Skin Trade(203)
I felt the air move close to me and jerked back instinctively. I felt the passage of wind. A different jinn had tried to touch me. The man said, “You avoided his touch; not many humans are fast enough or psychic enough for that, but then you aren’t human, are you?”
I ignored the question, but I swear that the jinn’s attention wasn’t as neutral now. I’d almost say hostile, but maybe that was just nerves talking. Maybe.
Rocco whispered, “I don’t think they like you now.”
“You feel it, too.”
“Oh, yes.”
The man opened the door and held it for us, with a smile. I moved ahead of Rocco, as we’d discussed. Vittorio wanted me alive; he didn’t have the same feeling about the sergeant. So he had to bite his pride and let me take the most chances. Besides, we needed him alive to say the words over the jinn.
The back room was as I’d seen it through Vittorio’s eyes. Rick and Brianna were on their feet, arms stretched to the ceiling, where they were chained. Brianna was crying; her robe had come undone, and she was as naked underneath as she had been that first night when Ted and I were here. She stared at me over the tape that cut across her face. I could feel her terror coming off her in waves. It stirred the beasts inside me, and I told them to be quiet. For once, they listened. Rick wasn’t afraid, he was pissed. In fact, he was so angry, I wondered why he hadn’t shifted yet.
Ava was near Rick. She had a knife in her hand and played it along his skin as I watched. She didn’t cut him, just caressed him with it. There were weretigers scattered throughout the room. Their energy hummed through the air like wires stripped down, so you could feel the bite of it if you got too close. Most of them looked blank, as if waiting for instructions. How many people could he control at once, and how well?
I forced myself to see the room slowly, and not go straight to Requiem. I didn’t want to give Vittorio any more reason to hurt him. The more I cared, the more danger Requiem was in.
But Vittorio wasn’t standing by the table; he was sitting on the edge of the bed with Max and Bibiana. He’d stripped from the waist up so that his scars were very, very visible. They’d transferred Bibiana to the bed, she was tied with her hands above her head, around one bedpost, so that her body crossed one of Max’s arms, where his one arm was still tied to the one post. Her feet were chained to one of the bed legs, but she was short enough that her legs didn’t cross her husband’s body at the legs. She looked pale and delicate, a cliché princess waiting for rescue. Max was missing his shirt. Apparently, we’d had a little striptease while they waited, but he had kept his word. There was no new damage to their bodies, just some of their clothes.
“We’re here. Now what?”
“I want what I’ve wanted since I invited you to Vegas with my gift.”
“You mean the human head in a box?”
He smiled happily and nodded.
“Next time, just send a box of chocolates,” I said.
“Oh, but any man can do that. I thought my gift would be unique.”
I smiled, and could feel that it wasn’t a good smile. “Actually, I did receive a head in a basket once, as a gift.”
The smile was just gone, like it hadn’t existed. The old ones could do that-expression, then nothing in the blink of an eye. “Well, then, Anita, I will have to do something to prove myself unique among your admirers.”
I would have given a lot to take back that smart-ass comment. It had been true, but I could still have kept it to myself.
“Oh, trust me, this invitation was unique.”
“No, Anita, you’re right, I must try harder.” He was angry with me, as if I’d insulted him. “Let us play a game.”
“We came here to negotiate for the release of hostages,” Rocco said.
“And so we shall, Sergeant.” He patted Max’s bare stomach. “Come closer so you can see.”
We hesitated.
“Here is the first rule. When you make me repeat myself, something happens to one of your hostages.”
There was a sound from the other side of the room. Ava was carving a new cut down Rick’s chest. He didn’t scream, but a small sound had escaped him. Ava raised the blade to her mouth and licked the blood delicately away.
I turned back to Vittorio.
“You are not frightened or even impressed. I take it you’ve seen something similar before?”
I had, actually, more than once. Out loud, I said, “I don’t know what reaction you want from me; just tell me and I’ll try to give it to you.”
“What is the first rule?” he asked.
“That if we make you repeat your requests, you’ll have someone hurt.”