in the water, and Agony poises to strike anywhere he can land his teeth.

Then Harbinger pushes off the ground, plunging back into Agony and toppling his chair. Submerging in him, dreamscape swirling around them as she scrambles for footing.

Then Agony’s back slams against the wall, chair dangling from the chains around his legs and chest. Flint’s hulking body blocks the rest of the room, clawed hand crushing Agony’s throat.

Flint presses harder. The drywall cracks.

“Do not. Ever. Touch her again.”