Page 26 of Craved

I draw a breath, then another. Then, slowly, I realize that I’m not tied down at all. That was a remnant of the dream. But I am in a bed in a small, dark room.

And—oh, joy—I’m naked.

There’s a single sheet on the dingy mattress, and I slide off the bed, then wrap the sheet around myself as a make-shift toga. I’m alone, so it’s not so much for modesty—though I can’t discount the possibility of peepholes or spy cameras—but because I’ll think better if I’m at least semi-clad.

The first thing I need to think about is getting the hell out of here.

I glance around, taking a fast assessment of the place. A bed. A wooden chair. A boarded-up window. A narrow beam of early-morning light has snuck through, and dust dances in the light. Across the room, there’s an open door through which I can see a sliver of a sink, and a closed door locked with six deadbolts.

I don’t have to be a genius to know they can’t be unlocked from this side. Even so, I go over there and check.

Just that short walk is exhausting, and I scrub my hands over my face, then lean against the wall. I’m a little dizzy, but other than that, I don’t seem to have any lingering effect from whatever drug he injected me with.

So far so good.

That, however, is about the only thing that’s good. For one thing, I don’t have my phone. Which means that I have no way of calling Brax at the number he made me memorize. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Worse, while a quick check reveals I’m still wearing the small opal stud earrings I habitually wear when I travel, the stud I wear in the second hole in my right earlobe is missing. Which means that Maxim discovered—and removed—the tiny location beacon that, when activated, would have sent the emergency SOS to Zane Parker.

Still, I wasn’t tied to the bed, despite the fact that I see handcuffs attached to the wrought-iron bed posts. So that’s a plus. More, the door to the bathroom is open, so even if they manage to keep me in here for days, I’ll have water and facilities.

I’m trapped, yes. But I’m not being tortured.

Why?

The only reason I can think of is that Maxim is too busy getting ready for whatever it is that Killion has planned. All the chatter we’ve been able to pick up indicates that D-Day is going down soon, but if I can’t get out of this room, I sure as hell can’t do anything to stop it.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

Time is slipping away and not only am I still a zillion miles away from being any use whatsoever, but I have no way of contacting anyone at Stark Security to let them know I’m fucked. And, to top it off, I can’t even begin to figure out how to go about stopping it…because I still don’t know what it is.

Shit.

My only consolation is that I’m probably not the only agent currently working on this. With a threat this hot, Ryan probably sent at least one other team to New York. On top of that, all of Stark Security is most likely working with the SOC, MI6, Interpol, and a half dozen other organizations all over the world.

All true, but it doesn’t make me feel better. My past with Maxim gives me unique access. And somehow, I blew it. I have no idea what I did to make him suspicious, but considering I’m trapped in a tiny room, I’m thinking the odds of him letting me join the mission are slim.

Still, he’s my best bet, and time is running out.

With that clock ticking down in my head, I start pounding on the door and shouting his name. “Dammit, Maxim! You come talk to me! You owe me, and you fucking know it!”

I have no idea if my shouts will entice him. Or, for that matter, if he can even hear me. But at the moment, I’m all out of other options.

I pound again. “Maxim! Maxim! You answer me right now!”

“Back away from the door.” I jump as Maxim’s voice fills the room, and my heart is pounding like a hammer as I look up, searching for the hidden speakers. I don’t find them, but I do see a glimmer that is probably the refection off a camera lens.

I flip it the bird.

“Now,” he says, “or I flood this room with tranq. You really want to take another nap? It’s not the kind of drug that makes for easy sleep.”

I want to stand my ground, but I also need to not only stay awake but to get him in this room. Right now, I’m completely impotent. But once Maxim opens that door… Well, unfortunately, I’m not Ethan Hunt, and neither is any real person working in espionage. But there still might be an opportunity. At the very least, I have to hope.

I step back, hands up, just a girl following instructions. As I do, I notice a shiny little gleam on the floor, and my heart does a happy dance.

Maybe I’ll get lucky after all…

I don’t have time to think about that, though, because the door’s opening and Maxim is stepping over the threshold.