Directly in front of me, suspended from a thick woven steel cable attached to a leather collar around her neck, is Juanita.
She’s gagged. Her wrists are bound behind her back. She’s barefoot, dressed only in denim shorts and a T-shirt with the MMA wrestling logo on the front. The cable from which she’s suspended is measured perfectly so that she has to stand on tippy-toe to avoid being strangled by the collar.
When she sees me, she starts to cry uncontrollably. The sound is muffled by the ball gag in her mouth.
I cry out and lunge forward. I’m instantly flanked by four of S?ren’s guards, pointing high-powered rifles at my chest. They’d been standing just inside the door.
I jerk to a stop. The guards slowly move in front of me, keeping me in their sights.
Twisting on the cable, her bare toes slipping over the polished floor, Juanita softly sobs.
From above comes S?ren’s voice, floating down like gossamer. “Welcome home, Tabitha.”
I look up and see him leaning over the metal railing of the platform, smiling down at me. He’s holding a coiled bullwhip in his right hand.
My pulse thundering, I shout, “Let her go!”
His smile grows wider. Light from behind him haloes his golden head. He’s dressed in perfectly fitted black trousers and a white button-down silk shirt, the cuffs rolled up his forearms, the collar open at his throat. Like mine, his feet are bare.
He moves away from the railing and begins to descend the spiral staircase, his movements graceful and leisurely, one hand trailing along the staircase rail. He’s taller than I remember. More muscular too. His shirt stretches across broad shoulders and the planes of his chest, highlighting a balance of form that would be impressive if only I didn’t know what horrors lurked beneath.
And yet for all S?ren’s polished beauty and grace, it pales in comparison to the sheer, rugged, masculine perfection of one Connor Hughes.
Connor. My heart does a somersault inside my chest.
Don’t think about him. Don’t think!
When S?ren reaches the bottom of the staircase, he pauses for a moment, looking me over. A mad light shines in the depths of his frozen blue eyes. He opens his fingers so the whip unfurls to the floor in a sinister, slow-motion slither.
Rage crackles through me like electricity, as if I’ve been plugged into a socket and juiced with twenty thousand volts. Every muscle in my body tenses. I growl, “Let her go. Don’t make me say it again.”
He walks toward me slowly, smiling, rolling his wrist in an expert motion so the whip seems to be a live thing moving before him, gyrating and spinning, the tip slapping lightly against the floor. Beautiful and menacing, he stops about ten feet behind Juanita.
“Or what?” His tone is playful.
Bristling, I answer, “Or I’ll make you wish you were dead long before I grant you that wish.”
One of the guards takes a step toward me, the bore of his rifle leveled at my heart. “Back down.”
I’m staring at S?ren when I answer. “I don’t know how to back down. I only know how to stand up. So if you want a piece of me, come and get it. But you better be ready to learn your own limits, because I don’t have any.”
S?ren laughs. It’s a gorgeous sound, rich and warm, filled with delight. “God, how I’ve missed you!”
I look at Juanita, trying to convey to her with my eyes that she shouldn’t worry, that I’ll get her out of this. Trembling all over, she stares back at me, her brown eyes huge, her cheeks wet.
“The feeling is definitely not mutual.”
He ignores that. “Even staring down the barrel of a gun, you’re fearless! You see, that’s exactly why we’re so perfect together.”
“You disgust me.”
“Oh, come now, it must have been tedious living all those years among the peasants. There must be a part of you that’s relieved you’ll finally have someone of a superior intellect to interact with. Admit it.”
I say bluntly, “Sorry to burst your bubble, Satan, but you’re not the smartest man I’ve ever met.”
He chuckles. “Now you’re simply being ridiculous. Guards.” They turn to look at him. When he motions with his head, they retreat, but only to a distance. I’ve still got four guns trained on me, just from farther away.
“Where were we?” S?ren muses.
I take a careful step toward Juanita. S?ren allows it, a smile lightly playing around the corners of his sculpted lips.
“Ah, yes. You were demanding I let your little friend go, and I was about to give you a lesson in the quality and craftsmanship of Corinthian leather.”
His arm snaps up. I realize what’s about to happen a fraction of a second before it does.
“No!” I scream, leaping into motion, but it’s too late. S?ren’s arm comes down with a sharp stroke, the whip cracks, Juanita’s entire body jerks, her eyes fly wide open, and her anguish-filled scream pierces the air.
I reach her just as her head drops forward and her body starts to sag. She’s going into shock.