Kitty and the Dead Man's Hand (Kitty Norville 5) - Page 71

I didn’t know what time it was. Late. Really late, or really early, depending on your point of view. The crowds had actually thinned out. A few people wandered. A group of young drunks, bellowing laughter, leaned on each other as they walked. A few people sat in front of slot machines, staring like zombies, pressing the button over and over and over again. A janitor was wiping down a railing around the casino area. This was like the tail end of a party that a few lonely people refused to let end. It was tiring to see, and sad.

I stalled out where the lobby branched off to various sections of the hotel: casino, elevators, restaurants, theater. Where did I find Balthasar? In his suite? Where had he taken Ben? I couldn’t scent anything; this whole place smelled like Balthasar and his troupe. Searching for a single lycanthrope he

re would be like trying to find a single piece of chocolate in a candy store.

And any minute now, Boris, Sylvia, or Nick would walk through the door, intent on catching me. I had to find Ben first.

I headed to the theater.

I searched for an unlocked backstage door and found it around the corner from the box office, an emergency exit tucked away from the main thoroughfare. I shoved through it to a darkened corridor and kept going. I didn’t have time to get my bearings, to catch the scent of anything but generic backstage smells, compounded by the reek of lycanthropes in the heart of their territory. My vision was going fuzzy, with the Wolf’s way of seeing in light and shadow that was much better suited for prairie and forest than a Vegas hotel.

Then I stopped. This was ridiculous. I couldn’t take on a pack of lycanthropes by myself. And did I seriously think they would listen to me while I gave them a reasoned argument about why they should let Ben go? That wasn’t going to work. This wasn’t the way to go about doing this. I hadn’t heard back yet from any of my contacts. But that didn’t mean I was on my own. I pulled out my phone and called information to get to the Hanging Gardens casino switchboard, then get a hold of casino security. Much more practical than me charging in there and getting myself killed. This was their job, after all.

But it was already too late. I heard footsteps down the corridor, heavy and barefoot, skin against concrete. The door where I’d come from opened again, and two men came through—members of Balthasar’s pack. Our gazes met, and I could see the hunt in their eyes.

They were behind me. Another one, bare-chested, corded muscles bunching along his chest and arms, appeared in front of me. Inside me, Wolf snarled.

Wasn’t much of a chase. I had nowhere to run. In a heartbeat, one of the lycanthropes was on top of me. The other one closed me in a bear hug, lifting me off the floor, and the third locked my legs together and held tight. I only had a chance to scream once before one of them clamped down on my face, shutting my mouth.

Running almost, they carried me away. I couldn’t see anything but wall passing by.

I had a tough choice. I writhed, kicked, fought as much as I could. But not too much. Wolf was howling, clawing at the inside of my skin, crazy to get out, break free, get us away from here. I hadn’t done such a great job keeping us safe, now it was her turn.

But I couldn’t let that happen, I couldn’t shift. I tried to stay calm, keeping my thoughts in order, keeping my body in its current shape. Keep it together, keep it together. Instinct was one thing, but I wanted to see where they were taking me and if Ben was okay. There’d still be time to break out of here.

Fight. Flee.

Soon. Please, keep still.

My throat rattled with her growl.

We stopped. I kicked, arched my back, trying to get a look, but the men who held me were quick and powerful. Their hands pulled and wrenched me until I gasped. Metal closed over my wrists and I thought, Not silver, please, no—but the bindings didn’t itch or burn. Normal steel manacles secured my wrists now, bound to chains bolted to a cinderblock wall.

Normal? Oh yeah, right.

They didn’t just lock me in the chains, oh no. They pressed close. They took advantage of their proximity to me and pawed, rubbed, smelled. Their breaths blew through my shirt, caressed my rib cage, teased along my throat. A tongue ran along the edge of my ear; I shook away from it, and someone chuckled. Three sets of hands moved along my body, from throat to breast, across my belly, from thigh to crotch. I swallowed a scream.

“Enough,” said a theatrical voice, echoing.

The bodies of my captors moved away from me, and I could finally look around. I shook my hair out of my face so I could see.

I was in a small, bare room, my feet on a concrete floor, my arms stretched to each side and chained to the wall. It might have been a storage room at one time, but it had been cleared out. Now the place smelled of sweat, sex, and blood. I had a feeling I wasn’t the first person to be brought here and chained to the wall. Arrayed before me were Balthasar and most of his troupe. No Nick. Avi, the young one, stood off to one side, huddled near the wall, arms crossed, looking hungrily at me. I bared my teeth at him and was gratified when he looked away.

Balthasar stood in the middle of it all, only a few feet away from me. Too bad I could move only a few inches—no chance to pull away. And no chance to pounce at him in an attack. He gazed at me, satisfied, like a hunter who had trapped elusive prey. He was relaxed, arms at his sides, a faint smile touching his lips. He didn’t see a person, he didn’t see me.

My vision wavered, Wolf swimming behind my eyes. She was glaring out at them all. I clenched my hands until my nails dug into my palms.

Keep it together.

“You’re all sick fucks, you know that?” I said.

“Oh, shh, now,” Balthasar said to me. “I know this is hard.”

I felt like the jackals were circling. “Where’s Ben?”

Unconcerned, he said, “I don’t know. We don’t have him, but his disappearance seemed like a good way to lure you back here after you ran off. I got his shirt out of your hotel room.”

It’s a trap, Grant had said, and of course he’d been right. I’d known all along. And been stupid enough to think I could outwit it.

Tags: Carrie Vaughn Kitty Norville Fantasy
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