prowling around in the middle of the night.”
She shivered, and he hugged her closer. “Or you could have heard Graden. He goes into the east wing every evening at nine to do a security check.”
She hitched a deep breath, thinking it would take her months to learn all the schedules around Allistair Manor. “I panicked, that’s all.”
“Darling, you’re shaking. Let’s get you inside.”
He kept his arm around her all the way back to the house. The rain started just as they rounded the corner into the back yard. A flash of lightning illuminated the kitchen garden.
“Stephen, I chased Graden’s mother. I’m afraid I trampled your vegetables.”
“Good grief.” He hustled her inside, chuckling. “Darling, the grocery store is filled with vegetables. I don’t think we’ll starve.” He found a towel and tenderly dried her face and hair, then poured two glasses of brandy. “I think we could both use this.”
Something inside her settled down. Stephen knew her needs without being told. He was a man who took charge, who would always take charge. Everything was going to be okay. It had to be.
She took a deep sip and let the brandy warm her.
“Better now?” She nodded. “We’ll find Cee Cee, darling.”
Lily clung to his words. She wanted desperately to believe they were true.
Chapter Seven
Was that somebody crying?
She lay on her bunk, listening, but the sound didn’t come again. She was imagining things. Grasping at every little hope that she wasn’t alone in this gray prison, chained to the bed with the evil light in her ceiling that never turned off. Never.
An eternity crawled by. And then two. Time was filled with gruesome imaginings and a horrible fate.
Wait.
Sounds again.
Footsteps. Outside her door, getting closer and closer.
She cringed against the lumpy mattress then pulled the scratchy blanket over her head and bit her lower lip to keep from screaming.
A key turned in the lock and the door creaked open, the sound of it dragging along the concrete floor like witch fingernails scratching at your bedroom window.
“Come out.” The voice was harsh but whispery. “There is nowhere to hide.”
She didn’t want the owner of that voice coming any closer. Slowly, she lowered the covers.
The apparition standing beside her bed was tall, dressed entirely in black, with a face so misshapen it belonged in a horror movie where the actors were chased by machete-wielding monsters.
She screamed, then. It seemed she might never stop.
He stood there, not moving. Or was this horrible person female? The voice made it impossible to tell, but the size indicated her captor was a man.
“Stop screaming. It won’t help you.”
Her throat was raw, and her nose was running. She stopped screaming, but her insides didn’t stop shaking.
“That’s better.”
Was the monster there to kill her? Torture her? Her leg chain said his visit was not friendly.
Keep your wits. Hysterics won’t help.
She studied his hands. He was holding something small, but it didn’t look like a knife or a gun.
The hideous creature swung his head this way and that, searching the room.
Wait. There was a bit of dark hair peeking out from the awful red mess on his head. He was wearing a rubber mask over his head, one of those expensive Halloween masks that were so realistic you didn’t know they were fake until you’d already wet your pants being terrified.
Who was behind it?
“You didn’t touch your food. You have to eat. You have to remain strong.”
“For what?” Her voice croaked. She’d had only a few sips of water from the sink in the bathroom since she woke up in her prison. She was afraid the food on the table was poisoned.
His chuckle was evil.
“You’ll know in time. Stand up.”
She swayed when she stood, shaky and weak from terror and lack of food. He made no move toward her.
“Walk to the chair and sit down.”
Her chain clanked as she shuffled across the room and sank against the cushions.
“Eat the food, all of it. Now.”
“Are you trying to poison me?”
Another chuckle. “No.”
What was he? Some kind of madman with a warped sense of humor? He didn’t say a word as she picked up the cheese. She nibbled a few bites then gobbled it down along with the bread and the fruit. The milk was warm and no longer fresh, but she gulped it down, too. She’d be foolish to refuse food and get so weak she couldn’t figure out how to escape.
“Have you read the note?”
“No.”
“Pick it up and read.”
Her hands shook as she unfolded the single page of white paper. It was