Livia Lone (Livia Lone #1)(95)

Scared. You are scared.

He twisted her head back. She didn’t fight him. He said something in Thai.

“Where’s my sister?” she said, grimacing.

He looked at her. “What?” he said in English. “You forget your Thai?”

“What did you do with her?”

He smiled and pulled her closer. That curry smell . . . it was exactly the same. It made her feel she was back in the box again. On the boat. On her knees. A nightmare from her childhood bursting into the present.

“Everything,” he whispered.

And suddenly the dragon was gone. She was just Labee, in the clutches of the man who had hurt her. Who had hurt Nason. It had never stopped. It was never going to stop.

Skull Face pulled her by the hair across the room, Redcroft behind them, his gun still out. She caught a glimpse of a couch and chairs, an enormous flat-panel monitor, a dining room set. Then they were at an interior door, presumably to the suite’s bedroom. Skull Face rapped sharply on the door.

A voice came from the other side. “What on earth is it?”

Senator Lone. Even if she hadn’t already known it was him, even after so many years, even muffled by the door . . . she would have recognized that voice. So much like his brother’s.

“Come out,” Skull Face said. “You need to see this.”

A moment went by. Then the door opened. It was Lone, tying the belt of the hotel robe he was wearing. Unlike the other two, he looked older, his hair thinner, his cheeks sunken.

Livia heard quiet sobs coming from inside the room. She strained to look. And saw a naked girl, on the bed, handcuffed to the back of the latticed metal bedframe. She looked like not even a teenager.

No, she thought. No. Please. No.

Lone looked at Livia, then to Skull Face, then to Redcroft, then back to Livia. “Is this who I think it is?”

Redcroft nodded, the gun still pointed at Livia. “She wants to know where her sister is. Came all this way to ask you.”

“Just tell me,” Livia said. “Just tell me where she is.” And she meant it. If she could know that, she wouldn’t care anymore. About fighting. About anything.

Lone clapped a hand over his mouth and stared at her as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then he pointed at Skull Face. “Call your people. Have them come and take the girl. This is so much more interesting.”

Skull Face pulled a mobile phone from a jacket pocket, held it to his ear, and said a few words in Thai. Then he replaced the phone and pulled a pistol from a cross-draw nylon shoulder holster. He pointed it at Livia. The holster . . . it was the way she’d expect a cop to carry. Not a criminal. And the gun was a SIG Sauer P320. The full version. Again, not something your average bad guy would favor—the size made it too hard to conceal.

She glanced at Redcroft’s gun. A Glock, and smaller than Skull Face’s. She wondered how he’d gotten it into Thailand. The diplomatic pouch maybe. Or maybe Skull Face had supplied it.

Redcroft slipped his gun into a holster at the back of his waistband. That’s where he carried—and why she hadn’t seen any telltale bulge when he’d first stood to open his room door. He went into the bedroom and unlocked the handcuffs, then pulled the sobbing girl off the bed. She looked maybe eleven.

Nason’s age. When they’d taken her.

The girl was bleeding from between her legs. It was too much. It brought Nason too close. Livia clenched her jaw and tried to stop herself. But she couldn’t. She began to cry.

Redcroft tossed the handcuffs on the bed and helped the girl into her clothes. The girl was shaking all over. It looked like it was all she could do just to stay on her feet.

Redcroft led the girl out of the bedroom. She looked at Livia as they passed as though beseeching her to do something. And all Livia could do was cry harder. She shook her head and whispered, I’m sorry, over and over again. She watched Redcroft lead the trembling girl through the living room and into Redcroft’s room. A moment later, there was a knock on Redcroft’s door. When he came back, the girl was gone.

Livia was still crying. But deep down, under all the pain, and grief, and horror . . . something stirred. Only a little. Just a tiny movement, something no one else would notice. As though the dragon was letting her know it understood now, it had to be quiet. It had to wait. But that it was still there. That it was ready to do what it had always done. So ready.

All she had to do was let it.





63—NOW

Redcroft said, “All right, she’s gone. I should go back out and keep watch.”

Lone smiled. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Nobody’s coming. Well, somebody already did, but she’s here now. I think you can stay.”

Redcroft looked at Livia. “You see? This is part of why I like working for the senator. He knows how to treat his employees.”

Lone gestured to the living room. “Why don’t we go in here? It’ll be more comfortable.”

Skull Face gestured with his gun. Livia moved into the living room, the men behind her.

Redcroft settled into one of the overstuffed chairs. Skull Face gestured with his gun to the couch across from the chairs. Livia sat on it. Lone took the chair next to Redcroft. Skull Face remained standing next to the couch, keeping his gun on Livia.

Livia blinked away the tears and looked at Lone. “Tell me what happened to my sister. Please, just tell me that.”