The grave was cold and the chairs in hell were incredibly uncomfortable. She’d been rope tied. Not the grave, but it might as well have been. For the first time in her short but storied career as a monster hunter, she’d been caught. Her catlike ferocity rose in frustration, but the hunter in her was already calculating. She was bound to the chair at the wrists, ankles, and waist. She was cold without her leather jacket, colder with her weapons gone. Nothing left but a killer body. They’d even taken her boots.
She squinted to see the room beyond the spotlight overhead. She was in an office. A small window showed the city skyline drifting past. She was on a boat. No, a cargo freighter. She blinked and made out a man in dark clothes sitting on the edge of a desk. He was rooting through her a
