Chapter 46: Masks

Oil lanterns guttered from the four corners of the room, throwing the Lab into sharp relief. The light was muddy brown, almost the color of blood.

A long, pale wood table stood in the center of the room. The ugly light bathing the rest of the room hardly seemed to touch it. A bleached sort of glow seemed almost to radiate from the table, making it glint like an exposed bone. Four iron restraints had been bolted into the table, one at each corner, straining toward the ceiling like talons.

Caine was pushed toward it by the burly guard behind. When Caine hesitated, the man snarled and wrenched Caine’s bound arms higher behind his back. “Move it, you filth.”

His footsteps echoed eerily loud along the stony walls as Caine was forced forward. His heart was hammering in his chest and his mouth was as dry as dust. Every instinct told him to dig his heels in, to fight as hard as he could to get away from that lone table in front of him.

But he knew it would do no good.