That was all Gold said. A moment later, I heard the sibilant hiss of the tube as Garner left us alone. A bead of sweat formed on my nape, rolled down my back under the close-fitting tunic I wore. Inside my black gloves, my hands were damp, slick with sweat. My heart raced. I hated to feel fear, especially fear of him. My eyes adjusted to the dim light just in time to see him coming out of the deepest shadows toward me, an elegant figure of gold and black. His beauty was almost surreal, cheekbones high and carved, his mouth sensual but with a cruel slant to it. Fitting, since he was one of the cruelest bastards I’d ever met. His hair fell loose around his shoulders, brushing the silk tunic his wore, the shimmering gold a stark contrast to the darkness of his clothes. His hair was a few shades paler than his skin, almost the same shade as his eyes—golden. Under those clothes, everything about him was golden.
