“Thomas is in pain.”
“In pain?”
“Silver.”
All of them stared at the door knob, and now Samson noticed it. The knob was covered with silver foil. He shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around his hand before testing the knob. He could feel the effect of the silver even through the thick cloth, but it was muted.
Silver was the only metal capable of burning a vampire’s skin. It served as the only way to restrain a vampire.
Samson nodded to his friends, then jerked the door open. Before them was the dungeon. Samson had always suspected Thomas of having a room where he unleashed some of his baser fantasies, but he had never expected it to be quite like an exhibit as could be seen at the Folsom Street Fair. Flogging galore. Not for the faint of heart.
Samson rushed into the dimly lit room, Ricky and Amaury on his heels. The source of Thomas’ pain was evident instantly. He was restrained against a wall, held in place by silver chains. Chains he would be unable to break. His skin was covered in painful sores where the silver touched him.
Relief flooded through Samson instantly. Thomas hadn’t betrayed him. Somebody had overpowered him.
“Thomas!”
Thomas’ head lifted an inch, but he appeared too weak to look at them.
“Ricky, Amaury,” Samson ordered with a shrug of his head toward the chains.
Ricky and Amaury did like Samson and took off their jackets, wrapping them around their hands to work on releasing the chains.
When the last chain fell free, Samson caught Thomas’ injured body in his arms and placed him on the chaise in the corner.
“Ricky, get him some blood. Upstairs.”
He stroked a hand over Thomas’ burned face and heard him wince.
“Who did this to you?” Samson’s voice was low.
Thomas’ lips moved. “Milo.”
“Amaury, find him.”
Thomas’ hand instantly gripped Amaury’s to hold him back.
“No.”
Samson looked at Thomas, not understanding.
“He’s dangerous.”
Ricky arrived with the blood. “Drink.” He led a bottle of blood to Thomas’ lips and let him gulp it down. Seconds ticked away. Amaury’s impatience showed.
“Milo stole my password. He’s going to ruin you,” Thomas pressed out. “I’m sorry Samson; I didn’t see it coming.” Genuine regret flooded Thomas’ eyes.
“None of us did. We’ll get him, don’t worry.” Samson’s voice was calmer now. Knowing that he didn’t have to kill his friend Thomas had eased his pain.
“I can reverse it. Get me upstairs to my computer. I can do it.”
Samson and Amaury helped him up. “Can you stand?”
Thomas nodded. “I’m better. But you have to hurry. Milo will get away, and so will Ilona.”
“Ilona?” Samson stopped in his tracks.
“Yes. She’s his sister. He’s doing this for her. She’s been after your money all along.”
So she hadn’t given up after he’d dumped her. He should have known.
“How did you find out?”
“Just a hunch that Milo was hiding something from me. And then, when Ricky and I went to find John … When we got to his house …” he hesitated and looked straight at Ricky. “I know I should have said something right then, but that’s when John’s wife screamed and we ran inside.”
“What happened?” Samson asked.
“I picked up a familiar scent. It was faint, but I thought I recognized it. Now I know for sure. It was Milo. He killed the accountant.”
Samson swallowed hard. “I remember that he was in a hurry to leave the warehouse. It should have tipped me off, but I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“None of us noticed … and of all people, I should have caught onto him much earlier. I spent the most time with him. I should have seen it,” Thomas blamed himself.
Ricky waved him off. “He deceived you. It’s not your fault.”
Amaury nodded in agreement. “If anything, I should have picked up on his emotions. I should have figured it out.”
“Stop, everybody,” Samson said. “What’s done is done.” He looked at Amaury. “Milo would have guarded his emotions from you. He knew about your gift. As for deceiving a lover—we’ve all been on the receiving end of it at one point or another. You’re not to blame, Thomas. I’m just glad he didn’t kill you.” He put his hand on Thomas’ shoulder and squeezed it in assurance. “What happened then?”