What the hell?
I force my eyes open. My lids feel like lead weights are pressing on them. The air is thick, my brain foggy and aching.
Realization hits. I was drugged. Someone fucking drugged me.
But who?
Fluorescent lights flicker overhead. I squint from my position on the floor. Looks like a vacant warehouse. It’s a big space with exposed pipes running along the ceiling and water stains staining the cinderblock walls that surround me. Pallets arestacked in corners. A metal chair is bolted to the floor about ten feet away from where I lay.
My shoulders are screaming. A dancer’s flexibility means I can feel exactly how excruciating this position is, and it’s only going to get worse when the drugs wear off.
Footsteps approach. But they’re slow, like the person who took me is in no hurry to be exposed.
A shadow finally falls over me.
“You’re awake. Good. I was worried I gave you too much.”
Leon.
Leon?
He crouches down. His eyes are vacant. Completely hollow and ice cold. Nothing like the warm, helpful gaze of the friend I thought I knew.
“Leon.” My voice comes out cracked. “What?—?”
“Don’t talk yet.” He straightens, running a hand through his hair. Sweat pebbles on his temples even though it’s cool in here. His fingers tremble before he steeples them in front of his face. “The sedative takes a while to clear. I’d rather have this conversation when you can properly understand what’s happening.”
I try to push myself up, but my arms won’t cooperate. I collapse back to the concrete, the cracked surface scraping against my cheek.
“Rest,” he says. “Your husband will be here soon enough.”
Declan.
The name slices through the fog of my memory. Declan. The brownstone. The animals going crazy. Raffy at the door. I was upset because Declan sent me to bed like a child. Then I went outside to clear my head and…
Leon was there. Waiting in the shadows.
I’d been shocked to see him. Then something sharp andsilver caught the overhead light. A gleaming knife pierced my throat. A hand slapped over my mouth.
Then…nothing.
“It was a beautiful coincidence, really. You appeared as if I’d summoned you. But I never even had to send a text or make a call.”
“You drugged me,” I say.
“I did.” No apology. “The element of surprise only works if you can’t fight back. And you would have, Marlowe. All that fire in that dancer’s body. You’d have fought. Hard.”
The calculated way he says it makes my skin crawl.
“Why would you do it? Why would you kidnap me?”
Leon laughs. It’s a hollow, horrible sound that grates against my ears and makes me shudder.
“Because you’re worth more as bait than you ever were as a friend.”
Then he leaves me.
Time passes. Minutes. Maybe an hour. It’s hard to tell when your brain feels like it’s wrapped in gauze.
