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Chapters (28)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for Christine Feehan’s Leopard Novels
  3. Titles by Christine Feehan
  4. Dedication
  5. For My Readers
  6. Acknowledgments
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. Excerpt from POWER GAME
  28. What’s next onyour reading list?

Bellisia was aware of her heart laboring harder and the pressure on her lungs becoming more severe. That was unusual. She’d taken a large gulp of air and she should have quite a bit of time left before she had to rise, but it felt as if she’d been underwater a little too long, even for her. Of course Whitney would find something that would negatively impact her ability in the water. He didn’t want her to use that means as an escape route.

She had no choice but to begin her ascent. She tried to stay to the side of the tank that they’d already dredged. It was terrifying to be in the water as the large, heavy hooks slammed close to her again and again. It was inevitable that she would be hit, given the many strikes the soldiers made at the water, and it happened as she was just pushing off the wall to allow her body to rise slowly, naturally. The hook hit the bottom of the tank and was jerked upward and to the left, right across her back. She folded herself in half to minimize the damage, but it hit hard enough to jar her, even with the way the water slowed the big hook down.

Bellisia felt the burn as the point ripped her skin open. It was a shallow wound, but it stung like hell and instantly there was blood in the water. She had to concentrate to close those cells to keep from leaking enough blood that the soldiers would notice. Under her skin she had a network of finely controlled muscles that aided her in changing the look and feel of her body’s surface skin. Now, she used them to squeeze the cells closed and prevent dumping blood into the water, at least until the spotlights were turned off.

It seemed to take forever as she continued to rise, her lungs burning and her muscles cramping. All the while the horrible splash and scraping of the hooks continued. Twice she had extremely close calls and once more the tip barely skimmed along her body, hitting her thigh, ripping her open. It was much harder to control the bleeding this time, as she was weaker and needed to break the surface before her muscles went into full cramps.