Bay of Sighs
Page 72
“I’m definitely up. Thanks, Anni, this is great.”
“I didn’t set the table.”
“Next time. Here’s my POV. When I went back in the water, they had her in a goddamn net. She was out, unconscious. Between us and the sharks, their numbers were down, but not enough. They hit me with something, some sort of tranq, I’d say. Same thing they used on Annika most likely. And the next thing I know, I’m hanging by my arms in that cave. Lots of equipment—thugs with guns, and this tank. They had Annika in a tank of water.
“Sit down, Sash. Really, I’m good.”
“You had some torn muscles in your shoulders, in addition to where you were shot. And burns on your chest.” But Sasha sat.
“Feels okay now. Then he walks in. Mr. Torture.”
“Yadin,” Riley said.
“Introduced himself, real polite. Then he got started.”
He skimmed over the worst of it—what was the point?—but gave them the overview.
“Yadin had it rigged so he could send electrical current into the water. The son of a bitch kept zapping her.”
“And you,” Annika said.
“Depending on your scale, you could say he kept it light, until Malmon got there,” Sawyer continued. “Something off about him, Malmon. I want to say he walked different—like his shoes were too tight. And he wore shades inside the cave, and a long-sleeved shirt. And, I know it sounds weird, but his fingers were too long.”
“His fingers,” Riley repeated.
“Yeah, I know, weird, and I was feeling a little rough by the time he came to join the party.”
“Sawyer is right. He wasn’t like the other men. I felt he was not . . .” Annika struggled for the words. “Complete? Not one thing, not the other.”
“Seventh daughter of a seventh daughter’s instincts,” Riley pointed out, “which march right alongside our resident seer’s. We saw him sign a contract with Nerezza, in blood. I restate my vote for demon.”
“He seemed human enough,” Sawyer continued. “But edgy, jittery somehow. You know that’s not his style, Riley.”
“Nope, cool, calm superiority. The kind that slits your throat—or more likely pays to have it slit—without the slightest rise in blood pressure.”
“He’s pissed, too, because he can’t get the compass to work.”
“He struck Sawyer very hard, and the bindings you took off, Bran, cut into him. The other man talked to him, so he stopped.”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess I blanked there a minute. Malmon lost it. Yadin talked him down.”
“He had the man put the knife in Sawyer, but he told the man to hurt me more.”
“Increase the voltage. He said he’d fry her, and he meant it. He was past thinking of the profit he’d get from her.”
“That’s not like him either. Probably bluffing.”
“I don’t think so,” Sawyer told Riley. “I could see Yadin hesitate. He didn’t want the game over so fast, but he’d have done it. I gave him coordinates, since he was focused on getting the Fire Star.”
“What coordinates?” Doyle demanded.
“To this uninhabited island—South Pacific.”
“How did you happen to have those on you?” Riley wondered.
“It’s where my grandfather took me when he was teaching me. It’s where his dad took him. We camped there for a few nights. I dreamed about it,” he remembered. “When I was out. Anyway, I told them Bran had hidden it there.”
“You kept your wits about you,” Bran commented.
“Wits were about all I had. So I told them part of the truth. How it wouldn’t work until I passed it on, but I embellished that. How I had to take him on the first shift. It couldn’t pass to him without that sort of ritual. I figured my only chance was to get him out of there, get him to travel with me so I could deal with him, get back for Annika. But he wanted a test run, so he picked a Red Shirt.”
“The man with the gun didn’t have a red shirt. It was brown.”
Now Sawyer smiled. “Star Trek. We have to catch you up.”
“It means expendable,” Riley explained. “The crewman in the red shirt going on the mission isn’t going to make it back.”
“Why doesn’t he change his shirt?”
Now Sawyer laughed until the pain bloomed in his side, bringing on a hiss.
“You have pain.”
“It only hurts when I laugh.”
“Don’t laugh.”
He reached for Annika’s hand, squeezed. “Felt good anyway. So he has Yadin unhook the chain I’m hanging by, and has Red Shirt put the gun in my ear, get me in a headlock. He gives me ninety seconds—I said I needed two minutes. I didn’t, but I figured he’d cut that back. If I’m not back in ninety, he takes Anni out—hits her with enough voltage to give her brain damage. He has Yadin give her a couple good jolts, just to prove his point. Then he gave me the compass, and I fed in coordinates.”
“Is Red Shirt wondering what the hell he’s doing on some island in the South Pacific?” Riley wondered.
Sawyer shook his head, picked up the measly half glass of wine. Drank it down in one gulp. “No. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t have taken him out on a one-to-one, and the time . . . So I let him go.”
“Let him go?” Doyle repeated.
“I didn’t set the table.”
“Next time. Here’s my POV. When I went back in the water, they had her in a goddamn net. She was out, unconscious. Between us and the sharks, their numbers were down, but not enough. They hit me with something, some sort of tranq, I’d say. Same thing they used on Annika most likely. And the next thing I know, I’m hanging by my arms in that cave. Lots of equipment—thugs with guns, and this tank. They had Annika in a tank of water.
“Sit down, Sash. Really, I’m good.”
“You had some torn muscles in your shoulders, in addition to where you were shot. And burns on your chest.” But Sasha sat.
“Feels okay now. Then he walks in. Mr. Torture.”
“Yadin,” Riley said.
“Introduced himself, real polite. Then he got started.”
He skimmed over the worst of it—what was the point?—but gave them the overview.
“Yadin had it rigged so he could send electrical current into the water. The son of a bitch kept zapping her.”
“And you,” Annika said.
“Depending on your scale, you could say he kept it light, until Malmon got there,” Sawyer continued. “Something off about him, Malmon. I want to say he walked different—like his shoes were too tight. And he wore shades inside the cave, and a long-sleeved shirt. And, I know it sounds weird, but his fingers were too long.”
“His fingers,” Riley repeated.
“Yeah, I know, weird, and I was feeling a little rough by the time he came to join the party.”
“Sawyer is right. He wasn’t like the other men. I felt he was not . . .” Annika struggled for the words. “Complete? Not one thing, not the other.”
“Seventh daughter of a seventh daughter’s instincts,” Riley pointed out, “which march right alongside our resident seer’s. We saw him sign a contract with Nerezza, in blood. I restate my vote for demon.”
“He seemed human enough,” Sawyer continued. “But edgy, jittery somehow. You know that’s not his style, Riley.”
“Nope, cool, calm superiority. The kind that slits your throat—or more likely pays to have it slit—without the slightest rise in blood pressure.”
“He’s pissed, too, because he can’t get the compass to work.”
“He struck Sawyer very hard, and the bindings you took off, Bran, cut into him. The other man talked to him, so he stopped.”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess I blanked there a minute. Malmon lost it. Yadin talked him down.”
“He had the man put the knife in Sawyer, but he told the man to hurt me more.”
“Increase the voltage. He said he’d fry her, and he meant it. He was past thinking of the profit he’d get from her.”
“That’s not like him either. Probably bluffing.”
“I don’t think so,” Sawyer told Riley. “I could see Yadin hesitate. He didn’t want the game over so fast, but he’d have done it. I gave him coordinates, since he was focused on getting the Fire Star.”
“What coordinates?” Doyle demanded.
“To this uninhabited island—South Pacific.”
“How did you happen to have those on you?” Riley wondered.
“It’s where my grandfather took me when he was teaching me. It’s where his dad took him. We camped there for a few nights. I dreamed about it,” he remembered. “When I was out. Anyway, I told them Bran had hidden it there.”
“You kept your wits about you,” Bran commented.
“Wits were about all I had. So I told them part of the truth. How it wouldn’t work until I passed it on, but I embellished that. How I had to take him on the first shift. It couldn’t pass to him without that sort of ritual. I figured my only chance was to get him out of there, get him to travel with me so I could deal with him, get back for Annika. But he wanted a test run, so he picked a Red Shirt.”
“The man with the gun didn’t have a red shirt. It was brown.”
Now Sawyer smiled. “Star Trek. We have to catch you up.”
“It means expendable,” Riley explained. “The crewman in the red shirt going on the mission isn’t going to make it back.”
“Why doesn’t he change his shirt?”
Now Sawyer laughed until the pain bloomed in his side, bringing on a hiss.
“You have pain.”
“It only hurts when I laugh.”
“Don’t laugh.”
He reached for Annika’s hand, squeezed. “Felt good anyway. So he has Yadin unhook the chain I’m hanging by, and has Red Shirt put the gun in my ear, get me in a headlock. He gives me ninety seconds—I said I needed two minutes. I didn’t, but I figured he’d cut that back. If I’m not back in ninety, he takes Anni out—hits her with enough voltage to give her brain damage. He has Yadin give her a couple good jolts, just to prove his point. Then he gave me the compass, and I fed in coordinates.”
“Is Red Shirt wondering what the hell he’s doing on some island in the South Pacific?” Riley wondered.
Sawyer shook his head, picked up the measly half glass of wine. Drank it down in one gulp. “No. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t have taken him out on a one-to-one, and the time . . . So I let him go.”
“Let him go?” Doyle repeated.
