Chapter 13: Hands on the Post

The loading door was unlocked, the way it always was when he was expecting me.

I walked in at midnight with my hands open at my sides.

Thirty men stood along the walls of the warehouse floor, and every one of them turned to watch me cross it.

Emmett Hanratty was by the far door with his arms folded. He looked at my face once, and then at the floor.

Corvin stood under the lamp beside the post.

He held a paper cup of tea.

"Sparrow," he said warmly. "You're thinner."

"Where is she?"

"Upstairs. Unharmed. I keep my word when it costs me nothing."

"Bring her down."

He tilted his head. "You're in no position to give orders."

"I'm not staying unless I see her."

He studied me for a moment, then nodded to two of his men.

They went up the back stairs and came down with Pru between them.

Her wrists were bound in front of her and her mouth was taped.

Her red hair stood up on one side, and her uniform shirt was torn at the shoulder.

When she saw me, she made a sound through the tape and fought the men holding her.

"I'm here, Pru," I said. "It's all right."

It was not all right, and she knew it, and she stopped fighting only to stare at me.

"Let her go," I said to Corvin, "and I stay."

"After."

"After what?"

He set the cup down on a crate and lifted the whip from its hook.

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