lungs, I stared up at the angry guard looming over me. It was the guy with the eye patch and scar, whose bandage-covered nose I had probably broken when I busted out of my first holding cell. His face was reddened and twisted with fury as he glared down at me with his one good eye. A couple of other guards in their sharp suits were driving back the other women, yanking chairs out of their hands and shoving them away from the bars. Most of the ladies fled immediately, two or three screaming in terror, but Iana and Na’man stood their ground.
“You are one stupid girl,” Scar-face said, giving me a kick in the ribs that knocked the little breath in my lungs right back out.
Sara flung herself at him, snarling, but was thrust stumbling back, landing on her ass with a smack loud enough for me to grimace in sympathy. She didn’t have the benefit of my strength or reflexes, and was still dealing with blood loss to boot, but she didn’t look too badly hurt. She winced a bit, struggling to get to her feet, but I hadn’t recovered enough to help her.
“Move!”
I might have said something caustic to the guy if I had the breath for it. Instead, I stayed right where I was, flailing a bit as I tried to figure out how to make my everything stop hurting and get away from the asshole. He grabbed one of my arms and slid me closer, flipping me on my stomach to slap a pair of handcuffs around my wrists before yanking me up to my feet. I stumbled along with him as he pulled me by the arm. Gideon gave me a little finger wave and a smirk as Scar-face dragged me past him. I stuck my tongue out at the necromancer in return since I couldn’t give him a one-finger salute.
The guy pulled me along with him, past a couple more guards keeping an eye on the door who watched with dull curiosity as we passed. He took me into Max’s room, pulling me to one of the upholstered benches. Rather than let me sit on it, he put a foot on the back of one of my calves, sending me to my knees on the carpet, then sat down on the bench himself.
Rude, inconsiderate bastard.
I resettled myself as comfortably as I could under the circumstances, muttering under my breath the whole time. Scar-face didn’t say anything, though he did look a bit too pleased with himself for me to think that whatever Max had in store for me was over yet.
A little while later, the other two guards brought the chairs and stools from the pool room into Max’s room, leaving them next to the door. The flunkies glanced at me curiously once or twice, but for the most part concentrated on their task.
Once it looked like all of the chairs were out, the lot of them shuffled into Max’s room. Two of them stayed on their feet while the rest sat in the chairs, playing with cell phones or staring with obvious boredom into space.
One of them called out to Scar-face. “How much longer?”
“Dunno. Top floor is done, but they’ve still got a lot of ground to cover before they’ll ’ave searched the whole grounds. Pull out a pack of cards or something. We’re going to be here for a while.”
The other guardsmen grumbled a bit, but didn’t argue. The one who had asked how much longer went back into my gilded prison only to return a couple of minutes later with a book in hand. Catch-22. Of course.
Time passed. It got dark outside. The men took turns grabbing dinner from inside. Though I got pretty hungry and thirsty during the wait, I didn’t bother asking for anything and nobody offered to get me anything.
A crackle of static from a radio I hadn’t seen was followed by a voice I didn’t recognize. “We’re clear. Move the chairs to the basement, then report in. Stokes, stay with the girl.”
Everyone but Scar-face got up and cleared out, each of them carrying a couple of chairs. There were three chairs left behind, but I doubted any of them would come back to finish the job. Scar-face—Stokes—had eaten and resumed his seat on the bench, though he didn’t seem very pleased
“You are one stupid girl,” Scar-face said, giving me a kick in the ribs that knocked the little breath in my lungs right back out.
Sara flung herself at him, snarling, but was thrust stumbling back, landing on her ass with a smack loud enough for me to grimace in sympathy. She didn’t have the benefit of my strength or reflexes, and was still dealing with blood loss to boot, but she didn’t look too badly hurt. She winced a bit, struggling to get to her feet, but I hadn’t recovered enough to help her.
“Move!”
I might have said something caustic to the guy if I had the breath for it. Instead, I stayed right where I was, flailing a bit as I tried to figure out how to make my everything stop hurting and get away from the asshole. He grabbed one of my arms and slid me closer, flipping me on my stomach to slap a pair of handcuffs around my wrists before yanking me up to my feet. I stumbled along with him as he pulled me by the arm. Gideon gave me a little finger wave and a smirk as Scar-face dragged me past him. I stuck my tongue out at the necromancer in return since I couldn’t give him a one-finger salute.
The guy pulled me along with him, past a couple more guards keeping an eye on the door who watched with dull curiosity as we passed. He took me into Max’s room, pulling me to one of the upholstered benches. Rather than let me sit on it, he put a foot on the back of one of my calves, sending me to my knees on the carpet, then sat down on the bench himself.
Rude, inconsiderate bastard.
I resettled myself as comfortably as I could under the circumstances, muttering under my breath the whole time. Scar-face didn’t say anything, though he did look a bit too pleased with himself for me to think that whatever Max had in store for me was over yet.
A little while later, the other two guards brought the chairs and stools from the pool room into Max’s room, leaving them next to the door. The flunkies glanced at me curiously once or twice, but for the most part concentrated on their task.
Once it looked like all of the chairs were out, the lot of them shuffled into Max’s room. Two of them stayed on their feet while the rest sat in the chairs, playing with cell phones or staring with obvious boredom into space.
One of them called out to Scar-face. “How much longer?”
“Dunno. Top floor is done, but they’ve still got a lot of ground to cover before they’ll ’ave searched the whole grounds. Pull out a pack of cards or something. We’re going to be here for a while.”
The other guardsmen grumbled a bit, but didn’t argue. The one who had asked how much longer went back into my gilded prison only to return a couple of minutes later with a book in hand. Catch-22. Of course.
Time passed. It got dark outside. The men took turns grabbing dinner from inside. Though I got pretty hungry and thirsty during the wait, I didn’t bother asking for anything and nobody offered to get me anything.
A crackle of static from a radio I hadn’t seen was followed by a voice I didn’t recognize. “We’re clear. Move the chairs to the basement, then report in. Stokes, stay with the girl.”
Everyone but Scar-face got up and cleared out, each of them carrying a couple of chairs. There were three chairs left behind, but I doubted any of them would come back to finish the job. Scar-face—Stokes—had eaten and resumed his seat on the bench, though he didn’t seem very pleased
Similar Books
