Griff bowed again and took a step forward placing a hand on my bare back to lead me to my table.
The cushions were removed now, leaving a cold metal table with a rectangular hole in the top half. I could see men below dressed all in white. One looked up and caught my eye. A shiver ran up my spine. In his hands were two hooks sharpened to deadly points.
I closed my eyes and tried to breathe slowly, but it only allowed my mind to dream up scenarios for the use of such instruments. My knees gave way and again I was caught by Griff. He lifted me and gently placed me on the metal table with my back over the hole.
The cutout in the dress was not merely for decorative purposes. It was designed for beauty and function through centuries of our horror.
The Sari’s gait was nearly a dance as he made his way toward me.
“Sir, allow me to secure her,” Griff said.
“I can handle her.” He smiled a wicked smile.
Good. I wanted him to bleed and I would get the chance to make it happen.
“Sir, at least her arms?”
The Sari breathed a heavy sigh. “Fine, her hands.”
Griff knelt over me pulling the straps free that would hold my hands. He looked deep into my eyes and he seemed to be pleading. It was too tender a look for such a heavy thing he was silently asking of me. He wanted me to go down without a fight.
The Sari brushed Griff aside. He leaned over me, running his hands across my stomach as he reached for a strap. I had to give him credit. I was feeling no fear now.
He was not fast enough as I brought my legs up wrapping them like snakes around his neck. He stared at me with oddly calm eyes just before I slammed his head down, hard. The impact vibrated through the table.
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