Chapter TWENTY-FOUR-ARLISS&KIAN

ARLISS

My head is pounding, a slow, sick rhythm that matches the rumble beneath me as I start to come to.

Where the hell am I?

The air is sharp with the stench of gasoline, sweat, and something else—something animal.

It’s muskier than anything I’ve ever smelled, rank and wild and wrong.

Like a soiled litter box that’s been sitting in the sun.

The metallic tang of blood mixes with cheap aftershave and motor oil, and it makes my stomach roll.

The van I’m in feels like it’s doing a hundred down a bumpy back road, each jolt rattling my bones, making the ache in my skull bloom into something worse.

I try to move, but I can’t.

There’s something stuffed in my mouth.

Cotton or cloth?

I don’t know. I can’t tell.

But it’s damp with saliva and pressing painfully against my tongue. Tape is strapped tight across it, pulling at the skin around my lips.