Soul Bound (2 page)

His gaze flicked over me and I prayed the hot weather hadn't
frizzed my hair.  Taming my unruly curls into a sleek sheet of burnished
bronze had not been easy.  But I'd wanted to look good without coming
across like I'd tried too hard, and smooth, sexy hair, tight but not too
obvious black jeans and a simple white peasant blouse had been all I could come
up with at such short notice. 

"I don't remember you being this much of a wuss at
school."

I didn't let the challenge slide.  "I'm still braver
than you, Cain."

The corner of his mouth hitched up into another quirky grin and
his fingers tightened around mine.  "I've told you before, Jess,
people with brown eyes shouldn’t try to tell lies."

A thundering guitar riff tore out of the speakers, filling the
theatre with sound and leaving no chance to protest further or come up with the
kind of sassy reply I wanted to give him.  Acting like a frightened little
virgin wasn't part of the plan.  Okay, so I didn't
actually
have a
plan, but if I did, squirming like a bug under a microscope definitely wouldn't
be part of it.

Nathan turned toward the crowd I had forgotten for a moment, who
were watching and waiting, and I sucked in a shaky breath, released at last
from the prison of his all-seeing, penetrating stare.  He was different
than I'd expected somehow and it was more than just the fact he'd grown into a
gorgeous man and developed a decidedly Gothic taste in clothing.  There
was...
something
. 
Something dark
. 
Maybe something I
should be afraid of
?  

Bright light flooded the stage, not a single beam but many beams,
giving the illusion of dappled moonlight filtering through trees.  The
black stage curtain, adorned with satanic symbols and strange hieroglyphics
began to rise, revealing an area bathed in red light.  In the center,
stood a large object, so big it dwarfed the assistants dressed as executioners
standing beside it. 

Nathan left me at the edge of the stage and walked over to the
rectangular box, making a show of sliding away a large bolt and revealing that
the shape was made up of two equal sized parts, joined by a couple of
hinges.  The heavy looking door creaked open when Nathan and the two
assistants braced their weight against it, their muscles bulging with the effort. 
As the interior of the box was revealed to the light, hundreds of long, sharp
spikes jutting out from the inner walls of the casket came into view.  On
Nathan's count, the men let go of the door.  The sound of screeching metal
drowned out the background music and the casket slammed shut with a force that
shook the stage.

They forced the door open again and two more helpers appeared,
dragging a long, thick rope with a hook secured at each end onto the
stage.  One end was clipped to a large ring welded to the outer edge of
the door, the other attached to the wall of the theatre.  Nathan and his
assistants stepped away from the casket and the rope snapped taut as it took
the strain of the door's weight, keeping it from slamming shut again.

Nathan took a metal baton from one of his assistants and dragged
it over the spikes inside the box, banging the stick around between the prongs
to show the audience that the lethal looking stakes didn't just
look
lethal. 

"This is an Iron Maiden," Nathan announced to the
crowd.  He walked back over to grab my hand and lead me back to the center
of the stage.  "And this beautiful woman, who just happened to be my
high school crush, is going to send me to an almost certain death by locking me
inside."

His high school crush?
  The laughter of the crowd and
a little tug on my hand robbed me of the chance to absorb and savor his
words.  Maybe Nathan hadn't been as immune to me as I'd thought? 
Whatever the truth, I didn't have time now to think of it. 

I followed his prompting and turned to face the casket.  The
back of it had some of the spikes missing, the resulting gap forming a
rudimentary outline of a man.  Nathan stepped into this space, explaining
what he was doing to the audience with every move he made.

Thick chains entered the chamber through holes in either side and
I stepped forward when instructed to lock the shackles welded to the ends
around Nathan's wrists.  Next, he told me to fasten the padlock on his
neck clasp, and I held my breath as I stepped up and reached behind him to
grasp the ends of the thick leather straps and my breasts brushed over his
torso.  Nathan's husky laugh and my shaky hands made the job take far
longer than it should and I couldn't look him in the eye when I pulled
away.  Finally, I shackled his ankles to the bottom of the box.  I
straightened up to face Nathan and await further instruction.  He gave me
another smile and announced loudly, for the benefit of the audience, that I
should step out of the way and keep clear.

His assistants grabbed the ends of the chains protruding through
the holes in the box and secured them to the outside of the Iron Maiden with
padlocks the size of my fists.  The stage lights dimmed, leaving only the
silhouette of the casket and the men flanking it visible against a blood red
backdrop.  A single spotlight found Nathan's face in the darkness,
illuminating handsome features taut with either concentration or fear, I wasn't
sure which.

"As you can see, the rope holding open the door is all that
is saving me from certain death.  My assistants will now set fire to that
rope and, by my estimation, I will have thirty seconds before the flames eat
through the fibers and they are no longer strong enough to keep the door open
and spare my life."

My heart lurched when I saw the fire lick at the rope. 
It's
just an illusion...a silly magic trick
.  And although I knew it, I
couldn’t help but react to the growing sense of peril.  Nathan and his
team had gone to great lengths to ramp up the drama and stoke the fear of the
audience by saturating the atmosphere inside the theatre with tension. I was
being played the same way as everyone else in that room but I just wanted it to
be over and for Nathan to be safe.

"The curtain you see attached to the top of the casket will
now be lowered - for two very good reasons.  First, I am sworn to protect
the secrets of my profession and second, to spare the audience the trauma of
seeing what happens to me if I cannot escape in time."

I raised my eyebrows and shook my head in mock disbelief at his
antics when he grinned at me, determined not to show him that I'd fallen for
the melodrama by revealing my nerves.  As soon as the curtain obscured him
from view and I didn't have to control my reactions any longer, my gaze darted
to the fire consuming the rope, burning hot and fast, at the side of the
stage. 
How long had passed?  Ten seconds...maybe more? 
I
counted silently in my head, my attention torn between the box and the
rope.  Would he get out? 

I tried to laugh at myself but the breath wouldn’t leave my
lungs. 
Twenty seconds.
  The rope was burning too
quickly.  I stared at the curtain hiding Nathan, searching for some sign
that he was at least trying to save his own life.  Something bumped the
fabric near to where his feet would be and I let out a gasp, stupidly relieved
to see that he was making progress. 

Nathan's hand appeared at the edge of the cloth, as if about to
sweep it to one side...when the rope snapped with a loud twang and an explosion
of embers.  

I've always heard that when a person sees something horrific
unfolding before their eyes, it seems to happen in slow motion.  I'd never
seen it during my ten years on the force but I know now that it's true. 
The door seemed to pause for a second before it gave a loud metallic groan and
its immense weight pulled it forward.  My gaze stayed fixed on it for only
a heartbeat longer and then I buried my face in my hands.

I felt as much as heard the moment one huge metal slab met the
other.  The music stopped with a jarring screech, as if someone dragged
the needle across a record, leaving nothing but an echo bouncing around the
auditorium.  Someone screamed and a ripple of nervous laughter
followed. 

"Is he okay?" a voice shouted. 

"Oh my God!" a woman said.  The mumbles of the
crowd swelled and merged, intensifying in volume as lots of people began
talking all at once.

I peeked between my fingers, sure that the trick could not have
gone so badly wrong but equally as sure that nobody would terrify and
traumatize people this way in the name of entertainment.  I looked to
Nathan's assistants for some clue as to whether what had just happened was part
of the plan, but they seemed just as confused and shocked as the rest of
us.  At that moment, I wanted to cry.

Don't be scared.  I'm okay.  I thought you trusted
me?

I span around, looking behind me for the source of the
voice.  A few members of the audience followed my movement, maybe
believing that because I knew Nathan personally, I had some idea of what the
hell was going on.  I turned back to the stage and my gaze was drawn to
one of Nathan's assistants. 

He stared back at me but I couldn't tell if it was him who had
spoken or not.  Too far away to see his eyes clearly through the black
leather encasing the top half of his face, I had no idea why he was staring at
me so intently.   The corner of his mouth hitched up into the smile I
knew all too well and a wave of relief so intense flooded into my limbs that I
thought I might drop to the boards.  A moment later Nathan stepped forward
and ripped his half mask off with a flourish, revealing himself to the
audience.

Upbeat rock music spilled into the theatre again, conveniently
covering the sound of swearing from various members of the audience.  I
had to bite my tongue in order to stop myself telling him exactly what I
thought of him scaring the crap out of me.  But my shock gave way to wry
humor, and then absolute amazement at the enormity of the feat he had just
performed.  The audience forgave him about the same time I did and exploded
into rapturous applause.

Nathan gestured for me to join him in the center of the
stage.  A few expletives I was sorely tempted to hurl at him died on my
lips when he smiled and held his hand out to me.  I reached his side and
he raised my fingers to his mouth to brush a kiss across my knuckles. 

"Forgive me?"

"It's gonna take more than that, Nathan Cain."

His eyelids narrowed slightly as his gaze dropped to my
lips.  "I know that, Jess." 

Nathan tugged me forward and gestured to the audience that they
should applaud me as well as him.  I laughed and tore my hand from his,
elbowing him in the ribs to get him to stop making a fuss of me in front of all
those people.  He gestured to someone behind me and leaned in to plant a
kiss on my cheek, whispering that I should go with his assistant and wait
backstage until the show ended.

I snuck back to watch the rest of the show from the wings, too
hyped up to simply sit alone in the room I'd been taken to.  The stunts,
no matter how visually disturbing, didn't scare me anymore.  Nathan turned
my way often, sending me the occasional smile, his stare loaded with intensity
and a promise of something more to come.

It was only a little later, when I replayed the earlier illusion
in my head and laughed at how afraid I had been, that I realized there was no
way I should have been able to hear him.  The second the thought lodged in
my brain, another, far more significant one shoved it out of the way.  A
heavy sensation settled in the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t breathe.

I really
had
heard Nathan's voice in Seattle.

****

I watched him navigate his way towards me through the after-show
party Nathan had insisted I attend, his gaze fixed on me but his path blocked
often by people wanting to speak to him.  The gaudy stage outfit had gone,
replaced by jeans and a v-neck black t-shirt that enhanced everything it
covered.

Nirvana played in the background and I wondered again if he'd
chosen the music intentionally.  Back in school, after months of sitting
beside him in class without a single word passing between us, we'd seen each
other unexpectedly at a Nirvana concert.  I'd talked my older sister into
letting me go with her and Nathan had somehow materialized in the crowd beside
me.  He'd acknowledged my presence with no more than a self-conscious nod
before turning back to the stage to join me in worship of Cobain.  Our
shared love of the man we both considered to be the second coming of Christ,
turned our previously awkward relationship into a friendship from that moment
on - and a shared grief over Kurt's tragic and untimely death sealed our
bond.  But within months, Nathan had moved away, without so much as a hint
that he shared the feelings I had for him.  

The drink I'd been nursing since the party suddenly tasted sour
on my tongue and I put it to one side.  I needed to stay sober and
focused.  If I didn't get the answers I wanted, or if Nathan simply
thought I was crazy and ran for the hills, I'd have plenty of time - and reason
- to drink later.

Those eyes of his held me in his spell as he drew nearer and the
room faded away again.  Finally he was close enough to touch and it seemed
so natural to lace my fingers through his when he offered me his hand. 
The older woman demanding his attention seemed oblivious somehow to the sensual
heat radiating between Nathan and me and I wanted to plead with her to go away
so I could have him to myself.  As the thought crossed my mind, his thumb
tucked inside our clasped hands and brushed across my palm.   I might
have moaned aloud, I can't swear I didn't.  All I know is that I had to
bite down on my lip when his touch sent an aching ripple through my body down
to my groin and a sudden moist heat made my panties cling to my flesh.  He
turned to me and smiled and I almost believed he knew what he'd done.  His
gaze locked with mine and the ache intensified, throbbing and pulsing in time
with my heartbeat.  I suddenly became aware that the woman had moved
away.  Maybe I
had
groaned out loud.  But I didn't really
care.