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Tripp surprised me by stumbling as well, before body-slamming me onto the hard floor. My limbs were numbing but I still felt my face eat rubber as his full weight dropped atop mine. Pain arrowed through my right knee, tendons stretched and threatening to snap. Then he twisted again, loosening his hold on my neck. I choked on the fresh air, the soft tissue there already bruised and swollen. My larynx had either shifted to a place it shouldn’t have or was missing altogether. The pain brought tears to my eyes even as the oxygen worked to clear my vision.
    Then screeching metal joined the panicked voices, and the bus rocked harder. I was still trapped beneath Tripp’s arm but glanced up to see the metal rooftop peeling open like an aluminum can. Tripp’s partner, was my first thought, because such bold destruction was the mark of a Shadow. Then he cursed, and my hopes soared.
    One of the Light? A former ally watching over me after all?
    The thought gave me strength, and I decided to buy myself time for whatever they had in mind. I whipped my head back and his nose crunched beneath its weight. Another curse, then his forearm tensed in the tightest grip yet. My vision deteriorated into stop-motion, but I made out three terrifying things in the next few seconds:
    A skeleton’s face, wrapped in worn, leather skin.
    The skeleton’s rotted grin and bright, curved blade.
    A scissored cry as the skeleton leapt.
    Tripp yelled, terrified, but sunk one booted foot into the falling man’s middle. The blade arced, and another scream followed, sounding red. Then there was more frantic jostling as Tripp fled with me, faster than a Chevy on drag night. On his way out, though, he thoughtlessly rapped my head into one of those sexy Lucite poles. Embarrassment flooded me as I thought, Death by stripper pole . Then I was out.
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    I’d been knocked unconscious enough times to be intimately familiar with the staggered return of hearing, the touch-and-go awareness of feeling returning to limbs, and the eventual need to open eyes and regain bearings…whether one wanted to or not.
    â€œWhat fresh hell is this?” I murmured, even before I’d peeked. You were never bound to wake to something good after a violent kidnapping.
    Despite a wave of dizziness, I recognized Tripp’s stocky, hunched outline, though his back was to me, his desk lamp angled low. He didn’t bother looking up.
    Probably because of the Boy Scout/bondage thing he had going on. I tested my restraints, unsurprised when all I could do was tense my muscles. Overkill in restraining a mortal, but then Harlan Tripp wasn’t known for his generous nature…and he probably didn’t yet know I was mortal. I certainly wasn’t going to clue him in.
    Studying the narrow glass surfaces around me, I realized I lay atop an identical one like some pending sacrifice. I wasn’t a virgin, though, so I reserved hope for escape. We were in a darkened jewelry store with bright surfaces and tiny custom cushions filling every available space in the glass interiors. I didn’t know how Tripp had circumvented the store’s alarm—the entire store was a vault, thus the jewels still safe in their cases—but there he was, relaxed as could be behind the jeweler’s desk. I didn’t ask what he was going to do with the cutters.
    â€œDiamonds really are forever,” I finally quipped in the elongated silence, though the scratch in my voice belayed the forced tone. “But if you’re going to choke me, please use the emeralds.”
    â€œDon’t tempt me… Olivia. ”
    My purse was open next to him, my identification spread haphazardly over the desk. So he knew who I was, big deal. I was already mortal and bound like a rodeo calf. He didn’t need my cover identity to kill me, just a reason and the flick of his wrist.
    â€œHow’s the nose?” I asked cheerfully.
    â€œAlready healed.