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Once I make it past the private party rooms, I find myself in a corridor bordering the massive back lawn. Guards patrol with flashlights out there, so I stay away from the windows and keep my phone tucked in my purse, so they won't see the glow of my screen.
I come to a right angle turn, and rush around it…right into the chest of one of the guards I’d duped before.
“There you are,” he says, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Mr. Wyatt is looking for you–”
I don’t think, I just move. My hand darts into my purse and withdraws the stun gun. The huge man looks at it and laughs.
“What are you going to do with that? Just hand it over before you get hurt.”
He reaches for the stun gun. I jam the metal studs into his forearm and squeeze the trigger. The snapping crackle of electricity is so loud it scares me. The guard spasms, his mouth open in a silent scream, before he collapses to the floor.
He’s still moving, so I jab him in the back and pull the trigger again. He seizes up, then collapses fully onto the floor, groaning slightly. I stop shocking him and stow the stun gun in my purse, half-running down the hallway.
“Gray?” I yell, no longer worried about stealth. “Gray, where are you?”
I come upon a set of double doors, closed tight. I can see light coming from underneath, and hear voices on the other side. I reach for the door handle when my shoe squishes onto the wet carpet.
My gaze darts down, then widens with horror. I’m standing in a small pool of blood.
“Gray–”
A hand clamps over my mouth, silencing my scream.
22
GRAYSON
Ice cold water slaps into my face and body, dragging me back to the realm of conscious thought. The chill deluge causes a cut on my cheek to sting. I’m not surprised when I try to move and I can’t. I can feel paracord digging into my wrists and ankles, and bare metal framework against my back.
“Wakey wakey, Mr. Spook.”
I look in the direction of the voice, and see it’s a muscled up performance artist with his nose bent to the side. His eyes say it all–he really wants to make me hurt, like I made him hurt.
“You don’t expect me to believe,” I say, working the soreness out of my jaw as I speak, “that a steroid-abusing freak like you is a member of the Aegis Order?”
His face twists into a scowl.
“There’s nothing in Order dogma that goes against being in good shape.”
“Dogma?” I sputter, before letting out a mocking laugh. “Dogma? Just listen to yourself. You really are in a cult.”
The big man moves toward me, but another voice cuts him off.
“No Glen. Wait until the Supreme Leader arrives. He’s not to be touched until then.”
“Yeah, Glen,” I say as snidely as I can. “Wait for the supreme leader. Who was that again?”
I take in more details about the room I’m in as my mind wakes up fully. The man who spoke isn’t a bodybuilder, but I do recognize him as one of the men in the rec room last time we visited Wyatt’s villa. He pushes his spectacles up on his nose and regards me with apparent apathy.
There are two other big men in the room, both of them showing signs of our struggle. I don’t even remember roughing them up this much. I guess I really gave them Hell before they finally took me down. That makes me glad, at least.
The man with glasses, who seems to be ostensibly in charge, sits beside a big battery charger, one of the types with its own rolling cart attached. I don’t have to follow the wires to know they terminate in clamps attached to the bare bed frame I’ve been tied to.
I’m not looking forward to the torture, but I’m more worried about Charlotte than I am for myself. I need to find a way to ask about her without seeming like that’s what I’m doing. I don’t know how, though.
I didn’t plan on this. I thought I could handle whatever I ran into in Wyatt’s manor. Clearly I underestimated the Order’s resources…not to mention their presence here in the villa. If Wyatt’s not aware of them, then someone who is close to the man surely is.
I suppose I’ll find out when this supreme leader finally shows himself.
