Finnegan Lane was chained up to a stone column that supported the ceiling several stories above his head. Silverstone cuffs glinted around his hands. The cuffs had been tied to a matching chain that hung on a hook above his head, keeping Finn's arms up. An uncomfortable position made worse by the obvious beating he'd already taken. Bruises blossomed like purple and blue irises on Finn's cheeks. The two giants had roughed him up a bit already, no doubt getting him ready for Elliot Slater's personal attention, but Finn didn't seem to be in too bad shape. He was still breathing, which was the most important thing.
Cold rage burned in Finn's eyes as he watched Slater start rolling up his sleeves. Every once in a while, Finn rattled his cuffs, testing them for any hint of weakness. But there was none. Still, his face was guarded and watchful. He hadn't given up hope of escaping, of getting the upper hand, even without my help. Finn would never give up any more than I would. The old man had taught him better than that. Still, Finn's fighting spirit warmed my heart.
Once I'd fixed the position of everyone and everything in the room in my mind, I slithered back down the hallway to where Roslyn slouched against the wall, waiting.
"Slater's down there with two of his men," I whispered. "He's got Finn chained up to a stone column."
Roslyn nodded. "That's where he likes to start with people. He's got another room on this floor for really difficult cases. Most people don't make it up here."
"I want you to get the hell out of here," I whispered. "Slip out the side door where the pool is, go to the garage, get one of Slater's cars, and leave. There's a gas station at the bottom of the hill. My Benz is parked down there. Get in, and use one of the cell phones in the glove box to call the Deveraux sisters. They'll come and help you. Xavier too. In case things don't go well for Finn and me up here. Can you do that for me? Can you make it to the garage?"
Roslyn nodded. "I can make it that far. What are you going to do?"
I palmed my two silverstone knives and held them up where she could see them. "Finish this-one way or another."
Roslyn disappeared down the hallway, and I eased back to where the balcony was. Slater and his men had their backs to me, and I moved to the other side of the hallway, where it was solid once more. They never even looked up. My eyes went to an iron chandelier that hung down from the ceiling. That would work just fine.
"Finnegan Lane," Elliot Slater rumbled, stepping forward so that he was directly in front of my foster brother. The giant had finished securing one shirt sleeve and had gone to work on the other one. "A strange place to meet."
"So it seems," Finn replied in a chipper voice, despite his bruised features.
"Care to tell me what the f**k you're doing up here on my land?" Slater asked.
"Technically, it's not your land, is it? It belongs to your boss, Mab Monroe. You're just the caretaker of the place, so to speak. Part of the cleanup crew. Just like you've always been."
Finn finished his insult with a toothy grin. Slater's fingers stilled on the fabric of his shirt sleeve, as though he was thinking about lunging forward and punching Finn, but the giant wasn't that easily baited.
"I'll ask you again," Slater said. "What are you doing here?"
"I was looking for a friend of mine," Finn said. "Roslyn Phillips. I think you know her. Care to tell me where she is?"
This time, it was the giant's turn to smile. "Oh, Roslyn's a bit tied up at the moment, just like she's been for the past few hours. Just like she's going to be for some time to come. Until I get tired of the bitch and break her neck with my bare hands."
Finn couldn't help himself-he spat at the giant and his vile words. Slater calmly wiped the spittle off his face, then backhanded Finn. The sound of the giant's palm striking Finn's skin was as loud as a gunshot in the quiet house. Finn grunted with pain, and Slater closed his hand into a fist and punched him. A cut opened up above Finn's left eye, and blood covered that side of his face.
My hands tightened on my knives, but I didn't make a sound. I wanted to give Roslyn as much of a head start as possible, in case Slater and his men killed Finn and me and realized that the vamp was missing. Which meant that Finn was going to have to get slapped around some more. My stomach twisted at the thought, but it was something that we both were just going to have to endure. Wouldn't be the first time.
"You know, I thought I was just going to have some fun tonight with Roslyn," Elliot said. "But imagine my surprise and delight when you show up on my doorstep to add to the festivities."
"I know," Finn replied. "I decided to come to you. Save you some trouble. Since you turned tail and ran the last time we met."
Slater froze for a second. The giant finished rolling up his remaining shirtsleeve before he looked at Finn again. "And when was that?"
Finn stared at the giant. "Why, the night you went to kill Detective Bria Coolidge," he drawled. "That didn't end so well for you, if I remember. How many men did you lose that night? Three? Four? It was hard to keep track with all the blood and bodies everywhere."
This time, Slater's hazel eyes were the ones that narrowed with rage. "That was you?"
Another smile spread across Finn's battered face. "Oh yes. Most fun I've had all week."
Slater studied Finn for several seconds. "You were the one with the gun. The one who shot Jim in the face."
Finn tipped his head in acknowledgment.
"I see."
Slater stepped forward and drove his fist into Finn's stomach. It happened so fast, with such speed, I thought for a moment that I'd imagined it. Until Finn spit up a mouthful of his own blood. Elliot Slater had some of the quickest hands that I'd ever seen.
But Slater didn't stop with one blow. Instead, the giant slammed one fist into Finn's face. I heard the crack as his nose broke all the way up here on the balcony. Slater's other fist plowed into Finn's stomach again. Finn moaned, and more blood spewed out of his lips. That cold ball of rage began to burn in the pit of my stomach once more.
"I can keep this up for hours, Lane. Hours," Slater rumbled. "Until you are begging me to stop the pain, to just end you. Now, you're going to tell me exactly why you were at Coolidge's house that night, and why you're so f**king interested in my business."
The giant didn't have to add an or else to his threat. He and Finn already knew how to play the game-and they both realized that Elliot Slater currently held all the cards. Except for one. Me. The queen of spades.