Lila

She woke with a start, alone in the room, but then heard the click of the lock on the door and sat up quickly, pulling the blankets to her chest, though she was fully clothed. Her eyes darted around the room as she looked for any weapon or way to keep herself away from another person, but found nothing.

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Then Douglas Daniels peered around the door and, yet again, she was shocked by how the first sight of him made her heart leap because everything in her saw Dane for a split second. But as he smiled and stepped inside, she kept the blankets pulled to her chest and watched him like she would a snake.

He carried another bottle of water, which was good because she was very thirsty. But she didn't ask for it as he tugged that plastic chair in behind him from the day before and pulled it over until he was just a couple feet from the bed.

"How are you feeling this morning, Lila?" he asked with a smile.

"Fine."

"Good, good. Are you thirsty? Would you like a drink?"

She nodded and he held the bottle out, but she eyed his hand warily. He shook his head and put the bottle on the bed next to her, then sat back. She waited a moment before taking it, but he didn't move when she picked it up. And after a few tense seconds, she twisted the cap off and took several large swallows from it, never taking her eyes off of him.

He waited. It was creepy. He just sat there, staring at her.

"Why the photo last night if you aren't going to keep me tied up?" she asked suddenly. "Just to be cruel to Dane?" She wondered if he was one of those perverts who got off on seeing women bound up—maybe he'd taken it for himself? The thought made her shiver.

He stared at her a moment longer, then asked, "Did my son tell you what I do, Lila?"

She shrugged. "Yes."

"Can I ask what he called me?"

Sick. Psycho. Pervert. Madman. "I don't know what word he used, but he said you were… an assassin?"

Douglas Daniels let his head drop back as he laughed. "Oh, I'm certain that's not the word he used," he said good-naturedly. "But obviously you're aware of the circles I run in?"

She nodded.

"The killing really is the smallest part of my job," he said quietly, like it mattered that she know that. "Most of my job is much more interesting and fun than simply slaughtering people, I assure you." He paused, but when he didn't speak, he continued. "I'm the person who knows how to make people think—whether they want to or not."

He had an odd, formal way of speaking she hadn't expected. But his voice was so similar to Dane's she was tempted to just let her heavy eyes close and listen to him, try to pretend Dane was there, saying normal things. Like when she had her ear against his chest and he rumbled—

"I'm fascinated by people," Douglas continued, and Lila found she had to concentrate to focus on him. "By their minds, more specifically. Most of my work involves watching people, listening to them, understanding them, learning what will trigger their most… vital responses. Do you know what I mean?"

"I don't think so." The words were thick on her tongue. She was exhausted.

He smiled a small smile and tapped his temple. "It's all about how people think and what makes them tick. I won't get into the details now, they aren't important, but what it means in practical terms is that I study people and figure out how to make them agree with me. How to change their minds—or, failing that, how to mold their behavior so they'll act in the ways I wish them to. Because, you see, most people aren't very smart. As an intelligent woman, I'm sure you've already discovered that for yourself," he said with a smile that was meant to make her think he'd complimented her. But Lila frowned. Something was wrong. Why was her vision doubling?

"The thing I need you to understand, Lila, is that I know Dane very, very well. Better than you."

"I doubt that," she said.

"I don't," he said flatly. "I've had decades to study him. Plus, he's mine. He's a part of me. I have an inherent understanding of him that others simply cannot have, I'm afraid."

"You're wrong." Her tongue felt dry and she frowned. She took another sip of the water. It was nice and cold and might help her wake up.

"What makes you say that?" he asked quietly.

"You don't know Dane. You know who you wanted him to be," she said, and took a deep breath. Her tension was making it hard to get air. "The man you wanted him to be. Trained him to be. You don't know who he really is."

"And I suppose you know the man he really is?"

"Yes. He isn't the man you tried to make him. Not anymore. He's a new Dane."

He tipped his head to the side, examining her, thoughtful. "This new Dane… does he still lose his temper a lot, and try to control others around him?"

She frowned. "Yes, but a lot of people—"

"And does he still shut down emotionally when he's under extreme stress?"

Lila stared at him, knowing where he wanted her to go with this line of thought, but unwilling to let him take her there.

"Is he still hyper-vigilant and paranoid that I'm hidden around every corner, watching his every move, and determined to ruin his life?"

"Those things are how Dane responds to his life, not who he is."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

He smiled a cold smile and Lila's skin crawled. "Well, I don't want to start a family conflict, of course, but what I think you need to see is that who Dane is hasn't changed at all. He's simply doing what I trained him to do—which is to be very, very good at convincing others that he isn't just as fucked up as I am."