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Holy Mother, that was how he controlled them, and what it felt like when he did. I had to unplug.

I knelt on the bed and put my palms on the wall. I let out one more trembling breath then slammed my forehead into the stone facade. Pain exploded through my face. I fell back and let the throbbing give way to unconsciousness.

When I came to, my senses were my own. Quiet held outside the door. Thank you, skull-crushing wall. I groaned and opened my eyes.

The sun hovered. So did a man-shaped thing called the Drone. His glossy curls curtained my face. He leaned lower and cupped my jaw, his gentle touch at odds with the sinister vibe dripping from him. “My dear Eveline. It is time.”

I couldn’t hide the strain in my face as I recoiled beneath my skin and scanned the room. Where was Dr. Nealy?

The mattress sprang up. He strode to the chamber door. “Wear the chador. Come.”

We were leaving the chamber? My heart leapt as I grabbed the robe and slipped it over my chemise. My longing to get down those stairs outweighed my need to empty my bladder and scrub the grit from my teeth. Still, I questioned the wisdom in going anywhere with him. “Where are we going?”

His head dipped, lower, closer, bringing cold lips to my cheekbone, to the corner of my mouth.

My jaw tightened until I thought my teeth would break. Would he violate me while yanking my mind through our connection and stealing my will? If I fought him hand-to-hand, could I neutralize him?

Whiskers pricked my chin. His lips hovered, separated. Where the fuck was the doctor?

The Drone’s right hook cracked my head to the side. I staggered back, bent over and clutched my knees. Big breath. Another. What was that for? I jiggled my jaw and looked up.

His bent position mirrored mine, face constricted and one hand cupping his side. The other popped the lid of a small plastic bottle. White pills tumbled to his tongue and he returned the bottle to a pocket in his cloak.

I punched out my fist. He deflected it with a blur of his own and swept my feet from under me. The crunch with the floor shot pain up my spine.

The kinks gone from his face, he crouched beside me. “Audacity is a plague, Eveline, and your gender is especially susceptible. Your fearlessness in my presence, your attempt to usurp my guards…” A wave of vibration bounced between us. “It demonstrates your total disregard for Allah’s punishment. It is time you learn humility. Eyes down.”

I rose and slid one foot out, centering my stance. I wanted to bend back his dick and drive it up his ass. Would the consequences be worth the reward? I lowered my head.

He bound my wrists behind my back. Then, as if he hadn’t just plowed his fist into my face, his arm coiled around mine. “Walk with me.”

Said the madman to the fly. I clenched my muscles to suppress my trembling.

He guided us to the stairs. Splinters of wood scattered the floor, gnawed from the chamber door’s exterior.

Elbow to elbow, we squeezed into the narrow stairway. Two guards trailed our winding descent. My stomach flopped between their thirst leaking at my back and the anticipation of nearing Roark’s cell.

On the final bend, I censored my movements. Loose limbs, steady breathing, and eyes down. Pretend Roark was dead. Pretend to be broken. I forced a pitch of uncertainty in my voice. “Permission to speak?” There, that sounded scared. Maybe I was.

His boots squeaked to a stop, pivoted toward me. His rib cage contracted. Even breaths whispered over my head.

Eyes down, eyes down. Oh, why did I open my mouth?

“Speak.”

Shit. I’d lost my train of thought. When he released me to clutch his side, I went with it. “What are the pills for?”

The atmosphere surged with the animosity radiating off him. His hand curled on his abdomen then slid into his pocket, no doubt caressing the pill bottle. “Kidney.”

Kidney?

Then we were moving again, double speed. The stairs emptied into a small atrium with two doorways. One opened to a corridor. The other had to be Roark’s cell.

He stalled at Roark’s door, fingers playing over my arm. My throat closed, but I didn’t dare look at the barrier separating me from Roark.

When he tugged me toward the corridor, relief warred with the lump in my throat. Swallowing hard, I forced my feet to keep up.

We passed the hall’s double doors. The tower’s anteroom. The quadrangle. More doors. Then another stairwell, which took us below ground.

Mold tinged the damp air. A mist chilled the stairs and bit my bare feet. Kerosene fumed from torches marking each curve.

The last step butted a mahogany door. A flutter invaded my stomach, the Drone’s cue to his guards. Their feet shuffled behind me as they retreated up the stairs.