"Yes," he admitted in answer to her question, then frowned faintly. He was trying to find her limits. She'd been scared before, but now she wasn't. Why did the moon scare her, but not the prospect of being sliced to ribbons by someone who was almost certainly certifiable?

He couldn't understand it. And that meant he was intrigued.

Spirit would have known that was both a good and a bad thing.

He pushed open another door. Beyond was an austere bedroom, just a double bed and a closet, lit by a bare bulb overhead. He locked the door with a practiced flick as it closed, then released her.

The scalpel flashed so fast it was almost invisible, slicing open her shirt from navel to right shoulder. A little blood welled up from a shallow cut. The scalpel was so sharp she hadn't even felt it until after.