The cutting of his tongue was not enough. She stuffed a rubber ball in his mouth and fastened it in place with a strap, picked out her favorite lash. Perhaps, for the occasion, she’d add razor blades. His dark eyes, so wide with terror. Perhaps now the cigarette. Perhaps now—

“I understand perfectly.”

She stood up when he did, bowed low in the Oriental fashion she knew he would expect. He was a small man, really, hardly taller than she, with neat hands and small fingers.

She did not know his name, and had never wanted to.

Her fantasy of revenge was sweet enough to drown her fear. She even had the courage to smile at him, and saw he was surprised.

“Perhaps,” she said, forcing her voice low in her throat where it purred and vibrated, “you would allow me to do you some service. It would be my pleasure.”

Close, so close; she saw it in his eyes. He was aroused and ready to agree.

“A fine offer,” he said, and stood aside as he opened the door. “I expect you’d make an exquisite servant.”

Her fear returned with the force of a tidal wave, slamming aside her fantasies in favor of red memories, old terrors. She hoped her smile remained enigmatic, and bowed.

As she walked slowly away down the cool paneled hallway, she thought, no master. Never again. Not at any price.

If Velvet was the price of retaining her freedom, she would flay the stupid girl and present the man her skin.

Chapter Twelve

Velvet

Velvet stared into the mirror and probed a blue green bruise on her cheek, winced when pain spread like waves in a waterbed. The bruise was bad—half her face—but her eye looked worse. She was starring in a movie. Blood Eyes of the Zombie Hooker. A straight-to-video release.

Outside the bathroom, she heard Robby and Jim talking, a smear of quiet hissing voices. He was trying to talk her out of something. Jesus, she’d only been around a couple of times, and she already knew that was the way those two went. Boring as shit.

She probed her teeth with her tongue, found one a little loose, and pushed on it with her finger. She didn’t think it would come out, but this seemed like a good time to take advantage of Ming’s free dentist. One good shot of novacaine and she’d never feel anything anyway—better to do it when her face was already busted up. More efficient.

Robby had left her an ice pack. She picked up the plastic baggie and weighed it in her palm. The ice cubes slid greasily from one side to the other.