How did he know she’d lied? And what lie was he referring to? “Please, Philip, let me go. You don’t want to do this.”

He touched the cold metal of the taser against the flesh of her cheek and ran it down her jaw.

She braced herself for the shock that didn’t come.

“I didn’t. But you didn’t leave me a choice. Now our time is running out and I need to know how this thing works.”

He tapped the taser against the stone on her necklace. It wasn’t possible for him to know the power of the stone, yet he stared at it now in morbid fascination.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“I think you know,” he said as he lifted the stone from her neck and rubbed it with his thumb. The stale garlic scent of his breath mixed with hers as he peered closer.

“I don’t.”

Philip wound his fingers around the pendant and yanked the chain. The force jerked her neck, and the metal bit into her skin. Piercing pain rippled down her back.

With her moan, Philip smiled.

Helen could feel his grip on reality starting to crack. She wasn’t sure how she knew his psyche was crumbling but it was. Every time he touched her in some sinister way his smile became more of a sneer, his eyes lost more focus.

“Please.”

“Please, please,” he mimicked. “Just tell me how it works, Helen, and I’ll be happy to let you go.” Said the spider to the fly. So she could run to the police and send his ass to jail? Not likely.

“I don’t know what—”

He slapped the words out of her mouth. She tasted blood.

“You flew to Scotland, checked into the hotel, and were back in the States within a few hours, calling the office from your apartment. How did you do that Helen?”

Her mind scrambled for a way out of his grip. Dammit, she should have learned to light the man’s ass on fire so she could run. Simon! He would know what to do. The sisters and all their magical mojo would know how to get the hell out of this impossible situation.

“That’s not possible. I was in Scotland.”

“Briefly.”

“Let me go,” she begged.

“Not until you tell us how it works.”

Us? Who the hell was us?

“How what works?”

He moved his hand holding the taser a few inches from her skin and squeezed the button.

Nausea burned in the back of her throat. She struggled with the restraints binding her hands. If she had her hands free…

“It was an accident. It only works for me,” she finally said.

He pressed his lips to her ear and leaned his frame into hers.

Every muscle in her body held perfectly still.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

He pulled in a deep breath, as if drawing her scent into his body before pushing away.

A long-suffering breath escaped her lungs when his body heat no longer mingled with hers. With some distance, her mind scrambled again. Behind him, a hallway loomed. Her voice echoed around her, giving the illusion that the house was empty. She moved her feet out in front of her, restoring some of her circulation.

“I don’t know if I can get it to work again,” she lied.

“Pain is a great memory aid.”

She could get it to work. A little blood, a simple chant. Then, pop, she’d be back in Scotland.

She closed her eyes and relief swelled in her chest. She’d be back in Scotland and away from Philip.

“If it only works for me, why commit a felony to understand its secrets?”

Philip glanced up at the ceiling. “A felony? Huh, guess you’re right about that. Must run in the family.”

Helen pulled her feet under her and started to inch up the wall.

The snap of the taser kept her seated. She’d need her hands free to touch the stone and move time. Being unconscious would nix her escape.

“This isn’t like you, Philip. You’re not your brother.”

Slowly his eyes drifted to hers and dark spears of anger rolled off him.

“What do you know of my brother?”

God, why had she said that? “I- You said something once…I think.”

He shook his head. “Try again, Helen, that lie doesn’t work.”

“I’m not sure where I heard it then.”

“I never speak of Malcolm. There are no family photos around for anyone to see.”

Malcolm? Where had she heard that name before?

“You’re not him,” she insisted. “You don’t want to hurt me.”

He reached her in two long strides and pulled her to her feet with the edges of her shirt. His whole body pushed against hers, pinning her to the wall. The hard line of his c**k slammed against her stomach and a completely new set of fears washed over her. Memories of old men in foster homes swam into her memories. She’d always managed to get away from them. She’d get away from Philip.

“I don’t know about that. Your skin trembles and the stink of fear dripping from your pores…” He ground his hips into her.

“No,” she whispered. Simon. Please help.

With one hand, he reached up and circled her neck with long fingers. “Tell me how it works.”

She nodded. “I’ll show you.”

His fingers squeezed.

“I need my hands free.”

She coughed and tried to back out of his hold.

“If you’re lying…”

“I’m not.”

His hands left her neck and dipped down the front of her blouse and around the swell of her breast. She closed her eyes and blocked the feeling. He kept moving until his hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her away from the wall.

His nose nuzzled her neck as he reached behind her.

“No.”

He laughed. Like lightning, he twisted her around, pressed her chest against the wall, and wrestled the tape from her wrists.

Her skin burned as it tore and bled from the abuse.

“Slow movements, Helen.”

It was a warning. Not that she needed it.

It took him a moment to move away from her, making her wonder if his motivations for her abduction were changing.

With him a few inches away, she wasted little time rubbing her bloody wrists against her palms. She closed a fist around her pendant and felt it warm. Only me. She pleaded in her brain.

“Turn around,” Philip barked.

He hadn’t moved far enough away, she realized. The chances of him traveling with her were too high. “You need to give me some room.”

One step back was all he allowed.

“Show me.”