Page 27 of Girl, Reborn

Compressed air hissed from the base asmore of the noxious fluid was pumped into his transparent sarcophagus. Marcus'smind tracked the ruthless arithmetic: rate times volume equals dead engineer.Drowned like a rat in a high-tech barrel.

His gut clenched as the true horror of thesituation sank in. This was no mere captivity, no crude revenge fantasy. It wastorture by fluid dynamics, a calculated construct playing to his most primalfear – the inexorable march of time, meted out drip by maddening drip. Death bythe very fundamental principles that had been his raison d'etre.

It was almost elegant in its cruelty.Poetic, if he'd had a single lyrical bone in his body. But all higher thoughtwas obliterated by the animal shriek of his primal brain. By the icy claws ofterror ripping through his viscera as the water crept toward the next hashmark.

He tried to call up schematics in hishead, overlay this evil machine with something familiar, something solvable.Archimedes' screw, a gravel filter, anything to tame the impossible intoengineering.

But for once, the numbers failed him. Thecomforting solidity of immutable laws dissolved into the sloshing chaos of histomb.

Marcus screamed then. A hoarse, brokensound that barely registered above the dripping. He bellowed and thrashed andpleaded, dignity be damned. Let his captor think him craven, pathetic, a wormwailing in the mud. If it earned him one more second, one more gasping breath,it would be worth it.

But no one came. No one heard. He wasalone, forsaken, abandoned to drown in this demented fishbowl. And with afinal, sickening click, the magnitude of his doom settled over him.

He was going to die here.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ella stormed back into the precinctwith the threatening letters tucked under her arm, each one carefully sealed in anevidence bag to preserve any trace of the sick freak who'd penned them.

But even as she moved with purpose, hermind was a million miles away, spinning like a hamster wheel on speed.

Mia. Missing. The words circled round andround like a skipping record needle. Her partner, her rock, the one constant inthe shitstorm of her life – AWOL.

It couldn't be real. Couldn't behappening. Not now, not like this. They were fighting, yeah, caught in thefallout of secrets kept and lines crossed. But Mia was a goddamn force ofnature, indestructible, unbreakable. It didn’t make a lick of sense. She didn’tdo damsel in distress. The only way she’d disappear is if she was no longerbound by her own willpower.

Martin. Martin goddamn Godfrey. It had tobe him.

But what could she do? She wasfour-hundred miles away, and she had a killer to catch. Part of her thoughtabout ditching this place and heading home. Start at Mia’s house, follow thetrail, try and uncover where exactly the stupid old hag might have vanished to.

She booted up her ancient laptop andstabbed the keys harder than necessary. Anything to keep her hands busy whileher mind spun. And Luca, bless his pretty-boy heart, clocked her mood in twoseconds flat.

‘You okay, Ella? You look like someonejust peed in your cereal.’

‘That’s just my face.’ She smacked theside of the monitor, muttered a curse as the cursor froze midscreen.

‘Hey, c’mon. Was it something at Toledo’splace?’

‘No. I mean, yeah.’ A lie, bold-faced asbrass balls. But the truth wasn't an option. Not when she could barely admit itto herself.

‘Really.’ Luca's tone said he wasn'tbuying her bullcrap, not for a red cent. ‘You know I can read you like a book.’

Damn him. Damn his quick eyes and his keeninstincts and his uncanny knack for ferreting out her soft spots. She couldn'tafford this, not now. Couldn't risk cracking open the vault of her messed-uppsyche when there was a killer to catch.

‘I'm fine.’ She infused the words withsteel. ‘Just… something on the phone.’

Luca’s eyebrows shot up his head. ‘Wannanarrow that down?’

‘I said I'm fine.’ It came out harsherthan she'd intended. Luca blinked, hand falling away. Guilt twinged in Ella'schest, but she pushed it down. Shoved it into the overflowing box labeled ‘stuffto deal with never.’

She didn't have time for this. Didn't havethe luxury of falling apart, of leaning on someone else's strength. She’dhandle her business like she always did – alone.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean it likethat.’

‘Don’t sweat it. We all have our bitchdays.’

Ella accepted the backhandedjustification. Then said, ‘Just...man the fort for a sec, okay? I gotta make acall.’

Luca hesitated, clearly torn betweenpushing and giving her space. But in the end, he conceded defeat. ‘Whatever yousay, boss.’