Page 77 of Inextricably Tied

In the dream, she wakes on the stone slab. It’s brighter this time, bioluminescence bathing the room in light. Familiar jagged eyes watch her from the far side of the room as she slides down into the water. The slab turns to dust under her fingers…for now.

“That’s one mystery solved.” Agony emerges from the shadows, extending a hand to greet her at the top of the stairs. His gaze rakes down her body, and she realizes she’s naked, heat spreading between her legs. When she meets his eyes again, she’s clothed, his gaze drifting over her shoulder. “Gonna tell me why you keep coming back here?”

She doesn’t have to look. It looms behind her, the same house stretching like a funhouse mirror until its shadow mingles with Agony.

“You know…” She moves toward the tree line, leaving the house behind. “I liked you better when you tried to kill me.”

Agony follows with a grin.

They don’t get far. Same untrodden path, delving deeper into the forest until slashed trees become visible. Same markings. Same feeling. Same circle they make through the trees, returning to the claw marks again and again.

“Still can’t get anywhere.” Agony slumps down against a tree, flexing his wrists.

You can’t keep him chained up forever.

Harbinger sinks beside him, trying to pick at a strand of grass, but the definition’s off. Fuzzy and wrong, like her eyes can’t focus.

“Were you actually sleeping?” She looks at him skeptically. “In the guest room?”

A smug look crosses his face. “Resting my eyes.”

“Mmhmm.” She tosses the plucked grass at him.

Agony shields himself from it. “I like listening to you two talk. It sounds nice.” He seems surprised by that. “And I wanted to give you a chance, in case…” He rests his head back against the tree, staring off through the woods.

“In case what?”

“In case I did something I shouldn’t.”

Her eyes skate over his lips, flaring at the memory. “You didn’t.”

Agony doesn’t seem convinced. They wait for a bird call, a frog croak, something.

“Does he hate me?”

Harbinger’s head jerks toward Agony.

“Don’t act surprised,” he admonishes. “He did at one point.”

Her mouth twists in consideration. A way to assuage Agony’s fear without discussing what Flint hasn’t said. Hasn’t admitted to himself.

“He did,” she agrees. “But I think he doesn’t hate you anymore. And I think he hates that.”

Agony keeps pulling blades of grass as they crumple under his fingers. “Everything he does is so…”

“Good?” Harbinger finishes.

“Yeah.”

“When this first started, Flint was right; I was drawn to you because it was reckless. Perilous. I don’t know. But now…”

Agony doesn’t move. “Now, what?”

“Now, I’m so used to feeling other people and dealing with their emotions, but you feel me. You understand me in ways no one else can. I thought it was impossible to experience that. To find anyone that would ‘get’ the connection. But you do.”

Agony won’t look at her, head shaking, gaze on the ground. “That’s a mistake. You were right before; it’s reckless.” His voice drops like the thud of her heart. “Sometimes I want to hurt something.”

It shouldn’t surprise her, given what she knows. What Flint’s been trying to instill in her for weeks. Agony trails his fingers closer to her leg, walking a knife’s edge.