Ivy waved at Reese as the car eased away. She closed the door behind her, took two steps down the dark hallway toward the living room and then something hot and hard hit the side of her face. Pain flared white and immediate; the room swam for a second and a high, startled yelp tore out of her.
A heavy hand clamped over her mouth with enough force to muffle the sound, while a glint of steel flashed in the corner of her vision. The world narrowed into the press of palm against lips, the metallic smell of the blade.
The hand on her mouth tightened and a voice — low, amused and ugly — whispered right at her ear: "Be quiet or I will gut you right here and I will not be nice about it."
