His hands disappear as fast as they appeared, and I jolt into movement, leaving the tunnel behind me. I don’t even turn around to look at him, too afraid I’ll fall. It spits me out into a room full of distorted mirrors. As I walk past the heavy frames, I can’t help glancing at my reflection.
One mirror makes me look as tall as an electricity pole, the next as small as a toddler. Convex and concave glass bends my face grotesquely. Then mirrors that somehow show me from different angles. In one of those, I see Elias standing behind me. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
He’s wearing his striped pants and suit jacket, no shirt covering his defined pecs and abs or the tattoos etched over them. But it’s his face, or rather, what’s covering it, thatdraws my eyes. He’s wearing a black Venetian-style leather mask with gold accents, molded perfectly to cover his forehead, the bridge of his nose, and the tops of his cheeks with only his pale eyes blazing through the symmetrical eyeholes.
The way the mask accents his perfect lips and jawline is as criminal as his intentions with me are. When he notices me watching him, those lips stretch into a sinful smile. It jolts me out of my trance, and I glance behind me… to find no one there.
“Where are you?” I ask angrily. “Stop toying with me!”
“Jules,” he calls softly from somewhere to the right, and I start running again.
In the next room, the ceiling is so low I need to duck as I run, batting away hanging obstacles and vinyl flaps as my feet wade through a sea of rubber balls. I keep feeling like something is brushing against my skin, but when I whirl around, it’s just hanging foam or rubber curtains.
I take another step, and the floor disappears. With a shriek, I drop down onto a bouncy castle, rubber balls pelting me from above.
“I... hate it here!” I yell at the top of my lungs. Only clownish laughter replies.
I scooch off the inflated fortress, barely catching my balance when I’m on solid ground again.
The next room is dark and eerily quiet. The absence of bright colors and circus sounds disorients me as much as the spinning tunnel did. The walls are covered with neon paint that glows under the humming UV lights strategically placed around. Glowing arrows on the floor seem to point in every direction, making it impossible to know which way the exit is.
It feels colder here, and I rub my hands over my exposed arms, missing my leather jacket. My steps are soundless as I pick a random direction and follow the maze, glowingsymbols mocking me from the black walls. It’s my breath that sounds too loud now, rasping as I try to calm down, my throat scratchy and dry.
The mirrors here are different, showing only fragments—my eye here, the curve of my mouth there, a flash of blue hair. I think I see Elias’s pale gaze in one of the fragments and spin frantically, my heart a booming pulse in my ears. Nothing.
“Elias?” I whisper, hating myself for saying his name. I don’t think my body got the memo yet—we don’t want him to catch us. Trembling, I back up, only to hit something warm.
A hand closes around my wrist.
I scream, but the sound is swallowed by the narrow maze walls. Warm breath tickles my earlobe as he leans in close.
“Gotcha.”
12
ELIAS
“You’re making this too easy, Jules,” I say and click my tongue with mock disappointment.
The crook of her neck smells delicious: sex, sweat, and fear. I bury my nose in it and inhale, groaning at the shot of lust that makes my balls pulse with want.
“Wha—what are you going to do to me?” Jules asks, her voice far from the confident approach she tries to present to the world.
“Right now?” I run my hand down the side of her body, tracing the curve of her waist where it flares out into her hips. Then I pull her against me, pressing my hard cock into her ass. “This little chase made my dick hard. You’re going to take care of that.”
“You’re insane,” she squeals, but stands there, frozen in place against me. “You think I’m going to, what, suck your cock before you slit my throat?”
I laugh at the venom in her words. “Slit your throat? Who do you think I am, Cole? No, baby.” I move my free hand to her throat and squeeze lightly. “Maybe I’ll just use my hands. Feel your pulse under my fingertips.”
“Please. Please, just let me go,” Jules whispers. “I won’t tell anyone what I saw, I promise. I won’t even mention I was ever here.”
I laugh in her ear. “You think it’s that easy, Jewel? You just say you won’t rat, we believe you, and you go on your merry way?”
“I mean it!” she exclaims, desperation in her voice. “I don’t want to die over a story.”
With a sigh, I spin her around so she’s facing me. I need her to understand why I’m doing this.
“It’s not over a story, Jules,” I explain slowly. “It’s for our cause.”
