When Celeste came to, the nausea came back in a rush and she tried to slap her hand across her mouth to keep it inside only to find her hand shackled to the end of the bed in which she found herself. Great. Just great. Luckily, Rafe had taught her years ago how to pick a lock. They weren't even proper shackles but like something out of an ancient time. Also in her favor that it was only one arm that was locked to the bed. There was no light in the room, but she could hear other voices, soft like sleep talking or just the sound of their breath. She was not so good as to be able to number them, but she could tell that there were more in number than had been in the van. Another wave of nausea and her free hand went to her mouth.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#800080">"Heh, that little conk to the head made you a bit sick did it. Don't worry, it'll pass. By morning. Then it'll be training time." The male voice was practically soaked in alcohol and perverseness. "It'll just be me and you till morning." She could just hear the leer in his voice and repressed another shudder. </span><br/><br/>Celeste tried to put as much fear in her voice as she dared. "What's going on? I didn't do anything." For once she was grateful for looking as young as she did currently. It lent itself to the illusion pretty well.<br/><br/>"Just let me go, I won't tell anyone..."