“I’d say it’s probably best not to know.”She was using the flashlight to feel her way around one of thestatues. Their progress was slow, but they were getting there, andso far she felt not a shred of hate, not for Albert orotherwise.

“Yeah, you’re right. The effects might besomewhat permanent.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Think about what we did back there. Justthink about it a little. Are you at all turned on by that?”

Brandy blushed heavily in the darkness. Shecould feel the heat in her neck and face. Even so cold that shecould not stop shivering, the feeling was awful. “No,” she saidquickly. “It was scary.”

The tone of her voice told Albert he wastreading on bad soil. “Oh. Okay. I could be wrong.”

The two of them made their way aroundanother large statue. They were weaving around the room, probablytaking the longest possible way through it. Shadows flowed in andout of the darkness, statues in odd poses, of various heights andwidths. Occasionally, a hand or a foot would materialize out of thegloom and then disappear again, and once, a face emerged, thecruel, laughing visage of a man that nearly made her scream. Thevery sight of that face made something stir deep in her belly,something that was not quite hatred, but something close.Resentment, perhaps, or indignity.

She pushed forward, trying to forget thedisturbing face, and continued on through the strange gallery ofhateful stone. It seemed to her that there were more statues inthis room than there were in the sex room.

“Yes.”

Albert almost opened his eyes, but was ableto stop himself. “What?”

“Yes it turns me on. Really bad. But itscares me.”

Albert squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Metoo.”

“Will we always feel like that?”

“Maybe. But if we’re lucky it’ll stopscaring us.”

“It’ll fade, too, right?”

“I’m sure it will. But whatever’s in thisroom. That’s a feeling we should never feel. Not even once. Sex canbe a good thing, but hate never is.”

“Do you write poems?”

“No. Why?”

“You should. You’re very poetic.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing. It’s romantic.”

“Even in a hate room?”

“Yes.”

Brandy felt past some stone limbs to asquare opening. “I think this is the door.”

“Good.”

She started to go forward, but Albert pulledher back.

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Don’t move. Keep your back to me, don’tlook back, but put your glasses on and look ahead. If you see anystatues, close your eyes right away and take your glasses backoff.”

“Why?”

“Something just feels wrong about this.”

Brandy took her glasses from her purse andslid them on, then gazed through the opening and into the nextroom. There were no more statues. The hate room was behind them.But what she saw made her blood run cold. “Oh god!”

She stepped back, shoving her body againsthim, and he opened his eyes. Had he looked left or right he wouldhave been face to face with the statues of the hate room, but heonly looked forward. He could not take his eyes off what lay beforethem.

Just beyond the door, the floor droppedabout ten feet into an open pit. Wicked spikes rose up from thebottom. It was a trap. Had he not stopped Brandy from going forwardwhen he did, she would have stepped over the ledge and at the verybest been speared through in a dozen places. He could not imagineher going in there and not puncturing something vital. Even if shesurvived the fall, it would only have been to suffer slowly untildeath caught up with her.

“Albert…”

“I know. It’s okay.”

This room of spikes was only about eightfeet across, round, with a narrow ledge circling the left side,allowing access around to the next door, which was shorter than theone entering the room, no more than four feet tall.

“How did you know?”

“Like I said before, why have another roomlike this when, if you got past the first one, you probably knewthe secret?”

“You just saved my life.”

“I nearly got you killed.”

She turned around and wrapped her armsaround him, squeezing him so hard it hurt, and then kissed himfirmly on the cheek. “Don’t you dare say that!”

Albert held her, his heart pounding. Anyother place, any other time, the feel of Brandy’s naked bodypressed against his would have made everything else in the worldseem like a distant and unreachable future. He could feel herbreasts against him, the subtle poke of her erect nipples, even thesoft tuft of her hair against his thigh, but he noticed none ofthese things. He hardly even registered the kiss. All that wouldoccupy his mind was the stone skewers rising up from the floor ofthat pit.

“Oh god!” cried Brandy. The words came outin a great wet sob.

“It’s all right,” he assured her, but hecould not stop staring at the spikes.

Chapter 15

“Let’s keep moving.”

Brandy had been holding onto him for severalminutes now, and she held him for a moment longer before moving.But she did begin moving, and Albert was impressed by hercourage. She was scared as hell down here and had every right tobe, but despite all that had happened, she just kept pushingon.

“Remember, don’t look back.”

She turned away and opened her eyes again.The sight of the spikes made her feel sick. The sex room was aterrible thing, an emotionally threatening trap, but this was justplain deadly. She could not help but imagine them piercing herskin, glancing off her bones, gouging her eyes, tearing her throat.The very thought made her nearly vomit with horror. How would shehave gone in? Forward? Sprawled across them, the bloody tipsprotruding from her back in a dozen places, through her hands andthighs and head? Or would her bones have stopped her from goingclear to the floor, leaving her hanging like a towel thrown over arack to dry? Or would she have gone straight down, the spikesramming through the arches of her bare feet, entering the meat ofher calf or thighs and sliding mercilessly up the bones? Would ithave killed her instantly, spearing her brain or her heart? Orwould she have hung there, twitching and gagging while blood gushedfrom her mouth, the pain unbearable but unending? The scenarioswould not end.

Had she taken just one more step…

Albert measured up the path around thespikes. The ledge was narrow, but it wouldn’t be a problem. It wasdesigned to trip up someone stepping out of there in the dark. Forsomeone who knew what they were doing, it was simply a matter ofwalking around it.

Brandy stepped out of the hate room, herthoughts still lingering on the death she’d narrowly avoided. Withher back to the wall, taking no more chances than necessary withthe deadly pit, she began to move around the narrow ledge, circlingthe left side of the room to the doorway on the other side, whichwas actually a short tunnel, about three feet long.

The next room was about twice as large asthe pit room with an identical doorway on the other side and a tallceiling. It was completely empty. Brandy looked at Albert andnoticed the expression on his face, that same concerned look thatsaid something was not right. Looking at the room, she understoodwhy. Before now the only places without something in it, be itstatues or a pit of spikes or a pool of water, were the corridorsthat led from one room to the next. So why leave this roomempty?

“Another trap?”

Albert shook his head. “I don’t know.” Helooked around the room, searching for something different, somestone out of place or unusual holes or slots, but that did not seemright either. The traps Indiana Jones faced in the Temple of Doomwere extravagant, consisting of stone mechanics dating thousands ofyears in the past. He honestly did not expect to have arrows flyout at him or the walls to begin moving, but what else could aseemingly empty room contain? He steeled himself and steppedforward.