I had watched cats play with their prey before, and the languid, deceptive grace with which he turned my own strength against me reminded me of nothing so much as a cat getting ready to take its time. I tried to move again and he chuckled quietly, so close it was almost more felt than heard.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something lying next to us and recognized with a start that it was a small pile of weapons—my weapons, in fact—taken from various concealed places on my body. Some of them I had thought well-hidden but apparently he had found them, even removed them, without my being aware of it.

“What the hell...?” I panted, outraged in spite of my predicament.

His eyes were on mine now, glittering faintly, his tones measured, honeyed steel that conveyed a pleasant yet tactical menace. He glanced briefly at the incriminating pile.

“Anything else you would like to declare before we proceed?” he asked, almost idly. “I do confess to a certain fondness for my own life. A strange affection, but there it is.”

He smiled and returned his gaze to me. I was reminded again of a mouse, pinned as I was by both his body and that devastating regard, which somehow made the physical restraint seem inconsequential. True, I had been trained in counter-interrogation techniques, but there had been nothing like those eyes in my training. With Aloysius, nothing had ever seemed to apply. Now was no exception.

“There’s a...there’s a nail-knife in my...”

Another soft chuckle, a slight, almost sympathetic shake of the head. “If you’re trying to kill me, I could suggest a far more... interesting means of doing so; that was one of the very first items I extracted. Amazing, my dear, what a preliminary search of you turned out.” He paused. “I am most anxious to see what the secondary search reveals. Don’t get too comfortable, now.”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” I reminded him, wetting my dry lips and fighting a surge of—what was it? Alarm? No, I had mastered fear long ago. This was different.

The pale eyebrow arched again over an eye whose glint was now distinctly amused. He leaned closer, and I found myself holding my breath. “Ah—correction. I promised you would not come to harm.” As my brain tried to reconcile that distinction I felt his voice, smooth and inviting as bourbon, brush against my lips. “There is a difference.”

And as I’m certain he intended, I suddenly realized how very much I needed a drink.

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