Page 118 of Blood Code

I surfaced sometime later, barely conscious, and something tugged at my wrists, followed by the rough scrape of rope against my skin.

She was tying me to something.

I didn’t know what, but that hardly mattered. I kept my eyes closed and tensed my arms, twisting my wrists to create a little extra room beneath the ropes.

If she believed I was still unconscious, she wouldn’t know I’d given myself enough slack to work with later.

I’d managed it, but then my consciousness slipped away again.

A heaviness settled in my bones as I slowly surfaced. Pain split through my head. Rough and sharp. The drugs were not being kind to my poor head.

I tried to rub my temples, but my wrists met resistance. Rope. Closing my eyes, I drew in a slow breath because calming myself had always helped with pain.

Without sight, I could focus more on her movements.

Her soft, gentle hands stroked my wrist before slipping beneath the cuff of my pressed shirt and rolling up my sleeve.

She sucked in an audible breath and went still, her fingers trembling against the cotton.

A low sound escaped her lips. I couldn’t interpret it, but she was clearly examining the tattoo on my left arm.

The Willow Tree.

After a long moment, she moved to my right arm and repeated the process. The moment she saw that side, she whimpered.

Interesting.

I kept my eyes closed and my breathing steady, maintaining the illusion of unconsciousness.

Her fingers lifted from my skin, and I sensed her moving away before returning. She paused beside me, and I swallowed hard.

Trying to predict what this woman might do next was impossible.

She was unhinged.

But, honestly, that was what I liked about her.

Then pain bloomed along my left arm. A white-hot sting that traveled across my skin, the pressure pulling it apart. My muscles tightened involuntarily, but I kept my eyes closed and breathed through my nose.

She was carving into me.

Letters, from the feel of it. I kept my breathing steady and focused on each letter. Reading it. After the third letter, I gritted my teeth against the pain and opened my eyes. My gaze settled on her face.

Whatever she was carving could wait. I wanted to watch her.

Besides, I could feel the letters taking shape.

They weren’t difficult to recognize.

With my right hand, I tested the ropes. Just as I’d expected, I could slip my wrists free and stop her whenever I wanted. But I didn’t want to.

I wanted to see what she would do, and if that meant enduring a little pain, so be it.

Not that it mattered.

This was only a flesh wound; it would scar, but then I was a masterpiece of scars already, and allowing her to continue would tell me far more.

It was better to get to know my opponent than show all my cards too early.