Of course, that also meant help wasn’t likely to be close at hand.
I reached down inside to where the wolf slumbered and found her disturbingly absent. There was an aching hollowness in my middle as if a piece of me had been ripped out and cast away. Panic tore through me with enough force to make my already throbbing head swim. Nausea burned in my throat while my hands trembled where they were tied to the chair. I hadn’t been so alone in my body for almost a decade, and found myself filled with terror at the thought that the wolf might be gone.
“No, no, no,” I sobbed, digging deeper into the hollow in my middle where the wolf resided.
I envisioned questing fingers scrabbling in the darkness, pawing through inky mire and filth in search of a precious diamond. The more time that passed the greater my panic became, tears blurring my vision until, nearly at the far reaches of hope, I finally felt something. It was little more a whisper, weak and muddled, but she was there. A relieved sob rose in my throat, and I swore that I’d never again wish for the wolf’s absence.
My head still felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, but, bolstered by the reassurance that she was still there, I managed to lift it enough to get a better view of my surroundings. They weren’t much more impressive than my friend, the emaciated rat. I appeared to be in the basement of someone’s house, but it didn’t look like anyone had been living there in a very long time. Water stains dappled the bare concrete walls and ceiling, the black smears on the damp surface no doubt the beginnings of mold.
Classy joint.
A long wooden workbench ran along the length of the wall on the opposite side of the room, the top covered in a haphazard pile of rusting tools and trash, all of it overlaid with a thick coating of dust and grime. I could see several items in the clutter that would have cut through the zip ties binding my hands and ankles, but I had no way of retrieving any of them. Impotent rage burned in my gut.
How dare he do this to me! What is that sick prick planning to do, anyway?
I shuddered at the thoughts that sprang to mind. It was all too easy to envision several very nasty things he might have in store for me. Desperate for something to distract me from the horrifying images dancing through my mind, I looked around the room some more, hoping to see something that might give me a clue as to where I was, or—better yet—a way out of this mess.
A small window above the workbench had a broken pane that let in gusts of cold air. Aside from the window and the stairs leading upwards, there didn’t appear to be any other ways out of the basement. Twisting in the chair, I tried to look behind me, but my attempts halted at the sound of the door opening at the top of the stairs. A weak shaft of light spilled down the wooden steps, eclipsed a second later as someone stepped into the doorway.
Johnson’s staggering steps thumped down the stairs, raining clouds of dust and rat shit. I smelled the booze wafting off him before he even reached the bottom step.
Drunk and crazy. Always a great combination, I thought bitterly, a snarl already curling my lip as he lurched to a stop with a bottle of Jack in his hand, and turned to look at me.
“’Bout time you woke up,” he slurred, surveying me with bloodshot eyes. It looked like he’d been drinking for a while, and I was struck by his transformation. The professional and tightly wound FBI agent had been replaced by a slovenly, wild-eyed drunk. Either he was an excellent actor and had fooled everyone into thinking he was just a normal guy, or something had happened to make him lose his shit.
“’Bout time you got your drunk ass down here. I’m bored. Entertain me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of fun planned for us,” he said, his lips twisting into a cruel smile. The menace contained in that one look was enough to make me shrink back in the chair and shudder.
Taking a long swig from the bottle, he ambled towards me, looking more disheveled than ever with his shirt unbuttoned and untucked to reveal the sweat stained, white t-shirt beneath.
“Nice place you’ve got here,” I said, baring my teeth in a sneer. “It smells like a vampire’s asshole.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek, his fever bright eyes narrowing, but he didn’t strike me like I expected.
“It’s all right, you’ll get used to the smell. After all, you’re going to be here for a while.”
Panic swept through me, making me shudder. I was in deep shit, and I wasn’t sure I was going to make it out of here in anything other than a body bag.
“What’s your deal anyway? Hurt that I wasn’t won over by your dazzling charm? Or maybe you’re just mad because you knew I wouldn’t be interested in your tiny pecker?”