“We will leave you to contemplate your fate, Anita, but not alone. No, my Harlequin brought a very special guest to keep you company.”

My pulse had been calming down, but now it skyrocketed. Who did she have? Who else had she kidnapped? I tried to think who else had been in the hotel. Nathaniel and Damian had been with the police; they were safe. Who else did that leave? Donnie and Griffin had been in the lobby, but . . . I prayed hard for so many people not to come down those stairs, but Edward wasn’t on the list. . . . Somehow the thought of it being Edward didn’t seem possible, as if he weren’t touchable. I knew that wasn’t true, but I was less worried about him than about almost anyone else I loved in Ireland.

She watched my face as she said, “Bring in our other guest.”

As if they’d been waiting on the stairs for her order, two men walked into view carrying a third between them. My heart fell all the way to my feet, my knees went weak, and I had to make my hands into fists to keep myself upright and not show more emotion than I already had. It was Nathaniel. I didn’t know how they’d gotten him away from the police and all the people who were supposed to keep him safe, but there he was, the absolute last person I wanted to see dragged in here with me. God help me. God help us.

He was shirtless, with his arms fastened behind his back. I couldn’t see any injuries on him, which was a relief. The long braid of his hair was piled on top of his body, as if they’d tripped on it at some point and just gotten it out of the way. They’d tied a piece of gray cloth across his mouth for a gag. I stared into his wide lavender eyes and felt unmanned. To keep him safe, I would do anything; we were both so fucked.

He was in manacles, too, but he had them on his wrists and his ankles, with more chain wrapping around his upper body and his legs. They’d carried him down, because he could barely bend his body in the chains, let alone walk.

“I knew there had to be more fear in you somewhere, Anita, and there it is, and all for this man. Your leopard to call. Your fiancé, so I’m told, though you seem to have promised yourself to more men than you can actually wed. How does Mr. Graison feel about your wedding plans with Jean-Claude?”

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t seem to think of anything useful. I tried to think of anything that wouldn’t make this worse or give her the emotions she was wanting to feed on, but nothing constructive came to mind. For once in my life, I was frozen and didn’t know what to do. I mentally screamed at myself to get my shit together, to think, but all I could do was look into his eyes and be afraid for him. Fuck, I had to do better than this!

“Speechless with fear already, Anita? Do I need to do something to help loosen your tongue?”

That I had an answer for. “No, no.” Even the extra no was nerves, and she knew it. Damn it!

She went to Nathaniel and stroked the heavy braid, gathering it up in her hands and letting it fall to the floor. He looked at me, ignoring her as if she wasn’t there. I stared into those lavender eyes, that face, and tried to sense him. He wasn’t just one of my moitié bêtes; he was the other third of my own private triumvirate but I couldn’t feel him at all, as if he were less present than the other people in the room. Whatever magic was on the chains made Nathaniel almost blank. I couldn’t sense his energy at all, but I could sense hers, and Keegan’s, and Hamish’s, and Rodina’s, but not Nathaniel’s. The metal didn’t keep me from being psychic; it just kept me from being psychic with the people I was metaphysically joined with. That was interesting, maybe even useful. I couldn’t think how to use that knowledge yet, but it was something, and I’d take it, because something was better than what I’d had a second ago.

“Such beautiful hair,” she said. She stroked down his chest, touching the bare skin between the chains. Nathaniel got touched more than that when he danced onstage at Guilty Pleasures. We were okay. We were okay. I kept repeating that in my head like a mantra. “He’s in such good shape, Anita, so much exercise to put all that muscle on his chest and arms. All your men seem to be quite fierce about their gym routines, but then so are you, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, because she didn’t seem to like silence. “Yeah, we work out.”

“The tiger that we left wounded in the hotel killed two of my Roanes before he came to help you. My seal folk are not the Harlequin, but they are well trained. The fact that he slew two of them so quickly is testament to the training of your guard.”

“Ethan killed two of your men. I wondered what kept him out of the fight in the other room so long.”

She motioned at the two men holding Nathaniel, as if close to two hundred pounds of muscle wasn’t heavy at all. “They wish that my Harlequin had brought your wounded warrior here so they could revenge their brethren on him.”

I looked at the men more closely. One had black hair with dark brown eyes; the other had paler brown hair with gray eyes. They were handsome in that traditional guy way, but with Nathaniel in the room, they just didn’t look that good to me. I was biased, but they were broad through the shoulders and looked like there was the promise of muscle under their clothes. They didn’t have the black-on-black eyes that Roarke and Riley had had. I’d started thinking I could spot all the Roane, or Selkies, from their eyes, but apparently not. Good to know.

She came to stand in front of me again. “Do you want to know how we came to have your Mr. Graison in our power?”