Phelan heard the squeaking sound of Griff's teeth grinding together. "Vlad wasn't alone ..."

"What the hell difference does that make to me?" Phelan said, but he wondered why Kenny Ryan should be so intent on him finding out. If Kenny wants me to know, it has to be bad... Then the answer hit him. "No," he gasped. "It can't be ..."

"Hey, you guessed it, Kell," Ryan said cheerfully. "She was there with him and they weren't discussing troop movements." His voice dropped conspiratorially. "You didn't tell us she was a screamer, Kell."

The mental image of Ranna and Vlad coupling as light from the hallways splashed over them seared into Phelan's brain. All his own recollections of their times together became bitter, acid memories. The softness of her flesh under his hands became the caress of a thousand razor blades. Her cries of pleasure became mocking laughter and the love he had imagined in her eyes became contempt. I've been an idiot! Ulric has been using me, Vlad has been using me, and Ranna has been using me. I'm a tool, nothing more. It satisfies Ulric to have my counsel from time to time. It satisfies Vlad to make my life miserable. It satisfied Ranna to ...

The deep ache in the pit of his stomach kept him from finishing that thought. He turned to Griff, ignoring Ryan's mocking laughter, and swallowed hard. "Thanks for trying to protect me, but it's better I know ..."

Griff reached out to give Phelan's shoulder a squeeze. "I would have found a way to let you down easy, you know. I wouldn't have left you in the dark."

"Let him down?Keep him in the dark?God, stop it, Griff. You're killing me with these puns."

Griff threw back his blanket. "I'm gonna kill you with my bare hands, you malignant dwarf!"

Phelan saw Ryan's silhouette a few bunks away. "What's the matter? Isn't Kell man enough to fight his own battles, quineg?" Ryan's voice took on a razored edge. "Of course not. If he was a man,his little love-bitch wouldn't have found herself someone else, would she?"

The whispered sound of the door sliding open preceded the harsh flood of lights by a half-second. Phelan shaded his eyes and saw Vlad framed in the doorway. His blue jumpsuit was unzipped to the waist and sweat glistened on the mat of curly black hair on his chest. His eyes seemed to burn with fury and his expression looked positively demonic.

"Which of you savashridared invade my chambers?" Vlad snarled. "The rest of you give him up, or it will go badly for all."

Vlad held a black, fifteen-centimeter-long tube in his right hand. As he flicked his wrist away from his body, three meter's worth of flexible black cable uncoiled itself like a languid tentacle. His thumb pressed down on a red stud on the handle, filling the room with a hiss that sounded somewhere between radio static and a rattlesnake's warning. The men in bunks closest to the door backed away immediately and Vlad laughed viciously.

"Who will be punished, children? Will I have to start at random?" He swung the electro-lash effortlessly at one of the bunks. The cable slapped into a pillow, which then exploded into half-melted bits of spongy fiber. As the stink of burned petrochem filled the air, Vlad gestured the men forward with his free hand. "Believe me, I will find the guilty parties and they will pay. Do you answer me voluntarily, or do I have to force the answers out of you?"

Phelan's pain over Ranna changed to anger. An electrolash ... the kinder cousin of a neural whip. It won't leave you permanently damaged, but it doesn't cause enough pain to put you out, either. Using them on beasts of burden or for animal control—as they were intended—is one thing. Using them indiscriminately on men is another ...

Vlad pointed to one man cowering at the foot of Kenny Ryan's bunk. "You," he said. "Come here."

Phelan threw back his covers. "No, Vlad. Leave him alone."

The Clansman's head came up, and everyone else turned their attention to the mercenary. "You? It is youwho will tell me who they were?"

Phelan shook his head. "I'm the one you want. I claim all responsibility."

Vlad's cruel snicker accompanied the slow shaking of his head. "No, Kell, this will not work the way you think. The fact that the Khan has claimed you as his own would not stop me from beating you even if you were one of the guilty."

Phelan walked toward the front of the room. "No trick. I'm it."

The Clansman's eyes narrowed. "You weren't even there. Why are you doing this?"

The Kell Hound matched Vlad's angry stare. "I wasthere. Do you want me to describe it to you, quiaff?" Phelan hesitated and his brave facade almost broke. As he moved forward, he saw Ranna standing back from the doorway. Waves of pain at her betrayal threatened to drown him, but he forced himself to play out his hand. "You and Ranna were together, enjoying one another's company."

He forced himself to laugh, and he heard the sound echo with the hollowness of his insides. "And from what I heard,you were enjoying each other immensely."

Confusion arced through Vlad's eyes. "You were not there. There were two and neither had your build."

Phelan laughed casually. "How can you be so sure? In the state you were in, it's a wonder you remember anything reliably. Sights and sounds and time all seem to drift away, don't they?"

Anger furrowed Vlad's brow. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's my responsibility. I did it. I'm the one you want." Phelan looked over at the other bondsmen. "No one else will own up to this crime, and everyone else will say I did it, no matter how much you torture them. What's the matter? Did you want more foreplay?"

Vlad's face locked into a mask of fury. "I will break you, you know. You may have thought to save the others, but in the end, you will give them to me. Believe me, you will."

Phelan shook his head slowly. "Do your worst."

Vlad dug a meter-length of white cord from his pocket and tossed it to Kenny Ryan. "Strip him to the waist, then tie his hands to the top bunk rail."

Phelan unzipped his jumpsuit and tied the sleeves around his waist as Ryan climbed to the top bunk. Phelan offered Ryan his hands and the pirate slid the bondcord down to the mercenary's forearm before expertly trussing his wrists together.

"You're nuts, Kell." Ryan watched the mercenary's face, searching for something. "Don't expect me to thank you for this, because he'll make it worse on us when you give us up."

The Kell Hound shook his head. "If you were a man,Ryan, you might understand why I'm doing this. I made the lockpick. It's my responsibility. And don't worry, your back will be spared." Phelan glanced back over his shoulder at Vlad. "I can hurt him more by not telling than he can possibly hurt me, and that's enough to keep your secret."

As Phelan turned back toward the bunk, he saw Ranna looking at him incredulously. She met his gaze, then quickly looked away.

The electro-lash wrapped around his chest like a ribbon of molten steel. It tightened on his ribcage and sent fiery tendrils of pain shooting up and down his spine. All his muscles spasmed, then contracted, leaving him to hang roughly from the cord around his wrists. The pure agony shattered his resolve to remain silent, allowing an inhuman wail of excruciating pain to rip through his throat.

His screams stopped when his throat became too raw to make any sound at all.