Page 86 of Heir of Ashes

“Get back,” I called, my voice unnervingly cheerful.

“Miss Fosch, you don’t need to do this,” one of the guards called back.

I chuckled, the sound harsh. “I said move away.” I flexed my talon for emphasis, breaking the skin.

There were muttered curses, but they complied.

“You shouldn’t have pissed me off,” I crooned.

“Miss Fosch, that was never our intention,” the same guard said tactfully.

I snorted, letting a drop of blood well up under my talon.

“Miss, you don’t want to do this,” another guard said in a harder tone.

“Really? And how the hell do you know what I want?”

More footsteps approached. “Tell me where my friends are,” I demanded, but only silence and heavy breathing answered me. I could almost see the guards eyeing each other, communicating silently.

Maybe they needed some incentive to cooperate. “I’ll count to three,” I said. “One.”

“Miss Fosch, there’s no need for this. Let the guard go and we’ll talk,” the same guard insisted.

“Roxy, don’t do this,” a familiar voice called, one I thought—hoped—I’d never hear again. “We’ll work this out. If you let him go now, I promise we’ll find something that works for both of us.”

“Dr. Maxwell,” I said flatly. “I wondered when you’d join us. What took you so long?”

“I was a little busy. But I’m free now. What can I do for you? Why don’t you let the guard go so we can talk? We’ll go to your previous suite and close the door behind us. Just you and me. No guards.”

“How brave of you,” I mocked. “And if I promise to behave, will you bring me chocolate and cookies too?”

“Of course. Anything you want.”

“And will experiment days be only once a week?”

“We’ll work something out,” he soothed.

My sarcasm seemed to bounce right off him. “How nice of you. And over the next fifty-seven months, you’ll be such a warm friend, visiting me and sneaking me magazines and junk food—”

“Yes, of course, anything—”

“And,” I raised my voice in fury, “turn a blind eye when I get unexpected, excited visitors in the middle of the night?”

A shocked silence followed as the meaning of my words sank in. I laughed, a bitter, hysterical sound.

“Come on, Dr. Maxwell, don’t act so shocked. You were aware of Dr. Dean’s nightly escapades. You just weren’t man enough to confront him and risk losing your precious job.” Inside, I was horrified by the open revelation.

“Where is he now? Dr. Dean?” the guard asked, recovering quickly.

“Ah, well, aren’t we the concerned employee? I’m afraid Dr. Dean’s meeting with Remo Drammen didn’t go as planned.”

“He was heading the operation to rescue you—”

I scoffed. “Kidnap, you mean.”

The guard continued, “All the guards who accompanied him were killed in the process. Dr. Dean never returned. His body was never found. Did you kill him?”

“And you’ll never find him. He got what he deserved. Did you know he was in league with Remo Drammen? You know about him, Dr. Maxwell. I’ve heard you talk about him before. The black sorcerer? Yes? Dr. Dean made a bargain with him. He got to have that old man you had locked up in exchange for me. Except he broke a rule by taking me to the Low Lands without permission. Did you know that, Dr. Maxwell? Traveling through the paths without permission warrants the death penalty?”

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