He raised the weapon he’d taken out of Domino’s chest, and it didn’t look magical. It looked like a short sword, but the blade was almost pyramid shaped and the blade wasn’t . . . It seemed heavier and oddly shaped. I tried to look at the blade coldly, trying to see the magic in it and not Domino’s blood all over it. If I looked at it clinically I wouldn’t start screaming again—maybe.
The one who was sitting on me moved, and I was there to sweep at his hand with the needle in it. “Come help me hold her.”
There was a noise behind me. The younger one looked at the source of the noise. “If you don’t want me to kill that one, too, we need to get out of here before he comes to.”
“Then help me with her.”
I wanted to look back for Ethan, but he was only unconscious; they’d said so, and there was no reason for them to lie about it after what they’d just done to Domino. I kept my attention on the two men in the room who could hurt me; the rest would have to wait. I prayed for Ethan and for myself and for Domino, though I knew dead when I saw it. The dead don’t need prayers; that’s for the living.
“You’re not going to win this one, Anita Blake.” It was the young guy, standing over me now. There were no extra lines on his face; he still looked about seventeen, but his eyes . . . It was like looking into two dark caves.
There was another small sound behind me. It sounded like a knife moving in flesh, but that couldn’t be it. Our attackers were in front of me, and Ethan was alone. Calm, I had to be calm, had to think. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
He smiled. “I am Rodrigo, and this is Hamish.”
“Do not give her our names.”
“Why not? She’s not going to tell anyone.”
That let me know they meant to kill me, not here and now, but I wasn’t getting away to share any information. So why not kill me here, and could I reach my gun before they killed me, or knocked me out? The big man settled more solidly against my waist.
“Forget the gun. You can’t get to it,” he said.
He was right. I hated that he was right, but he was. “What do you want?”
“Aren’t you going to ask why?” Rodrigo asked.
“Why what?” I asked.
“Why we’re doing this? Why we killed them? Why we haven’t killed you?”
“No, I’m not going to ask any of that.”
“Why not?” he asked, and smiled, as if he realized the irony.
“Because it won’t help.”
He looked at me with those cave-dark eyes. I realized the only other person I’d ever seen with eyes like that was a serial killer, and one of the most frightening people I’d ever met. It let me know what I was dealing with, but I bet he hid behind that youthful face and slaughtered people, joyously.
“My, how very practical of you.”
“You have no idea how practical I can be, Rodrigo.”
Rodrigo laughed, head back and delighted. “Was that a veiled threat? Do you think you will ever be in a position to harm me? Oh, that is optimism such as I have not heard in centuries.”
“Don’t tease her,” Hamish said.
“What does it matter?”
“The look she’s giving you matters.”
Rodrigo knelt beside us; his knee brushed my arm and I moved away. He tried to pin my arm, but I kept moving it away. He frowned at me like I was a misbehaving child. “Now, Anita, you know you can’t possibly elude us. We will pin you and Hamish will give you the shot.”
“I know,” I said.
“Then it’s not very practical for you to struggle against the inevitable, is it?”
“I suppose not.”
“But you’re going to struggle anyway, aren’t you?”
I lay there, looking up at both of them. The big guy was getting sort of heavy on my waist and stomach. Funny how if I was having good sex the man never seemed that heavy, but in other circumstances I realized just how much smaller I was than most men. I wasn’t going anywhere with him sitting like that, but I didn’t have to move him. I just had to keep him from sticking whatever was in the syringe into me. If I could delay everything long enough I was still hoping that the cavalry would ride to the rescue; I just needed to give them as much time as I could. “Yes, I’m going to struggle anyway.”
“We aren’t supposed to kill you, but we can hurt you. If you make us hold you down like this, I will use it as an excuse to cause you pain.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” I said.
“He will enjoy hurting you,” Hamish said.
“I believe that.”
“Do not put yourself at his mercy, Anita Blake.”
“I’m not at his mercy. You’re here, Hamish.”
“Do not look to me for protection from Rodrigo. That would be a grave mistake.” He said it and he meant it, but he wasn’t happy about it. Again, I smelled division in the ranks.
“Duly noted,” I said.
“I like hurting people,” Rodrigo said.
“You like killing people,” I said.
“That, too, but I really do enjoy a slower death; otherwise I’d have stabbed your lover through the heart, instead of the lungs.”
I couldn’t keep my eyes neutral. It made him smile wider. “Oh, you didn’t like that at all. Let’s do this, Hamish. I know what sweet nothings I want to whisper in her ear.”