She went to hold her aching head in her hands but then realized she couldn't move. That was strange. It didn't make sense for a moment through her still-woozy consciousness.
The world around her became clearer with every passing moment.
She glared up at him. "You tied me up?"
Quinn shrugged and didn't look the least bit sorry. "Trust me, you got off easy."
Her hands were tied firmly behind her back. Her ankles were bound to the chair legs.
She pulled at the binding until her wrists hurt. "Untie me."
"Not just yet."
"I'm critically injured. I might have a concussion."
"I'm sure you do. He hit you really hard. Thank God you're blessed with an incredibly thick skull."
"Save the compliments and untie me."
"You need to call Lenny and tell him to let Barkley go."
She shook her head, more from confusion than denial, and it hurt like a son of a bitch. "Ow. Untie me and we'll talk about it."
"I'll hold the phone to your ear."
Janie eyed the room. "Where's Malcolm now? Is he going to come out here and taunt me with his glass of water?"
"He's gone."
"Where did he go?"
Quinn hesitated. "I don't know."
"You're a shitty liar."
"I'm a very good liar."
"Liar." She grimaced against the throbbing pain. A nap would be nice. Three or four days might do the trick.
"What's Lenny's number?"
Her eyes snapped back open. "You're serious."
He nodded.
"I'm not telling you."
"Then this is going to be a long wait. Just to remind you, I am immortal now. I will definitely win."
She strained against the bindings to no avail and looked around the room again—her level of anxiety growing with every passing second. "Where's the map?"
"Malcolm took it."
Her stomach dropped. "Hewhat ?"
"He took it with him."
"How could you let him do that?"
"Trust me, it wasn't an easy choice."
A thought occurred to her. "You stayed to take care of me?"
Quinn cocked his head to one side and studied her. "Malcolm wanted me to feed off you and then break your neck. He didn't specify the breaking of the neck, but it would have been my choice if I'd decided to take him up on his suggestion. Very quick death. You wouldn't have felt a thing."
A chill ran down her spine at his words. He could have killed her, and she wouldn't have been able to do anything to save herself. She hated feeling like a victim.
But he hadn't killed her.
She focused on her neck. Could she feel anything?
"Did you bite me?" she finally asked.
"No."
"You said I'm bleeding. Did you… oh, my God…" She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "Did you lick my head?"
He snorted. "Sweetheart, I have a million comebacks for that one, but since you've probably got a brain injury, I'm going to let it pass. No, I didn't. I held a cold cloth to it. That's all."
Why didn't he bite her? She was completely incapacitated, and he was a very hungry vampire. It was completely irrational, but she almost felt insulted.
Yeah. It was irrational.
Brain injury. Definitely.
Then she remembered what he'd said a minute ago. Way more important than any discussion of potential licking.
"Malcolm's gone to get the Eye, hasn't he?"
"That is his master plan."
"And you just let him go without trying to stop him."
"Did I press rewind on the TiVo? Yeah. And now you're going to call Lenny."
"The Eye," she said weakly.