When Christo finally parks his truck down by the docks, I’m no longer bleeding, but I’m still woozy.The world has taken on a gauzy softness, like my eyes can’t find the strength to focus properly.
I’m no doctor, but that seems like a bad sign.
“There,” Christo says, pointing to the abandoned factory one block ahead. “We own this wholequarter and that building is smack dab in the middle of the rest of the Simatou-owned buildings. It’swhere hostages go. So no one will hear them scream.”
I grit my teeth and try to settle my stampeding heart.
Christo must notice the tension radiating through me because he clears his throat. “But the fact Xenahasn’t called you is a good sign. She likes a spectacle. If she was going to torture Belle, she’d makeyou listen in. Or she’d record it
