Chapter 20: The Cellar Under the Gilt Room

They came out of the dark beside the pumps while I was still looking at the shop door.

The car doors on both sides opened at once.

A man in a black jacket slid in beside me, and another took the driver's seat.

Cold air from outside touched my face.

"Quiet, miss," the one beside me said. "Nobody wants this to hurt."

I hit him.

I put my whole arm behind it, and my fist caught him on the bridge of the nose, and he swore.

I clawed for the handle on the far side.

The door was locked.

The man at the wheel started the engine, and I kicked the back of his seat so hard that the whole car jerked.

"Hold her," he said.

The man beside me caught my wrists in one big hand.

I bit the heel of it, and I tasted blood.

He hit me across the face with the other hand, and my head cracked against the window.

For a moment the world went white.

"Enough," he said, thickly. "Do it."

I felt a cloth go over my mouth that smelled sweet and chemical.

I tried to hold my breath and could not, and the dark closed in from the edges.

The last thing I saw was the shop door.

Through the glass, I saw the driver on the floor between the shelves.

A man crouched over him with a boot on his arm.

I woke on a cold floor with my wrists tied in front of me.

My cheek throbbed, and my mouth tasted of copper and sweet rot.

I knew the smell of the air before I knew the room.

It was floor polish and old smoke, and underneath that was the cellar smell of wet stone.

I was in the Gilt Room.

The ceiling above me was low and bare, with a single bulb hanging from a wire, and the walls were brick.

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