Crave

Nope. Rhythm was different.

He turned his head carefully toward the thing and drooled, his mouth clearing of what he couldn’t swallow because of the wire around his neck.

Whatever was with him let out another hitch of breath. And then he heard a subtle clicking.

What the fuck was that?

Curiosity eventually got the best of him and he cracked one of his lids . . . or gave that a shot, as it were. Took two tries and he had to push his eyebrows all the way up into his forehead before the fucker opened—

At first, Jim couldn’t fathom what he was looking at. But the blond hair couldn’t be denied . . . that long blond hair that fell to fragile shoulders.

Last time he’d seen it had been just days ago. In Devina’s bathroom.

It had been streaked with blood.

The girl who had been sacrificed to protect Devina’s mirror was dressed in a stained sheath, her thin arms covering her breasts, a small hand protecting the juncture of her thighs. She appeared to be miraculously unmarked, but the trauma was there: Her eyes were wide and horrified. . . .

Except they were not on the room. They were on him . . . on his body and the glossy, sticky remnants of everything that had been done to him.

“Don’t . . .” His voice was too damn weak, so he forced more air through that wire roadblock at his throat. “Don’t look . . . at me. Turn away . . . for God’s sake, turn away. . . .”

Shit, he needed more oxygen. He needed to make her—

Her eyes met his. The shock and terror on her face told him more than he needed to know, not just about what had been done to her by Devina, but what the sight of him was doing to the poor girl.

“Don’t look at me!”

As she flinched and cringed away, he reeled his temper in. Not that there was much to throw reins on—he’d used all the strength he had on that yell.

“Cover your face,” he said hoarsely. “Turn away and just . . . cover your face.”

The girl put her hands up and pivoted around, her delicate spine standing out against the sheath as she trembled.

Jim had pulled at his binds involuntarily during Devina’s little exercise session. Now he yanked.

“You’re hurting yourself,” she said as he grunted. “Please . . . stop.”

Pain cut off his capacity for speech and it was a while before he could say anything. “Where . . . where does she keep you? Down here?”

“In . . . in the . . .” Her voice was so very reedy, and in between the words, her teeth chattered—which explained the clicking he’d heard. “In the wall . . .”

His eyes shot toward the darkness, but the candlelight formed a luminous blockade his eyes couldn’t get through.

“How does she do that?” Not chains, he hoped.

And fuckin’ A, he was so going to get Devina for this one.

“I don’t know,” the girl said. “Where am I?”

Hell. But he kept that to himself. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

“My mom and dad . . .” She choked on tears. “They don’t know where I am.”

“I’ll tell them.”

“How will—” As she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes locked on his degraded body and she paled.

He shook his head. “No looking. Promise me . . . no more looking at me.”

Pale hands went back up to that beautiful face and she nodded. “My name is Cecilia. Sissy Barten—with an ‘e.’ I’m nineteen. Almost twenty.”

“You live in Caldwell?”

“Yes. Am I dead?”

“I want you to do something for me.”

Now she dropped her arms and stared at him hard. “Am I dead.”

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes as another wave of shaking shot through her body. “This isn’t Heaven. I believe in Heaven. What did I do wrong?”

Jim felt something hot at the corners of both his eyes. “Nothing. You did nothing wrong. And I’m going to get you there.”

If it was the last fucking thing he did.

“Who are you?”

“I’m a soldier.”

“Like in Iraq?”

“Used to be. Now I fight that bitch—er, female who did this to you.”

“I thought I was helping . . . when the lady asked me to carry a bag for her. I thought I was helping. . . .” She inhaled sharply as if she were trying to compose herself. “You can’t get out of here. I’ve tried.”

“I’m going to save you.”

Abruptly, her voice got stronger. “They hurt you.”

Shit, she was looking at him again.

“Don’t worry about me—you worry about yourself.”

A sound, like something dropping or maybe a metal door shutting, echoed up, startling her and focusing him. Undoubtedly, Devina was going to come soon enough and put Sissy back wherever she had been so he had to act fast. He didn’t know when he was going to return here or how exactly to free his girl.

Sissy, that was.

“Is that her?” Sissy asked tightly as footfalls sounded from far away. “It’s her, isn’t it. I don’t want to go back into the wall—please, don’t let her—”

“Sissy, listen to me. I need you to calm down.” She had to have something to focus on, something to keep her head together while he figured out how to get back to her. Searching his mind, he tried to pull an image out of his ass, something to ease her. “I need you to listen carefully.”

“I can’t go back there!”

Fuck, what could he give her to concentrate on? “I have a dog,” he blurted.

There was a beat, as if he’d surprised her. “You do?”

As the footsteps drew closer, he wanted to curse. “Yeah, I do.”

“I like dogs,” she said in a small voice, her eyes locking on his.

“He’s gray and blond and he’s shaggy. His fur . . .” The footsteps grew ever louder and Jim spoke quicker. “His fur is kind of rough—like it’s made up of old-man eyebrows, and he has little paws. He likes to sit in my lap. He has a limp that comes out if he runs too fast and he likes to eat my socks.”

Sniffle and a hitch of breath. Like she knew what was approaching and she was going to do her best to hang on to the lifeline he was trying to give her. “What’s his name?”

“Dog. I call him Dog. He eats pizza and turkey subs and he sleeps on my chest.” Faster. Faster with his words. “You’re going to meet him, ’kay? You’re going to take him out onto a patch of grass and . . . You know how you can tuck one sock into another?”

“Yes.” Urgent now. Like she wanted as much as he could give her. “A sock ball.”

“Sock balls—that’s right.” Fast, fast, fast. “You’ve got a sock ball and you’re going to throw it and he’s going to bring it back to you. Sun is out, Sissy. You can feel it on your face—”

“When are you coming back?” she whispered.

“Soon as I can.” He was talking at a blur now, the footsteps so close he knew they were stilettos with sharp, pointed heels. “You remember Dog. You hear me? When you feel like you’re losing it, you remember my dog —”

“Don’t leave me here—”

“I’ll come for you—”

Sissy’s face was slick with tears as she reached out for him. “Don’t leave me here!”

In an instant, she morphed into the condition she’d been in when he’d seen her over that tub, that sheath