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“I assure you, Ms. Blake, that I intend to let you go.”

“What about the others?”

He gave a small shrug, and walked back behind his desk. “Unfortunately, my men think that Mr. Forrester is too dangerous to be allowed to live. I do regret that.” He sat down in his nice swivel chair, elbows on the chair arms, thick fingers steepled. “But he will serve a useful purpose before he dies. If you are reluctant, we will take it out on Mr. Forrester. Since we intend to kill him anyway, we can do anything we want to him, and it doesn’t really matter.”

My stomach was a hard knot, my pulse beating in my throat hard enough that I had to try twice to talk. “What about the kids?”

“Do you really care?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?”

He reached behind the desk and pressed something. The rear walls of the room slid open, revealing enough equipment to make NASA proud. There were four blank TV screens, but somehow I didn’t think this was Riker’s new Digital Television system.

“What the hell is all that for?” I asked.

“That is not really your concern. I have signaled for additional men to be brought up. When they arrive, then I will show you the children.”

“Why the additional men?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” he said.

We didn’t have long to wait. Four men came through the door. Two I recognized: Harold of the scarred face and Newt who I’d nearly made a soprano. Harold had a shotgun, and Newt his big nickel-plated .45. But it was the two men behind them that were the problem.

One was tall and planed down to nothing but muscle and dark, burnished skin. He didn’t have Mickey’s bulk, but he didn’t need it. He entered the room surrounded by a cloud of his own violent potential. He set my lizard sense screaming, as if it knew here was someone to avoid. He had the same gun the other pros were carrying, but he’d added knives. At his forearms, his upper arms, both hips, and even hilts sticking up from behind his shoulders. It was very primitive somehow and very effective. If he’d walked into a cell, you might have dropped to your knees and begged for mercy.

The other one was just medium height, medium brown hair cut short, not too dark, not too light, not too anything. He had a face that you wouldn’t remember two seconds after you saw it, because he was not handsome enough or ugly enough to stand out. He was one of the most unmemorable people I’d ever seen, and yet when his brown eyes swept over me, met mine for a second, I felt a jolt all the way down to my feet. One flash, and I knew that of the two men, he would kill you quicker.

He had the same submachine gun the others had, but paired with what looked like a .10 mil automatic. I didn’t recognize the brand. My hands aren’t big enough for a .10 mil so I don’t pay that much attention.

“Simon, I want two men on both of our guests.”

“Make it four on him,” Simon said.

“I bow to your expertise.”

Rooster made Edward get on his knees. Simon made Mickey go to Edward. I guess he didn’t want to risk the Muscle Man hitting me again. If they killed Edward early, they still had the kids to blackmail with. Simon sent the medium man to Edward, and Simon himself took up a post by Edward. They thought he was a very dangerous man, and they were right.

The nausea had been fading, but all the preparations were making me nervous. I was afraid of what we were going to see. If they hadn’t been afraid to show us, they wouldn’t have had four men on Edward. I was left with Deuce and the knife guy. Harold and Newt stayed near the door. Harold seemed nervous.

Deuce touched my arm, tracing the mound of scar tissue at my elbow. “What did it?”

“Vampire.”

He raised his shirt up, and his stomach was a mass of white scars. “Mortar round.”

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. But I was saved from the decision because the knife guy grabbed my arm and turned me to look at Riker. He kept his hand on my arm, and since his hand completely encircled my upper arm, it wasn’t going to be easy to get away.

“Show time,” Riker said. He hit another switch, and two of the monitors