The Book Waitress (Book 1, The Book Waitress Series) by Deena Remiel Page B

breast pocket of his suit jacket.
    She could only assume what the syringe contained, and needed to keep the little control she had of the situation for her own sanity .
    “Okay. I’ll come,” she hissed, unfolding from her compacted position on the bed. All the while, she heard Derek’s angry crashes of fist against metal. The p oor man lost his cool and said anything and everything to direct attention away from her. It fell on deaf ears.
    Bart produced handcuffs from his pants pocket and shackled her wrists before escorting her out of the cell. “Now that’s a good lamb.”
    “Camille!” Derek’s frantic voice pained her heart and soul. But he had to think of freeing himself and finding the boy now, not her.
    “Derek, don’t worry about me. D o what you must to stay alive!”
    “Camille! I will find you, and they will pay! Camille!”
    Her name echoed as Bart shoved her down the dark hallway and away from her only connection to life. Victor raised a hand to stop them then used it to grasp her chin. He moved her face side to side. “No worse for wear, I see. That’s good. Very good.”
    They continued down a dizzying array of hallways until they came to a stop by another room. Bart sifted through his ring of keys, chose one, and opened the door. The room was larger and reminded her of a doctor’s office. A patient table , complete with binding cuffs for wrists and ankles, was the centerpiece with a bright lamp standing beside it. On the counter were trays of various implements wrapped in plastic, u sed for what, only her imagination could conjure.
    Her feet wouldn’t take another step, as fear gripped her heart, squeezing and twisting it so tautly that she could barely breathe and found no voice with which to scream. Bart pulled her into the room by her handcuffs, and hoisted her onto the table.
    Impulsively, she struggled against hi m , flailing her shackled hand s , kicking her legs , and trying to do damage wherever she could with her feet. He leaned on top of her, restricting anymore movement, and took out the syringe, pulling the plastic protective covering off the needle.
    “No! I’ll stop! I’ll stop. Don’t put that in me. ” Tears trickled down her face as she fought to still her hysterical body. “ Please, don’t put that in me.” He stopped.
    “Behave or I will use it.” She nodded silently, and he removed the handcuffs only to secure her wrists in new bindings. He shifted his body off of her s and shackled her ankles to the table as well.
    “She’s all yours, Mr. Langdon.” The brute walked out leaving her alone with the psychotic mastermind.
    Victor approached her, studying her face, observing her body as though she were a specimen. Could he see the abject terror she felt with every cell in her body ? He’d put it there. And she’d never forget or forgive as long as she had a breath to take .
    “Fear and anger aren’t bad emotions, Camille. They can be quite helpful at times. ” He pushed the neckline of her tank sweater aside to reveal the mark and smiled. “ B ut you should know the role you are about to play is extremely important to the fate of the world. If I were in your position right now, I’d feel elated and honored. Satan has called upon you to guide him into this realm. ”
    He didn’t know the half of it. Or did he? She decided to test her theory.
    “Is that right? He told you this himself, did he?”
    “ He spoke to me, yes.”
    “And what exa ctly did he say?”
    “You are the Marked One.”
    “I thought Marked Ones were only boys.”
    “That’s what makes you so special, Camille. He marked you himself when you were quite young and impulsive , or don’t you remember your little accident in the baptismal pool ?”
    What could she say? The events during the accident , once thought of as crazy musings from a dying child , were now not so much . Dumbfounded by his knowledge of her encounter with Satan, she could only stare back in disbelief.
    “O h, yes, but