A film expert and her brother are lured to a secluded mansion with the promise of receiving a rare print of a long-lost film. Waiting for them is a deadly secret that someone there will kill to protect.
Hannah stumbled into her room, slipped in the pool of Burns' blood that was still there just beyond the threshold, and went down.
Before heading out earlier, she'd managed to drag his corpse to the side of the room – mostly so it would be out of her way – but had done nothing about the blood. Now she was on the floor, covered in it, hers mixing with his.
She was fading fast.
Numbness draped her entire body like a blanket of impending oblivion, and she was so cold.
She could feel the other side of consciousness pulling her away, but she couldn't allow that. Not yet. Not until she got the word out.
Rather than trying to get up, she crawled on the floor, her body trailing a smear of blood across the floor with each passing foot. She could see it there, under the bed. The cell jammer. Continuing to crawl, she reached out a bloody hand. One inch closer. Two. Then...
Got it.
Her finger depressed the power button. Shutting it off.
She had to work quickly. If Kevin or his sister thought to try their own phones right now, they'd be able to call out too.
From a bloody pocket, she took out her own cell phone. She tried to work the buttons, but the blood on her hands made it difficult for the keypad to work. She found a dry spot on her pant leg and wiped the screen on it. Then she wiped her fingers and tried again. Finally, she was able to open up her contacts and click on the listing for Mason.
The call went through.
One ring. Two.
Come on. Answer. Don't...have much time.
On the third ring, a rich, deep, sensual voice said, "Hello?"
Hannah tried to talk, but found that the cut in her throat was making that difficult. She managed to eek out a few croaks, the taste of blood like copper syrup in her mouth.
"Hannah? Is that you."
"Ye...yes. Inn....injured. F....fatal. T...three rem...remaining. Rest t...terminated. Come n...now. No t...time. Love..."
"Hannah? Hannah?" the voice on the other end said.
His voice. Such a gorgeous, masculine, voice. The voice of a god.
She terminated the call and tossed the phone under her bed.
Fading fast. But there was still something left to do.
What was it?
Oh, yes!
The jammer. Have to... turn it back on.
She reached a weak, bloody hand under the bed. Found it, her fingers fumbling with the on switch. Too weak. Not enough strength to...
She heard a soft click and saw the red indicator light come on.
Done.
Pulling her arm from beneath the bed, she rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling.
She was going to go now.
But Mason will finish it, she knew. He would come. He would get his prize and build his empire. And though she would not be there, he'd know that he had her to thank for everything. He would have no choice but to love her back, even if she was only a memory.
The ceiling turned black.
As did the rest of the world.
And she was gone.
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