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Was Gary the kind of guy who could cold-bloodedly murder a couple of teenage girls, including one who was in love with him? (Or had been, before she’d drunk that roofie.) I suspected that once he thought through the ramifications, the answer would be yes. Which meant Al and I had to get out of there before it came to that.

There was a small dormer window in the attic. I gave the window a cursory examination, wondering if there were some way I could slip out and summon help, but even if I could, I feared that getting out would involve getting too far away from Al. And if I stuck my head out and started yelling, you could bet Gary would come back up in a heartbeat to stop me.

Afternoon had slipped into evening when I heard the sound of shouting voices from downstairs. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but one of them was definitely Gary, and the other was another guy, maybe the house-mate.

Soon, there were angry footsteps on the stairs, and I hurried to get myself back into position at the post, slipping my hands back through the zip tie and flexing my wrists to make it look like it was fastened tight. It definitely looked looser than it had when Gary had put it on me, but I hoped like hell he wouldn’t notice. If he realized I could get out of the zip tie, he’d no doubt come up with some other form of restraint I would like less.

The attic door opened and Gary strode in, his face set in a sullen scowl. He’d gotten dressed, but it looked like that was about the only productive thing he’d done since he’d stuffed Al and me in the attic. His hair was the same snarly mess it had been when he met us at the door, and his eyes were not only bloodshot, they were dilated. Maybe he’d realized what a mess he’d gotten himself into and had been self-medicating all afternoon.

The man who followed Gary into the room was an altogether different kind of creature. In some ways, he looked a lot like Gary, with his sloppy, torn clothes, his mousy hair, and his wiry build. But whereas Gary’s eyes were dulled with drink and/or drugs, this man’s were sharp with ruthless intelligence. I had at least hoped that Gary might balk at the idea of killing us, but I suspected Tom—assuming that’s who this other guy was—wouldn’t hesitate for a moment.

“You see, Tom,” Gary said, waving vaguely at Al and me. “’S all good. They’re not going anywhere.”

Tom scowled at Gary, then came over to us. I shrank away from him as he approached, hoping to look as scared and helpless as possible. I didn’t want him checking my bonds to make sure I was tied up tight, and the less of a threat he saw in me, the less likely he was to be as careful as he should be.

My fear seemed to please Tom, and a hint of a smile played over his lips as he looked me over. “Be afraid, little girl,” he said. “Be very, very afraid.”

My pulse tripped over itself, and my stomach clenched with dread. Gary was a slimy, opportunistic creep, but everything about Tom screamed that he was a predator, by far the more dangerous of the two. I held my breath as he kept looking at me. If he tried to touch me, I wouldn’t be able to stand playing the helpless victim anymore, even knowing the odds of coming out the winner if I fought back were abysmally low. But just as I thought Tom might be about to try something, Al made a little whimpering sound and stirred, drawing his attention.

I let out a slow, steadying breath as Tom turned to Al, giving her the same visual appraisal he’d given me. The look on his face said he liked what he saw. A lot. Which was hardly a surprise—as a full-blooded Fae, Al was predictably gorgeous. Tom had addressed me as “little girl,” which was a term he certainly wouldn’t apply to Al. He squatted beside her and plucked at her crinkly silk dress.

Someone in this house had bought that GHB and had probably used it before, and I got the instant impression Tom liked his girls barely conscious.

Tom was in easy kicking range, and if he tried to do anything to Al, I was going to have to try to stop him, no matter how ugly the consequences. There are some things worth fighting for even when you can’t win. To my surprise, however, it was Gary who stepped in.

“She’s my girl,” he said, taking an aggressive step forward. “You can have the other one if you want, but Althea’s mine.”

I’m sure Al would have been really touched by his show of affection if she’d been conscious. I know I was.

Tom laughed, but thankfully he left Al alone after checking her eyes and seeing them hugely dilated. “Maybe later,” he said, winking at me lewdly. “Once we have the money.”

He stomped around the attic for a moment until he found a roll of duct tape. Then he tore off a strip and fastened it over Al’s mouth.

“Wouldn’t want you waking up and saying any magic spells,” he murmured, letting his finger skate down the column of her throat while his body blocked Gary’s view. I wondered if Gary was going to have to step in again—and if I was going to have to call his attention to what Tom was doing—but Tom was apparently content with that one small caress. At least for now. He tossed the duct tape aside and rose to his feet.

“Have a lovely evening, ladies,” he said. “Be good girls, and you’ll be back home before you know it.”

I didn’t believe him for a moment. Tom and Gary filed out of the attic, and once more I listened carefully to their footsteps on the stairs, waiting until I was sure they weren’t going to pop back in. Then I slid my hands out of the zip tie again.

Chapter Five

I hurried over to Al’s side and shook her shoulders, not really hopeful of getting any response. We’d been in this attic about four hours, which seemed like the better part of eternity, but I didn’t think it was long enough for the roofie to have worn off yet. Clearly our captors didn’t think it was, or they’d have tried to dose Al again. And Tom had seemed satisfied with how her eyes looked when he opened them.

I almost fell over in surprise when Al cracked her eyes open and blinked. The light in the attic was fading as the sun went down, but I could still tell that her pupils were huge and dark. She groaned softly, and her eyes slid closed. She might have woken up, but she was definitely still heavily under the influence.

“Stay awake, Al,” I hissed urgently, patting her cheek.

She mumbled something from behind her duct tape gag, but of course I couldn’t understand her. I was a little reluctant to take the tape off, afraid Tom would come back up to check on us. If he had any idea I could get free, our situation was going to get even worse than it was now.

Al’s eyes opened wider, and the mumble was louder. A shock of static electricity sparked on the back of my hand. No, not static electricity: magic. It was gone before my brain had a chance to process what I’d felt, but hope surged through me. I picked at the corner of the tape, then stuck my face in hers so she was forced to look into my eyes.

“Don’t yell, okay?” I said in an urgent whisper.

Al blinked blearily, but nodded. I wasn’t entirely sure I trusted her, but I didn’t have much of a choice. If Al could use her magic, I was confident we could get out of here pretty easily and this whole rotten adventure would be over.

Holding my breath, I yanked off the tape. Al made a high-pitched squeal, but she kept her mouth closed, trapping the sound inside. My pulse did a little salsa dance anyway, but I didn’t hear any footsteps on the stairs.

With hands that shook just a little, I undid the zip tie holding Al’s hands together. I had to help her sit up—not a good sign—and she kind of sagged against my shoulder.

“Come on, Al,” I urged. “Stay with me.”

“Trying,” she murmured sleepily.

I needed her more conscious than this if I was going to engineer an escape, but I didn’t know what to do to help her. Another static shock pinged against my skin, as ephemeral as the last. Al groaned.