turned down a job as a slave trader once. That was before. Do you remember before, Lily? When we
lived in Charlestown and your sister Dove was still alive. A captain from Marblehead asked if I wanted
to ship out to Guinea for some human cargo. Black gold, I think he called it. As I remember, I hit him on
the nose. And Fight-the-Good-fight-for-Faith Johnson reported me for brawling."
"Quinn, what's wrong with you?"
"Just reminiscing about the old days in the sunlight. Of course, you wouldn't know about that, would
you? You're lamia; you were born this way. Technically, I suppose, you were born dead."
"And technically, I suppose, you're going peculiar. My father always said it would happen."
"Yes, and I wonder what your father would think about all this? His daughter selling humans for
money. And to such a client, and for such a reason-"
At that moment, while Rashel was listening desperately, hanging on every word, heavy footsteps
interrupted. Ivan had returned. Quinn broke off, and he and Lily remained silent as another body
thumped on a bed.
Rashel cursed mentally. What client? What reason? She'd supposed the girls were being sold as regular
house slaves or food supplies. But clearly that wasn't the case.
And then something happened that drove thoughts of the future right out of her mind. She heard
footsteps next to her bed, and she was aware of someone leaning close. Not Quinn, the smell was
wrong.
Ivan.
A rough hand grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. Another arm slid under her waist, lifting her
up.
Panic shot through Rashel, and she tried to push it away. She forced herself to stay limp, eyes shut, arms
dangling passively.
I ought to have been prepared for this.
She'd realized from the beginning that playing her part might include allowing herself to get bitten. To feel
vampire teeth on her throat, to allow them to spill her blood.
But it bad never happened to her before, and it took every ounce of her will to keep from fighting. She
was scared. Her arched throat felt exposed and
vulnerable, and she could feel a pulse beating in it wildly.
"What are you doing?"
Quinn's voice was sharp as the crack of glacier ice. Rashel felt Ivan go still.
"I've got something to settle with this girl. She's a smartass."
"Take your hands off her. Before I knock you through the wall."
"Quinn-" Lily said.
Quinn's voice was painfully distinct. "Drop her. Now."
Ivan dropped Rashel.
"He's right," Lily said coolly. "They're not for you, Ivan, and they have to be in perfect shape."
Ivan muttered something sullen and Rashel heard footsteps moving away. She lay and listened to her
heart slowly calming.
"I'm going to get some sleep," Quinn said, sounding flat and dull.
"See you Tuesday," lily said.
Tuesday, Rashel thought. Great. It's going to be a very long two days.
They were the most boring two days of her life. She got to know every corner of the small
glass-windowed office. The windows were a problem, since she was never absolutely sure if Lily or Ivan
were outside one of them, standing in the warehouse proper and looking through. She listened carefully
for the warehouse doors, froze instantly at any suspicious sound, and trusted to luck.
Daphne woke up Monday morning. Rashel had her neck twisted sideways and was staring through the
office glass up at the one tiny window set high in the warehouse wall. Just as it turned gray with dawn,
Daphne sat up and screamed.
"Sh! It's all right! You're here in the warehouse with me."
"Rashel?"
"Yeah. We made it. And I'm glad you're awake."
"Are we alone?"
"More or less," Rashel said. "There are two other girls, but they're both hypnotized. You'll see when it
gets lighter."
Daphne let out her breath. "Wow... we did it. That's great. So how come I'm so completely and utterly
terrified?"
"Because you're a smart girl," Rashel said grimly. "Just wait until Tuesday when they take us out."
"Take us out where?"
"That's the question."
Chapter 11
The U-Haul whirred across smooth resonant pavement and Rashel tried to guess where they were. She
had been drawing a map in her mind, trying to imagine each turn they made, each change of the road
underneath them.
Ivan sat slouched, blocking the back doors of the truck. His eyes were small and mean, and they
flickered over the girls constantly. In his right hand he held a taser, a hand-held electrical stun gun, and
Rashel knew he was dying to use it.
But the cargo was being very docile. Daphne was beside Rashel, leaning against her very slightly for
comfort, her dark blue eyes fixed vacantly on the far wall. They were shackled together: although both
Lily and Ivan had been checking Daphne constantly for signs of waking up, they were dearly taking no
chances.
On the opposite side of the truck were the two other girls. One was Juanita, her wavy bronze hair
tangled from two days of lying on it, her bee-stung lips parted, her gaze empty. The second girl was a
towhead, with flyaway hair and Bambi eyes staring blankly. Ivan called her Missy.
She was about twelve.
Rashel allowed herself to daydream about things to do to Ivan.
Then she focused. The van was stopping. Ivan jumped up, and a minute later he was opening the back
doors. Then he and Lily were unshackling the girls and herding them out, telling them to hurry.
Rashel breathed deeply, grateful for the fresh open air. Salty air. Keeping her gaze aimless and glassy,
she looked around. It was twilight and they were on a Charlestown dock.
"Keep moving," Ivan said, a hand on her shoulder.
Ahead, Rashel saw a sleek thirty-foot power cruiser bobbing gently in a slip. A figure with dark hair was
on the deck, doing something with lines. Quinn.
He barely glanced up as Ivan and Lily hustled the girls onto the boat, and he didn't help steady Missy
when she almost lost her balance jumping from the dock. His mood had changed again, Rashel realized.
He seemed withdrawn, turned inward, brooding.