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The trouble was when they let me go, they were going to try a nasty little spell on me. I had to get away before then. Somehow, I had to get away. Dear God, please let me get away.

The door opened as if on cue, but it wasn’t help.

Bruno entered, carrying Wanda in his arms. Blood had dried down the right side of her face from a cut above the eye. Her left cheek was ripe with a huge bruise. The lower lip had burst in a still bleeding cut. Her eyes were shut. I wasn’t even sure she was conscious.

I had an aching line on the left side of my face where Bruno had kicked me, but it was nothing to Wanda’s injuries.

“Now what?” I asked Bruno.

“Some company for you. When she wakes up, ask her what else Tommy did to her. See if that will persuade you to raise the zombie.”

“I thought Dominga was going to bespell me into helping you.”

He shrugged. “Gaynor doesn’t put much faith in her since she screwed up so badly.”

“He doesn’t give second chances, I guess,” I said.

“No, he doesn’t.” He laid Wanda on the floor near me. “You best take his offer, girl. One dead whore and you get a million dollars. Take it.”

“You’re going to use Wanda for the sacrifice,” I said. My voice sounded tired even to me.

“Gaynor don’t give second chances.”

I nodded. “How’s your knee?”

He grimaced. “I put it back in place.”

“That must have hurt like hell,” I said.

“It did. If you don’t help Gaynor, you’re going to find out exactly how much it hurt.”

“An eye for an eye,” I said.

He nodded and stood. He favored his right leg. He caught me looking at the leg.

“Talk to Wanda. Decide what you want to end up as. Gaynor’s talking about making you a cripple, then keeping you around as his toy. You don’t want that.”

“How can you work for him?”

He shrugged. “Pays real well.”

“Money isn’t everything.”

“Spoken by somebody who’s never gone hungry.”

He had me there. I just looked at him. We stared at each other for a few minutes. There was something human in his eyes at last. I couldn’t read it though. Whatever emotion it was, it was nothing I understood.

He turned and left the room.

I stared down at Wanda. She lay on her side without moving. She was wearing another long multicolored skirt. A white blouse with a wide lace collar was half-ripped from one shoulder. The bra she wore was the color of plums. I bet there had been panties to match before Tommy got hold of her.

“Wanda,” I said it softly. “Wanda, can you hear me?”

Her head moved slowly, painfully. One eye opened wide and panic-stricken. The other eye was glued shut with dried blood. Wanda pawed at the eye, frantic for a moment. When she could open both eyes, she blinked at me. Her eyes took a moment to focus and really see who it was. What had she expected to see in those first few panicked moments? I didn’t want to know.

“Wanda, can you speak?”

“Yes.” The voice was soft, but clear.

I wanted to ask if she was alright, but I knew the answer to that. “If you can get over here and free me, I’ll get us out of here.”

She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “We can’t get out. Harold’s gonna kill us.” She made that last sound like a statement of pure fact.

“I don’t believe in giving up, Wanda. Untie me and I’ll think of something.”

“He’ll hurt me if I help you,” she said.

“He’s planning on you being the human sacrifice to raise his ancestor. How much more hurt can you get?”

She blinked at me, but her eyes were clearing. It was almost as if panic were a drug, and Wanda was fighting off the influence. Or maybe it was Harold Gaynor who was the drug. Yeah, that made sense. She was a junkie. A Harold Gaynor junkie. Every junkie is willing to die for one more fix. But I wasn’t.

“Untie me, Wanda, please. I can get us out of this.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Then we’re no worse off,” I said.

She seemed to think about that for a minute. I strained for sounds from the hallway. If Bruno came back while we were in the middle of escaping, it would be very bad.

Wanda propped herself up on her arms.