Chapter Fifteen
Kait
Kait looked up when the door opened, but it was not Lawrence. Instead, flanked by the usual two heavies, stood a woman of indeterminate age in a blue bodysuit, with her hair back in a severe ponytail.
She immediately felt an instinctive wave of dread.This woman is bad news.
“My name is Miss Shaw. You may address me as Miss Shaw or ma’am. Do you understand?” It was phrased as a question but was really an instruction.
Kait did not see anything to be gained by pissing the woman off.Tread carefully, Kait,at least until you get the lay of the land.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kait answered respectfully.
“Get up,” Miss Shaw ordered. “It’s time to prepare you.”
A million questions came to Kait’s lips, but this was not the time, so she simply got to her feet.
“Follow me.” Miss Shaw turned and walked down the corridor. Kait eyed the heavies then passed them. They fell into step behind her. She tried to take in as much of her environment as she could, but the nondescript halls gave little away. If this was theStella Maris, she couldn’t imagine this was a section for paying customers.Must be a service area or something like that?
Miss Shaw flashed her key card against a sensor and motioned Kait through a door.Looks like…an elevator? The interior was lush compared to the stark white of the halls she’d been escorted through. “Obey every command you’re given, without question. Please believe me when I say your very life depends on it.”
Fear twisted at Kait’s stomach, but she struggled to keep her face neutral. “Yes, ma’am.”
Suddenly, Kait came to a realization.She’s scared.What the hell are we heading into?
The elevator doors opened. Miss Shaw stepped out then motioned Kait past her.
“Good luck, and remember what I said,” said Miss Shaw softly, and stepped back into the elevator with the two security men. The doors slid shut.
“Ah, Miss Pyne,” a voice spoke from behind her.
Kait turned to find herself in something like a larger version of Aurelian’s playroom. Her heart sank. At the far end of the room, a man sat in an overstuffed black wingback chair.
Middle-aged, he wore a dark linen suit, one leg folded over the other, the hem of his slacks breaking gracefully over his wingtip shoe. Ice clinked as he took a sip of amber liquid from a heavy cut-crystal tumbler. “Please, Miss Pyne, come forward.”
Kait walked past the various furniture and implements to stand about five feet from him.
“Hello, Miss Pyne. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Harold Dawes.” He had a cruel face, like a bird of prey. “And so there are no misunderstandings, Miss Pyne, do you know what this is?” He held up a squat, bulbous pistol.
Kait swallowed. “It’s a flechette pistol,” she managed.
“Correct,” he said. “If I feel the least bit threatened, this will tear the flesh from your bones. There will be no second chances. Understood?”
Kait nodded. In her head, she was assessing the risk of trying to take it from him. She did not think her chances were good, but if it looked like the situation was turning fatal, she’d take her chances.
“Very good, Miss Pyne,” said Dawes, chortling in the manner of someone well pleased with himself. “Now, why don’t we have a look at you? Clothes off.”
Well, I guessed this was coming. Stay strong, hon, and look for opportunities.
She removed her clothes and stood naked under his lecherous gaze.
“Not bad,” he said appraisingly, as if looking at a stock animal. “I can see the family resemblance.”
Kait’s entire body turned cold.
Dawes laughed cruelly. “Oh yes, Kait, I knew Talia. The poor girl.”
Kait trembled with the effort of not diving for the man’s throat.
