Pushing away the anxiety that stirred in my chest, tightening around my heart before traveling up to my neck and my already aching forehead.
Think calm thoughts. You're alive. That's a start. Whatever's going on here, if they wanted you dead, you'd be dead.
My throat was so dry, when I tried to swallow, it felt like my larynx was scraping against itself.
The inside of my mouth tasted bitter. What was the last thing I ate?
I remembered drinking coffee in my restaurant. This wasn’t the bitter aftertaste from the delicious beverage. No, this was something else. Did someone slip something into my drink?
Cass fell against me.
Getzoff. He was there too, wasn't he? Yes, he fell before the rest of us. It wasn't my drink that was spiked, it was all of ours.
Someone was in a whole heap of shit when I got out of here. I didn't call myself Chef Stabby for nothing. This was going to come out in all its bloody glory. Whoever did this to us, I was going tofuck them up.
I swallowed again and tried to open my eyes. Why did I have sandpaper in my tear ducts?
I blinked it away and glanced around.
Wherever I was, it was dark. The floor underneath was concrete, cold and hard. Perfect for breaking heads.
Other people's heads, not mine.
"Miss St. James," a voice said. Smooth as silk.
I responded with an angry hum, and tried to sit up. The pounding in my head worsened.
"How nice of you to join us." he said.
Definitely a male voice. Not Getzoff. Not any of my men either.
I tried to place it, but I didn't recognize whoever they were.
"What do you want?" I managed to croak out.
"I was wondering the same thing," he said.
Before I could ask, a groan sounded from beside me. What was Detective Getzoff doing here?
I turned my face far enough to see him a couple of feet away. His wrists and ankles were bound as well.
"I heard a rumor." A chair creaked as our captor rose. His silhouette was slender as he moved around the room. "The rumor is, the good detective here might be investigating me and my associates."
Understanding came crashing in on me.
There was a reason they called him Hypnos. It wasn’t because he hypnotized people. He drugged them to get them under his control. Men like him, they thrived on power.
I had to keep that thought in my mind. Try not to give him power over me. At the same time, try not to threaten him too much. If his back was against the wall, he'd come out swinging.
Right now he held all the cards.
"What are you talking about?" Getzoff asked. He struggled to sit up and stare into the shadows. "I'm hunting a serial killer."
Of course he was forthcoming with that information now. He wanted to save his own skin, didn't he? Fair enough. That was why I was here too, in a manner of speaking.
I glanced around.
None of my men were here as far as I could see. What had he done with them? Were they…
