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Irose to awareness like a drowning woman reaching from under the surface of an icy lake. For what seemed like ages, awakeness seemed removed from me by a thin sheet of ice. I fought against it, kicking and screaming for life. Finally I broke through.

My eyes opened. I inhaled sharply, drawing sharp, frigid air into my lungs, and sat up. My head spun. I reached down to steady myself, finding a cold, smooth surface.

Where was I?

My mind scrambled to piece together the last few minutes of consciousness. I had been in a cab before the doors had been locked. I had been knocked out by some kind of gas. I had been taken. By whom?

I squinted through the dim, trying to figure out where I was. It was a room perhaps the size of a small bedroom, empty shelves about the place. A single fluorescent light bulb flickered over me, the only one working, casting a greenish sickly spotlight over me. There was a distinct smell of something rotting. The air felt wet. I frowned. The walls and floor were white and shiny, like marker board. So was the ceiling. High along one wall there were three air conditioning units on shelves. There were no windows that I could see. A large door like a barn door took up part of one wall, sheets of plastic draped before it.

I knew what this was. I was in an old cold storage room.

“I did warn you to be careful, didn’t I, Detective Capulet?”

My blood froze.

Protruding from the shadows on one side stood a man whose features looked so similar to those that I treasured.

Roman’s father.

He stepped forward so I could see him properly. With a wide frame dressed in a midnight-black suit, leather shoes so polished they shined, Giovanni Tyrell was just as intimidating and imposing as I remembered him to be. His dark hair was slicked back off his stern features, and his sharp dark eyes studied me from under thick brows. It unnerved me that I could see fragments of Roman’s face in his.

Several rifles cocked, their barrels pointing out of the shadows, letting me know that he and I were not alone. I slid back, keeping my distance, keeping my features schooled, even though inside I was lashing out like an animal cornered. It would do me no good. I had to bide my time. Gather as much information as I could, then figure how to get the hell out of here.

When I spoke, my voice came out steadier than I felt, thank God. “What do you want with me?”

“Don’t take it so personally,” he said, his voice rough like the rumble of an engine.

“It’s a little difficult not to take it personally when I’m the one being held here against my will.”

“You’re just a means to an end, my dear. With you I get to kill two birds with one stone, excuse the pun.” He grinned, a horrible smile of teeth and stretched lips.

I tensed. “I don’t understand. I’m just a lowly detective.”

He let out a curt laugh. “Don’t play coy with me, girl.”

“I’m not.”

He pursed his mouth. “You know, you remind me of Maria, my deceased wife, God rest her soul. You both have spunk. A spark. That certain bewitching quality.” His features hardened. “And that annoying habit of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

The hair on my arms stood on end. Look where Maria Tyrell ended up.

“No matter,” Giovanni continued. “In the end, I can turn anything to my advantage.”

“What does that mean?” I demanded. “What plans do you have for me?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” He turned and exited my cell. I could do nothing but stand there as the nameless guards retreated after him, their guns trained on me until the door was slammed shut and locked.

I had no idea what Giovanni meant. I only knew that his plans could not be good. I had to warn Roman but I had no idea where I was or how the hell I was going to get out.