Page 130 of Guarded Knight

He grinds his teeth, containing some sort of rage that the mental image conjures up.

I’d better not mention Gabriel again.

My throat tightens. “I don’t need all that. If you know me, you know I only need Artelin.”

“That’s poison.” He says it like it’s obvious. “We can start you on a new regimen. No more of those expensive compounds. I’ve been making my own blends. Natural solutions.”

“I won’t take anything you give me.”

“You will,” he says softly, almost lovingly. “You’re going to need your strength. We have to get back to our home.”

I can’t let him take me from here. My throat fills with dread.

“You’ll see…” He spreads his arms like a preacher. “Finally, we can be alone. I have plans for us, Angel. And our family.”

My gasp is silent but sharp, and the air scrapes through me painfully. My heart pounds with equal parts fear and heartbreak. I was so close to the happiness I always wanted.

“You can’t keep me here.” For the first time, my voice cracks and my strength wavers.

All I can think of is Gabriel.

“You’re already here, Lara. And this time, no one’s coming to ruin it.”

He opens the cabinet, and terror explodes up my spine when he picks up a syringe and fills it with a solution, then heads back to me. He looks every bit of a deranged, psychotic doctor as he holds an ominous needle toward the sky. “This is my special formula. Don’t worry if it stings. That’s a sign that it’s working.”

I shimmy myself backward as he approaches but I’m met only with the cold, hard, concrete wall. He sits on the edge of the bed. I twist, squirm, writhe away from his touch in every direction, but I’m no match for him. He easily overpowers me with his size and shoves up my dress, exposing my thighs and panties.

He stares at me between my legs.

“This will be fun later. When you’re calm… I don’t want it to hurt…”

I let out a powerful, blood-curdling scream—raw, ripping, desperate.

Please. I hope there’s someone near…

When the needle plunges into my thigh, I’m silenced by the stinging pain, and it sharpens my thoughts. I need him out of this room if I’m ever to escape.

No matter what’s in this syringe, I’ll play possum. Go limp. Whatever he’s injected, potent or not, I’ll make it work for me. If I can’t fight him now, I’ll fake the fall and bide my time.

The liquid he’s injected does nothing, not immediately anyway, but I close my eyes and fall onto the mattress like a ragdoll, praying he leaves me here alone.

34

I’m pacingin a tight circle around the hotel manager’s office, hands fisted, pulse refusing to settle. Anton’s here, calm only on the outside. Inside, I know he’s one wrong look away from throwing someone through a wall, just like me.

My heart’s a block of lead, every beat grinding through rusted gears.

We had it wrong. I was wrong about Freya. Wrong about Cameron. We were wrong about Kevin. Who the hell took my girl?

She trusted me. And I let her vanish.

The clicking of the keyboard and the manager’s voice pull me from my spiral. SEALs don’t spiral.

They deliver.

Thankfully, the manager is not only dutiful but focused as well. He doesn’t want this shit going down on his soil. Bad press.

“I’m pulling up the camera feed from the service tunnels now,” the manager says, fingers pulling at the mouse as he hovers over the timeline. “You said the janitor’s closet, ladies’ room, that leads out into a corridor. Twenty minutes ago…” He squints. “Oh… dear God…”