“How long we been at this?” he asks sluggishly.
His head hangs forward, chin nearly touching his chest. One eye swollen. Blood drips from the corner of his mouth and lands on the floor between his shoes.
No one answers him.
Spike stands near the door with his arms crossed, jaw tight, watching me like he’s waiting for the moment I finally become too far gone to pull back from.
Bones is quieter than I’ve ever heard him. Which is wild considering who he is.
The twins and Foster are somewhere outside making sure we’re not disturbed.
And Victor Dane sits in the chair in the middle of the room, smiling like he’s won something.
Maybe he has.
Because four hours have passed.
Four hours since Nico and Marco dragged him in.
Four hours of beating answers out of him.
And I have nothing.
No location.
No confirmation.
No proof they’re even alive.
Nothing but his bloody smile and the sound of time slipping through my fingers.
“You took them,” I say.
Victor lifts his head slowly.
His eyes are glassy, but there’s still something ugly alive in them.
“I took many things.”
I step closer.
“Amelia Moore,” I say. “Olivia Moore. Where are they?”
Victor’s mouth twitches.
“Pretty names.”
My hand closes around his throat.
“Where are they?”
His pulse flutters weakly beneath my palm.
For a second, I think he’ll finally break.
His face goes red.
His mouth opens, and I release his throat so he can talk.
