Page 101 of Deadly Secrets
“I wasn’t awake for the drive, so I have no sense of which direction they took us or how long we were in the truck. From what I can see and smell, this seems like an old prison of some sort. Or maybe an empty warehouse.”
Great. That sounded fun. She sniffed the air and picked up dust and mildew. Something else too. Urine? Sweat?
The tang of old blood?
A chill rose from the concrete floor up her legs and she shivered. People had probably been tortured here. Maybe even left to die. “Why did they kidnap us? Why not just kill us?”
“They want information is my guess. Information that only you or I can give them.”
“Or this is some sick game.”
“Could be that.”
“You could at least argue and try to make me feel better.”
He chuckled tiredly. “Sorry, I don’t have the energy at the moment.”
“The man who hauled me out of the ambulance…do you think he’s The Reverend?”
“He wasn’t with the others on the boulders, but he must have been nearby. He picked up Douglas and ambushed the ambulance.”
“They shot the driver. Shot out the tires. We skidded, went into the ditch, and ended up on our side.”
His fingers brushed hers again and tugged at the plastic ties around her wrists. “I’ll get us out of here, Brooke. All we have to do is stay alive.”
His voice brokered no doubt—he truly believed he was about to save the day. He was worse off than she suspected, but ever the hero, he’d finally stepped up to reassure her.
The clink of keys at the door made Brooke tense. Her eyes had at least adjusted to the bright light.
The door swung open and Douglas strolled in. “The princess is awake,” he called over his shoulder to someone she couldn’t see.
He bent to her eye level, close enough she could see the flecks of brown in his eyes. “We meet again face-to-face.”
At least he didn’t seem to notice that Roman had moved his chair. Maybe Douglas hadn’t been the one to put them in here.
Just how many were here?
Brooke steeled her nerves, swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I know who you are, Douglas. What I don’t know is why you brought me here.”
“My name isn’t Douglas, bitch. It’s Mikhail. Mikhail Zion. And you’re about to learn your place in the family.”
Family? “My name isn’tbitch, it’s Brooke, so if you want me to call you Mikhail instead of Douglas, you’ll do me the same courtesy of using my given name.”
Behind her, Roman hissed at her brassiness. She expected derision, maybe even a slap from her captor. Instead, Douglas—Mikhail—smiled at her and chucked her on the chin. “Well, well. My sister has stones.”
Sister?If Brooke hadn’t been tied to the chair, she would have fallen over.
A tightness that had nothing to do with fear for her and Roman’s life sat like a pit in her diaphragm. “I assume you’re using the termstonesas a euphemism for testicles, which if you think about it, are the most sensitive parts on a male of any species and the easiest target to hit in order to disable one. It’s not a compliment to say someone has stones. And I’m not your sister. I don’t have any siblings, and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t be related to the likes of you.”
Mikhail chuckled. “Listen to you, being all flippant and smartass as if you don’t know who your real mother is. Of course, if I were you, I wouldn’t claim that cur either. Let’s hope you have more Zion blood in you than American.”
…your real mother.
Sister.
Family.
Her brain cramped just thinking about it. “Zion…blood?”
