From the Murder Museum

"The private elevator ride was silent. They descended, deep beneath the foundations of the museum, past the R&D labs, into a sub-basement that did not exist on any architectural plans.

The doors hissed open.

This was not a museum. It was a sterile, cold, part-bank-vault, part-operating-theater.

The walls were thick, reinforced concrete, lined with glowing, silver-inlaid Concord-grade containment wards.

In the center of the room, on its massive hydraulic platform, sat the Brazen Bull.

It was gleaming under a harsh, white work-light, its "routine cleaning" clearly finished.

It was not alone.

Chained to the heavy iron rings at the Bull's base was Jess Klinesmith.

She was no longer in her "bohemian" outfit. She was wearing a simple, white, hospital-like shift.

She was gagged, her eyes wide and screaming with a terror so profound it was paralyzing.

She was curled in a ball, whimpering, having been forced to stare at the instrument of her own impending "expenditure."

Hannah's frozen, terrified eyes—the only part of her that could move—darted to Jess.

Kreed, who had ridden down with them, saw the flicker of recognition. He smiled.

"Ah," he purred. "You do remember her. Good. A 'compromised asset,' as I said. But as you can see... not a wasted one.""