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Dark, cramped room. One blackened window separating her from the world. One dimly lit, freestanding lamp. One wooden chair. Concrete floor. Dirty mattress. Rough wool blanket. Definitely not the Ritz-Carlton.
Resources—none.
Limitations—plenty. Shackles. The excruciating pain in her hand. Being held prisoner by a serial sexual killer who had definite plans for her.
Conventional escape were out. Luke had a combat knife, a traveling drugstore, and a twisted mind. If she fought him, he’d slash her throat or drug her. Either way, she’d die in minutes.
Her only hope of survival was taking a more subtle
approach—at least until she figured out what Luke had planned. Not just for her, but for any other victims who might still be alive. Sloane had to find a way to comfortably ease him back into the friendship they’d shared. Maybe then she could earn a modicum of his trust, get the information she needed to fully assess the situation, and look for the best, one-shot opportunity she’d have to escape.
Footsteps sounded from down the hall, followed by a key inserted in her door lock.
Sloane took a slow, deep breath. The Bureau had trained her as a hostage negotiator at Quantico. She’d honed her crisis resolution and active listening skills in the field.
Time for the ultimate test.
This time the life she was negotiating for was her own.
Luke stepped into the room. His gaze immediately darted to Sloane. Illuminated by the hall light, he was fully and clearly visible for one brief moment before he shut the door behind him. In that moment, Sloane saw an opaque emptiness in his eyes that told her that the Luke she’d known—the one who could at least feign sanity—was gone.
“You’re awake,” he observed, crossing over to sit on the chair. “I wanted to be here when you woke up so you wouldn’t be afraid. But Gaia needed me. She was in pain. I couldn’t allow that. You understand.”
“Of course.” Sloane nodded. “May I ask who Gaia is?”
A soft smile curved Luke’s lips. “The supreme goddess. Goddess of the earth, the core of all creation. She rules over the sky, the mountains, and the sea.”
“The supreme goddess,” Sloane repeated, as if it were the most natural statement in the world to make. “And you said she was in pain. Are we talking about your mother? Is Lillian Gaia?”
“In this world, yes. But all that will change very soon.”
“Were you able to relieve her pain? Is she comfortable now?”
A startled look, but one of gratitude and pleasure, crossed Luke’s face. Not a surprise, given his attachment to Lillian.
“That’s very kind of you to ask,” he responded. “Yes, she’s resting peacefully now. I had to administer additional morphine.” A pause, during which Sloane noted the tiniest flicker of sanity in his eyes. “I didn’t expect this to happen so quickly. Of course my plans are in order, but…” He shrugged, and the sanity was gone. “Nature works as she chooses. All I can do is relieve her pain, sit by her side, and let her know how precious she is. I take solace in the fact that, although her life here on earth is about to end, her life on Mount Olympus will last forever.”
Sloane had no clue what all these references to Mount Olympus meant, but it was time to find out.
“Gaia is fortunate to have a son who cares so deeply, and one who’s medically trained to ease her suffering,” she said aloud.
“It’s I who am blessed. I’m proud that I could become a son who’s worthy of her. Gaia devoted her life to enlightening me. She taught others conventional knowledge, but she taught me the difference between good and evil, and stressed all the attributes that would make me deserving of my place on Mount Olympus.”
This time the reference to Mount Olympus caused a sliver of memory to flash in Sloane’s mind. Something Luke had said just before she’d blacked out, when he was shooing away the hounds.
You’ll miss her, he’d told them. But it won’t be for long. You’ll join us at Mount Olympus very soon. Artemis will decree it. She needs her hounds.
Artemis. Gaia. Mount Olympus.
The connection gave Sloane a good starting point.
“I’m not an expert in Greek mythology,” she told Luke truthfully. “But you keep mentioning Mount Olympus. And I remember your calling me Artemis earlier in the day. Is that because I’m an archer and because I have my hounds?”
Again, pride and pleasure. “Actually, it’s the other way around. It’s because you’re Artemis that you act as you act, and do as you do. But I’m glad you see the correlation.”
“Is this Mount Olympus?”
Luke looked amused. “Hardly. This is a dungeon. And I’m sorry you have to be confined to it. It won’t be for long. As soon as I’m convinced I can trust you, I’ll move you to your room.”
