Strange Beasts

by Susan J. Morris

Sam unlocked their hotel room, eager to change into something a little less institutional, and swung open the door⁠—only to slam it shut again. “Hel!” Sam whispered urgently. Inside had been a woman tied to a chair. A woman with scandalously short dark hair and one of Hel’s crimson ties for a gag. Her sultry brown eyes had been molten. “Why is Mlle St. Laurent tied up in our hotel room?” “I told you we wouldn’t have any trouble finding her.” “You just left her there?” Sam said incredulously. “While you went about the whole business of rescuing me?” “I may have been slightly upset with her at the time,” Hel allowed. For what happened to Sam, she realized. It was almost sweet, except for the part where it was still absurd. “You can’t just tie people up in your hotel room and leave them there!” Sam said. Even if they were murderers. “If I hadn’t tied her up, she might be halfway to Spain by now,” Hel said. “I needed her to stay put while I broke you out of the asylum.” “Someone could have come in and seen her!” “But they didn’t,” Hel said, opening the door.