Demon's Kiss (Wings in the Night #13)

Demon's Kiss (Wings in the Night #13) Page 15

Topaz had waited far from the rogues' mansion, until she was certain they had, indeed, all left for their nightly feeding frenzy. If anything, she gave them extra time, but she had to be careful.

Okay, so maybe it was pathetic of her. To be used, to be taken, to be robbed by a man like Jack, was bad enough. What was worse was that she'd enjoyed every minute of it. Every second. Intensely. Right up until the big revelation at the end, at least, where he'd done a vanishing act with her money. But the rest-the rest had been blissful. To add insult to injury, she missed him. And she still got hot every time she thought of his kiss, his touch, his hands on her body. God, the man was a master at lovemaking.

And yeah, she hated the idea of Jack burning alive, even though that was exactly what he deserved. She'd tried telling herself and everyone else that she wanted to keep him alive only because she needed her money back, and if he died, she would never be able to get it. And she would keep on telling everyone else that. But deep down, she knew better. It wasn't as easy to lie to herself.

So she waited, and then she moved closer to the mansion and waited some more. It was a long wait, and she figured the others in Reaper's band of misfits would be wondering where she was. Maybe even worrying about her, though she supposed that was doubtful. She wasn't the kind of person people actually liked. Never had been. Which was why she was so stupid to have let herself believe Jack had ever really cared about her. No one had ever really cared. It didn't matter. She had to do this.

It was, she figured, a couple of hours past midnight when the rogues began returning to their lair. Sometimes just one solitary vampire, sometimes a group of two or three. She opened her senses while trying to keep her own presence concealed-a difficult task. It was easier to block your own essence while closing yourself off entirely. To be open, searching, reaching out for someone while blocking others, that was trickier. She thought she could handle it, though.

Finally she felt him. He was with a small group making their way to the front of the mansion, talking about the night's kills the way mortal hunters would discuss every detail after taking a deer.

"You should have seen her," a male vampire Topaz had never seen before was saying. "She never realized anything was wrong until I sank my fangs into her pretty neck. It was fantastic." He was tall, painfully thin, recently made, with silver gray hair and a gaunt face that spoke of endless hunger.

Jack laughed with the strange vamp, but Topaz could feel him squirming a little. "Sixteen, you say?"

"Or thereabouts."

"So, you, uh, killed her, then?"

"Drained her dry." The vampire slapped him on the back. "Young blood is so much sweeter, don't you think?"

"Always," Jack said. "I was just saying the other night how-" He stopped there, breaking off in midsentence and tipping his head in just such a way that Topaz knew he'd sensed her presence, just as she'd intended.

Jack quickly glanced at his companion. "You know, Merlin, I completely forgot what I was going to say just now." He gave his head a shake. "I think the victim I took tonight was on something that's not agreeing with me."

"You all right?" the other one asked.

"Fine. I think I'm going to stay outside for a bit, though. Take in the night. It'll refresh me far more than being inside that stuffy mansion would."

"I can stay, if you-"

"Please." Jack rolled his eyes, and the other vampire grinned, nodded and went inside. Then Jack looked around, listened, felt for her.

She knew he was scanning for others in the area, not only of his own band, but of hers. He probably suspected a trap.

She stepped out of the shadows, and said, "I'm alone. I need to talk to you."

He saw her, and his eyes registered surprise, but only briefly. For just a moment there was a flash of something that looked almost glad to see her, and then his gaze moved up and down her body, blatantly appreciative. She tried not to remind herself how stupid she'd felt dressing up tonight in a slinky black number with a slit up to her hip and a plunging neckline. Putting on makeup, brushing her hair until it gleamed. God, she was pathetic. And yet, he noticed, and it felt good to be looked at that way. By him, only by him.

He came closer, and she stood there, waiting, letting the wind move her hair and knowing it turned him on. She could feel that it did. Good. Let him suffer. When he was a foot from her, he stopped. "You look amazing, Topaz. It's been too long."

"It hasn't been nearly long enough," she said, hoping he felt only her anger and resentment, and none of the hurt and ridiculous longing welling up inside her. "Never wouldn't be long enough. But I couldn't very well demand my money back without seeing you."

"Ah. So you're here for your money."

"What else?"

He shrugged, but his gaze was on her cleavage, then her neck and her lips, and his fingertips were suddenly running down her arms from shoulder to elbow and back again, and she shivered involuntarily.

"Stop it, Jack." She could have taken a step back, but didn't. It had been too damn long since he'd touched her. And he didn't obey. Just kept on stroking, so lightly. "I just want my money." God, her voice was shaking.

"I earned that money, love. Fair and square. I gave you enough orgasms to pay for twice what I took from you."

"I didn't know I was being charged for them. And as I recall, I gave as good as I got. You had plenty of pleasure, too."

"I'd like some more."

Before she could react-not that she was even sure she would have-he jerked her to him and took her mouth with his. And, oh, God, it was everything she'd been dreaming about since he'd left her. Everything she remembered and hungered for. The way he had of moving his lips against hers as his tongue teased-didn't plunge, that would come later, but just teased-dipping, tempting, tasting. He had the softest lips of any man she had ever kissed, and everything in her wanted him in that moment. She couldn't help it when she twisted her arms around his neck, tipped her head to get a better angle.

He slid his magic hands down her back, cupped her ass and pulled her slowly, powerfully, against him as he arched into her. Hard. She felt him. At least he wanted her, too. But then again, that had never been the issue.

"God, you're a hot little thing," he whispered against her mouth. "I'm so glad you came back for more. Did you bring your checkbook?"

Just like a slap in the face, his words snapped her out of the haze of desire that had held her. She jerked herself out of his arms and blinked up at him, stunned, hurt and angry. "You bastard."

"Sorry. Just checking." He shrugged. "I suppose I could toss you a freebie, if you-"

She hit him, and it wasn't a girlie face-slap, either, but a full-blown, clenched fist to the jaw that snapped his head around and spun his body in a half circle.

He wobbled, caught himself, put a hand on his jaw and lifted his head slowly to face her. "You are pissed."

"Half a million dollars will do that to a woman."

"I think that was more feeling than fortune, love."

"In your dreams, Jack. Give me back my money, and I might just tell you something that will save your sorry ass from annihilation."

That caught his interest. Finally the smug look left his face. His brows rose, and he searched her eyes. Good, at last an honest expression-something beyond his act. She'd seen it before, or thought she had. But it was rare that he let the slick veneer slip away.

"My ass is in danger of being annihilated?"

"Soon, too."

"Well, now. That is interesting." He took her arm. "Why don't we find a cozy, private place to discuss it further?"

Her heart beat faster, even while her mind told her to send him packing, or, better yet, deck him again. But before she could do either, she sensed others coming from the castle.

It hit her fast that she'd let her guard down-he'd kissed her, and she'd forgotten everything except feeling, sensation, passion. God, he was good.

He seemed to become aware of their discovery at the same time she did, because he shoved her away from him and whispered, "Run."

She ran, and the other vampires came charging toward them, but Jack stepped out, held up a hand, and they stopped. After that, she couldn't see or hear them anymore. She was entirely focused on making her way, silently and with all the speed she could muster, through an unfamiliar forest, in hopes of eluding the rogues.

Jack had spent the entire encounter, minus its final minute or so, feeling extremely pleased with himself. She still wanted him. That much was clear. That he still wanted her just as much didn't really enter into it. He was male, she was hot and quite possibly the best sex he'd ever had. Naturally he still wanted her. It didn't mean anything.

For her, however, it did. It must. She was female. They were emotional things by nature. He'd stolen from her, used her, hurt her, abandoned and betrayed her, and she still had it bad for him.

Damn, he must be better than even he had realized.

Of course, the kiss had hit him a little harder than he'd anticipated, and not wanting to reveal that, he'd had to cover by insulting her. It was second nature. Keep them close enough, just not too close.

At any rate, all those thoughts had dissipated when she'd made her cryptic comment about his impending doom, and then they'd vanished entirely when he'd realized that her presence on the grounds had been discovered.

He stood there now, grinning like an idiot at the two members of what he had dubbed Gregor's Goon-Squad-the GGS for short. God, they were all so alike-Gregor chose them that way. Weak-minded and bulky, they looked enough alike to have been blood kin in life. Beetling foreheads, eyes a tad too close together, thick necks. Big heads full of dark hair, and bearded. All of them. Why Gregor insisted on that, Jack couldn't be certain. His best guess-to make it easy to tell them apart from the full-blooded vampires.

Though he wasn't quite sure what made them less than full-blooded. And he had to admit to a burning curiosity, though he wouldn't break his neck trying to find out. It was no skin off his nose either way.

The drones lumbered up to him and stopped.

"I sensed a presence, too," he lied. "Came out to check, but there's no one. Maybe around back-"

Before he could finish, he heard and sensed something that made his stomach turn, and he turned to see two more of the oversized, under-witted vampire drones dragging Topaz between them. Dammit to hell, where had they come from?

Her face was bruising already, silken hair hanging in her eyes, sexy dress-the one he was sure she'd put on just for him-torn. The slit that had reached to just below her hip now gaped to the curve of her waist, revealing the slender band of the thong panties she wore underneath it. One vampire clutched each of her arms, and he knew they were holding her far harder than was necessary.

She lifted her head, met his eyes.

Jack averted his, because he couldn't stand seeing her in pain. He liked women. This one in particular. He didn't approve of, much less have the stomach for, harming them-at least not physically. Financially, emotionally, those were entirely different things.

"Nice work, men," he said, forcing a smile of approval. "How about I take her from here, then?"

"How about I do?"

The voice was Gregor's, and it came from behind him. He turned to meet the boss's eyes and found them furious. Frowning, Jack said, "Gregor, what's happened? The anger's coming off you in waves."

"Briar is missing. I believe they've taken her."

"Who have taken her?" Jack asked, though he was sorely afraid he already knew.

"Reaper, the one sent to destroy me, and his gang. The same bastards who took Vixen from us." He looked past Jack at Topaz. "Fortunately, we have one of theirs now. Don't we?"

She lowered her eyes, refusing to answer.

"Yes, of course we do. Who else would be sneaking around here in the dead of night?"

"Gregor, I don't think-"

"Shut up, Jack. You two, take her inside, down below. She can have Vixen's old cell."

They nodded and dragged her onward. Topaz didn't struggle, didn't fight, just kept looking at Jack, her eyes asking why the hell he wasn't doing something to help her. But dammit, he couldn't.

As they dragged her past Gregor, he stopped them, then gripped her chin and lifted it so that he could stare directly into her eyes. "I'm going to enjoy punishing you for the crimes of your comrades, pretty one. I'm going to enjoy it very much."

She spat in his face, and Jack closed his eyes and turned his head away so he couldn't see the back of Gregor's hand when it slammed into her already bruised cheekbone. But he heard it, and dammit, he felt it. He felt her pain like his own.

"Downstairs into the cell-now."

The goons towed her off. Her feet were no longer moving, just dragging behind her, and Jack was pretty sure Gregor's blow had left her unconscious. Dammit, now what the hell was he supposed to do?

Briar passed out on the bed when Roxy managed to inject her for a second time with the tranquilizer, as Seth helped Reaper hold her down. Roxy'd had a hard time convincing Reaper that the hell-cat could handle another dose, but in the end, they'd had no choice. She was tearing up the place, and her anguish was bound to give away their position, given time.

And that wasn't the only problem with her being there. Vixen was petrified, absolutely traumatized by Briar's presence, and Seth was madder than hell about it.

"We can't just keep injecting her," Reaper muttered. He looked at Roxy as he said it. "We don't know how much of this stuff a vampire can handle all at once."

"Good call, Einstein," she snapped. "Maybe you should've thought of that before you brought her here." She turned away and muttered under her breath, "Dumb-ass."

Reaper looked at her quickly.

"She's right," Seth put in. "Not only that, but you didn't even bother to consult us."

"Consult you?"

"Yes, consult us. We're a team, aren't we?"

"No," Reaper said. "I wouldn't call us a team. Look, you've joined me one by one, against my will, not to mention my better judgment. But this is my mission. It's my job. It's what I do, and I don't intend to consult any of you about how I choose to do it."

Seth felt the sting. "Fine. Don't consult. Care to explain, then?"

"No."

"Well, what the hell are we supposed to do with her, Reap?"

"I'll let you know when I've decided."

Seth rolled his eyes, pushed his hands through his hair and wound up facing Vixen, who was standing on the far side of the room, near the open door, staring at Briar and, he thought, trembling a little.

He swung his head around to look at Reaper again. "Do you see what this is doing to her? She's on your side, man. Yet you traumatize her by bringing home the woman who tortured her, without even a word of warning or so much as an explanation. Dammit, Reaper, what are you thinking?"

"For the last time, I'm not going to explain myself to you!" Reaper seemed to grab hold of himself before he lost it entirely. He glanced at the wild thing on the bed, sleeping now, and then turned to face Vixen. "I'm sorry this upsets you, Vixen. Believe me when I tell you, I will keep her from hurting you in any way. I promise you that. And she'll have a hell of a time trying to contact Gregor mentally until the drugs metabolize out of her system. At this dosage, they should keep her from giving him our location even when she comes around."

She held his gaze and whispered, "I believe you mean what you say. I just don't think it's a promise you can keep. She's strong."

"I'm stronger."

"I'm not so sure about that," Vixen whispered. She lowered her head, hurt showing in her eyes, and turned to leave the room.

But then she stopped-they all stopped-when they heard Gregor's mental shout ringing loudly, almost deafeningly, in their heads. Only Roxy couldn't hear it, but she went still, watching them.

You have taken two of mine. But now I have one of yours. And believe me, her stay here will not be pleasant.

"Topaz," Vixen whispered. Her voice was choked with fear, and Seth went to her automatically, put his arms around her and drew her close to his side.

Return Briar and Vixen, or this one will die.

Don't hurt her! Reaper replied, speaking without making a sound.

Oh, it's too late for that. I've already hurt her, and I will continue to do so. It's killing her that I'll hold off on. But not for long, Reaper. Not for long. I want you to bring my women back to me personally. And alone. Or she dies. You have until one hour past sunset tomorrow. I'll let you know when and where.

Reaper closed his eyes.

Vixen drew herself out of Seth's embrace. "I'll go back. I'll go right now. And I'll take Briar with me."

"No." Seth gripped her shoulders, turning her to face him and staring hard into her eyes. "No way in hell."

"Yes, Seth. It has to be done, and it has to be done now. He's hurting her. You don't know what it's like-"

"We have time to make a better plan," Reaper said.

"He's hurt her already! He's hurting her now!" Vixen cried.

"It's nearly dawn. He can't hurt her while he rests," Reaper promised. "Topaz is tougher than she looks. Have a little faith. We'll get her back, safe and sound. I promise."

Vixen seemed to want to accept that, although she clearly had her doubts. As for Seth, he didn't see any possible solution, and he was sick at the thought of Topaz being tortured. He wished to God he could sense her, send her a message of encouragement or let her know they would get her out of there somehow. But he couldn't feel anything from her. Once inside that mausoleum, it was like a vampire had fallen into a black hole. There was no way to know what was happening to her, and his imagination was supplying dreadful possibilities.

Thank God it was almost dawn, because he couldn't bear to think about it for much longer.

Topaz hit the far wall face-first, scraping her palms, elbows and, she was pretty sure, her chin, when the burly thugs shoved her into the cell. The door closed, a jarring clang of iron on iron, and locks turned, squealing in rusty protest, but clicking into place all the same.

She pushed her face away from the damp stone wall, refused to press a hand to her chin, because that would be admitting they'd hurt her. She didn't like admitting to pain. She didn't like anyone to have that kind of power over her-the power to hurt her-much less admit it on those rare occasions when someone did.

Instead, she turned her head slowly, and sent a look over her shoulder that should have had the goons shaking in their jackboots.

But, of course, they'd already turned and lumbered away by then.

Cussing under her breath, Topaz touched two fingertips to her chin, sucked air through her teeth and jerked them away again. Okay, the skin was intact. But she bet she would have a hell of a bruise marring her complexion before daylight. Thank God for the day sleep's regenerative powers, she thought. She examined her elbows, and saw that they were skinned and speckled with droplets of blood. "Bastards are gonna pay for that." Turning her palms toward her, she saw that they, too, were skinned up, mostly on the heels of her hands. She was glad her reflexes were practically instantaneous, or her face would have taken a considerably more serious beating.

She crossed the cell, gripped the bars and peered between them to get a look at her surroundings. It was a lightless tomb of a place, but she could see better by darkness than any mortal could in full light. It was a cellar, maybe had been a wine cellar once. The gut-level perception of it as a dungeon was ridiculous; there were no dungeons in the old South when this place had been built. Slave quarters, yeah, whipping posts, more than likely. Or maybe not. They wouldn't have needed to resort to a shock collar for Vixen if they'd thought to whip her raw and bloody.

Then again, they might just be lazy.

For a moment the thought of Vixen in this place for God knew how long, being tortured by these assholes, made her feel sick to her stomach. She could handle anything they could dish out. But Vixen-she was such a little thing, so odd and fragile-seeming. Yeah, okay, she was freaking weird, but that didn't negate the disgust Topaz felt at the thought of those burly animals hurting her.

The cellar was built of hand-hewn stone blocks, its floor packed earth. And beyond the cell, she couldn't see much of use. A bench on one wall, some pipes running up the sides here and there, and criss-crossing the ceiling-recent additions, relatively speaking. A pail and washboard dangled from a nail where they'd probably been hanging for a century. Cobwebs were plentiful. Ahead and to the left there were two stone steps that led upward and a tall door, beyond which she knew were more steps and the outside world.

There must be another door somewhere, with stairs that led up into the main part of the mansion, but it was out of sight. The thugs hadn't gone out the way they'd brought her in. She craned her neck to see around the corner to the left of her cell, where the goons had gone, but it was useless. Even vampires couldn't see around corners or through walls. None that she knew of, at least.

She gave the cell door an experimental shake, but she knew damn well it wasn't going to give. They wouldn't have put her in here if they thought she could get out. And she doubted a faulty cell would have held Vixen for very long. The little thing might be strange, but she wasn't stupid. She struck Topaz as kind of cunning, in a naive sort of way.

The lock looked new. As if it had been recently replaced.

Sighing, she turned to examine the inside of her cell, but it only made her angrier. Stone walls, concrete floor-probably so prisoners couldn't tunnel out with their bare hands. As if, she thought with a look at her nails. Screw that. She would use one of their fat heads to bash the hinges off the door instead. It beat messing up a ninety-dollar manicure.

There was a cot-a slab of wood, really-bolted to the wall, further supported by chains at the head and foot. A small blanket was wadded up on the cot, and she remembered Vixen saying Jack had brought her a blanket. Was that the one?

Hell.

"I know it's not what you're used to."

She spun around and hated the way her heart skipped at the sight of that bastard Jack coming across the cellar toward her. He stopped at the cell door, not close enough to reach. He didn't trust her.

He was smart.

"It's a shit hole."

"I'm sorry, Topaz. Believe me-"

"If you were sorry, you would have stopped them."

"If I'd tried, they would have killed me without batting an eye. I was outnumbered, in case you failed to notice."

She narrowed her eyes to mere slits, glaring at him.

"What?"

"Seth was outnumbered, too."

"Seth who?"

"Seth, the young fledgling barely out of braces, who charged in here and took on six or eight of those Neanderthals you have lumbering around just to get that odd little Vixen out."

"Oh." He pursed his lips. "I, uh...oh."

"Don't worry. I know you could have done the same. I'm not questioning your manhood here, Jack. Just pointing out that you're a self-centered snake."

"How so?"

"You let them throw me in this cell because doing otherwise would have ruined your position here. And if I know you, you're hoping to cash in, in some manner or other, before you check out. Correct me if I'm wrong."

"I wouldn't risk your life for money."

"Why not? You don't give a damn about me."

He shrugged. "True, but I don't like hurting women."

She released an involuntary snort that spoke volumes.

"Physically," he clarified.

"Right."

He shrugged. "Believe what you want. I think I can get you out of this without the need for violence."

"You going to con me right out from behind iron bars, Jack? Come on, even you're not that good."

He sighed, lowered his head, shaking it, then raising it again and stabbing her eyes with his. "Why did you come here tonight?"

"To get my money back."

"Come on, Topaz, what's the point in lying now?"

She averted her eyes. "I want my money, Jack."

"Fine. I'll get it for you. Not that a quarter mil is going to do you much good in that cell, now, is it?"

"Half a million," she corrected.

"Uh, well, yes, but I had to hand half over to Gregor, love. I can't return what I don't have."

"What?" She looked up swiftly, eyes wide with disbelief. "Why the hell would you give half to that maniac?"

He shrugged. "Secure my position here, win his trust, that sort of thing. It's confidence-man stuff. You wouldn't understand."

"Fuck you, Jack."

"All in good time, babe." He shrugged. "Do you want me to get you out of here or not?"

"You think you can?"

"Somebody has to. Gregor's angry as hell."

"I know. He mentioned that he thinks someone has taken...Briar?"

"Yes, Briar. Meanest bitch ever to drink blood. Your pal Reaper took her tonight. We heard her cry out for help, but it was so brief no one could locate her."

"The man's a freaking idiot."

"You don't know the half. If I were Gregor, I'd let him keep her. It would be the most damaging thing we could do to your side, if you ask me."

She thinned her lips at his words, though his expression told her he was being anything but sarcastic.

"You have any idea what The Grim One wants with our hellion?"

"I can't even imagine." She shook her head. "Poor Vixen. She's terrified of Briar."

"You should be the one terrified right now, Topaz. You're the one being threatened here." He glanced toward the door, the one she couldn't see. "He probably won't bother you tonight. Dawn's too close, but come sundown-"

"I need to feed," she said, cutting him off.

He blinked, then frowned. "You haven't fed tonight?"

"No. I wasted all night waiting to warn you-" She bit her lip, but too late. She'd said too much.

"Warn me?" His brows rose skeptically, and Jack searched her eyes while she avoided his. "So Reaper was planning some kind of move against us, was he? And you couldn't bear to let it happen with me sitting here, a perfect target."

"I want my money. I won't get it if you're dead."

"Nor if you are. Yet you risked your life to warn me. Admit it."

"You are so full of yourself."

"Doesn't matter. I don't suppose your friend will do anything too destructive while we have you here, anyway." He moved closer to the cage. "Now, don't try anything vicious. All I have to do is shout to bring a dozen of the goons down on you. All right?"

He reached through the bars, gripping her shoulders, one in each hand, and drew her closer. She stiffened, and he met her eyes. "Come here, Topaz. You said you were hungry. I can't bring you sustenance, since Gregor's taken to keeping careful track of the supplies. My blood will have to do."

Her eyes shot to his in spite of herself, and she felt heat spike inside her and knew it showed, though she would deny it to the death.

"Come here," he whispered. So much the way he used to say those very words to her in bed, when he was changing positions, moving her, turning and pulling her close again.

She moved close to the bars, drawn to him like a magnet to steel.

"There now," he said. One arm encircled her shoulders, his hand resting at her nape, while the other rose, palm up, wrist near her chin. "There's a good vein there. Go ahead, drink."

Her breath came faster; her eyes fell closed. "I'd rather go hungry."

"You're a terrible liar. We both know you want it. If you were paying attention to anything besides trying to conceal your own desires, Topaz, you might know I want it, too."

Her eyes flew open.

"We were good together. You can't deny that."

"It wasn't real. You used me."

"I did. But it was still good." He lifted his wrist higher, closer to her mouth. "Take me the way you want to."

"Can't," she whispered, closing her hands around his forearm. "The damn bars are in the way." Then she bent and sank her fangs into his flesh. She tasted him, and everything she had ever felt came screaming back to life inside her. She suckled and swallowed. She drank him. And she burned for him so badly that her entire being seemed swathed in a thick, red-hot haze of bloodlust.

All too soon, he was tugging his wrist away, pushing her head away gently, or perhaps weakly. Her eyes parted just a little, and she knew they were glowing with need-and with hunger-as they met his. She was shocked to see that his were bright with craving, as well.

"As good as ever," he said, his voice throaty, almost a growl. "I wish Gregor hadn't taken the damn keys. If I could get in there with you right now, I'd-"

"Don't." She closed her eyes and turned away, tried to douse the fire raging in every cell of her body. God, it was too much. She was shaking with it.

He took a deep breath, blew it out. "Tonight, when Gregor comes to question you, you need to tell him that you came here for me. Convince him that you're in love with me, that you couldn't forget me, and that you came here to try to win me back."

Her head came up, her eyes opening wider as his gall did what her own will hadn't been able to do-douse the fires he'd lit inside her. "Not even in your wildest dreams," she promised.

"Convince him that you came to join up with his gang, just to be close to me. Make it believable, Topaz."

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to do that."

He sighed heavily, the glow fading from his eyes. "Tell me, do you think Reaper will bring Vixen and Briar back to him right away?"

"I don't think he'll bring them back at all."

"Well, the torture-your torture, Topaz-begins at sundown, unless you can convince Gregor you're on our side. And you'll have to give him something to prove your sincerity; some information about the other side to show him you're on the level. Do you understand?"

She shook her head. "I won't betray the others."

"I'm not asking you to. Make something up, but make it something he can't verify. Better yet, tell him something true, something that isn't going to do any harm to your friends."

She shook her head again. "You're asking me to sell out."

"If you don't, you'll be tortured and probably killed. And there won't be a thing I can do to save you, Topaz."

"You mean, there won't be a thing you're willing to do to save me, don't you?"

He turned away from the cell. "Sleep, Topaz. When you wake up, take my advice and do exactly what I've told you. But only if you want to live."

And then he was gone.

Topaz sank onto her cot, furious with herself for wanting him so much, for risking so much to come here to warn him, to save him, when he clearly wasn't willing to risk a hair on his head for her.

When had she become so pathetic?