Stolen (Otherworld 2)

"What's wrong with him?"

"Where do I start? Tyrone Winsloe is"--Armen cocked his head toward the door; footsteps entered the waiting room, then stopped--"out of town on business at the moment." He lowered his voice. "If you need any help ... adjusting, please ask. This isn't a very pleasant place. The sooner we can be out of it, the sooner we'll all feel much better."

As he fixed me with a knowing look, I knew he wasn't offering help with my psychological adjustment.

"As I said, my special ability isn't very useful," he murmured. "But I'm very observant ... as a psychiatrist. And like everyone, I can always use companionship. For moral support. Additional resources and strength. That, I believe, is your specialty. Strength."

The doorknob turned. Carmichael bumped it open with a clipboard and walked in, flipping through pages.

"Off you go, then, Ms. Michaels," she said. "Your escort is in the waiting room."

"A pleasure to meet you, Elena," Armen said as I left. "Do enjoy your stay."

Bauer and the guards took me back to the sitting/interrogation room. One guard fastened me to the leg and torso restraints, and removed my arm restraints, which pleased me until I realized they'd only left my hands free so I could eat lunch. Once I finished, on went the handcuffs. Then Matasumi and Tess joined us, and I endured round two of interrogation.

A couple of hours later, as Bauer walked me to my cell, I checked across the hall. The opposite cell was empty.

"Where's Ruth?" I asked.

"A slight setback. She's in the infirmary."

"Is she okay?"

"There's no immediate danger. We're probably over reacting, but our guests' health is very important."

"Can I see her when she comes back?"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," she said, reaching for the door to my cell. "But I have arranged for company of a different sort."

"I'd like to speak to Ruth."

Pushing open my door, Bauer walked through as if I hadn't said anything. The guards prodded me forward. I stepped into my cell, then stopped. My hackles rose, and some ancient instinct warned me that my den had been invaded.

"You remember Leah, don't you?" Bauer said.

The red-haired half-demon sat at my table, pouring a glass of wine. She glanced up and smiled.

"Hey," she said. "Elena, right?"

I nodded.

"Welcome to the party," she said, raising her glass in a toast. "Can you believe this? Wine, cheese, fancy crackers. I don't eat this well at home. Are you joining us, Sondra?"

"If you don't mind."

"The more the merrier." Leah beamed a smile 100 percent sarcasm-free. "May I pour you ladies a glass?"

"Please," Bauer said.

I didn't answer, but Leah filled two more glasses. As Bauer stepped forward to take hers, I could only gape. A wine and cheese party? Please tell me they were kidding.

"Do you like white?" Bauer asked, extending a glass to me. "It's a very good vintage."

"Uh--thanks." I took the wine and managed to fold myself into a chair, a task that seemed far more onerous than it should.

"Elena's a journalist," Bauer said.

"Really? TV or radio?" Leah asked.