He saw her face splotched with purple and black bruises. "Bugger."
She touched her face and winced. "Lovely, huh?"
"Ye're always lovely. But I feel badly that ye were fighting for yer life, and I wasna able to help you."
"I feel badly for getting us into this mess." She looked him over. "They took your sporran." She gave him a sly look. "I mean your purse."
He growled.
"Any idea where we are?"
"I'm guessing either western Russia or the Ukraine. I canna teleport or send psychic messages through the silver."
"Silver?" She glanced around, then up at the ceiling. "Good heavens, it's everywhere."
"I wish I could touch you," he whispered. "It grieves me to see ye in pain."
Her gaze lowered back to his face. With a small smile, she touched his cheek. "What happened while I was knocked out?"
"I killed Brouchard."
"Oh." Her eyes widened. "Wicked. Congratulations."
"Uri and Alek attacked. Katya missed with her blowpipe and hit Uri."
Emma grinned, then winced at the pain. "Ouch. I guess the royal bitch managed to hit you eventually."
"Aye."
Emma gave him a worried look. "I get the feeling there's something personal between you and her."
Angus closed his eyes briefly. "It was a mistake. And a long time ago."
"She hates you now."
"She hates you, too."
Emma smiled. "Well, I did kill six of her men."
"'Tis more than that. She... suspects that I care very deeply about you."
Emma's smile faded. "She could be wrong."
"Nay. She's always had good instincts."
Emma's eyes glistened with tears as she touched his face. "I'm so sorry. They would have never captured us if I'd stayed put like you asked."
"But they would have kept killing every night until we came. The showdown was inevitable."
She leaned closer. "I'll get us out of here. Somehow."
"We'll do it together."
She searched his eyes, and he thought his heart would break. Her gaze lowered to his mouth. She touched her lips against his, then sat up.
His mouth quirked. "I'm completely helpless. Are ye sure ye wouldna like to have yer way with me?"
She snorted. "You're such a he-man." She rose to her feet and moved from his view.
"Oh, gross!" Her voice came from a far corner. "Our bathroom consists of a wooden tub, a bucket of water, and a chamber pot."
"I used a chamber pot for centuries. Ye'll get used to it."
"I guess," she muttered. "I really need to go."
"Then go." He heard a series of curses and scrambling noises.
"They call this toilet paper? I could file my nails with this stuff!" Finally she announced she was done. He heard a splash of water as she rinsed her hands.
She paced around the room. "Next time we're staying at the Hilton."
Something hit the floor.
"What was that?" Angus asked.
"I turned the cot onto its side." She grabbed him under the shoulders and dragged him. He tried to move his legs to help, but they were still dead weight.
She propped him up against the cot in a sitting position. "There. Isn't that better?"
"Yes." He could see more of the room now. A screen hid the primitive bathroom in the corner. Other than the cot, the only furniture was a small round table and two chairs. High up on the eastern wall, there was a small window.
The bolt on the door scraped.
Emma grabbed a chair and plastered herself against the wall next to the door.
The door creaked open. No one came in. A woman's voice on a walkie-talkie spoke in Russian.
"Put the chair down," Alek's voice ordered. "We know what you are doing. We have cameras in the room."
Emma lowered the chair and gazed around the room.
The Russian vampire Burien stepped inside and pointed a machine gun at her. She raised her hands.
Alek marched into the room with a tray in his hands. "We saw you were awake. We thought you might be hungry." He set the tray on the table.
"Ye make a good servant," Angus muttered.
"Indeed," Emma agreed with a sweet smile. "Be a dear and empty the chamber pot for me?"
Alek glared at them both. "We are watching your every move. And very soon, we expect it to be quite entertaining." Chuckling, he left the room.
Burien followed him. The door slammed shut, causing all the silver on it to glimmer. The bolt slid home.
Emma brought the chair back to the table. "What a creep. After I eat, I'll find all the cameras and destroy them." She touched the stuff in the bowl and tasted it from her fingertip. "Porridge. Not bad, actually, and I'm starving."
Angus sighed. His flask was gone. His heart twisted. Poor Emma. Katya had come up with the perfect way to torture them both. No wonder she wanted to watch.
"I hate to eat alone." Emma sat at the table, frowning. "Those jerks didn't bring you any food at all."
Then her eyes met his and her spoon dropped with a clatter on the table. At last she was realizing the true nature of their imprisonment.
"Aye," Angus told her. "As far as they're concerned, they have left me a source of food."
Chapter 20
Sean Whelan hesitated on the sidewalk in front of Roman Draganesti's townhouse. He suspected they were holding Emma Wallace prisoner inside.
When Emma hadn't shown up for the Wednesday meeting, he'd been mildly concerned. She could be running late or feeling poorly. But she wasn't answering her home phone or cell phone.
Ground-floor security reported she'd left the building early the night before with a man from MacKay Security and Investigation, the company that provided security for Roman Draganesti and Jean-Luc Echarpe. Since those two were powerful coven masters, Sean figured the company's owner, Angus MacKay, was also a vampire. In fact, he suspected Angus MacKay was the newly arrived Scotsman living at Draganesti's townhouse.
Dammit, Sean had known something was wrong the other night when he thought he'd heard Emma scream. These vampire men were despicable. First they kidnapped and seduced his daughter. Now they were after Emma.
The front door opened. Sean stiffened. The bastards inside had seen him. His revolver was tucked into his belt behind his back, fully loaded with silver bullets.
The vampire named Connor stood in the doorway, wearing his usual red and green plaid kilt. "Did ye have a question, Whelan, or were ye planning to glare at us all night?"
Sean strode to the base of the stairs. "I have a question, scumbag. Are you holding Emma Wallace against her will?"
The Scotsman arched a brow.
"'Cause if you are," Sean continued, "I'll have fifty FBI agents here in ten minutes to tear this place apart."
"We know Emma Wallace is missing." A pained look crossed Connor's face briefly. "One of ours is missing, too."
Sean frowned. "Are you saying they ran off together?"
Connor's eyes glimmered with anger. "Nay, they were kidnapped, and they're in grave danger. We're doing our best to find them." He started to close the door.
"Wait!" Sean climbed a stair. "Do you know who kidnapped them?"
Connor paused, then opened the door wider. "'Twas Katya Miniskaya and some of her Russian Malcontents."
"Why would they want your... friend?"
Connor gave him an irritated look. "If ye had listened to yer daughter, ye would know there are two factions amongst us."
"Yeah, right," Sean interrupted him. "I've heard it before. But why did they take Emma?"
Connor snorted. "It is amazing how little ye know. Emma Wallace is the slayer. She's killed at least four Malcontents since last summer. No doubt Katya is seeking revenge."
"Emma is a slayer?" Sean couldn't believe it. Why would she keep that a secret? Hell, he would have given her a medal.
Connor gritted his teeth. "She's the cause of this trouble. Angus was trying to protect her. Now Katya has them both."
"Angus MacKay?"
"Aye. He's been watching her, trying to keep her safe."
"What can we do?" Sean winced when he realized he'd used the word we.
Connor studied him, then nodded once. "All right. I see no harm in an exchange of information."