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“He’s going to be a problem.” Another man is in the room with us.
“Oh, no he’s not,” Wolf-voice replies. “I’ll take care of this little fucker.”
“No!” Lara screams, and I try to stop the room from spinning.
I try to get to my feet.
It’s no use. A violent kick to my stomach sends me flying down onto my side, another blast of pain shatters through my body. More kicks, one after the other, and I’m coughing up blood. Still, they don’t stop beating me.
The taste of copper fills my mouth, and I see the boot just before it flies at my face. I manage to get my arms up in time to block it from hitting my eyes, but my deflection only makes my attacker angrier.
“You want to be a hero?” the man shouts. “Heroes don’t last long in this place.”
“Stop, please!” Lara’s cry is more of a whimper now, and I look up to see her face shining and slick with tears. Her eyes are red and her nose is swollen.
Terror is on her face,
and I try to reach for her. I try to say her name one last time. I’m sure the words are on my lips. I stretch out my hand. “Lara?”
It’s the last thing I remember before another blast of pain hits my head, and everything goes black…
It’s black as pitch when I open my eyes again.
Time has passed, but I don’t know how much.
My entire body is a vessel of intense pain. The flavor of blood is still in my mouth. I try to move, but my wrists are tied to my ankles. I try to roll, but my shoulder collides with hard wood. I’m in some kind of box. I’m rocking side to side in a rhythm, and as I listen, I hear a familiar noise. I hear the sound of a train.
I’m tied up in the dark in a box on a train.
I didn’t save Larissa.
I can’t let myself think about how they might have hurt her.
I’ll never see her again.
It’s the end of my story…
Part Two
Corruption
“Sex is only dirty when you do it right.” –Anonymous
Lara
Fear pools at the base of my spine, but I keep moving to the other side of the bar.
He isn’t supposed to be here.
He’s supposed to be dead.
And while I’m reeling with the joy of finding him alive and well, I’m having difficulty breathing knowing why we’re here. He can’t figure us out.
“I always wanted to visit New Orleans,” Aleister interrupts the panicked thoughts that have been swirling in my brain since I entered the dining car and saw Mark sitting at the bar. I couldn’t believe it was really him until Esterhaus confirmed it. “Tell me your favorite part of the city.”
Aleister has a thin mustache and greasy hair, and he smells like the inside of a shoebox. Still, I keep him between Mark and me like a shield.
“The darkness,” I answer truthfully. “I miss the supernatural hanging in the air.”
