Page 48 of All Hallows Masque

The voice penetrated the dark fog cast over my mind, and something clanged in my chest.

“Cat.”

Every single part of me ached to respond. I felt the urge in the tangled mess behind my rib cage, felt it deep in my soul, but the darkness clinging to me was sticky.

It refused to let me go.

“I didn’t want to do this,” that vital voice said. “But you give me no choice.Cactus Bengal-Tiger Wallison,I need you to wake up.”

That was enough to pierce the darkness, a splinter of light forming. No, my eyelids had cracked open.

“There you are,” that voice said with breathy relief. “Now, I don’t want you to panic. The situation is completely under control. I’m going to get us out. Okay?”

My head lolled onto my shoulder and everything went dark. I forced my eyes wider to let in more light but the darkness remained.

“How do you know that name?” I rasped, my mouth dry. I tried to see through the all-consuming dark, but that brief sliver of light was gone.

“I don’t,” he answered too quickly.

With a groan, I lifted my head and—inhaled sharply when that crack of light returned. It wasn’t a splinter in the dark. It was a slot in a metal coffin. My breathing hitched, then broke apart. I stretched out my hands, and choked on a whimper when they only raised a few inches before brushing cold, cold iron.

“Alfie—” I gasped.

“Okay, fine,” he blurted, oblivious to my mounting panic attack. “I might have stalked youa little.But in my defence, I’m better at it than the others because you never noticedme.So is stalking really that bad when you never know it’s happening? Surely it doesn’t even count.”

“Pain,” I choked out, pressing my hands against the cold metal, searching, searching for an opening. A way out. I was completely trapped. Kicking my feet out showed they were encased too, and when I tipped my head back there was only pitch darkness in every direction. No escape. I was in an iron coffin. “I need—I need to get out—”

“Shit,” he whispered. “It’s fine, you’re totally fine. We’re gonna get out of here. Promise.”

“I can’t—”

“Fuck, I wish I had my full power right now. I’m right here, I’m right with you.”

“Get me out,” I gasped, broken shards of air clawing up my throat.

“I would if I could, darling woe, but there’s a slight snag.”

“What?”

“I’m, uh, in a matching iron maiden.”

“Iron—oh, god.”

“It would be so good to hear you say oh god under other circumstances. Maybe with a bed instead of a torture device. What’s your accessory of choice? Blindfold? Fluffy handcuffs?”

A laugh burst from my too-tight lungs. “Fluffy—handcuffs?”

“Hey, I’ll never judge you for anything you like. Even if it’s an absurd addiction to fluffy handcuffs. They’d be pink, of course. Goes without saying.”

Another laugh, forcing its way through, creating space for more air. “You’re insane.”

“Nah, you’re thinking of Madness. I’m Pain.”

“Hey,” I choked out, trying to blink through the haze of panicked tears to see through the slit in the coffin. The iron maiden. The thing Pain called atorture device.“He’s not … that insane.”

“Cat.”

“Okay, so he’s really insane,” I rasped, focusing on that slit, ignoring the oppressing cage of iron all around me. No way out. Only a tiny slit for air. “But he’s my insanity.”

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