“It’s back. Right here.” I keep my eyes closed and tap on my sternum. “Like a strange prodding feeling.”
Rune’s touch is unexpected. His hand is warm as he places it flat against my chest. The prodding continues, but nothing else happens.
“Hold on, I think we need skin contact.” He pulls his hand away and then slides it under my shirt.
My cock jerks and a hot shudder moves beneath my skin as his fingertips ghost over it, not quite touching me fully, but somehow pulling all of my energy to the surface like a magnet. When he places his hand against my sternum this time, a staticky feeling infuses my bones, pushing me down, down, down, like I’m floating away from my body into darkness.
“Atlas.”Drax’s voice fills the void, but it’s nothing like when I managed to communicate with Rune in my sleep. This is distant and difficult to fully make out. “Wh… are…”
“Drax?” I try to call back, but all that comes out is a whisper. “I can’t hear you.”
“Not strong… Magic block…”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “I’m with Rune,” I say, but I’m not sure if he can even hear me. “I don’t know where. Maybe somewhere in New Orleans? It’s an old prison or something. Supposedly underground, but Rune says that’s impossible. We’re safe, but we can’t get out.”
It’s a long shot, but maybe he’ll be able to get some of that and it will at least give them a lead.
“Gods…”Drax growls in frustration. “Not working… keep trying…”
Just as quickly as I was pulled into the darkness, I’m slammed fully back into my body with a jarring thump. Rune is half on top of me, his hand still pressed to the center of my chest, his face only inches from mine.
“What happened?” he asks, his breath fluttering against my face.
“It was Drax trying to contact me. I don’t think he could hear me though, and I could barely hear him. He’s not the most powerful demon, so I don’t know if it was lack of skill or if he was being blocked by the magic that’s keeping us here.”
“He’s looking for you though. That’s something.”
“Yeah, it’s something,” I agree.
RUNE
I managedto work up quite an appetite with all that pacing and thinking today. My stomach growls when Elvira drops off dinner. A spicy smell permeates the small space and makes my mouth water.
“Gumbo,” I gasp. I didn’t seriously think… Does that mean that Elvira told my captor I asked for it, or are they listening in? That can’t be true though, because if they were, they would know that Atlas is here. Unless they just don’t care. It’s not like it changes much. I’m still trapped, I’m still pissing in a bucket, my magic is still more or less useless.
Although, I did come up with some ideas today that I want to try. Food first though.
I pick up the bowl and carry it over to the cot where Atlas is still sitting, just like he has been most of the day, doing his best to stay out of my way while I wore a path in the floor trying to piece some things together. I didn’t get far in regard to who might be behind all of this, but I do have some thoughts about my magic.
“Want some?” I offer, setting the bowl down between us, careful not to spill any.
He shakes his head. “I’m good. You should eat.”
I’m tempted to argue with him again, if for no other reason than because I don’t need anyone babying me. But Iamhungry,and he said he doesn’t need to eat much. I’ll insist at the next meal, since I definitely don’t want him to become too weak to be useful to me. It would be completely impractical to let him turn to stone just when I’m figuring out how to generate magic with him. Plus… fine… he’s kind of sweet for a blockheaded dummy who let himself get trapped here right along with me.
I shovel a spoonful of gumbo into my mouth and force myself not to react to the delightfully spicy, savory flavors that burst on my tongue and warm my belly as they slide down my throat. If my captorissomehow listening or watching, I’m not going to give them the satisfaction. Gumbo and my favorite old t-shirt donotmake up for the fact that they abducted me, bound my magic, and are making me piss in a goddamn bucket.
“Everything okay?” Atlas asks, studying my face with a frown as I keep a carefully neutral expression through another few bites of food.
I give a jerky nod and consider the possibility that wearebeing monitored. If that’s true, then in order to test the feedback loop of my magic inside Atlas, we’re going to have to touch… a lot. My captor will see that much, even if we’re careful not to let on what exactly is happening. But perhaps if we made it look like we were touching forotherreasons…
I finish my gumbo and just about restrain myself from licking the bowl like a ravenous animal before I set it on the ground next to my cot. I lick my lips and look at Atlas for a moment, the rest of my plan slipping into place. It’s safer, just in case theyarewatching.
I shift towards him on the rickety cot, then crook my finger to beckon him closer. He frowns but doesn’t hesitate to lean forward. I don’t have a supernatural sense of smell, but I still manage to catch the surprisingly pleasant scent of moss on his skin—fresh and green, like being in an old garden—as I bring my mouth close to his ear, so he’ll be able to hear my low whisper.
“I think they might be monitoring us,” I murmur as quietly as I can. He grunts in response and tilts his ear closer, causing my lips to inadvertently brush his earlobe. A warm tingle rushes through my body and another spark of my magic crackles between us at that brief touch. “I want to test my magic to see if, by touching you, I can generate enough to create a low white noise that will keep us from being overheard.”
“What do you need?” His voice is deep and a little husky. If anyone heard that, it plays perfectly into my plan. I just hope he can be an adult about this.
