The Final Rule (8 page)

“Stand.” Jon encouraged Ellis to move back. “Now put your hands on the edge of the tub.” Ellis obeyed. Jon lifted Ellis’s feet.

“What are you doing?”

Jon rested Ellis’s legs over his shoulders. “I saw this in a porn once and I’ve always wanted to try it.”

Ellis adjusted his grip on the sides of the tub. “This is crazy.”

“You’ll like it, I promise.”

“I’m not a pretzel.”

“Nope. You’re not.” Jon nuzzled Ellis’s balls.

“And I’m not into yoga either.”

“Trust me, this is not yoga.” Jon rose up on his knees a few inches, tipping Ellis’s shoulders down and his ass up.

“Shit, I’m going to fall.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Jon. I’m serious, I’m going to fall.”

Jon kissed the base of Ellis’s cock, and said, “You ready?”

“No.”

Jon traced the length of Ellis’s cock with his tongue.

Ellis shuddered. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

Ellis clenched his legs, squeezing Jon’s shoulders. “TV isn’t real life, they have multiple takes. Special effects and—”

Jon took Ellis’s cock to the back of his throat.

“Oh, God.”

Jon hummed.

“I can’t—”

Jon bobbed his head.

“Jon, please, please…” The muscles in his thighs quivered.

Jon let go of Ellis’s cock and it slapped against Ellis’s stomach. “You want me to quit?”

“No. Yes. I mean. Why can’t we just use the bed?”

“Because this is more fun.” He kissed one of Ellis’s balls then the other.

Ellis’s eyebrows went up. “Fun? For who? Me or you?”

“Both of us.” Jon licked a line from Ellis’s taint to the trunk of his cock. “Besides, the bathroom is farther away from the Marsh’s room.”

“So?”

Jon gave the head of Ellis’s cock a quick suck before letting go again. “And I was given explicit instructions to keep down the noise by Mrs. Marsh because she’s a light sleeper.”

Ellis’s mouth fell open. “She did not say that.”

“She did.”

“Liar.”

Jon lifted Ellis’s ass high enough to let him bite one of his ass cheeks. Ellis’s shout was sandpaper and broken glass. Jon lowered him back down. “Believe me now?”

“Okay, okay.” Ellis shifted his weight. “Please put me down now. My arms are going to give out.”

“Ye of little faith.”

“It has nothing to do with faith.”

Jon took Ellis’s cock again and Ellis made a strangled sound. He dug his heels into Jon’s back as he thrust his hips.

“Jon, please…”

Jon swirled his tongue over the head, then pressed it against the slit.

“Jon…”

He did it again.

“God…God…God…”

Jon blew a soft breath across the tip of Ellis’s cock.

Ellis jerked and his arms folded. Water lunged out of the tub, splattering the tile floor. Jon pushed Ellis’s legs off his shoulders. A panicked kick from Ellis landed a heel into Jon’s face. Ellis came up coughing and sneezing water out of his nose.

His wide-eyed look turned into fury and he punched Jon in the arm. “Asshole.”

Jon held a hand over his throbbing eye and laughed. “Hey, I’m the one who got kicked in the face.”

“You deserved it.” Ellis coughed some more and wiped the water out of his eyes. He winced and touched the side of his head.

Jon scooted closer. “You okay?” He went to take a look and Ellis slapped his hand away.

“I’ll probably have a knot the size of a baseball, thanks to you.” He glared and Jon burst out laughing.

“Sure, laugh. I bet you won’t find it so funny when you have to explain to Mrs. Marsh how her bathroom got flooded.”

Jon snapped his mouth shut and looked over the edge of the tub. The floor had been transformed into Lake Lanier.

Whatever Ellis had dreamed about faded and he lay in the dark, his body aching in all the right places.

Outside the window, the wind scraped leaves against the glass. In the short pauses between the gusts, the house settled.

Something was wrong.

Ellis turned on the bedside light and sat up. The sheets in the empty space beside him were still warm.

“Jon?” Was he in the bathroom? Ellis checked. Sopping wet terry cloth squished between Ellis’s toes. He nudged the towels away from the bathroom door so he could open it.

Empty.

A faded strip of light leaked from the gap in the bedroom door.

Ellis grabbed his nightshirt and put it on. Jon’s lay on the floor half under the bed.

There was no one in the hall.

The hairs on the back of Ellis’s neck tingled. “Jon?”

The grandfather clock in the living room ticked. In the kitchen the fridge kicked on.

Ellis felt around the wall until he found the switch. Light washed away the shadows and the living room appeared. Ellis started to head to the kitchen, but a squeak was followed by the slap of wood on wood. He made it to the front door just in time to catch a glimpse of Jon’s naked form move from a patch of moonlight and into a shadow.

Ellis grabbed his coat off the hook and snatched his shoes from the floor. He ran down the steps in the direction Jon had gone. Frost bit Ellis’s toes and the air stung his skin. He struggled to get his shoes on without stopping. When his feet were covered, he ran, but lost Jon to the darkness created by a web of trees.

“Jon?”

Leaves crunched to his right followed by the snap of a tree branch. The patch of woods gave way to a field lit by the moon and stars. The silver light turned Jon into a gray ghost crossing the pasture.

Thick grass crunched underfoot as Ellis ran to catch up. He grabbed Jon’s arm to make him stop and he became a statue of flesh in the night.

“Jon, wake up.” Ellis shook him. “It’s f-freezing out here. Wake up.”

Jon’s slow exhaled turned white past his lips.

Ellis huddled under his jacket but his legs were left to the mercy of the frigid air enhanced by the occasional breeze.

Even asleep Jon should have been freezing.

“You’ve g-got to wake up.” Ellis patted Jon’s cheek. No response. He slapped Jon hard enough to make his fingers sting.

Jon blinked once.

“Damn it.” Ellis pulled Jon by the arm. He took a single step before becoming a statue again.

Ellis tucked his hands under his armpits. He needed to get them out of the cold, but there was no way Ellis could drag Jon all the way back on his own. Going for help meant leaving Jon. If he did that, there was no telling where he might wander and there would be no way of finding him in the dark.

“J-Jon, we r-really n-need to get inside.” Ellis hugged himself.

“The wound.” The words came out in Jon’s voice, were spoken by his lips, but his eyes were not.

The pools of endless black belonged to something old, powerful, and never human.

It cupped Ellis’s jaw and warmth returned to his skin, easing the cramps in his muscles.

“The light enters through the wound.”

A surge of desperation, concern, love, and fear flowed into Ellis.

“The plague is spreading but the light is stronger. It has the power to stop the sickness and heal the infected.”

Sadness welled in Ellis’s soul until his heart ached with every beat.

“Face the darkness without fear.” It caressed Ellis’s cheek with Jon’s thumb. “The plague cannot touch you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Go to the Grove and you will.”

The stranger in Jon’s eyes vanished.

Jon sat on the bed huddled in a blanket while Ellis rubbed his feet.

“Now tell me what I said again?”

“You talked about the light.” Ellis worked Jon’s legs. “Can you feel your toes yet?”

“They hurt. So, yeah. Light. What else?”

“It enters through the wound.” Ellis adjusted the quilt draped over Jon’s shoulders. “And then something about the light heals and it’s more powerful than the darkness.” He went back to rubbing Jon’s toes. “I’m really worried you might have frostbite, the tips are still purple.”

“I’m fine.”

“It looks bad.”

“It’s not frostbite, at least not quite.” His arms jerked and he tightened his hold on the blanket. “Just come up here and sit with me. The shared body heat will help.”

“I’m not sure I have any body heat.” Ellis shivered, but not like Jon. It was like all the cold he didn’t feel when he was sleepwalking hit him all at once. He held open the quilt and Ellis slid in next to him. “Damn…” Jon shuddered. “I can’t stop shaking.”

“Because you’re cold. At least you’re not shaking as much as you were when we first got back.” Ellis barely got Jon up the stairs. Near the door to the bedroom he collapsed and had to crawl the rest of the way. Getting him on the bed had been an Olympic event.

But he was far colder than he should have been.

“Do you want me to run a bath? The warm water might work better.”

“Or it will turn to ice.” Jon laughed.

Ellis leaned back against the headboard, taking Jon with him. He wound up draped over Ellis with his head on his shoulders. Jon’s shivering shook the entire bed.

Ellis rubbed Jon’s arms and back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this cold in my life.” Jon pressed closer. His icy skin leached heat from Ellis. “You’re warm.”

“Not hardly.” His teeth chattered. “You’re just that cold.”

“Take my mind off of it then. Tell me more about what happened.”

“I told you.”

“Yeah, the light and the wound. What about the Grove?”

A chill ran down Ellis’s spine. It had nothing to do with almost freezing to death. “You told me to go there and see for myself.”

“See what?”

“You didn’t say.”

“I can’t believe I don’t remember any of this. Usually I remember something about a dream when I sleep walk. This time it’s all blank.”

Because it hadn’t been him speaking. Ellis pulled Jon’s leg higher so he could rub his thigh.

Jon caught Ellis’s wrist. “What are you not telling me?”

“I’ve told you everything.” Ellis tried to tuck Jon’s hands back down. “You really need to keep your hands between us. Your fingers are cold. I’m worried that—”

Jon forced Ellis to look at him. “Now tell me there’s nothing else.”

“It’s not important.”

Jon stopped him again. “Really?”

“No, it’s not.”

Jon’s grip was ice cold and unshakable. “Talk to me, Ellis.”

He couldn’t twist free, so he gave up. “It wasn’t you.”

“What do you mean it wasn’t me?” Jon let go.

“It was some—I don’t know. It just wasn’t you.” Ellis wrapped the blankets tighter around them. “I can’t explain it. When I looked at your eyes, it wasn’t you looking back at me.” Jon put his head back on Ellis’s shoulder. “It was like whatever makes you
you
had been replaced.”

“Jesus.”

“It wasn’t bad.”

“Wasn’t bad? How can you say something like that wasn’t…Christ.” Jon held Ellis tighter.

“No, I mean, it wasn’t…” He kissed Jon on the top of the head. “It wasn’t evil.”

Jon flinched.

“I probably imagined it.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Ellis dropped his gaze.

Jon cursed. “I could have hurt you.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Ellis cradled Jon’s head. It wasn’t just because he was finally warming up, it was because Ellis wanted to protect him. The thought should have felt ridiculous, but it didn’t.

“How do you know?”

“What?”

“How do you know it wasn’t…dangerous?”

“I felt it. It wasn’t there to hurt you or me.”

“I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.”

Ellis kept rubbing Jon’s back. “You’re not shaking anymore.”

“Still cold.”

But not like he had been. The warmth, the health, the…
life
was returning to him. “So what now?” Ellis said.

“Sleep. I’m exhausted. Then after that, I guess we make plans to do what it said.”

The heavy scent of homemade biscuits flavored the air in the dining room.

Mrs. Marsh stood by the table with a plate of bacon in her hand. “Did you boys find your clothes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jon echoed Ellis.

“I was worried you might not see—” She looked up. “Good Lord, what on earth happened to you two? Did you get into a fight?”

Ellis touched the knot on the side of his head. “Slipped.”

She swung her gaze over to Jon. “And you?”

“He kicked me in the face on the way down.”

She smirked.

Ellis couldn’t shake the feeling that Mrs. Marsh knew exactly what he’d been doing when he took the fall. She went into the kitchen.

“Where’s George?” Ellis said.

“He’s on the phone. The coroner called with a preliminary report.”

The smile on Jon’s face fell. “After last night I’m not sure I want to know what killed Russell anymore.”

Neither did Ellis. But it was no longer a matter of want. It had become a matter of absolute importance.

Jon pulled out a chair. “Here, sit. I’ll go help Mrs. Marsh.”

From the kitchen, she said, “You will do no such thing. Put your tush in that chair and keep it there.”

Ellis covered his laugh with the back of his hand. Jon sat beside him while Mrs. Marsh finished setting out the food.

George came into the dining room cursing. He stopped to glare at Jon before taking a seat next to Eleanor.

“What did they say?” Jon spooned some eggs onto Ellis’s plate, then his.

George looked at Eleanor. She handed him the plate of bacon. “Yes, I told them who you were talking to. Quit acting like it’s top secret.”

“Well?” Jon said.

“I’d rather not say before we eat.” George rearranged the bacon on his plate. “You’d lose your appetite.”

The food made it around the table. For the second time in a week, Ellis was able to eat a full meal. When they were done, George led Ellis and Jon into the living room. They sat on the sofa; George took up the recliner.

“He died of an aneurism,” George said. “Daniels thinks it probably happened when he vomited. That the artery was weak and the strain caused it to rupture.”

“What about the black stuff?”

“She took samples and sent it to a lab in Atlanta.”

“Why did she do that?” Ellis said.