Page 193 of Viper

“But we are set to acquire the target tomorrow,” Breaker says. “That’s the plan.”

“We aren’t changing the plan,” I say, my blood singing from just the thought of being near her. “Tomorrow is still a go.”

Viper narrows his eyes. “Then what are you suggesting?”

I shrug, a smirk curling my lip. “Suit up. I know of a sexy little Vixen and a pretty little Kitten who might want to play.”

Chapter 60

Delilah

Whentheworldcomesback around, it’s nothing but a whirling, blurry gray and splitting pain. I attempt to open my eyes, but they fall closed again, too heavy to lift. When I try to move, a hot stab, like a fire poker through my brain, shoots through my skull, and nausea ripples in my belly. More stinging fire ignites in my wrists as I shift, and everything floods back to me, hitting me like a tidal wave.

My limbs tingle, my palms sweat as I try to lift a hand to rub my eyes, but I can’t seem to signal my brain because it will not move. It feels like concrete scrapes against my eyeballs, and I try to rub them again, and the sharp sting of something grates into my wrist. I blink several more times, fighting the urge to puke as my vision centers on a solid gray wall. Beneath me, I sense a hard surface, sense I’m sitting….

Upright? In a chair?

Pain twinges in my neck as my head lolls to the side. My mouth unglues, and I smack my lips. After a few more secondsof fighting the remnants of the drug Fallon gave me, everything around me finally comes into focus.

Sluggishly, I blink, focusing on the concrete floor. Rust stains gather around a drain a few feet away. My gaze drops to my lap. My bare legs, spread open, a wooden chair visible beneath me.

My gaze drags to my arms.

Bound with rope to the arm of a chair.

Panic lands in the center of my chest like a hot coal. I jerk violently, and everything snaps into clarity. My head jerks, but I see nothing but gray walls veiled in shadows and a concrete floor. I try to shift my legs, but they don’t move, and the pain of the rope at my ankles cuts into my flesh. A dark, trembling awareness floods my limbs, like a dam breaking open. It pours over me, and a choked sob breaks through the deafening quiet.

Scanning the space, I take in each detail. I’m in a warehouse of some sort, tied to a fucking chair, wearing nothing but Striker’s shirt. I wiggle, but my legs are splayed open, leaving me even more vulnerable than I’ve ever felt before.

I swallow, nausea nearly taking my breath away, and try to breathe through the terror eating at my brain like a parasite.

He’ll test you, Delilah. Rune will want to make sure you’ve not been compromised.

“Where am I?” I whisper, trying to keep control.

Knowing my father, he’s somewhere watching me. Waiting for me to wake up. Maybe even see how I’ll react. Before I can sink into the horror of my situation, a faint buzz, like a door far away has unlocked, and then thetap tap tapof shoes echoes behind me. I sense someone behind me. A minute later, a familiar face comes into view.

“Dr. Morgan?” I ask, but my blood drains from my head, and I tilt sideways when Zane steps into my line of sight.

“When you return, your first instinct will be to shrink away in fear. Do not show fear. Rune can smell it like a rabid dog.Fallon’s words fill my head.You have not seen your father in weeks. What would Delilah do?”

Except we never planned for, never expected, Zane to be the one to greet me.

I take in his suit and tie. The sling and cast on his arm. The slick, cruel glee, darkening his eyes.

“Zane?” I whisper, slapped into a state of total fear as every moment from the last few weeks hits me from all directions. I glance around. “Where am I?”

“Here,” he says, cold eyes locked on me. They slip lower to the space between my legs.

“Why am I here?” I ask. “Why am I tied up, and where is Cor—”

Behind me, the door buzzes. The skin on the back of my neck pricks. Zane keeps his eyes on me, watching my reaction. Then I feel him. His presence fills the room, almost tangible in its darkness. Footsteps—heavy, deliberate, slow—scrape the floor behind me. Goosebumps break out on my skin. He moves in slowly behind me and stands there.

“He may try to intimidate you. Don’t show fear. Fear means guilt.”

The tips of his fingers skim along the top of my head. “You’re home.”

Tears burst free as terror floods my bloodstream. I choke on a sob.