oddest miracle," she whispered to him, looking at the picture.
"What?" he said into her throat.
"Nothing." She kissed the top of his blond head and went back to staring at the Madonna.
Chapter Forty-six
Bella took a deep breath and smelled dirt. God, her head hurt. And her knees were killing her. They were jammed against something hard. And cold.
Her eyes flew open. Darkness. Blackness. Blindness.
She tried to lift a hand, but her elbow ran into a bumpy wall. There was another wall at her back and in front of her and to the sides. She banged around in the small space, panicking. Opening her mouth until it gaped, she found she couldn't breathe. There was no air, only the smell of damp earth, clogging... nose... she -
Screamed.
And something above her moved. Light blinded her as she looked up.
"Ready to come out?" a man's voice said softly.
It all came back: the race for her house across the meadow, the fight with the lesser, the blacking out.
With a quick jerk she was lifted by a chest harness from what she realized was a pipe in the ground. As she looked around in terror, she had no idea where she was. The room was not large and the walls were unfinished. There were no windows, just two skylights in the low ceiling, which were both covered with black cloth. Three bald lightbulbs hung from wires. The place smelled sweet, a combination of fresh pine boards and the lesser's baby-powder scent.
When she saw a stainless-steel table and dozens of knives and hammers, she trembled so badly she started to cough.
"Don't worry about all that," the lesser said. "That's not for you as long as you behave."
His hands burrowed into her hair and fanned it out over her shoulders. "You're going to take a shower now, and you're going to wash this. You're going to wash this for me."
He reached over and picked up a bundle of clothes. As he pressed them into her arms, she realized they were her own.
"If you're good, you get to put these on. But not until we get you clean." He pushed her toward an open door, just as a cell phone started to ring. "Into the shower. Now."
Too disoriented and petrified to argue, she stumbled into an unfinished bathroom that had no toilet. Like a drone, she shut herself in and turned the water on with hands that shook. When she pivoted around, she saw the lesser had opened the door and was watching her.
He put his hand over the bottom of the cell phone. "Take off the clothes. Now."
She glanced over at the knives. Bile rose in her throat as she stripped. When she was finished, she covered herself with her hands and shivered.
The lesser hung up and put the phone down. "You do not hide from me. Drop your arms."
She backed up, shaking her head numbly.
"Drop them."
"Please, don't - "
He took two steps forward and slapped her across the face, sending her into the wall. Then he grabbed her.
"Look at me. Look at me." His eyes glittered with excitement as she met his stare. "God, it is so good to have you back."
He put his arms around her, holding her close. The sweet smell of him overwhelmed her.
Butch was one hell of an escort, Mary thought as they departed the Saint Francis oncology suite. Wearing a black wool coat, a 1940s-style hat, and a terrific pair of aviator sunglasses, he looked like a very chic hit man.
Which was not deceiving. She knew he was armed to the teeth, because Rhage had inspected the man's weapons before he'd let the two of them out of the house.
"You need anything before we go back?" Butch asked when they were outside.
"No, thanks. Let's head home."
The afternoon had been grueling and inconclusive. Dr. Delia Croce was still conferring with her partners and had ordered Mary to have an MRI as well as another physical. More blood had been drawn also because the team wanted to recheck a couple of liver functions.
God, she hated that she was going to have to come back tomorrow and had yet another night of not knowing to go through. As she and Butch went over to the open lot and got into the Mercedes, she was that horrible combination of wired and tired. What she really needed to do was go to bed, but she was so anxious, sleep was not in her future.
"Actually, Butch, will you take me by my house on the way home? I