Jack was lying in the fetal position in the middle of Jarvis's cream carpet. Scented candles were placed in and around the bronze statues casting a golden light throughout the entire room. Tabitha's drug-tipped thorn had worked quickly, turning Tom's bones into mush.
He'd been stripped to the waist and gently wrapped up in the wolf skin. It clung to his sweating body like a frightened child. Now, with every breath of drowsy air, his senses swam a little deeper into a cold night that came for him alone.
Jack heard Tabitha speak as though from a hundred miles away. Her accent seemed less pronounced now. 'He is prepared, Professor. We can begin.'
Professor? Who the hell was a professional? Jack couldn't help but wonder.
'Switch on the webcam,' Jarvis barked, 'and signal to Maski that we're ready when he is.'
Jack felt his world crumple at his feet.
Jarvis couldn't have said that. There's no way he could've. Right?
