Page 107 of Ash Storm

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Ash

Griffin was the one to find the lever, hidden behind a set of antique, hard cover Encyclopedia Britannica tomes.

They both leaned back as the bookshelf opened up to reveal a separate room—the missing square feet.

It was a different, darker place. This was the dungeon Ash had been expecting—four stone walls, illuminated by a lone, dim light bulb, hanging like a pendulum from a string.

Ash stepped past the threshold.

A shadow out of the corner of his eye was the only warning before something slammed over his head.

Ash grunted and raised his arm, deflecting a second blow. With his other hand, he grasped the moving figure by the wrist, careful not to grip too hard, until she dropped the metallic tray.

It fell to the floor with a clang.

The tray wasn’t heavy enough to have stopped him, but Ash didn’t say that. He was just glad that Chloe was still fighting back.

“You won’t touch me,” Chloe said, baring her teeth at him, her eyes so full of fear that Ash felt sick to his stomach.

It was cold in the room, and the see-through gown she was wearing didn’t look like it offered much protection. It looked like the same dress she’d been wearing in Istanbul. Ash hoped that meant something. Maybe that bastard hadn’t touched her yet.

“Chloe,” Ash said.

A thin thread of blood trailed down the side of his head. He wiped at it impatiently with his sleeve.

The young woman’s eyes widened. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

Griffin stepped into the room with him.

“We’ve come looking for you.” He raised his wrist to show her the bracelet he was wearing.

“That’s Aileen’s bracelet,” Chloe said. “Aileen … Reka … are they …”

“They’re okay. We’re going to take you to them.”

Chloe’s body swayed, as if the news was too much.

Ash and Griffin both reached out to her. Griffin reached her first, lifting the young woman in his arms.

Griffin’s jaw tensed.

Ash would have offered to take her, but he needed his arms free.

Ash led the way back out into the games room area. They would go out the window, the same way they’d come.

“Not so fast,” a deep voice said.