Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
CASSIE
This place intrigues me. I can’t help it. I love it already and we’ve only just arrived.
Frankie also intrigues me. There is something about him that calls to my soul. He is poles apart from Jack and perhaps that’s why. Secretive, compelling and a hint of danger runs like a thread through the fabric of his depraved soul. I see it. I feel it and I love it.
A shiver passes through me as I regard the stone walls that are held up by the memories of the dark souls who called this their last resting place.
It bleeds of ancient tradition and I imagine the screams of the damned as they begged for their freedom.
Frankie is watching me as if he’s the gatekeeper to hell. Willing me to step into the unknown, promising he will follow.
I glance around me, desperate to explore every crevice and every corner, and Frankie’s voice is sinister in the shadows as he whispers, “What do you think of it?”
“I love it.” I whisper, my fingers trailing against the cold stone, desperate to walk deeper into the heart of the ancient monument.
“If you like the entrance, you’ll love the tunnels.”
“Tunnels?” My ears prick up and he nods, his eyes flashing in the dusky light.
“Come. I’ll show you.”
“What? And give me an unfair advantage.”
I chuckle softly, and his eyes gleam with amusement.
“Perhaps I’m a gentleman.”
“Perhaps you are.”
I’m surprised when he reaches for my hand and I’m even more surprised that I don’t snatch my hand away. Instead, I love the pressure of his skin against mine and am intrigued by the flutter in my heart as he smiles at me with a softness I never would have credited him with.
He tugs me along with him and the entrance soon narrows as we make our way deeper into the space, our torchlight courtesy of the phones in our hand, which acts as our only guide.
Somehow, it’s not so scary with Frankie holding my hand, which should irritate me, but I kind of like it.
There are several doors lining the passage and Frankie explains, “These were the dungeons. They kept the prisoners here and only chucked bread and water through the bars. If the prisoners chose to eat and drink, it only extended their time here. It soon became apparent that their quickest way out of here was to stage a hunger strike and allow their body to shut down.”
“That’s horrible.”
I shiver with revulsion at how cruel life was back then, and Frankie shrugs. “It was a defense strategy from the monks. They weren’t strong enough to fight, so they used their minds instead.”
“Twisted minds.”
Frankie grins, his teeth white against the darkness. “The best kind of mind.”
I roll my eyes as he chuckles and as I follow him, the air is darker to match the shadows as we walk deeper into the dungeon.
At the end is a huge iron door and as Frankie opens it, it creaks and drags against the dirt floor.
“What is this place?” I gaze in awe at the huge room that is different from the rest, and Frankie lowers his voice to a husky whisper. “I read it was considered the ceremonial room. Prisoners were dragged here to repent their sins and try to earn their escape. Through that door are the tunnels leading down to the river. Tradition has it that if they confessed to the watchful monks, they were given a shot at freedom. If they made it to the river, they were free.”
“Did that ever happen?”
I tighten my hold on his hand and his voice sounds loud against the still air. “There are no reported escapes from Rockwell dungeon. None that I have heard of, anyway.”
“But it can be done?” I inject some steel into my voice and Frankie nods.
“Sure. We have tested it and if you know where you are going, it’s pretty easy.”
I’m confused. “Then why weren’t they successful?”
“Because they didn’t know where they were going and were caught before they figured it out.”
“Then what happened?” I’m fearful to even ask and Frankie’s response doesn’t settle my apprehension.
“They were claimed.”
“How?” My mind is spinning as I attempt to decipher his words.
“The monks had centurion guards who were trained in combat. They were also monks, but they used the younger, more able members of the congregation. They dressed in cloaks with masks covering their faces and were shifty as fuck and corrupt of the mind.”
“Go on.” My eyes shine as he reveals the secrets of this place, and I’m surprised when he pulls me a little closer and his husky whisper drags against my ear. “They hunted the thief down and when they caught him, they claimed his soul.”
“How?” My heart is racing as Frankie’s breath dusts my ear and the heat from his body merges with my flushed skin. He is so close – we are close and in the current atmosphere I am surprised at how turned on I am right now.
“The thief was dragged like a trophy back to the ceremonial room and sacrificed on a stone altar to God.”
“Seriously.” I’m horrified and Frankie nods, his head closer as a result of the movement. His fingers clench mine and his body grazes against my thin clothing, causing a rush of heat to spread through my body like a lit fuse.
“They were brutal times, baby girl.”
He lifts one finger to my face and glides it slowly against my skin and, as I stare into his eyes, they sparkle with wicked intention.
“Our claiming is not so brutal.”
“Tell me about it.” My breath is coming faster and my skin tingles where he touches me and his lips brush close to mine as he says huskily, “When the prey is captured, they are chained to their captor. They walk back to the ceremonial chamber and the official declares them as claimed. Then they take the oath of The Claiming.”
“What does that involve?” My voice shakes as I struggle to concentrate because being so close to Frankie is stifling my senses, as well as electrifying them at the same time. It’s as if there is nothing in the world except this man. He is everything and I am struggling with my desire for him to kiss me, deeply, passionately and lustfully.
“They promise to be exclusive for the semester. To uphold the sanctity of the ceremony and face punishment if they break the code.”
“What punishment?”
I shiver as he drags his face across to my ear and the stubble on his chin scratches against my delicate skin.
His words hover as a warning as he whispers, “They find themselves locked in the dungeon until they repent their sins and beg for forgiveness.”
“That’s disgusting.” I whisper, outraged he believes they have the right.
“It’s an effective warning.”
“You’re making this up to suit your own agenda.” I hiss, reality bringing me safely back from the abyss.
“My game, my rules.” He tugs me closer, his hand moving around my waist and pulling me hard against him.
“What’s the matter, baby girl? Are you afraid of the big bad wolf?”
“Are you?” I hiss, hating that I’m loving every second of this and also hating how turned on I am right now.
“I’m afraid of losing.” He confesses and for some reason, it makes me laugh.
“Same.”
As I stare into his eyes, I love the challenge in his, my own reflecting back at him. We both know there is no way in hell I’m not taking this challenge, just to prove that I am better than him.
“So–” He whispers against my lips. “Are you up for the challenge, baby girl, or should I find someone else who isn’t afraid to try?”
“What do you think?” I push him away and drag in a huge gulp of air, effectively breaking the magic hold he has over me.
“Show me the tunnels. Show me the way out, Frankie Majerio, because until I see it for myself, I am agreeing to nothing.”
“And if I do?”
His voice is controlled, uninterested even, and I shrug. “Then I accept your challenge and will see you on the other side of the river.”
“Good answer.” He shines his torch deeper into the distance.
“Come, but word of warning, you’ll get dirty.”
“As if I’m bothered about that.” I scoff and his deep chuckle brings a smile to my face because it appears we are more alike that I ever thought possible.