to blame.”
Nervous murmurs whispered in the air. The group tightened.
“Who saw her last?” Fabian asked.
Three men and one woman looked to the young nurse. She blanched and shook her head in frantic denial.
Fabian saw it in her eyes. Ah, yes. She was the one who’d fucked up his plans and put them all at risk.
She’d been appointed with obtaining the anticoagulants for their captive. Obviously, she couldn’t go free. Not now.
He swelled with resolve. “Shari, isn’t it?”
She tried to back up, but ran into the others. “Yes.” Her gaze shot this way and that, seeking an avenue of escape. Conspicuous culpability trembled through her limbs.
Fabian smelled her intoxicating fear. He breathed it in and let it infuse his objective, transforming him and how he reacted to the loss.
Holding out a hand toward her, he commanded softly, “Come here, Shari.”
The others shuffled back, anxious to separate from the realm of punishment. Shari went pale enough for alarm; if she fainted, what fun would that be?
Annoyed by her lack of immediate obedience, Fabian snapped, “Bring her to me.”
The others showed the extant deference he expected. Against her frail protests, they dragged Shari to stand right before him.
While she remained contained by human fetters, Fabian touched her face. “Lying will only exacerbate my temper, child. I suggest we get through this peaceably. Yes?”
Eyes flared so that the whites showed all the way around, Shari gave a faint nod.
“Excellent.” Fascinated, Fabian touched the wildly throbbing pulse in her throat. Her blood pumped hard, inciting him, pressing him to haste. “You gave her the anticoagulants?”
A fat, glistening tear slid down Shari’s cheek. Lips quivering, she nodded. “Yes.”
The most appealing facet to Shari’s personality was her extraordinary urge to give pleasure to men. Offered the opportunity, she would willingly scar herself just to make a man smile.
Knowing this, Fabian stroked her hair. “You’ve been a valuable asset to me, Shari. I hope you know that.”
“I try,” she said, and gratitude seeped color back into her pallid face.
“Tell me now, how did she get free?” Fabian did his utmost to sound sympathetic. “It was an accident, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. I would never have let her go without your permission.”
“Of course not.” He smiled. “What happened?”
No longer straining against the hard hands gripping her, Shari relaxed. “I gave her the anticoagulant, as you said to do, and she revived enough to tell me how uncomfortable she was. Because her arms were chained up too high, her toes barely reached the floor.”
A vivid image flooded his brain. “She was straining? Her muscles stretched taut?” A curl of lust slithered into his guts. Such a delicious picture she would have made.
“Yes.” Shari lowered her eyes in apology. “I only unfastened the main chain so I could loosen it to give her more slack.”
As if cattle needed comfort? An edge entered his tone. “And?”
Frowning as if she still didn’t quite understand how it had happened, Shari swallowed. “She took me by surprise, Fabian. She was stronger than I expected, given the state of her body.”
“Fear is a potent thing.”
“That must be it, because she struck me and ran, yanking the chain right out of my hand. I was dazed. I swear, Fabian. I tried to go after her, but my head was spinning . . . ”
“My poor girl.” Sifting his fingers through her hair, over her skull, Fabian located a large lump. “Oh my. She did strike you hard, didn’t she?” He pressed a thumb to the spongy lump and felt Shari flinch with pain.
“I . . . I think the wrist manacle got me. It felt like she’d hit me with a pipe.”
Working his thumb over the painful swelling, he saw her eyes water, her lips tighten.
But she didn’t protest. Not Shari. No, if he wanted to hurt her, if he took enjoyment in that—and he did—then she would suffer him gladly.
Stupid bitch. She took all the fun out of his torment.
Annoyed with her silent submission, Fabian brought his hands down to her throat, encircled the slim white column with an unnerving lack of haste. “How long ago was this, my dear?”
His kind tone led her to misunderstand the precarious-ness of her position. “Maybe an hour or more. I’m not certain.”
Alarm jolted him. Much could happen in an hour. If the cow hadn’t died in the street, if she’d made it to the police to bleat about her abuse, they could all be collared. Even now, teams of cops could be circling the house.
Pulling his lips back from his teeth, Fabian rasped, “And you didn’t think to alert me right away?”
She tried to draw away, and couldn’t. “I . . . I don’t know. I’m sorry—”
“Apology not accepted.” He smiled—and tightened his hands until her eyes bulged, until her lips parted and she gagged for air. But he wouldn’t offer her such an easy death, so he loosened his grip. “You do realize that you have put us all at risk, don’t you?”
“She was bleeding out,” Shari gasped. Her nails dug at the backs of his hands, but to no avail. “Fabian, please. She was weak, too weak to get far.”
“Strong enough to escape you, though?” He wanted to snap her neck. He wanted to drain her of every ounce of her blood and then quarter her flesh for a later feast.
Common sense prevailed.
Jerking his hands away before he changed his mind, he allowed her to sink to the floor, sobbing in pity. He wanted to kill her, and he wanted to sate his ever-growing hunger. But if he killed her here, he’d not only waste precious time better spent escaping, he’d also have the added burden of moving her so that she couldn’t be used as evidence against him.
Allowing her to live—for now—meant she would carry her own weight in their rush to vacate the premises.
“All of you, listen to me. Shari made a near-unforgivable mistake, but forgive her we shall.” He smiled down at her, and the brainless twit wilted with pleasure at his benevolence.
Sickening. At the earliest opportunity, he would dissect her heart and use it to season gravy.
Drawing a deep breath for clarity, Fabian redirected his talents. “Our efforts must now be concentrated on destroying this site.”
Always, as a precaution, he kept tools nearby to use in just such emergencies. Now they would come in handy.
“Get the fuel canisters stored out back. Pour gasoline in the basement. Be certain to douse anything that might hold fingerprints. When that is done, torch it, and get out. I’ll contact you later with further instructions. Make it quick.”
When Shari started to move away, Fabian grabbed her arm. “Not you.” Leading her toward the back door where he would make a safe escape, Fabian explained, “You will remain by my side.”
She licked her lips with nervousness. “You require something of me?”
Dark red bruises encircled her throat, and a definite rasp sounded in her voice, but she wanted only to gain his favor. Pathetic bitch.
With every second, his loathing of her escalated. “Yes, I want you near me where I can ensure you won’t err again.”
“Oh.” Crestfallen at the mild rebuke, she dropped her head and wrapped her arms around herself, following him in silence.
Someone had treated her poorly, someone male, and now she lived only to serve men. Would she willingly give him her blood?
Probably. He’d test that theory once he had them both safely away from the house.
