front of her, so his eyes were level with hers. “Look, animal girl, we’re being polite about this right now, but we don’t have to be.”
Her feet remained free. She considered kicking him in the face, but resisted the temptation. Unless she could free her hands, she was helpless. “He saw me dancing,” she said. “In the square where you grabbed me. I was there every day.”
“We don’t go uptown much,” the second one said in a dry tone.
“He asked me to come to the Blue Orchid after dinner. I did. He didn’t tell me his name, he just wanted to pay money to have me dance for him.”
“What kind of dance?” the second one said, gaze narrowing.
“What kind do you think?” Roulette said steadily, looking directly into his eyes.
The first man backhanded her hard enough to knock her out of the chair. She couldn’t do anything other than steel herself for the impact with the floor.
“You watch your mouth around us,” he growled.
She rocked herself upright into a sitting position, remaining silent. She’d accepted that she was going to die here.
“Now try answering the question again, and tell the truth.”
“Do you want the truth, or do you want me to tell you what I think will keep you from hitting me?”
He clenched his hands into fists.
“The truth is your friend invited me to his room. And that had a bunch of perfume bottles already with him, all filled with herani.”
The two men exchanged glances. “How’d you know he had that?” the second asked.
“I didn’t. I didn’t even know what herani was then.” She smiled bitterly. “I thought it was perfume. I thought I was spraying perfume in his eyes.”
“Why?” the first said, voice low and dangerous.
“To try to keep him from raping me.”
She expected the kick when it came, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. She wheezed, clenching her eyes shut.
“We know who you’re working with,” he spat. “Killing him wasn’t enough, you terrorists have to ruin his reputation, too?”
“Terrorist.” She rolled back into a sitting position a second time, still breathing hard, trembling with rage as much as fear. “You tell me why he had those bottles if I’m the terrorist.”
“Don’t you—”
“And if I’m lying, you tell me how they found his body.”
They exchanged glances again.
“Or do you two really think I broke into his room, killed him with his own acid, then pulled his pants down?”
“Damn you!” The first one didn’t kick her again, but instead grabbed her by the shoulder and hauled her to her feet. “What did he tell you about the herani?”
“Nothing.”
“ What did he tell you?” he screamed in her face.
“Nothing!” she screamed back.
He spun her around and grabbed the end of the rope tied around her wrists, then dragged her backward, flinging her through an open doorway. She skidded along the floor a yard, hearing the door slam behind her. By the time she pushed herself upright she’d heard what sounded like a padlock clapping shut.
The room he’d tossed her into looked like a now-unused office, barely six feet across on each side. It was dark, but light came in from a small window about six feet up, as well as seeping in from under the door—well over an inch of space there. The door had a lock on this side, as would be expected for an office. She wondered if they’d put the padlock on because they expected to use it as a cell, or just so it could double as storage.
“—kill her now and be done with it,” the second man’s voice came. He was speaking low enough that she suspected he didn’t think she could hear.
“Not without his say-so,” the first said. “We’re supposed to get her to talk.”
“So go in and get her to talk.”
“I have to want to not kill her first.”
She tugged on the rope. It was a little loose, but not enough to pull free. She couldn’t even slide her wrists around. Much. She could almost curl her fingers enough to pull at the rope.
Her feet remained free. She considered kicking him in the face, but resisted the temptation. Unless she could free her hands, she was helpless. “He saw me dancing,” she said. “In the square where you grabbed me. I was there every day.”
“We don’t go uptown much,” the second one said in a dry tone.
“He asked me to come to the Blue Orchid after dinner. I did. He didn’t tell me his name, he just wanted to pay money to have me dance for him.”
“What kind of dance?” the second one said, gaze narrowing.
“What kind do you think?” Roulette said steadily, looking directly into his eyes.
The first man backhanded her hard enough to knock her out of the chair. She couldn’t do anything other than steel herself for the impact with the floor.
“You watch your mouth around us,” he growled.
She rocked herself upright into a sitting position, remaining silent. She’d accepted that she was going to die here.
“Now try answering the question again, and tell the truth.”
“Do you want the truth, or do you want me to tell you what I think will keep you from hitting me?”
He clenched his hands into fists.
“The truth is your friend invited me to his room. And that had a bunch of perfume bottles already with him, all filled with herani.”
The two men exchanged glances. “How’d you know he had that?” the second asked.
“I didn’t. I didn’t even know what herani was then.” She smiled bitterly. “I thought it was perfume. I thought I was spraying perfume in his eyes.”
“Why?” the first said, voice low and dangerous.
“To try to keep him from raping me.”
She expected the kick when it came, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. She wheezed, clenching her eyes shut.
“We know who you’re working with,” he spat. “Killing him wasn’t enough, you terrorists have to ruin his reputation, too?”
“Terrorist.” She rolled back into a sitting position a second time, still breathing hard, trembling with rage as much as fear. “You tell me why he had those bottles if I’m the terrorist.”
“Don’t you—”
“And if I’m lying, you tell me how they found his body.”
They exchanged glances again.
“Or do you two really think I broke into his room, killed him with his own acid, then pulled his pants down?”
“Damn you!” The first one didn’t kick her again, but instead grabbed her by the shoulder and hauled her to her feet. “What did he tell you about the herani?”
“Nothing.”
“ What did he tell you?” he screamed in her face.
“Nothing!” she screamed back.
He spun her around and grabbed the end of the rope tied around her wrists, then dragged her backward, flinging her through an open doorway. She skidded along the floor a yard, hearing the door slam behind her. By the time she pushed herself upright she’d heard what sounded like a padlock clapping shut.
The room he’d tossed her into looked like a now-unused office, barely six feet across on each side. It was dark, but light came in from a small window about six feet up, as well as seeping in from under the door—well over an inch of space there. The door had a lock on this side, as would be expected for an office. She wondered if they’d put the padlock on because they expected to use it as a cell, or just so it could double as storage.
“—kill her now and be done with it,” the second man’s voice came. He was speaking low enough that she suspected he didn’t think she could hear.
“Not without his say-so,” the first said. “We’re supposed to get her to talk.”
“So go in and get her to talk.”
“I have to want to not kill her first.”
She tugged on the rope. It was a little loose, but not enough to pull free. She couldn’t even slide her wrists around. Much. She could almost curl her fingers enough to pull at the rope.
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