Page 46 of Inextricably Tied

Her traitorous mouth moves before her thoughts can reach it. “Green.”

It’s exactly what he wants to hear, shadows shuddering with delight. “You want someone to take a risk with you. That’s why I felt your desire after the fire — because your man Flint was jealous. Possessive. A little mean.”

The heat from Agony’s mouth is secondary to the ache between her thighs, flushing up her cheeks when his voice drags lower. “Because that’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve been waiting for: him to lose that perfect, practiced control. To stop holding you so gently. That’s why you’re here with me.” Agony’s gaze dips between her legs. “You want to use me to stoke his anger?”

“No.”

Agony lifts his brows. Is this real? Is it a dream? Is it all in her head? She doesn’t know the words. Doesn’t know if they make sense.

“I don’t want to use you. I want…”

But the thought is too perilous to consider, a want that could only sprout in a dream, absurd and futile.

I want him to give me everything.

I want you to fuck with my head.

I want Flint. And I want you.

Dangling over the edge of desire, baiting the monster to surge up to meet her. “Yellow.” Her mind grapples for sense. “Red.”

Agony fades back into the darkness, his whisper hissing louder until it’s a scream.

“Then wake up!”

FIFTEEN

Flint

Things don’t get easier.

The threat of Agony killing Harbinger lessens, but that’s dangerous in itself, lulling Flint into a false sense of security. He can’t let his guard down. He has to be vigilant. But it becomes more difficult the longer Agony is there, a third where it’s always been the two of them.

The terror gets into debates with Flint about answers to the crossword, spinning theories with Harbinger about whatever show is on TV. It entertains her, at least. When the corner of her mouth ticks up after a long day of interviewing families, it eases a little of Flint’s stress.

She takes it harder than Flint expected, sitting in those living rooms and gently rejecting the offered drinks, bringing a tiny spark of life back to what feels like a tomb. The families always ask the same question. No matter how long it’s been since they last saw their daughter, no matter how faint the thread of hope may be.

Do you think she’s still alive?

It’s too much to put on Harbinger, too much to ask her to find a response. But somehow, she always does. She tells them all the same thing, and more importantly, she always means it.

I want to find her. And I hope that she is.

But none of them can deny the facts: probability and evidence and ticking time. Once Harbinger slides back into the SUV with the weight of each family on her shoulders, the ride is always quiet.

Flint wishes he could go with her. That he could carry this burden for her, but he’s not sure how he would react. What feelings of his own it might stir up, talking through the worst moment of these people’s lives, immortalized in the amber of their minds. Flint offers nonetheless, but Harbinger declines. Says it’s something she has to do herself.

Each of the missing girls are different. Maybe not to the OID, who view them as a cluster of characteristics that lead back to Reid. Skin color, age, appearance: clues to why he chose them. But Harbinger finds the constellation of the girls’ differences and paints them into galaxies for Flint and Agony. Mila was a cougar shifter intent on hiding it. Greer did her lipstick before drag races, like it was good luck. Isolde was starting to lose her deciduous faun horns when the girl next door shyly gave her a heart charm for her bracelet.

When Flint notices the girls share similarities with Agony, it’s disconcerting at best. Evie’s craving for sushi was first, but then one family mentions their daughter’s affinity for puzzles. At the drive-thru, Agony requests an obscure soda; Harbinger pauses halfway through their order before she tells him it was another girl’s favorite drink.

They don’t know what the coincidences mean. Unsurprisingly, neither does Agony, but the pit in Flint’s stomach sinks deeper.

The connection between Agony and Harbinger grows stronger. Flint would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned. What started as a strange quirk has turned into the two of them moving in sync, glancing toward the door at a sound. Laughing at the same joke. Shivering when Flint turns on the AC.

It’s nothing like Flint’s connection with Harbinger. Or, Harbinger’s connection with Flint. Theirs only goes one way, funneling his jealousy and doubt straight into her. He does his best to control it, benefitted by gargoyle stoicism, but it’s a constant open line between them. He can’t imagine what it’s like for her.

Until she tells him.