Page 105 of Thirst
I set my jaw and pressed Nazaire’s number.
He answered on the second ring.
“Allô,” I said. “C’est moi—Nyx.”
A short silence. Then he said in French, “You got my message, then.”
“Yes,” I said in the same language, then blurted, “Please let Perla go. She has nothing to do with this.”
The others stiffened. I knew all three men spoke French, and Twilight’s narrowed eyes told me she understood as well. But if there was even the smallest chance my father would release Perla, I had to try.
He chuckled. “She means so much to you, then?”
Too late, I realized I’d only confirmed that Perla was important to me. I tightened my grip on the phone. “What do you want?”
His voice turned cold. “I think you know, little rabbit.”
My mouth tightened. “Why would I know?”
“Because that bastard of a lieutenant is probably standing right next to you.”
“And if he is?”
“Tell him I’m waiting.” He paused. “Meanwhile, Perla is, too. I’ve missed her taste. It would be a shame to drain her completely…”
Drain her?
“No! Please?—”
But he’d ended the call.
Around me, the others had stilled.
“He’s not bluffing,” Twilight said.
“No.” I stared down at the phone, the screen blurring for a moment. “But he’ll keep her alive for now. Just keep…torturing her. And sending me photos?—”
My voice cracked, and Cain’s arms came around me in a hard hug.
I wanted to stiffen against him, but I couldn’t. I needed that hug too badly. So I sank into it, let myself take some comfort.
He touched his lips to my temple. “Tomorrow night,” he promised. “We won’t let him drag this out.”
His friends muttered their agreement.
“Good,” I said fiercely and pulled away from Cain.
Twilight grabbed my drawing pad and the pencil box. “I know you’ll be with us,” she said, “but map out Nazaire’s lair anyway. The more we know going in, the better.”
I nodded and led them into the kitchenette, settling on a stool. The others crowded in—Cain and Twilight on either side of me, Talon and Brien across the counter. I flipped to an empty page and pulled out a fine charcoal pencil.
“Can I ask you something?” I said to Brien as I began to sketch. “Give Perla a place here on the island. She’s not safe in Quebec.”
He nodded without hesitation. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” I sent him a grateful smile. “You won’t be sorry. She’s a good person, and she works hard.”
Twilight glanced from me to Cain. “And you?”
