Death, Century Hill

“Find him! He can’t run that goddamned fast!” I flattened myself against the wall, praying the shadows kept me hidden. I saw several of my pursuers run past the alley entrance, shouting that they’d kill me when they found me. I’d be long gone before they could make good on their threat. Half an hour passed and I hadn’t moved a muscle except to breathe—steady, in and out, in

A Torquere Press Arcana - 1

and out. If I kept up the rhythm, I’d be okay. I’d been through worse. Only when I was sure that they’d given up did I leave the safety of the dark. This was stupid. I was smarter than this. How had they seen me at all? Inching out cautiously, I peered up and down the street. It was deserted, dark and quiet. The only sound was the relentless pounding of my heart, and that was loud enough that, for a moment, I wondered if anyone else could hear it. The idol in my backpack was getting heavy. I just wanted to deliver the damn thing, collect my fee, and be done with it. Coming back to this dank, roach-and-rat-infested sewer of a city again was, without a doubt, the lowest point of my career. From then on, I swore to stick to high-price jobs: no more acquiring relics that were older than dirt, especially for mysterious, no-name fuckers who didn’t even have the decency to pay the full half-fee up-front. I took off at a steady run toward the alley a couple blocks down. Digging my keys out of a zippered pocket, I skidded around the corner and nearly ran right into a stinking, overfilled dumpster. I hopped onto the bike hidden behind it and cranked my baby up. The Ducati rumbled to life beneath me, the purr sweet as fuck. I sped away from the shadows and out onto the street with nearly eighty horses vibrating between my legs. Brock City flew by in a blur and, before long, I was crossing the city limits and entering Carter County. The road wound uphill, a straight shot from Brock City to the rotting carcass that was once Century Hill Asylum. And who the fuck buys a ruined, century-old mental hospital, anyway? Century Hill Lane cut a zigzag up the side of Century Hill and I slowed down as I started the ascent. Too many deaths out here had given the road the uninventive but wholly fitting name of “Highway to Hell”. Little white, weathered crosses dotted either side of the road, though most were on the slope side. The trees were thick down the hill, perfect for wrapping a car around. My friends and I used to come up here when we were teenagers, daring each other to touch the faded, ruined wall that surrounded the hospital. As with most places like this, Century Hill Asylum was reputed to be haunted. Not that I believed the rumors, and the recent purchase of the place convinced me the rumors were just a load of bullshit. When I reached the top, I rolled to a stop at the cast iron gate. Turning off the bike, I sat there, staring up at the building looming just beyond the outer wall. Three stories towered over the overgrown courtyard. Windows stared down, some broken, some dirty, some a little of both. What appeared to have been a gazebo off to the right was now nothing but a crumbling mess of weeds, vines, and decayed wood. Climbing off the bike, I took off my helmet and went to the rusted box to the left of the gate. It took several tries, but I finally got the call button pressed enough to hear a crackle. “Someone order a pizza?” I smirked and released the button. A few seconds later, there was the sound of straining metal and the gates slowly began to open. I went back to the bike and

A Torquere Press Arcana - 2

slipped my helmet back on before starting the bike and heading into the courtyard. A set of stone steps led up to the double doors of the hospital, and just as I stopped in front of them, one of the doors opened. I didn’t pay much attention to the person coming down the steps until I’d gotten my helmet off. Then I looked up. Whoa. Hello. “Mr. Shepard. So nice to finally meet you.” One elegantly long hand was offered, and the man attached to it had me practically salivating. “Likewise.” I shook his hand, noting the slightly longer-than-normal nails. “Call me Kris. Mister makes me sound like my dad, and I seriously doubt he’d be standing here.” The man smiled slowly. “Very well, Kris.” I think I groaned just from the way he said my name. “I am Lane Solis. Please, do come in.” He stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. “Thanks.” I headed up the steps and he followed, closing the metal door behind us. The lobby—or entryway—was surprisingly clear of clutter, though a thin layer of dust covered everything. I’d expected to see broken furniture, maybe cracked floor tiles, but there was nothing like that. The reception desk was behind a thick pane of glass, and the office beyond that was dark. I made out the shapes of another desk, a chair, and a file cabinet before Lane caught my attention. “This way, please.” Lane pointed to the hall to the right. “I’ve set up my living quarters in the staff room. We had to knock out a few walls to provide more space, but it works.” “We?” I asked, falling into step behind him. Okay, so I had ulterior motives, especially since the man’s ass was muscled and moved just right under his black dress slacks. “My foreman and I,” Lane said as he stopped in front of a door. He fished a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open. He walked in and a moment later, a dim, overhead light flickered on in the room. “Make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink?” “Um, sure. What have you got?” I stepped into the room and looked around. It had an odd clinical feel to it, despite the obvious homey touches that had been added. A dark purple leather couch sat against the wall to my right, a matching recliner at a right angle beside it. In front of the couch was a low, black-lacquered coffee table with an array of magazines fanned out in a half-circle. I went over to the couch and took off my backpack, setting it on the floor as I sank down into the overstuffed cushions. “Wow. Nice.”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 3

Lane chuckled and disappeared around a sort of makeshift bar and into a small kitchen. “Thank you.” He opened the refrigerator, then glanced over his shoulder at me. “I have Pepsi, a nice red wine, Killian’s Red…” “Pepsi’s fine, thanks. Don’t make a habit of drinking and driving.” He closed the refrigerator and came over, handing me an ice-cold Pepsi can before dropping down into the recliner. Long legs draped over one arm while he rested against the other, taking a long, slow swallow from a bottle of Killian’s. I just sat there, unable to look away, gaze riveted by the movement of his throat as he swallowed, the tiniest hint of dark hair where his gray, button-down shirt was open a few buttons. He looked too young to be here, though I wasn’t sure why I thought that. Or why I even cared. It was one of my prime rules: never get involved with a client. Lane looked over at me, and only then did I notice how his eyes weren’t light blue, but gray. “You’re staring,” he said quietly, an amused smile forming. I blinked and looked away quickly, popping my Pepsi open. “Sorry. So, um…what made you want to buy this place up, anyway?” “I liked it.” Okay. I guess that made sense…in a weird, goth sort of way. “You watch a lot of horror movies, don’t you?” I couldn’t resist asking. This place was ripe for stories, though I honestly wouldn’t believe in a single one. I took a drink, surreptitiously watching from the corner of my eye as Lane shifted. “I have,” Lane said. His head fell back, eyes closing. Those legs spread just slightly, one dropping to the floor while the other remained over the arm of the chair. Fuck, I'd need to jerk off after this. “I have a room ready for your use.” Huh? “Um, thanks, but that won’t be necessary.” “On the contrary, it will be.” He didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes. The Killian’s bottle dangled from his right hand, the bottom nearly touching the floor. Sprawled out, Lane looked debauched, fucking mouth-watering. “The gate has closed for the evening, Kris. It’s on a time release and will not open until morning.” Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Okay. I could handle this. I could handle sleeping in a mental hospital, long abandoned and

A Torquere Press Arcana - 4

literally falling apart.

What I couldn’t handle was knowing the hottest thing with two legs and a cock would be

sleeping in the same fucking building. Who the hell made the “no touching clients” rule

anyway? Lane rolled his head toward me and those eyes opened.

Oh, yeah. I made the rule.

“I hope that you will make yourself at home. You are welcome to explore this floor, but I

must caution against venturing upstairs. The second floor is full of building materials.”

“What’s up there?”

“Mostly patient rooms, though there are a few offices.”

I nodded. “What about the third floor?”

An odd look descended on Lane’s face, temporarily marring the beauty. Then the expression

faded. “Treatment rooms, exam rooms. A few cells.”

“Cells?”

Lane sat up, stretching. “Are you hungry? I’m starving. I skipped dinner, unfortunately.”

Blinking, I just stared at him as he walked into the kitchen. He hadn’t avoided the question.

He’d blatantly ignored it. He rummaged through the refrigerator, then a few cabinets. After a little bit of clatter, he pulled out a few pans and set one on the stove before running water in the other. “Do you like spaghetti?” he asked, looking at me over his shoulder.

“Umm…sure.” Did I miss something?

“Cool.”

He turned back to his task, setting the pot of water on the stove. After a few minutes, I began

to feel a bit guilty about sitting there and letting him do all the work. Downing the rest of my

Pepsi, I carried it into the kitchen and tossed the can into the trash.

“Need help?”

Lane smiled over at me. “Sure. You want to start the sauce? I’ve got some in the freezer. Just

put it in the microwave for about a minute and a half, then toss it into the pan here. It’ll

defrost the rest of the way.”

“No problem.”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 5

I got the sauce and took the cover off the plastic bowl before putting the bowl into the microwave. When it was done, the block of sauce was melted enough to dump into the saucepan. The burner was already heated on medium and Lane handed me a big wooden spoon. We spent several minutes in silence, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable—just a little awkward. “I trust you did not have too much trouble getting what I sent you for?” It was the first time a single word had been said about the job. I shrugged. “No more than usual. Damn thing weighs a ton, though.” Lane chuckled and reached around and behind me for the strainer bowl. I forced myself to stay put, to not lean, to not even think about trying to touch. Lane apparently had other ideas. Just as his fingers touched the strainer, his lips touched my neck. I shivered, unable to stop it. His breath was warm, moist against my skin. My stirring faltered, then stopped altogether when his tongue drew a slow path up the side of my neck. “What are you doing?” My unsteady voice gave me away immediately. “Something we’ve both wanted since you drove up to my doorstep.” Lane let go of the strainer, gripped my arm instead, and turned me into a kiss that nearly had me on the floor. I hadn’t noticed before, but his tongue was pierced. I moaned despite myself, sucking on his tongue, the little barbell rubbing and stroking and driving me out of my mind. Lane’s fingers dug into my bicep, sending shocks of pain through the muscle. I wanted more. Fuck, I needed more. Kissing him was like a drug, and one kiss seamlessly morphed into several. By the time we stopped, the pasta was close to boiling over and the sauce was burning to the bottom of the pan. We were both breathless and it was uncanny how quickly things had gone from making dinner to making out. “Dinner can wait.” Lane turned off both burners and grabbed my hand, tugging me back into the living room, to the couch. I sure as fuck wasn’t complaining, especially not when a god was stripping right in front of me, staring at me like I was a feast. Mouth-watering. That was the only way to describe what I saw as black dress pants slid down muscular thighs to pool on the floor, Lane’s shirt following. My gaze traveled slowly up his body, drinking in the curvature of sculpted muscles, the hard cut of his hips, the ‘v’ tapering down to a patch of pitch-black curls framing a semi-hard, uncut cock. I looked up, brain shorting out as I took in his abs, the definition of his pecs. When I reached his face, he just smiled and crooked a finger. I shook my head. Reaching out, I ran my fingertips down his stomach, mesmerized by the way his body moved as he stepped closer. I wanted to taste, wanted to lick every damn inch of that gorgeous body. Looking up, I held Lane’s gaze as I stroked one finger down the length of his cock. He sucked in a breath, eyes narrowing.

A Torquere Press Arcana - 6

Scooting to the edge of the couch, I leaned close, flicking my tongue over the head of his cock. His flavor burst on my tongue—sweet and rich. I skimmed the side of the shaft with my lips, burying my nose in the black curls, and breathed him in. He smelled like soap and sweat, pure male musk. Moving lower, I licked his balls, then sucked one into my mouth, rolling it on my tongue. “Kris.” His hands rested on my head, fingers curling slightly into my hair. I released him and drew back, smiling up at him. “Gonna come in my mouth? Let me fuck that ass?” I asked, wrapping my fingers around his prick and stroking slowly. Lane groaned, his eyes rolling back a little. “Fuck, yes,” he ground out, thrusting into my fist. “Rubbers are in the-“ “Gotcha covered.” I winked at him and reached for my backpack with my other hand, not willing to let him go for a second. A quick tug on the zipper pull and it opened. I ignored the cloth-wrapped idol in favor of my black canvas shaving bag. I managed to get it open and snatched a condom package out. It only took a second to get him sheathed and then I was swallowing him down, Lane’s hips bucking forward as he shouted. Pulling back, I rolled my tongue around the head, pushing a little into the slit. Muttered curses poured down, Lane’s fingers fisting, finding a grip in my short hair. Rolling my eyes up to look at him, I smiled once before sinking slowly back down. The tip hit the back of my throat and I swallowed, keeping my eyes open because I wanted to watch him come undone. I didn’t have to wait long. “Kris!” Gentleness was gone and Lane began fucking my throat, cock pushing and sliding on my tongue, hands tight on my head. I let him take control and slipped one hand down, cupping and tugging his balls. Lane growled and shook, and suddenly I wished the rubber wasn’t there as he shot. I swallowed instinctively, desperate to taste even though I couldn’t. He slipped out, pulled the rubber off, and dropped to his knees. Shoving me backward, he literally attacked my mouth, devouring me in a hard kiss that made my fucking toes curl. “Fuck me,” he snapped, working my pants open. “Hell, yes.” I lifted my hips so he could pull my clothes down and off. “So hard and deep I can fucking taste it tomorrow.” As soon as my pants and underwear were gone, I grabbed another rubber from my bag. Lane licked his lips, gaze focused solely on my cock as I stroked it. He crawled onto my lap and

A Torquere Press Arcana - 7

arched backward to pull open the coffee table drawer. I took advantage of his position and leaned forward, wrapping my lips around one dark nipple. “Oh, fuck,” Lane groaned, entire body shuddering in my hands. “Harder, babe.” I bit down, rolling the hard nub between my teeth. Lane jerked and shouted, free hand squeezing my shoulder hard enough to cause pain. By the time I released him, we both were panting. His hands fumbled as he tore open the condom wrapper, but then he began unrolling the latex over my prick and nothing mattered but those fingers stroking down my length. “Hurry,” I groaned. “Fuck.” “Uh huh.” Lane popped the top on a tube and squirted some lube onto two fingers. Biting at his bottom lip, he reached behind him, eyes rolling back as he shoved both his fingers into himself. “So fucking hot.” I slipped a hand beneath him and stroked my fingertip over his hole, and with a frantic nod from him, I pushed my finger in, joining his two. Fuck, he was hot, and tight. “How long?” I asked him, the two of us working his hole open. “Too…long,” he gasped. “Fuck. Now, Kris. Now.” He rose up, pulled our hands out of the way, and shifted. I watched his eyes, his face, as he sank down onto my prick. Sweet fuck, he was tight as a virgin. I gripped his hips, partly to steady him and partly to keep from losing control and bucking up hard into him. He was moving slow, excruciatingly slow. When his ass was flush with my hips, we both stilled, panting, sweat breaking out over the both of us. I slid one hand up his back to pull him down and licked a line up the middle of his chest, lapping up the sweat and taste of his skin. Lane shivered and began rocking, hands on my shoulders, pressing closer. “Don’t stop,” he whispered gruffly. I shook my head, and when I reached his neck, I bit down at the nape, pushing up with my hips at the same time. “Kris!” Lane’s fingers dug into my shoulders and he rode me, hips lifting and slamming back down, grinding back and forth. “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck…” Lifting my head, I grabbed the back of his neck and tugged him down for a kiss, thrusting up to match his maddening rhythm. He moaned into my mouth, movements stuttering seconds before his asshole clamped down and heat sprayed between us. The smell of his spunk filled me and I tore away from the kiss, roaring as I slammed up inside him and came. It took several minutes before either of us could even breathe regularly, much less move. Lane rested his forehead to my shoulder, shaking with the last of the aftershocks. I think we both were reluctant to move, but we finally did, Lane easing up and off, flopping over onto the

A Torquere Press Arcana - 8

couch and sprawling out. I chuckled and pulled the rubber off, tied the end, and finally found his. I got up long enough to take them to the kitchen and throw them away, then returned to the couch. Lane was stretched out on his back, staring up at me with a content but wicked grin. “I really, really needed that.” “Oh, hell yeah.” He moved his legs and I sat down, pulling his legs back across my lap. Lane closed his eyes and I just watched him, one hand idly rubbing up and down his shin. I’d broken my own damn rule, but I couldn’t bring myself to really give a shit. He was too hot, and hell, he seemed just as interested. “How about that spaghetti?” he asked.

“Think it’s salvageable?”

He nodded, laughing a little. “Should be.”

“Cool. Oh, is my bike safe out there?”

“God, I hope so. No one here but us and the ghosts.” His words were followed by a slow-

spreading grin, those gray eyes twinkling.

“Ghosts.”

“Yep,” he said, completely deadpan. “Why do you think no one goes to the third floor?”

“Um, maybe because you’re the only living soul who’s even been nuts enough to give this

roach motel a second glance?”

Lane laughed as he got up, heading for the kitchen, not seeming to care that he was naked. He

might have said something else, some witty comeback, but if he did, I’d totally missed it. My

attention was solely on the tattoo spread across the small of his back. Gaze glued to the tat, I

got up and followed, mouth already watering and we just got off.

“Kris?”

“Huh?” I didn’t look anywhere but at that beautiful artwork.

“I asked if you wanted another… What is it?”

I dropped to my knees right behind him and grabbed his hips to keep him from moving.

“Sweet fuck, that’s gorgeous.”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 9

“Huh? Oh, the tat! Thanks. I got it a few years ago.” It was a portrait-style oval, with swirling and curling tendrils of black and green snaking off to either side of it. In the center of the oval was the Death card, from the Major Arcana of a Celtic tarot deck. The Reaper’s face was shadowed, but I could make out a hint of bone. He held a sickle in front of him, diagonally across his body. His black robes held so much depth of color that I fully expected to see them blow in a nonexistent breeze. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Lane did something on the counter, moved the pots over, I think. “I read the cards, and I got that during a rough transition in my life. Seemed fitting.” I nodded, though I knew he couldn’t see it. “Understandable.” I traced one finger along the lines off to the right and heard Lane swear softly. Then I leaned forward and my tongue followed the path my finger had taken. I was sure he swore then and he shuddered, hands immediately gripping the counter edge. “Kris…” His voice wavered, just a touch husky. Oh, somebody liked that. So…I did it again. “Please…” he whispered. “Dinner, Kris…” “Uh huh…” Moving back to the center of the oval, I gave the Grim Reaper a sucking kiss, Lane crying out and shaking. Then I stood slowly, tongue sliding up Lane’s spine. “Now…we can eat.” “Asshole.” I chuckled and turned his head, giving him a slow, deep kiss. “Yep.” *** Something woke me up in the dead of night. I didn’t know what it was, only knew that my nerves were on end. Goosebumps prickled over my skin and a shiver crept up my spine, gaining momentum as I lay awake, staring at the weird shapes created by moonlight shining through the frosted glass window just above the bed. Lane was beside me, or rather, on me, curled around my body like an octopus. It was quiet, the lack of sound almost deafening. I’d never quite experienced that before, and considering where I was, I sure as fuck wasn’t liking it. I began praying the building would settle or something would… Hell, I didn’t know. I just didn’t like the quiet. Lane mumbled softly, pushing closer. “Mm, you okay?”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 10

“Yeah,” I said, forcing the uneasiness out of my voice as much as possible. “How the hell do you sleep here? It’s too quiet.” Lane shrugged. “Just do. Never thought about it, really. Why?” He lifted his head, one eyebrow rising. “You spooked?” I glared at him. “No. Just not used to absolute silence is all.” “Uh huh.” Lane didn’t look like he believed a word I said. Then again, neither did I. “Want me to take your mind off of it?” His fingers began a slow descent, down my chest, over my stomach. My brain went from spooked to interested within seconds. Lane shifted, sliding up for a kiss. I wrapped my right hand around his and pushed it lower, Lane laughing into my mouth as I closed our fingers around my cock. “Mmm…” I rocked my hips up, pushing my cock through our linked fists. “What sort of distraction did you have in mind?” Lane grinned and slid down my body. “Rubbers are on the headboard.” I reached up and back, patting my hand blindly until I found a wrapper. I tore it open and got ready to put it on, but Lane snatched it out of my hand. My protest died off before it even got started as Lane unrolled the rubber down my shaft using only his mouth. “Fucking shit,” I groaned, grabbing his head. Without pulling off, he shifted and settled between my legs, eyes rolling up to look at me. There’s just something hotter than hell about looking down at a guy when his nose is buried in your pubes. Lane moved back up to the tip and flicked it with his tongue. Then he grinned and pressed the barbell against my slit. I jerked and thrust up, driving my cock down his throat again. He gripped my hips and then I was fucking his mouth with quick strokes. My orgasm barreled down my spine, surprising the hell out of me as I shouted, entire body shaking as I shot. Lane pulled off and grinned up at me. “Think you can get back to sleep now?” I took off the rubber, tied the end, and tossed it into the trash can by the bed. “Oh, yeah. Thank you.” “You’re quite welcome.” He slid back up and licked my lips, the smell of skin and latex strong on his breath. I licked again, searching for more of that flavor. “Wish I could have tasted,” Lane murmured. “Soon.” I couldn’t believe I’d said it, but he didn’t bat an eye, just kept moving against me, humping my left thigh. “Come on. Give it up, babe.”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 11

“Uh huh…” He was panting and pushing, fingers digging into my arms. “Kris…” He jerked suddenly, heat spraying up my thigh. The scent of his spunk was sharp, and I wanted so badly to lick him clean. Lane slumped against me, breathing beginning to steady. “Don’t ever want to move,” he muttered, already sounding half-asleep. I just tugged the covers up over us, ignoring the drying stickiness on my leg, and chuckled. I didn’t trust myself to answer him. I’d already fucked up by sleeping with the man. If I wasn’t careful… I needed to get up, needed to clear my head before I got too deep. Satisfied that Lane was sound asleep again, I got out of bed, careful not to wake him. He shifted and rolled, the sheet slipping down to reveal the top of his tattoo. Smiling slightly, I went looking for my clothes in the living room. He said the first floor was safe to explore, so I put my boots on with that in mind. Taking care that the door wouldn’t lock me out, I walked out into the dark hallway. Given that Lane’s rooms had power, I figured the rest of the place did as well. Sure enough, when I found a light switch on the wall, fluorescent lights flickered on, humming low. It settled the apprehension a little more, knowing I had light. I opened a few doors as I wandered down the hall, most of them were empty patient rooms consisting of a single table, a dingy—if not broken—window on the outer rooms, and a metal bed frame. A little voice in the back of my head made the observation that the tiny rooms were utterly depressing. And people came here with mental issues? Continuing on, I found a few storage rooms, fairly bare except for cleaning supplies in one, and in another, building material for the renovations, I assumed. I went further down the hall and found yet more patient rooms and storage closets. So much for adventure. I turned, intending to head back to Lane’s rooms, but stopped when I saw a door that differed from the others. This one had a placard on it, covered in dust and grime. I wiped and rubbed the plate clean with my fist and made out half of the word “Director”. Could be interesting, I thought. The door stuck a little, but with a gentle shove, I managed to get it open. The room reeked of dust and disuse—old paper, stale air, and something nauseating that resembled the cleaning products used in a doctor’s office. Boxes were stacked everywhere, most taped shut. No books sat in the bookshelves, but there was a pile on the metal desk. Walking over to it, I picked up a book sitting off to the side. The cracked, brown leather front was labeled “Journal”. Curiosity got the better of me. It was par for the course as a thief.

A Torquere Press Arcana - 12

I sat down and flipped through the journal. The pages were yellowed, the ink faded to a dull brown. Most seemed to be entries detailing everyday things in the hospital, written in a flowing, masculine script. I scanned the entries, not finding too much of interest. Toward the end, however, the writing grew shaky, hurried. Entries were short and scattered, in both time lapse and form. The director—whose journal I assumed it was—rambled about “marked men” and some curse. The thoughts, written out on paper, were disjointed, and I could almost hear this nameless man muttering about curses and whatnot as he paced the floor of his office. The next page was no different—more mention of being “marked”. I turned another page. There was no next entry, just a rough sketch. I turned the book this way and that, trying to make heads or tails of the drawing. As the lines became clear, I felt unease creep up my spine. Here, in a journal probably half a century old, was a crude version of Lane’s tattoo. I closed the book and stood, fully intending to ask Lane about it when he woke up. I started for the door, but just before I got to it, it slammed shut. “Lane!” I pounded on the hard wooden surface. “Lane!” I tried the knob, but it was locked. “Lane! This isn’t fucking funny!” I shouted as I jiggled the door knob. I beat my fists against the door again. “Lane!” I stepped back, wishing I had my tools, when I heard the click of a lock. I just stood there for several minutes, staring dumbfounded at it. I picked up the journal from where I’d dropped it and cautiously opened the door. Light poured into the office from the hall lights, and I stepped out into chaos. “Dr. Richmond, you have a call on line 3,” a woman announced over an intercom. “Dr. Richmond, line 3.” “Nurse Bradley, where is Mr. Till’s chart?” An older man in a long, white coat walked by me, talking to the woman trailing behind him in a nurse’s uniform. “I’ll get it right away, Doctor.” She turned and hurried back down the hall. I followed her, my feet moving even if my mind had simply decided to take an obvious vacation. People—mostly nurses and a few doctors—hurried back and forth through the halls, all wearing white uniforms. There were other people, too—some possibly family members or friends, and several patients wandering around, looking lost or confused. I couldn’t blame them. I tailed the nurse—Nurse Bradley—to what turned out to be a nurse’s station. Stepping around her, I said, “Um, hi.” The elderly nurse behind the desk didn’t bat an eye. She talked to Nurse Bradley, completely ignoring me. Could they even see me?

A Torquere Press Arcana - 13

I stumbled back, nearly fell over a dazed man in a wheelchair who didn’t even look at me, and shook my head. “No fucking way,” I muttered. Then I started laughing. It was either that, or scream. Turning on my heel, I took off down the hall, blocking out the pitiful cries of the lonely and the deranged, blocking out the intercom as another doctor was called to the nurse’s station. Something was beyond wrong—beyond fucked up—here. I skidded to a halt when I reached what I hoped was Lane’s door. I threw it open and stormed inside, almost barreling right over a man at a desk. “May I help you?” Oh, thank God. Someone who could see me. Then he looked up. “Lane?” The man—Lane—pushed back from the desk and stood. “Sir, just calm down.” He reached out for me as he pressed a button on a box on his desk with his other hand. “Margaret, please send Dr. Williams to my office.” “Yes, Dr. Solis.” Oh, no. Oh, hell no. I backed up. Lane rounded the desk. I didn’t wait any longer. Spinning around, I started for the door. “Grab him!” Lane shouted from behind me. A hand seized my arm. I struggled like mad against the burly orderly who’d stepped in front of me. “Let me go, motherfucker!” I kicked him, but he only grunted. Then something sharp stabbed my right bicep. I jerked away and whirled around, nailing Lane in the jaw. It sent him sprawling backward onto his ass. My arms were jerked up behind me, pain shooting up through my shoulders. The orderly began dragging me backward out of the office, but the fight was slowly leaving me as the world grew fuzzy. I thought I heard Lane say, “Don’t hurt him,” but I was already slipping off into La-La Land. *** When I came to, I realized I was on a couch. My head was pounding like mad, and when I turned it, Lane was there, kneeling beside me. Despite the throbbing pain, I jumped up and backed away, never taking my eyes off of him. “What the fuck is going on?” “Kris, please…” He reached out a hand, but I sidestepped to avoid it. Lane looked hurt, but

A Torquere Press Arcana - 14

lowered his arm again. “You hit your head on the doorframe, Kris. You were yelling and

fighting with something.”

I narrowed my gaze on him, carefully keeping my distance. “Who are you?”

“I’m Lane Solis,” he said, sounding as confused as I felt. “Kris? What’s wrong?”

Shaking my head, I started looking around. “Where’s the book?”

“Book?”

“Yeah, the book. The one I was carrying.”

“Oh.”

I looked back at Lane, expecting an answer. What I didn’t expect was the defeated way his

gaze shifted from mine to the journal sitting on the recliner. I skirted around him and grabbed

the book, then went back to lean against the front door. I flipped through it, looking for the

sketch, while Lane remained silent. I glanced up once, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was

staring down at his lap, hands fidgeting.

I found the drawing, walked over to him, and thrust the book in his face. “Care to explain

that?”

Lane looked at the picture, but not at me. He sighed, then shook his head. “I don’t know what

to say,” he said quietly.

“Start with the truth.” I sat down at the other end of the couch and stared at him. He just kept looking at the picture, the journal resting limply in his hands like a prayer book. “How about telling me why your tattoo is in a journal dating from the ‘60s. Or maybe tell me why I get locked in an office, only to get out and find myself thrown back in time.” “Or tell you why the director of Century Hill is me?” he offered.

“That, too.”

Lane sighed and stood, setting the book on the couch. He wandered over to the kitchen and

leaned on the counter, finally meeting my gaze from over the bar. “My name is Lane Solis, Kris. And yes, I was the director of Century Hill Sanatorium.” “You mean Century Hill Asylum.”

“I mean Century Hill Sanatorium. The locals, mostly the kids, changed it to ‘Asylum’

because it sounded spookier.”

“Whatever. Go on.” I sat back, arms draped over the top of the couch, eyes focused solely on

A Torquere Press Arcana - 15

him. “If you were the director, how the fuck do you look like you’re in your twenties?”

“I assume you read some of my journal?”

“It was yours?”

Lane nodded.

“Yeah, I read a bit.”

“So you know about my entries of ‘marked men’ and a curse.” When I nodded, Lane

continued. “One of the doctors here—Dr. Sawyer—wanted to try shock therapy. I wanted a

different, more humane approach.”

“How original.”

Lane rolled his eyes. “Anyway, against my orders, he set up his own room on the third floor.

When I found out, it was too late for many. The man was quite possibly more insane than

most of our patients. I fired him, but not before he had the audacity to curse me.”

“Lane,” I laughed, “seriously. Curses are not real.”

“Oh? Then how do you explain the fact that I haven’t been able to leave this place since

then?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t walk beyond the outer wall, Kris.”

I lifted an eyebrow skeptically. “And if you did?”

He shrugged. “I’d die.”

Okay, that wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. I was expecting him to tell me that there was

some invisible barrier that kept him in, or something equally absurd. I hadn’t expected death, nor had I expected the casual way he handled the whole situation. Lane’s expression turned understanding, as if he knew exactly what was going through my head. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “You’re probably thinking: ‘he’s as loony as the people he treated’.” “Well…” I gave him a rather lopsided grin. What else was I supposed to do or say? Here was a man who blew my mind in bed, who I knew I could fall for without a doubt, and now he was telling me he was bound to this decrepit shell of a hospital? That he truly believed that he'd die if he left?

A Torquere Press Arcana - 16

“Look, Kris… I know this is fucked up, but I don’t know what else to tell you.” “What about your foreman? You mentioned him earlier.” “Todd. He was a teenager when he found this place, about six years ago. He found me, too. Not sure what it was about him, but he took everything I told him without batting an eye. Shocked me, but it also heartened me. It meant that I had someone living to talk to, instead of spending eternity drowning myself in memories I’d rather forget. He agreed to bring me whatever I needed from the city, and he’s been helping me set things up here, to make it more livable.” I let my head fall back and stared up at the ceiling, my brain trying to process everything I’d been told. Okay. Yeah. This was royally fucked up. Beyond fucked up, really. But what did I have to lose? I was a thief by trade, I knew all about hiding from the world. Speaking of… “What’s with the idol? You haven’t said a word about it, and you haven’t even looked at it.” Lane’s smile was a bit sheepish and he looked down at the countertop. “There’s nothing about it,” he muttered. “Todd brings me newspapers, and one day, I read about someone daring enough to steal from the museum. I was immediately intrigued. So…I had Todd hunt the thief down, albeit covertly, mostly armed with a camera.” Oh, shit. “Wait a fucking minute… Does Todd have a growly voice?” Lane nodded. “I’ll be goddamned.” I should have been angry. Hell, I should’ve been spouting flames. “He was the one who hired me!” “It was the only way I could get you here,” Lane said. Now I was confused. “Okay…” Groaning, I shook my head. “Let me get this straight. You used him as a liaison to hire me to break into a temple just to get me to come up here?” “I wanted you.” My mouth dropped open. I was at a total loss for words. “I’m sorry, Kris,” Lane said as he started back to the living room. “Your tenacity, the way you move from shadow to shadow, that determined look you get when you’re checking a place out… It all called to me. I wanted to meet you, to know you.” I looked up as he came to a stop in front of me. “So you had him tail me, risk my life by taking pictures of me?” “And when I first heard you speak, I wanted to hear you say my name…” He knelt down,

A Torquere Press Arcana - 17

bringing his face level with mine. “I wanted to see you as you are, outside of the stealth,

outside of the secretive life you lead.”

“Why?” Concentration was becoming increasingly difficult as Lane’s hands slid up my thighs,

parting my legs slowly. Something in my brain shouted to resist this, but my body wasn’t

hearing a damned word.

“Because I needed to feel you,” Lane whispered.

“Uh huh.”

No, it wasn’t eloquent, but then, how could I expect to be eloquent when those lips were

opening on mine, that pierced tongue pushing into my mouth. I wondered briefly how he’d

managed to get pierced, but that thought evaporated as Lane popped the button on my jeans.

“Lane…”

“Shh… I want to taste you, Kris.” His mouth drifted down my neck, tongue sliding that

barbell along my pulse point. “Without barriers.”

Oh, God… I groaned and reached out, grabbed his head, and tugged him up into a hard,

demanding kiss. Lane thrust his tongue into my mouth, tongue fucking my lips as he worked

my prick out. I shuddered and grunted when his thumb pressed into my slit. The burn was

sharp and sweet, fucking necessary. So what if the guy was loony, so what if he was really

cursed. I needed this, needed him like I needed air to breathe. If it meant never being able to

show him off, well, I could live with that.

Lane pulled away from the kiss and went down, lips dropping around my cock, the suction

sudden and strong. I shouted and bucked up, hands on his head as I fucked his throat,

groaning with the sensation of warm metal sliding up and down the underside of my shaft.

With steady suction, he moved back up to the head, swirling his tongue, and that damned

barbell, just beneath the flare of the crown. My eyes rolled back in my head, my balls drawing

up tight, damn near trying to crawl up inside me. So fucking close…

My name was breathed over the tip and then Lane did something, squeezed the head of my

cock, and one round bead of the barbell pushed right into my slit. Lights sparked behind my

eyelids and I jerked. The second he moved his tongue, I shot, managing to open my eyes just

in time to watch my come cover his tongue and lips.

Sweet fuck, I was lost.

Lane licked his lips and grinned. I looked down to where the heel of his hand kneaded his

crotch through his pants, then back up to his face. He was safe. Hell, he might as well have

been…dead? Whatever. He was safe. Probably.

Sliding off the couch, I shoved him onto his back and started on his pants, Lane lifting his

A Torquere Press Arcana - 18

hips to help me get them down and off. Then I stood and got mine off. Lane stared up at me, gray eyes dark and intense as he stroked that long, beautiful cock. Remembering where he left the lube in the coffee table drawer, I got it and squirted some onto two fingers. Then I held the tube over his cock and he hissed as the cool gel dripped onto his heated flesh. He watched me intently as I tossed the tube and reached back, pushing both fingers deep inside me. “Oh, God,” he moaned. “So hot, Kris.” I just nodded, riding my fingers, needing his cock. I pulled my fingers out and straddled him. Then he held his cock up and I lowered myself down. “Oh, fuck… Lane…” Hands on his chest, I had to fight to remember to breathe. His cock stretched me, filled me fucking perfectly. Lane’s hands curled around my hips and he stared up at me, gaze locked with mine. “Come on,” he urged, rolling his hips just a little. “Ride me, Kris.” “Fuck, yes.” Sitting up, I shivered when my weight drove his prick deeper. Then I started moving, grinding back and forth. Lane never looked away, just kept that same look as he anchored his feet and began meeting my moves, hips rocking up, hands pushing and pulling my body in counterpoint to his. His thrusts grew stronger, quicker. “Kris…” I nodded and sped up my movements, wanting—willing—him to come inside me. It seemed to be the permission he’d been waiting for. With a shout, Lane arched his back, slamming up as his cock pumped load after hot load deep inside my body. I shuddered and groaned, and a few seconds later, I was coming again without a single touch, spurting across his chest. Not giving a damn about the mess, I collapsed on top of him, face buried in the crook of his neck. I didn’t know what the hell I was getting myself into, but I’ve never ignored my gut feelings before, and I wasn’t about to start. Despite the fact that I had no idea what to do with a man the world didn’t even know existed anymore, I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. “You’re awfully quiet,” Lane said quietly, hands sliding lightly up and down my back. I kissed his shoulder and rose up, both of us letting out groans at the loss. Settling on my side, I faced him. We stared at each other silently, neither one of us making an attempt to be the first to speak. Guess it was left up to me. “I don’t know what to say to all of this.” “I understand.” “But…I’m trying to accept it.” Lane nodded and smiled slightly. “Thank you.”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 19

Shrugging, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. “It’s not every day you fuck a

guy, only to find out later that he really shouldn’t exist.”

He chuckled. “I’ll give you that.”

“So…where does this leave us, then?” I asked, looking over at him.

Lane was quiet for several minutes, so long that I began to wonder if this was all a huge

mistake. Then he rolled his head toward me. “I can’t leave here, Kris. I can never walk beyond

the outer walls.”

“I know.”

“I’m lonely. When I saw your story in the paper, when I saw the video clips Todd made, I

knew I wanted to meet you. I prayed for a miracle, that you wouldn’t think I was a flake.”

“I do think you’re a flake,” I said. I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. Instead, I rolled

over and rose up until I was hovering over him. “But then again, so am I.” Lane’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “You really think I’m gonna run off and brag about the hot doctor I fucked, only to have to people think I’m the loony one?” “I really hope this isn’t your idea of trying to reassure me,” he said dryly. I grinned and leaned down, taking a slow, deep kiss. “Nah, but I do think we’re getting too

damned mushy for our own good.”

Lane laughed, the sound filling the room. “You, my friend, are a unique character.”

“I try.”

***

I said it didn’t bother me. Or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself, what I tried to tell

Lane. But after spending two weeks with a man who, for all intents and purposes, was dead, I began to realize two things: one, I was going to go crazy just from the eerie quiet, and two, I was falling. Hard. In two weeks, I still hadn’t formally met Todd, and part of me was grateful, considering he was the one who’d got me into this in the first place. Granted, it all led to me being with Lane, but I still wasn’t keen on the idea of meeting the gorilla-cum-handyman. And then there was the silence. It was deafening. That’s the only way I could describe it. It would hit me the most in the dead of night, no pun intended, and it wouldn’t let up until the sunlight poured through the

A Torquere Press Arcana - 20

bedroom window. I had to walk. I couldn’t just sit around anymore. I’d taken time off, spent the entire two weeks here without leaving. I sat down on the couch and pulled on my shoes. Lane walked into the room, fresh from a shower. His hair clung to his chest, droplets of water shining under the overhead light. “Wanderlust again?” he asked as he dried his hair with a towel. “Yeah. I’m going nuts just sitting around, and I have to admit that I’m intensely curious about this place.” I looked up at him, eyes narrowing. “I’m not gonna get locked in another office and find myself in nineteen sixty-something again, am I?” He laughed and walked over to me. He pushed me back and straddled my thighs, dropping his towel behind him on the floor. “I honestly can’t promise that. Want me to go with you?” I wasn’t sure about the whole time-shifting thing, but Lane’s presence was at least somewhat grounding. “Sure. Who better to act as tour guide than the director?” I said with a wink. “Exactly.” He leaned down and gave me a kiss. “Let me finish getting dressed and I’ll be at your service.” I couldn’t stop the grin. “Careful, doc. That could have possibilities.” “I see.” Lane slid slowly off my lap and I got a good glimpse of dark hair barely visible beneath the unbuttoned, half-unzipped pants. “It does have possibilities.” I got up and followed him into the bedroom, stopping to lean against the doorframe as he dressed. “Just out of sheer curiosity,” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets, “how the hell did you get your tongue pierced if you can’t leave here?” Lane’s answer was somewhat muffled as he pulled on his shirt, but I managed to make out something about a…brother? Lane tugged the shirt down and said, more clearly, “Todd’s brother works in a tattoo parlor. He came here to do it.” “Convenient.” He shrugged. “We had to tell him that I was too busy to leave, and he kind of balked at a house call, but the prospect of money seemed to do the trick.” “So why the tongue? The tat I can kinda understand.” “Todd has his pierced,” Lane muttered. Just before he turned away to sit on the bed, I swore I saw a blush. “I see.”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 21

“It was a fluke,” Lane defended as he put on his shoes and socks. “Todd was drunk and

wanted to know what it was like to kiss a guy.”

“Considering I’m with you and he isn’t…”

Lane nodded. “Exactly. He said it wasn’t horrible, but he’d ‘stick with chicks’ as he put it.”

“So, I don’t have to worry about him, right?”

He looked up and smiled. “Nope. I’m all yours.” He stood and walked over to me, and just

like that, he was in my arms again.

“Mmm,” I hummed, kissing his neck as he tipped his head to the side, “I can live with that.” Lane’s arms went around my neck and I almost gave in. Then common sense slapped me into reality. I chuckled and pulled back to look at him, one eyebrow raised. “If we don’t stop now, we won’t ever get out of the bedroom.” Lane grinned. “So true.” He gave me a quick kiss and stepped back. “After you,” he said with a grand sweep of his arm. Leading the way, I got us out of Lane’s apartment and to the stairs in the lobby. Then I realized I had no clue which way to go. I turned to Lane and he just laughed before starting up the stairs. Okay, so maybe I had ulterior motives, yet again, in just wanting to watch that sweet ass move in front of me. Still, I honestly had no idea where we were going, so yeah, he was leading. “Like I said before, the second floor is full of cleaning and remodeling stuff,” he explained as we reached the second floor landing. “It’s not too much different from the first floor, really.” I nodded, peering into one of the rooms. Like the patient rooms downstairs, this one was bare, with only the skeletal bed frame and a chair. “Were the rooms this bad when this place was open?” “What do you mean?” I glanced over at Lane. “Well, look at the rooms. People came here because they had mental

issues, like depression, right?”

“Among other things.” Lane leaned against the wall beside me, arms crossed. “Go on.”

“This place is depressing.”

“You’re also looking at it the wrong way.”

Brow wrinkling, I stared at him. “What do you mean? How else am I supposed to look at it?”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 22

Lane sighed and leaned his head back, eyes closed. “Imagine, if you will, being so utterly devastated, so utterly depressed, that death is the only viable alternative you can think of. Imagine not having full control of your mind, and feeling as if the entire world is out to do you harm, or worse.” When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “Now imagine coming into a place that’s safe and clean. A place with no distractions, with people who can help you when no one else even understood.” Okay. I was beginning to see his point. I nodded. “All right. You got me there. Put like that, it makes sense, I think.”

“So see? You have no major mental issues that would warrant a place like this.”

“No major issues? You saying I do have issues?”

Lane chuckled. “Well, I’d say there’s certainly something there, or else you wouldn’t have

become a thief.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but one look from Lane had me shutting it again. “Okay. You

have me there, too.”

He just grinned.

“So. What’s upstairs?”

The grin faded. “Too many memories.”

“It’s where the doctor had his experiments, right?”

Lane nodded. “Yes. I haven’t been up there in…well, a long time.”

“Why not?”

He looked up at the ceiling, as if he was trying to see right through it. “Because I can feel

him.”

“His ghost?”

“Or the residual energy,” Lane said quietly, still looking up. “I’d never believed in ghosts until

I realized I couldn’t leave here.”

“So what exactly are you?” I asked, closing the patient room door.

A Torquere Press Arcana - 23

Lane shrugged. “I don’t know. I can eat, I can feel, just like any normal, living person. But…I haven’t aged, and I can’t leave here. Yet people can see me.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything. Lane looked over at me and smiled. “Don’t feel bad. Yes, before you, I was lonely, but now…” “And now?” I stepped in front of him and his arms slid around my waist, pulling me up against him. “Now, I’m not lonely anymore.” He tugged me close for a light kiss. “I’ve got you.” Nodding, I dove back in for another of his addicting kisses, but Lane stiffened suddenly. “What?” “Did you hear that?” Hiking an eyebrow, I just stared at him. “Hear what? Lane, I think you’re-“ “Shh.” He put a hand over my mouth, but his attention wasn’t on me. I reached up to pull his hand down and Lane slipped away, out from between me and the wall. What the hell? “Lane?” Ignoring me, he started up the stairs to the third floor, taking them two at a time. I hurried after him, figuring he knew what he was doing. Lane seemed as if he was in a daze, and when we reached the third floor, I had a damn good idea why. Unearthly, muffled screams echoed through the building and Lane took off, bolting down the right hallway. I ran after him, the screams growing louder, more terrified, as we neared the end of the hall. We reached the last room on the left and Lane flung the door open. The impact was enough to shatter the small glass window in the door and shards rained down onto the white tile floor. I skidded to a stop and witnessed a nightmare in the making. I barely registered Lane shouting my name as he flung himself at the “doctor”. My brain only processed the drill in the doctor’s hand, the wide-eyed look of sheer terror on the patient’s face, and blood pooling on the floor beneath the table. As Lane tackled the doctor, I went after the patient. From behind the cloth gag lodged in his mouth, he was still screaming, entire body shaking. I fumbled with the buckles on the straps, all the while trying to block out the hellish sounds around me. I caught split-second glimpses of Lane and the doctor, each one getting several good hits in at the other. Then I heard the drill. My fingers slipped on the last strap, slick with blood.

A Torquere Press Arcana - 24

By the time I got the strap loose, the patient had stopped moving. With dread settling in the pit of my stomach, I stood slowly. Those wide, horror-filled eyes were glossy. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t screaming. “Kris!” I spun around just in time to see the gun pointed straight at me. A second later, Lane took the drill to the doctor’s chest, but not before the deafening shot was fired. It took a few seconds for my brain to catch up. The doctor and I hit the blood-slicked floor at the same time. The drill dropped and Lane was catching me before my head connected with the tile. “Oh, God. Kris!” Lane pushed the hair from my eyes. His were wide, disbelieving. “Don’t do this, Kris,” he begged. “Don’t leave me. Please, God, don’t leave me.” *** “I should be dead.” They were the first words I could form. Even before I opened my eyes, I knew I was still here, still in my body. “Kris?” Lane sounded frantic. “Kris!” I felt his arm slip under my shoulders, Lane lifting the upper half of my body. I blinked up at him, utterly bewildered. “Why the hell am I still here?” I looked down and touched my chest, right over my heart, where the bullet had gone. There was nothing there, not even a scratch. “I don’t understand.” “Neither do I,” Lane said quietly. He sounded relieved now, albeit just as confused as I. “Can you sit up by yourself? I’ll go get a rag to wash you off.” “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” I grunted as I leaned back against the couch. I was still covered in blood, though apparently Lane had thought to put a sheet down on the couch before he put me on it earlier. What the hell had happened? I should have been dead… Lane returned with a warm, wet washcloth and started wiping my arms and face and neck. “Your clothes are a lost cause. Need help getting them off?” I shook my head and pulled my shirt off, then somehow managed to get my boots and jeans off as well. Fuck. Nothing really hurt, so much as I felt as if I’d been put through the wringer a few times. I had absolutely nothing in the way of energy. Once I was naked, Lane washed the rest of me. I hated to watch, but I had no choice. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw a pair of terrified eyes staring up at me. I must have dozed off, because Lane was suddenly shaking me.

A Torquere Press Arcana - 25

“Kris! Wake up!” I jolted awake, the scream still echoing in my mind. My throat was raw, and only then did I realize it had been me who screamed. I slumped back onto the couch and broke down. It doesn’t matter how strong a man is, how tough he acts. When a man sees nothing but terror in the face of someone, someone who’s screaming for help, only to see that last stare when the person dies, it fucks him up inside. Rolling over, I dry-heaved, my gut clenching as tears rolled down my face. Lane was right there, helped me to stand, and somehow got me to the bathroom. There, I collapsed to my knees, hands gripping the toilet bowl, and threw up several times before the pain finally stopped. I fell back onto the bathroom floor as Lane flushed the toilet. Then he knelt down and pressed a wonderfully cold washcloth to my forehead, wiping my face with it. “Can you make it to the bed?”

“I don’t know. I think so.”

He helped me up and together we made it to the bedroom. Lane eased me onto the bed,

stripped, and joined me. I immediately curled around him, needing his presence like the earth

needed water.

***

“Hey.”

Something nudged gently at my shoulder. I groaned and rolled a little, peering up at Lane

sleepily. “Hey.”

He smiled and smoothed his fingers over the side of my face. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“You look a hell of a lot better than you did, though.”

“That’s not very encouraging,” I grumbled. I rolled fully onto my back and rubbed my hands

over my face. At least I didn’t feel so damned sluggish anymore. “What the hell happened,

Lane?”

Lane bit at his bottom lip and wrinkled his eyebrows. “I don’t know, to be honest. One

minute I was beating the hell out of Sawyer, and the next…” His words trailed off and a

pained look crept over his face. “The next, you were on the floor with a bullet in your heart.”

“I should be dead.” I’d lost count of how many times I’d said that, how many times I’d

A Torquere Press Arcana - 26

thought it, but it was true. I should have died in that room.

Lane nodded. “For all intents and purposes? Yes.”

“For all intents and purposes?” I sat up, propping myself up on my elbows. “Lane. I was

shot in the chest—in the heart! And yet I’m here and look…” I shoved the sheet down off

my chest. “Nothing. Not a hole, not even a fucking scratch!”

“I don’t know!” Lane jumped and started pacing, chewing on his thumb. “I just don’t fucking

know, Kris. I’m sorry.”

“Hey…” I got out of bed and went to him, pulling him back against me as I rested my chin on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t bitching at you. I’m just…confused. But I’m not upset with you for anything.” Lane sighed and leaned back into me, one of his hands covering mine where it rested on his

stomach. “I know. And I’m sorry, too.”

“Come back to bed?” I whispered.

“You sure?”

Brow wrinkling, I turned him around to face me, but didn’t let him get away. “Of course I’m

sure. Why would I not be?”

Lane shrugged, looking down at my chest, his fingers playing with the light dusting of hair. “Guess I’m just feeling a bit guilty for bringing you here.” He looked up at me, gray eyes full of concern. “What if you can’t leave, Kris?” “What do you mean?”

“What if…you’re stuck here, like I am?”

That thought had occurred to me, though I didn’t quite want to dwell on it. “Then I’m stuck

here, I guess.”

Lane looked skeptical. “That’s it?”

“Well, if I am, then there’s not exactly anything I can do about it.”

His head dropped to my shoulder. “Good point,” he muttered.

“Besides…” I slipped a hand under his chin and lifted his head back up to see his face. “I

think I can handle it, given the company.”

The smile he gave me made things seem less dire. I leaned in, kissing him softly. I always liked

A Torquere Press Arcana - 27

living on the edge; it made life interesting. This was no exception. Yet in this, I somehow skirted the line between life and death, and given that I was already falling hard for Lane Solis, I couldn’t quite bring myself to give a damn anymore. I took another kiss, and Lane opened to me, moaning as I plundered his mouth. So what if I was technically dead? My body sure as fuck hadn't noticed. My cock pushed against his, both of us hard as stone. I twisted and got him onto the bed, then pulled away. “Want you,” he said, voice gone husky as he started working his clothes off. “Get naked, babe.” I got the lube out of the bedside table and once he was undressed, spread out before me, I crawled onto the bed between Lane’s legs. He rested his thighs on mine, those muscular legs parting even farther as I leaned forward, hovering over him for a long, slow kiss. Being a thief, I was good with both hands and I managed to get the lube open and some on two fingers without missing a beat. Then I pushed them inside him, Lane moaning into my mouth as I worked my fingers deeper. “Kris…” “Right here.” I pulled my fingers out and gave my cock a few good strokes to slick it, then I lined up and pushed, groaning as Lane’s body pulled me in. “Oh, God.” Lane’s moans were music to my ears, his breath blowing hot across my lips as I sank deep inside him. “Kris.” I nodded, withdrew until just the head was left, then thrust back in. “Kris!” Lane’s fingers dug into my biceps as he jerked, hips lifting to meet me as I thrust in and out. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” he panted, body beginning to shake. “Oh, fuck.” “Come on. Come for me, Lane.” Lane’s eyes widened and he bucked up, fucking himself hard on my cock as shot over his stomach. His ass clamped down tight, drawing a deep growl right out of me. God, I loved this man. “Fuck!” I kissed him hard, thrusting my tongue between his lips as I pumped his ass full. Lane writhed beneath the assault, keening and shaking long after we’d both begun to come back down. Breathless and a bit dazed, I eased out, dropping onto the bed beside Lane. He promptly wrapped himself around me, curling close. His breathing steadied, and I stroked his hair as we lay there in silence. It was only then that I realized how silent the place was, how peaceful it felt. It no longer felt

A Torquere Press Arcana - 28

as if there was someone or something watching and waiting. Maybe our encounter upstairs with the infamous Dr. Sawyer had laid the spirits here to rest. But that still didn’t explain what had happened. It still didn’t explain why I was still here, when I knew for a fact that a bullet had hit my heart dead-center. “You’re quiet.”

I thought he was asleep. “Just thinking.”

Lane shifted a little and looked up at me. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not sure what else there is to say,” I said with a sigh. Something hit me then. “Wait a

minute.” I sat up and rolled Lane onto his stomach, much to his surprise. “Holy shit.”

“What?” He looked at me from over his shoulder.

“It’s gone!”

“Huh?”

“Your tattoo, Lane! It’s fucking gone!”

He blinked and remained silent for several minutes. Then he got up and went to the closet.

Opening it, he turned his back to the full-length mirror and looked over his shoulder. “Oh, my

God…”

Kris stared, not quite understanding exactly what was going on. “What the hell…?”

Lane shook his head, eyes wide.

“What exactly happened when you found Dr. Sawyer before, when this place was still

running?”

“I fired him,” Lane said, looking even more confused than before. “Why?”

“Are you sure he left, Lane?”

He was quiet for so long that I began to wonder if he’d even answer. Then he shook his head

slowly. “No. I’m not.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” I got up and went to him, watching in the mirror as I slid my

hand over the small of his back, where the tattoo of the Death card had been. How could a tattoo disappear? “I know this is going to sound really fucked up-“ “Kris. Think about what’s happened in the past twenty-four hours alone. Do you honestly think anything you have to say can surpass what has happened on the weirdness scale?”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 29

He had a point. I shook my head. “Guess not.”

“What’s your theory?”

“Somehow, for some reason, whatever curse you were under…” I looked him in the eye. “Is

gone.”

Lane didn’t look convinced, but he surprised me when he said, “There’s only one way to find

out.” He turned and started out of the bedroom, still naked.

“Lane!” I caught his arm just as he reached the door leading out into the hospital hallway.

“What happens if I’m wrong?”

“I spent decades with nightmares, remembering the screams, Kris. Sawyer is gone, destroyed.

Maybe my curse is as well.”

He opened the door and walked out, leaving me standing there, stunned. My feet finally

caught up with my brain and I hurried to catch up with him.

“I can’t do this, Lane.”

Lane stood with the front door of the hospital open, the fading sunlight pouring into the

lobby. Had it really been that long? I didn’t even know what day it was anymore.

“You can’t leave me, Lane,” I said, putting a hand on his bare shoulder.

He didn’t look at me and instead stared at the gate that separated us from the rest of the

world. “I’m not leaving you, Kris.”

I watched him walk away, then forced my feet to move. I didn’t like this. There was no telling

how Lane’s “experiment” was going to go over. I wasn’t fond of the idea of losing the man

after finally admitting that I was falling in love.

“Lane, wait.”

Lane stopped and looked over his shoulder at me, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “Yes?”

It was now…or possibly never.

“I…” I raked my fingers through my already-thoroughly disheveled hair. “Before you do this,

I just want you to know that…” I looked away, counted to three, then looked back at him.

“That I love you.”

He smiled and turned, heading back to me. “Really?”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 30

I nodded. “Yeah. I suck at this mushy shit, I know, but…yeah. I do.”

“Cool.” Lane leaned close, lips barely brushing mine in a kiss. “Love you too, Kris.”

“Then don’t do this.”

“I have to. I have to know.”

He turned away and this time I didn’t stop him as he went to the main gate. He pressed a

button on a rusty box to the side and somewhere, a mechanism clicked and the gate opened slowly. Lane looked back at me, then held out one hand, beyond the perimeter of the wall. I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen, but I was relieved when nothing did. I walked up to him and rested one hand on his shoulder. Then I slid my hand down to his and entwined our fingers. “Together?”

“Yeah.” He smiled over at me. “Together.”

Then we stepped out.

***

Three years later… “Lane?”

“In the shower, love.”

Keeping the movie tickets behind my back, I opened the bathroom door. “Hey, gorgeous…”

Oh. Hello.

Lane was in the shower, the clear plastic shower curtain doing absolutely nothing to hide the

sculpted body behind it. He tipped his head back, fingers sliding through his hair as he rinsed it. My gaze followed the water as it cascaded down his chest, his torso, and finally to the dark patch of hair that framed the most beautiful cock in the world. Before I really knew what I was doing, I was undressed and walking to the shower. Lane drew back the curtain, smiling as I stepped in. I slipped my arms around his waist as he draped his over my shoulders, and I took a long, slow kiss. Lane hummed into my mouth, hips rocking just a little as we both began to harden. “I got the tickets,” I whispered, mouth moving over his neck as he tipped his head back. “What time?”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 31

“Eight. It’s ten after six right now.” There was a steady pressure on my shoulders, but I sure as hell didn’t need any encouragement. I went down on my knees, kissing my way down his stomach, licking away water to get to the taste of Lane beneath. His hands massaged my shoulders, moving up to cup my neck as I worked lower, exhaling over the base of his cock. Lane shuddered, groaning softly. “Kris…” Looking up to meet his gaze, I lifted his left leg up to rest his foot on the side of the tub. Lane stared down at me, need making his eyes a dark gray. I tilted my head a little and twisted, coming up under him to lick his ass. “Kris!” I heard his hand hit the bar on the right, then his other came down, lifting his left ass cheek. Smiling, I dove in, pushing my tongue up his ass. Lane moaned, other knee bending a little as he bore down. I reached up and started stroking his cock slowly, tongue plunging in and out, licking the puckered skin. He taste like soap and water; I wanted Lane’s flavor, though. Pulling back, I turned him around and bent him forward. Lane braced his hands on the shower wall and backed up, ass out just for me. I gripped the cheeks, kneading and parting them, loving the way his asshole opened just the slightest bit with every pull. Then I went to it, shoving my tongue up his ass as far as I could. Lane cried out, entire body shaking as I feasted on him. Beneath the soap and water, I found him—musky, masculine, fucking perfect. But I needed more. I needed inside. Rising up, I kissed the small of his back, right over the top of the oval surrounding Death. The tattoo had been our choice, to replace the one before it; I had its twin on the small of my back. As I stood, I reached up to the soap dispenser—where we put the bathroom lube—and pushed the button, getting a nice big amount on my fingers. Then I circled his hole, sliding them in as Lane rocked back. God, he was fucking hot—tight as he’d been that first night. I worked my fingers in and out, kissing his back and shoulders, loving the way he moaned and panted, wrapping my name in the sounds. The water rained down on us, warm and slick, adding an ambience to the moment that no stupid sound machine ever could. I pulled my fingers out slowly and lined up. “Ready for me, babe?” Lane nodded, reaching back with one hand to curl his fingers to my hip. “Please.” Eyes closing, I sank into him, both of us groaning as my cock filled and stretched him. “Goddamn, Lane…”

A Torquere Press Arcana - 32

“Uh huh,” he panted, pushing back. “Come on, Kris. More.” He wiggled his hips at me,

fingers flexing into my skin.

I withdrew until just the head remained, then thrust back inside, hips slamming against Lane’s

ass. He shouted and started fucking himself on my cock, my hands guiding him as I thrust

over and over, driving us both to the edge.

“Kris!” Lane’s hand left my hip and I felt him shudder as he started jerking off, bicep flexing

as his fist worked his cock. “Don’t stop.”

“Not going to,” I grunted. “Ever.” I rammed inside him and Lane yelled my name, ass

squeezing my prick like a vise as he shot. “Lane!” Several quick, hard thrusts and I pumped

his ass full, load after load shooting deep.

Breathless, I slumped against him, relying on Lane’s strength to keep us upright. He turned

off the water after a few seconds and nudged me gently.

“Hey. Let’s get to the bed,” he said. “We’ve still got a bit before the movie.”

“Yeah.” I nodded and licked my lips, mourning the loss of tight heat as I pulled out of him.

Lane turned around and met me in a kiss, our tongues stroking leisurely, lazily.

He ended the kiss and grinned, pulling back the shower curtain. “So, what movie are you

dragging me off to tonight?”

“Some horror remake,” I said coyly as we dried off.

“Oh?”

I wandered into the bedroom, tossing my towel into the dirty clothes basket by the closet

door. “Yeah. Something about a doctor in a mental hospital who goes insane. Century

Hill…something. They say it’s based on a true story.”

“What?” He grabbed my arm and spun me around, the smile lighting up his entire face. “It’s

done!”

“Hell, yes! We, my gorgeous, beloved Dr. Solis, are going to the premiere of Century Hill

Asylum.”

“Woo!” He lifted me and tossed me onto the bed, coming down on me for a hard, happy kiss.

I grinned up at him when we came up for air. “I can’t believe Todd actually found a

screenwriter willing to do it. I’m glad I let you talk me into this.”

“So am I,” Lane said, smiling wide. “Oh, speaking of Todd… He’s bringing his girlfriend—

A Torquere Press Arcana - 33

Kate—over for dinner tomorrow.”

“Which one is Kate?”

“The brunette.”

I hiked an eyebrow. “Then who was the blonde last week?”

Lane’s face scrunched a little. “Umm, Kelly? Crystal? Hell, I can’t remember.”

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing so hard, we both shook. “That man is gonna get his ass

burned bad, and so not in a good way. Women aren’t stupid; they’ll catch on.”

Lane lowered his head, nuzzling my neck. “He’ll learn. One of these days.”

“Um hmm…” I tilted my head a little, giving him more room.

“Kris…what about the movie?”

I would have answered, but my attention was focused solely on the way his tongue traced the

curve of my neck slowly. His breath was hot, every exhale making me shiver as he neared the

nape of my neck. I wanted him everywhere. Again.

“Turn around, babe.”

Pulling back, he grinned down at me before turning, his thighs straddling my head. Lifting my

legs, he rested his arms behind them, essentially raising the lower half of my body. It kept my

legs spread wide open for him, leaving me at his mercy. But I was too occupied to care.

I angled his cock back, licking the sweet drops from the tip. Lane groaned and his hair tickled

my inner thigh as he rested his head against it. He scooted back a little and I was able to get

him fully into my mouth. Lane’s cock slid along my tongue and his flavor filled me. I grabbed

his hips and pulled down, relaxing my throat as I took him in completely.

“Fuck,” he hissed, breathless and shaking in my hands. “Kris…”

I swallowed.

Lane shouted and started fucking my throat, cock plunging in and out with quick strokes. I

dug my fingers into his hips, my own lifting, begging for him to touch me. Lane got the hint and wet warmth suddenly enveloped me. I moaned loudly around his cock as he sucked mine down, pierced tongue fucking my slit every time he rose back up. God, I was so fucking close.

I felt him slip a finger into his mouth, then two. Then he let my cock slide out and he moved,

A Torquere Press Arcana - 34

pulling away from me. Just as I was about to protest, he spun around and knelt between my legs, shoving them up to my chest. Folded in half, my ass in the air, I looked along my body and watched Lane’s tongue as it neared my hole. Fuck… My eyes rolled back as he pushed his tongue deep inside me. The barbell grazed the sensitive skin around the outside, then along the inside, the sensation erotic as hell. I’d never felt anything like it. Easing back, he flicked the outside again—short strokes that caused the ball of his barbell to skate over my asshole, pressing in just enough to drive me insane. “Sweet fuck…” I scrabbled for something to hold onto, anything. Finding his legs, I dug my fingers into his thighs. Need built slowly but surely, working its way along my spine, through my groin. “Lane,” I warned, eyes opening to fasten on his. Without missing a beat, he did something to my asshole—tongue rapidly flicking it, or something—and I was gone. I screamed his name, entire body jerking wildly as I shot my come all over my chest and face. Lane lowered my ass and thrust inside, cock filling me, stretching me wide open before my orgasm was even over. I was wound tight, knowing goddamned well that I could come again before he was done. He leaned over me, my legs wrapped tight around his waist, and shoved his tongue into my mouth just as he slammed his cock into my ass again. My hands flew to his head, fisting in his hair as the kiss turned hard. Lane pounded me into the bed, hips ramming me hard and fast. He slid his hands under me and gripped my shoulders from beneath. It changed the angle somehow and allowed him to go deeper. My breath left me altogether as his cock pierced my body over and over, deep and relentless. He bit my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, flavoring the kiss with the sweet, coppery taste. I sucked on his tongue and several forceful thrusts later, he was coming, cock pulsing deep. It was enough to send me over the edge again and wet heat spread between our bodies. I barely remembered him pulling out. One minute, he was literally fucking me senseless; the next, he was beside me, tugging me close to him. I curled right in, brain still trying to regain its normal function. It was more than I could say for my body. I was limp and sore, but the ache was delicious. “You okay?” he asked quietly, hand stroking my hair. “Uh huh.” I managed to move my head just enough to look up at him, and grinned. “Oh, fuck yes.” *** The theater was absolutely packed. Horror fans swarmed the place, the majority of them in

A Torquere Press Arcana - 35

line for Century Hill Asylum. Lane was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet beside me, hand squeezing mine tight. No one recognized us. We went into the lobby and bypassed the concessions counter, heading straight for the theater. Stopping long enough to hand the ticket guy our tickets, we continued on to the auditorium. “Come on,” Lane urged. “Let’s sit in the front!” “That’s painful on the neck, you know.” But I let him drag me down to the very front row anyway. It was a long three years in the making, but we did it. No one knew us; no one knew—had even an inkling—that the hero of the movie was, in fact, sitting right beside me now. The lights dimmed after several minutes and the previews started up. By the time the movie actually started, I thought I was going to have to glue Lane to his seat. I let go of his hand and rubbed my hand over his thigh, not giving a damn who saw us. Lane slid down a little, thighs parting for me, his gaze riveted on the screen as the opening credits faded in and out. The movie wasn’t shot on location, strangely enough, due to the owner being some recluse who wanted to preserve the place. Oh, and his lover who was adamant about not showing his face to the entire world on-screen. They made do with a set and outer shots of the hospital itself. We’d moved my bike into one of the outbuildings, just in case. “Oh, he’s cute,” Lane whispered, pulling my attention back to the movie. I studied the silver screen version of Dr. Lane Solis with some scrutiny. “I prefer the real one.” I grunted when Lane’s elbow jutted into my ribs. “Shh,” he admonished. Smiling, I just shook my head and watched the movie. Yeah, it was weird seeing it all on the big screen. I found myself picking out bits and pieces that never happened, but were added for dramatic effect. And while there was no gratuitous sex, it was crystal clear—thanks to a couple of steamy kisses—that the fictional Lane Solis was one-hundred percent queer. Then the actor turned around, shirtless, and a chill ran up my spine. Death stared back at us, drawn in striking, unnerving detail on the small of the actor’s back. Lane’s hand tightened on mine. It had been a terrifying experience, but it was worth it. Just as the card of the Major Arcana signified, we both went through a transformation. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen; but one thing was for certain: I wouldn’t change it for the world.

A Torquere Press Arcana - 36

Century Hill Copyright © 2007 by Mychael Black All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680 Printed in the United States of America.

ISBN: 978-1-60370-098-6, 1-60370-098-6

Torquere Press, Inc.: Single Shot electronic edition / August 2007

Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock,

TX 78680

A Torquere Press Arcana - 37