I did a lot more than kick myself. The whole time I mentally assailed myself, those stupid little voices in my head griping and making sarcastic remarks about my IQ. I have to say, it did wonders for my mood.

All of this summed up to one important mental note: steer away from riding in a car alone with Dimitri at all costs. I thought it had been hard to resist his cologne and presence back in the offices. Cramped in a tiny car with no air space or separation to speak of? It was unbearable. I felt like Eve with the forbidden fruit dangling right in front of me. Luckily, I scraped enough control to power through and not dive into my primal instincts. The voices that weren't chastising me for getting stuck in this situation were cheering me on to rip his shirt off.

I already knew how that story ended.

The prison was only 15 minutes away, and as I got out of the car, I sucked in grateful, clean air that didn't make me heady. Small blessings. I looked up at the imposing, gray building, sharp against the dreary autumn sky. It was a prison, all right. It looked like the type of building that needed gargoyles sprinkled along the barbed wire for emphasis.

Steeling myself with more resolve than I felt, I pretended not to be affected by Dimitri or the looming encounter with Victor. I'd play this game one hand at a time. Checking sexually-ramped car ride off the list, I made my way in with my two partners, going through the usual motions of security and confirming we weren't here to start a prison break.

We were directed into a plain, cafeteria-like room that screamed jumpsuit friendly. The tables and adjoined benches gleamed silver, the tiny ocean sprawled out in front of me almost dizzying. Mason made half-hearted attempts to improve my spirits, and I smiled in response, though it helped little. Dimitri said nothing. The air clung with ominous, as if my apprehension had soaked into the room. It wasn't exactly a chit-chat atmosphere. Even my usual Rose quips died short.

Then, I heard the scuffling of feet and chains, the click of the door fraying all of our nerves and kicking defensive instinct into play. Three men, one dragged down by the linked restraints, the other two prison guards, entered.

My heart rammed against my ribcage as if it was the prisoner.

That same wave of fear, hate, and disgust that washed over me whenever it came to Victor Dashkov slammed into me like a cement truck when I saw him again. I could feel my muscles tighten, my body rigid and screaming to pounce. It was a typical reaction to a serial killer, even one chained and guarded. With him? I was two seconds away from lunging. He was lucky those guards were around- to keep him safe from me. And yet, at the same time, fear rooted me to the concrete. I hated this man with every fiber in my being, but terror still made me freeze, a habit as annoying as it was hard to shake.

I had slight satisfaction that jail had done a number on him though. Oh, he was still lethal by any standards of course, but cell time had aged him. He'd always been tall and thin, but now his strength had waned, his cheeks gaunt as he withered away in prison. His pale, jade eyes- ones that reminded me of Lissa's, creepily enough- were hazy and unfocused. Jail might have taken a chunk out of his life span, but it seemed to ramp up the crazy. Genius and crazy kind of went hand-in-hand though, which was far from comforting.

When our gazes locked, he smiled knowingly, the gesture making my spine quiver, a shiver running up its length. His eyes had refocused in a flash, back to scheming-villain mode. It didn't damper his refinement in the least. His bravado could have brought royal families to shame. "Rosemarie, how lovely to see you," he said, his voice laced with grand fever as he walked down the gray aisle. "And to what do I owe the pleasure? I haven't seen you since the trial. A shame, really, that we had to meet again under such circumstances."

If his demeanor was warm, mine was the polar opposite, the ill-humored uplift of my lips icy as I shook my head and moved around the opposite way. "Get him in the chair," I ordered, playing business. The guards pushed him down by his shoulders onto the bench of the table. I sat on the edge of the table facing him and pulled up a knee, waiting him out.

Victor tilted his head ever so slightly, studying me. "You haven't changed, Rose. I'm glad. How are you? Still barely in control, clearly, but too valuable to dispose of. It would be a waste, harsh temper aside; if you were kicked out, I wouldn't get to see you." He paused, still looking at me like a lab experiment. "You're the only one that has that scent, you know, of lavender and fear. It's intoxicating, really." Christ, what was he, a bloodhound?

Off to the side, Dimitri and Mason were focused on us, but I didn't bother dealing with them. I held his gaze unflinchingly, not about to drive home the "fear" comment. "I see you still like making small chat. I'm surprised you didn't bring up the weather. Then again that really doesn't apply to you in here, does it?" His smile twitched. Good. At least I was getting to him. "I'm not here to talk about my control issues or my perfume. See one, Do one, Teach one: that's what they taught you in medical school. Who did you teach, Dashkov?"

We might as well have been discussing politics over tea. "It's charming that you came here, and looking for information at that." He leaned back. "I dropped out of school, Rosemarie."

I scoffed. "No, you were kicked out." I rested my hands in front of me, my tone probably able to turn rain to ice. "For fondling a corpse."

That got to him. Victor watched me, brooding, his smile completely faded now. I could almost see the web of mastermind plans churning in his head, hazy green eyes weighing me heavily. He licked his lips and glanced down at his forearms on the table. A small chuckle escaped, but its usual amusement was clouded by baleful annoyance. "That's very good, Rose." He looked up. "You've finally learned how to irritate me."

I didn't respond. After a moment, his eyes traveled down, settling on my hands. His expression shifted. He was still calculating, but was clearly pulled by something else. Something about his interest suddenly made me feel vulnerable, exposed, as if he was looking right through me. I tightened my hold on my hands. They'd started aching the minute I laid eyes on him, and now deju vu was sucking me back into the past, reliving that pain.

Of course, he noticed instantly. "Do your hands hurt, Rose?" he inquired, his prying voice also leaving me feeling battered and raw.

I tried, and failed, not to glower. "No," I said tightly. "It's like it never happened."

Either he chose to ignore me or he was still caught up in his physco obsession as remembrance ceased him, too. Probably both. "Hands are so useful," he mused slowly to himself. "Yours especially. I haven't seen them in such a long a time- I want to again." He smiled back up at me, but this one held intent avidity, taunting edge remaining. "Do they still work?"

Mason's jaw clenched as he moved around in the background, attention flickering from him to me. We exchanged a look. By the slow shake of his head and hard edge in his eyes, it was clear he didn't want me playing along with Victor's whims. Dimitri, choosing not to hover like my partner, stood the side, taking all of it in. Of course he wouldn't fully understand the dangerous path this was heading. Mason and I did though.

And despite Mason's clear disapproval, I took the plunge.

Shoving my repulsion aside, I stood up and lifted my hands into the air. Walking forward, I twisted them from my palms to the back so he could see both sides. Yeah. Dimitri had to be lost by now. Victor, however, stared at them in wonder, like he was seeing sunlight for the first time in days. I sat down on the opposite bench, still holding them up. X-shaped scars marred the smoothness of the skin in the middle on both fronts, the marks light against my natural tan. "Good as new, no thanks to you," I answered.

He dragged his gaze back to my face as I tucked my hands under my arms, orbs sparkling with keen interest now. "Don't tell me you still bear a grudge against me for that, Rose. You must of realized like I did that proper restraint was necessary, especially for you."

I ground my teeth, but forced myself to stay in control. "Right. Because pinning a guest to the floor with scalpels is the first thing that comes to my mind, too."

He chuckled, his smile widening. "Witty. Always witty, Rose. It made for great entertainment. Still does."

I changed topics, not letting him go so easily. "So. Your turn. You trained someone, didn't you? I want a name."

It was obvious though he had no intentions of letting me go easily. His gaze lingered on my throat, murmuring, "I love your neck. It's so beautiful... slender." I could almost feel his scalpel pressing against my throat again as he spoke. My gaze hardened as his turned wistful. "Just like I remember... if only I could have painted it red."

Apparently, that was Mason's breaking point.

His hand roughly grabbed his shoulder from the side, nails biting into the base of his throat while his blue eyes turned molten under Victor's gaze. "Answer the question," he berated lowly, the two locked in a stare down. I didn't look to see Dimitri's reaction to his words. I didn't have to. Even if he was shocked by the outgoings of all of this, he wouldn't let himself show it.

After several moments, Mason was the one to pull back. He was Victor's focus as the latter's smile grew. "Well, now, tell me, Rose," he admonished, going back to me, "what would you like to do to me?"

Oh, that was a loaded question. I leaned forward over my arms, crossing my ankles. "You want to know what I want to do?" My voice was subdued as I inhaled and said, "I'd like to get my gun. Put it to your temple. And pull the trigger."

Victor straightened, chuckling, "No, no, no, no, no," he waved his hands, chain links clinking against the table, answering calmly like he was addressing a child. "It is so much better if you take your time. You have to savor it. To mindlessly kill is a waste. You see, all my life I've been meticulous about finishing what I started. And that bothers me, because I haven't finished what I started with you."

"Trust me, you won't get that chance, you son of a bitch," I growled.

"Mmm," he regarded, staring at my neck. "Do you dream about me, Rose?" I rolled my tongue under my teeth, biting back a sharp retort as he continued, "Because I dream about you."

"I don't even think about you, but I'll visit every damn day if you tell me who your friend is. Who killed Dr. Colbe, and where's his wife?"

Again, he took his time, weighing me and the situation at hand. He'd accomplished luring me in, but he wasn't the CEO of criminal masterminds for nothing. His patience didn't have an expiration date, he'd waited two years for this, after all, and I knew he preferred taking his time in his twisted games. Why spoil it so soon? Victor glimpsed up at the clock on the far wall, resigned with our meeting. "It seems my time here's up." He stood, the guards on him in a flash. Grabbing him by the arms, they began to lead him away, Victor following nonchalantly as if going back to his comfy bland cell was a sound choice.

My fingers clenched. I couldn't let him leave that easily after everything he put me through. I'd gotten no answers. My earlier line to Mia rang through my thoughts: I won't let him play this same game with me again. I was the one in control, not him. Time to prove it, Rose. I raised my head and, staring forward, called one of the only things I knew would make him stop. "I do dream about you."

Dimitri and Mason froze. The footsteps stopped. I could practically see that lithe smile on his lips. I'd jumped into his grasps again, risking heavily on him telling me something- anything- and he knew it. "Well now, that wasn't so hard to admit, was it?" He seemed determined to toy with me as much as possible, testing my reactions like how someone tested a pool's water. He angled back towards me. "Tell me, am I ever your lover?"

Mason snapped as soon as the words were out, his heated voice filling the room as he stormed forward. "That's enough you son of a bitch!"

I caught his arm as soon as he tried to pass me, forcing him back. "Stop," I ordered sharply, my voice quiet but final. Victor wasn't worth it. Mason's features were hell-bent but he obediently stepped back, furious eyes on the older man. A glance at Dimitri showed an equally storm-like fire kindling in his eyes. Good God. Victor had no idea how lucky he was our guns were still in holding. His light laugh filled the air though, obviously entertained by his own game.

The guards began to escort him out again when he paused again and said, "I suppose I should play fair, Rose." I glimpsed over my shoulder distrustfully. "My friend is out there. Enjoy him while you can." His amusement came through clear as day. "….Because he'll enjoy you."

He finally let the guards drag him away. And like that, my manifested nightmare was gone.

Letting go of Mason's arm, I stood up and looked ahead again. Fantastic. I ran a hand through my hair, aggravated. "Nothing. We got nothing out of him except his damned copycat is running around. That and I need new perfume. I just got a new bottle, too."

The somber mood killed off any laugh that might have earned me. It didn't even earn me a smile, Mason already picking up what I was attempting. "Rose," he said quietly, knowing my habit of covering unease with jokes, his tone tipping toward warning.

I looked at him, my blasé mask cracking slightly, anguish flashing in my eyes. Just then, an underlying understanding passed between us. If anyone were to understand me at the moment, it was Mason. It was natural to build a strong bond with your partner in our line of work. You had to trust that person with your life after all. Even if he hadn't seen me in the aftermath of that day, he knew me when I was at my weakest; I didn't have to pretend to be strong now.

Swallowing, I glanced away again. "I'm fine," I answered, recognizing his unspoken question.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated, catching me off guard. Picking it up, I said, "Hathaway."

"Rose, you're going to want to see this," Lissa said solemnly. My stomach sank. I wasn't going to like what she was about to say. "A hiker just found Gabe's body on the outskirts of a the woods. They're guessing about fifteen hours since the time of death, but I'll determine more when I get there." Well, lovely. Gabe was dead. This day was getting better and better by the minute. She followed up with approximate directions that I don't think a military GPS could properly find.

"Alright, I'll be right there." I hung up and, addressing the two males, said, "They just found Gabe's body, we're heading out. Mase, you sign us out, I'll pull up the car."

He nodded. With professional efficiency, I strode away, winding my way back toward the exit. Unsurprisingly, another set of footsteps trailed after me. After ignoring him for a steady minute, he pulled my arm (still sending that stupid electric current through me) and turned me around, pausing in a blank corridor. I knew this was coming. "If you've got something to say, say it, comrade," I demanded. Urgency and impatience radiated off me. I didn't want to have this talk, not now. Not with him.

Dimitri regarded me before stating, "You were attacked by Dashkov."

"Wow, nice work detective, you were able to piece that much together? I'm impressed."

He cut me a sharp look. "Rose, this is serious. Tell me what happened, everything."

I could feel the knot of anger diminishing in my chest at his earnest concern, but unease still tugged at me at the topic of this conversation. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Rose," he warned, his voice lowering and more gentle. "Please."

I glanced away. Damn it. Why did he have to do that to me? He might as well have puppies staring at me with big eyes, begging me to tell. "Why don't you just read the report? I'm sure you can figure it out from what's in there."

"I want to hear it from you."

Typical Dimitri response. A few moments of hesitation passed before I bit my lip. No matter how upset I was at him, I knew he deserved to know- I just wasn't sure if I was telling him as my boss or former companion. I sighed. How had my love life change from nonexistent into a daytime soap opera? "It was one of my first cases in my new unit," I began diplomatically. "I'd worked with Mia before on smaller work, but nothing compared to this. She was pulled away to check on another lead, so I searched one of the suspected homes on my own. You know me, always ready to laugh in the face of danger. I thought, well, I could handle anything fate threw at me.

"I found a hidden door and a staircase that lead into the basement. Leigh, the missing wife we were searching for, was there, bound but still breathing. I almost collapsed with relief. I hurried to reach her, but was careless. Victor snuck up behind me as soon as I'd taken two steps and knocked me out. I was barely conscious when he put the scalpels through my hands, pinning me to the floor." I took a breath, eyes still tilted away from him.

"My body didn't register then that he was slicing my throat. I didn't think 'he's going to kill me like the other girls'. But he almost succeeded in doing just that. Next thing I knew though, I heard a gunshot. It didn't hit Victor, but it did get him away from me. Mia's face was the last thing I saw before everything turned black again. Two days later I woke up with Victor in jail, me in the hospital, and permanent scars on my hands. It was one of the only things that convinced me that that nightmare was real. That's silly though, huh? That I would need evidence to make sure it wasn't a dream."

I finally let my gaze shift back to Dimitri as soon as I'd wrapped my monologue up. I'd accepted all of this a long time ago, and knew it showed. "I meant what I said in there. I'm okay. Creeped out as hell, yeah, but for the circumstances? I'm fine."

We lapsed into silence, Dimitri absorbing everything I'd just said. The look on his face was indecipherable, a puzzle I'd never figure out, kind of like the Rubik's cube Lissa got me for my 7th birthday. I'd thrown it against the wall and broken it in frustration, declaring that was as good as it was going to get. Somehow I didn't think that was an option here. Finally, he asked, "Why did you take this case?"

It caught me off guard for a moment. With our normal synchrony it felt weird for him to ask my motive. "Because... I can't just stand by and do nothing. I mean, Lissa and Mia and all of them didn't want me signing up, but it would drive me crazier not jumping in to save the day."

He appeared to be leaning on Lissa and Mia's side. "Even though you know you're the one he's after?"

"Like I said, I'm always ready to laugh in the face of danger. And I think this is as dangerous as it gets."

Dimitri observed me for a second with considerate dark eyes more before glancing back down the hallway, as if suddenly really interested in firing up the car. Quietly, as if I wasn't supposed to hear, he said, "I hope this is as dangerous as it gets."

I love cliffhangers haha. Is it weird that I like getting the villain in on the story? At least you all finally get your answer as to what Victor did to Rose. You would not believe how difficult it is to mix proper-royal Victor with serial-killer-after-Rose Victor. Hopefully it turned out okay. The fun isn't over yet; he still has an ace up his sleeve in this card game. Reviews always make me dance idiotically3