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had prepared himself for physical torture, but the isolation proved to be far worse. After a while he found himself eager for any attention at all. Even a onesided conversation was better than the stone cold silence of his existence.
    Without light, the hours melded into nothingness, lacking any sense of morning or night. And worse, he had no idea how long he'd been in this godforsaken place. Drugs initially muddled his perception, but now that his mind had cleared, the reality of his predicament hit hard.
    If they never came back, he'd die in this place. He had lost control of everything.
    "Defeat comes to no man until he admits it," he muttered, knowing he sounded more like a madman. Even though the old quote sprang into his head, the words implied a defiance he no longer possessed.
    Being a prisoner to darkness, only his thoughts kept him company in the endless void—perhaps the greatest cruelty. He had no regrets about his life, so contemplating it would do no good. But what had become of Jasmine? With the power of her spirit, surely he would feel her passing from this life. At least, he'd like to think he would feel it. They shared an undeniable bond.
    Surely he would know.
    "I still can't believe Nicholas . . ." Jasmine closed her eyes tight and grappled for the words. "Perhaps I should tell you what lead me to your door . . . then we can discuss what I will need ..."
    She shared her story, speaking in a quiet tone as she stood before him.
    Christian witnessed her struggle for control over emotion, an uncharacteristic facet of the assassin he'd seen operate up close. As she turned away, he moved closer to Raven, finding a seat next to her on the sofa. Her fingers wrapped in his, making their connection stronger. He felt comforted by her presence, even as Jasmine told her disturbing tale.
    ". . . After it happened, I planned to stay in Brazil, to lead the search for Nicky. But something felt . . . wrong." She walked toward the kitchen and stopped at the counter. Staring across the room, lost in her memory, she clutched her arms over her chest. "I sensed it was not safe for me to remain, not if I was going to help him."
    "What do you mean something felt wrong?" Christian asked, though he fully understood Jasmine heeding her sixth sense. "You were only doing your job. Why was it not safe for you to remain?"
    "It seemed like I was the only one who wanted to find Nicky. The American Consulate, the State Department, the local law ... no one would help soon enough. With politicos and bureaucrats, delay is commonplace, regardless of the urgency of the situation. But I was running out of time."
    Normally quite composed, Jasmine gestured with her hands to make her point. Emotion seethed to the surface of her cool facade. It was the most animated he had ever seen her face, even in the instant when she killed. She rejoined them and took a chair. Leaning closer, she held her eyes on him, doing her best to ignore Raven.
    "But the real clincher was when I contacted his lawyer in Chicago to arrange for the ransom money. That conversation felt most peculiar . . . like he knew something I did not."
    "Come on, Jasmine. You've got to give me something more than that. Having a conversation with a lawyer who acts like he knows more than you do? That's standard procedure, isn't it?" Christian let his annoyance show.
    Jasmine's eyes fired with indignation before she regained control.
    "It was more than just the inherent arrogance of a man in that profession. I got the distinct impression he suspected me of being involved with the abduction. And if the syndicate believes I am guilty of kidnapping and extortion, then I will soon be a target for a global fox hunt. I do not relish playing the part of a furry creature with a tail, with rabid hounds nipping at my flanks, given the vast resources of the syndicate's holdings. Perhaps Nicky isn't the only one running out of time."
    "Did his lawyer come right out and accuse you?" he asked.
    "No, not