The Vixen’s Deceit – Peculiar Tastes Read Online Nikki Sloane

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
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I remembered vaguely where I’d dropped the skeleton key, but now it was under three feet of water. If I wanted it, I’d have to dive into the cold, murky water.

This is going to suck.

I took a deep breath and plunged under the surface.

The cold needled at my skin, flooding my ears and nose, but I ignored it and splayed my hands out, sliding them across the grate. My fingertips brushed something, and I closed my fist around the key, putting my feet beneath me to stand.

“Tyler,” Chelsea called as I resurfaced. “It’s locked. I can’t get out!”

I slung my wet hair back out of my eyes and plodded over to her, going as fast as the water would allow. Cold shivers racked my body, making my hands shake as I gripped the padlock and slid the key inside the hole.

It fit perfectly, except . . .

“It won’t fucking turn,” I said in disbelief.

Had I done it wrong? Forgotten how locks worked?

I tried again, but the thing wouldn’t budge. Chelsea thrashed in the harness, desperate. She saw the water rising, which was up to my chest now, and was probably thinking about how the metal harness wouldn’t allow her to float.

She pushed my hands out of the way and tried frantically to turn the key herself.

“Maybe there’s another key.” I couldn’t have sounded more unsure, but I didn’t know what else to do. I paddled over to one of the first bodies I’d searched.

“Oh, god. Hurry,” she begged.

When I came up empty, I treaded water and stared up at where I assumed the camera would be. I had to take the emotion out of it, step back, and look at the big picture. What had the guy told me?

It’s important you know you need to save yourself.

Did that mean I wasn’t supposed to save Chelsea? I shook my head, not understanding. I’d been told to find the light hiding inside the evil, but all these bodies had been labelled with sins. How was I supposed to know which one wasn’t just bad . . . but evil?

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, swimming over to the heavyset body of a man only an arm’s reach away from Chelsea. I’d been so worried about missing a small detail that I’d blown right past the obvious. He didn’t have a sin written on his forehead—he simply had the word evil printed there.

“Did you find another key?” Chelsea asked.

I ignored her, focusing on figuring out the rest of the puzzle. Find the light hiding inside the evil.

“Inside?” I questioned aloud.

The back half of the guy’s head was missing, allowing me to see inside his skull and to his mushy brain. It was revolting and . . . Jesus. Was there something in there?

I couldn’t watch as I reached in, pushing my fingers through the soft gooey stuff that felt exactly how I imagined a decomposing brain might feel. I retched but managed to keep from heaving as my fingertips clasped something hard and smooth.

The thing was so slippery with goo, I nearly dropped it. Once I had it free, I swiped my thumb over the shiny surface. It was a . . . Zippo lighter?

“I found it,” I yelled in victory, holding up the small silver lighter to where I suspected the camera was.

But nothing happened.

The infuriating water continued to rise. It was up to Chelsea’s chin now, and she sputtered, tilting her head back to stay above the water line.

“Tyler,” she pleaded. “Help me.”

“I don’t understand.” I was dumbfounded. “I found the light.” What was I missing?

She coughed on a mouthful of water, and the sound of it spurred me into action. Maybe there another way to get her out of the harness. I swam over, grabbed her shoulder with one hand, and flipped open the lighter with the other, keeping it above the water. It was dark in this room, and if I could see the contraption in better light, maybe I could figure it out.

It took two fumbling tries to get the thing lit, but the second I did . . .

All hell broke loose.

Harsh, blinding light flooded the room, and it began to ascend from the pool so rapidly, it was like a strainer being lifted from a pot of water. I couldn’t get my feet under myself in time, so I ended up splayed out on the grate, sputtering as the water rapidly drained away. Exhausted, I squinted and looked up at Chelsea, who looked shell-shocked as she dripped water everywhere.

I’d mentally blocked it out before, but I finally allowed myself to read the word scribbled on her forehead.

Liar.

The door nearest to us burst open, and two men I hadn’t seen before surged toward me. I tried to get them to help Chelsea first, but I was barely functioning and easy to ignore. Hands scooped me up, dragged me to my feet, and then pulled me out of the room, even as I protested.


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