Oh, God, she was going to be sick.
What did he drug me with?
She was sitting in a chair, but when she tried to stand she couldn’t.
Restraints.
Her stomach convulsed. Gina turned her head and projectile-vomited.
“Ah, you’re awake. About time.”
Jeremy? No, I’m dreaming again. Jeremy is dead.
No, that wasn’t right. Jeremy was alive. He was alive and he was going to kill her.
“Maybe. It all depends on you,” Jeremy said, proving she was dreaming if he could read her mind like that.
Unless she was talking out loud.
Gina forced her eyes open. The light hurt. Whatever drug he’d given her was still in her system. She fought to think clearly though the fog that was filling her head. Where was she? How did she get here?
Wait, the bar. What happened? Malcolm.
She turned her head to the other side. There he was, also bound to a chair bolted to the floor. His head was slumped forward. They’d drugged him too. But how?
Everyone in the restaurant was sick. Did he somehow drug everyone?There was something… Something horrible.
Black spots multiplied in her vision and she went under again.
* * *
Gina jolted awake. A man was kneeling next to her. He’d just injected her with something. Adrenaline, judging by the way her heart raced like a jackrabbit running for its life. At least she was coherent, even if her head pounded.
God, she was thirsty.
“That hit you hard, didn’t it?” Jeremy said as he stood up. But it couldn’t be. Now that she got a good look at his profile, he didn’t look like her old mentor.
Until she looked into his eyes.
“Plastic surgery,” she croaked. She really needed some water.
Jeremy smiled as he touched his face. “You like it? I paid a fortune for it. Well,Ididn’t, actually.” He clasped his hands behind his back and started pacing back and forth in front of her. “The surgery was provided as payment for my services. One of many payments in many interesting currencies.”
Gina shuddered as the pieces fell into place. No; she’d already figured it out and Jeremy was only confirming what she already knew.
“Marcus Porter paid. You’ve been working for him for a long time.”
“So have you,” Jeremy said. “You’ve been one of his best generals.”
“No. Lies. Lied to.” Her voice cracked and broke. She closed her eyes and tried to focus. It hurt to think.
“Have some water, sweetheart.” She felt the rim of a plastic bottle against her lips. She drank down the cold water like it was ambrosia even as it made her head feel worse. Too cold, probably on purpose.
But it helped her focus. And she remembered Malcolm’s last words at the bar.
Annalie’s safe. But he’s got?—
Her pounding heart skipped.He’s got Lachlan.
