Time stretched, the agony of his torture bearing down on both of them. This time, Ellin knew he wouldn’t make it.
“Stop,” she begged, daring to once again find Jackson’s gaze. The corners of his eyes tightened, his lip quirked, and then he let out a breath as he released his hold on Brendan to turn to her. She didn’t take her eyes off him as Brendan gasped, struggling for air in the background. Her sole focus was on Jackson, heart racing, skin prickling, her body warning her as he stepped closer. Run, it said. Run.
He crouched beside her, fingertips rolling over his thumbs, and cocked one brow. “You know the rules, Miss Walker. If you want to stop me from hurting Mr. Samuels, you’ll need to give me an answer in return.”
She swallowed against the thickness in her throat, new blood working free of her wounds. Her chest ached, fear and panic and unadulterated adrenaline.
Still, she managed to say, “Please, call me Ellin.”
He laughed. A short, shallow huff of air that said she’d surprised him, but it couldn’t have been true humor. She wouldn’t believe he cared whether she lived or died, only that she told him what he needed to know. “The girl, Miss Walker?”
In the distance, Brendan mumbled some half-formed words as he struggled to save her, but it was too late for that. It was too late for both of them.
“The girl,” Ellin answered through clenched teeth, “is going to rip you to pieces.”
His hand shot out and wrapped around the base of her throat. His thumb pressed into the skin just below her jaw, cutting off her pulse as he turned her head to face him. “This is the last time you’ll look into my eyes, Miss Walker.” He squeezed, jaw going tight as he watched her. “Have a care to appreciate that.” He flicked his wrist, and a muffled pop shuddered through her. A feeling of liquid, of darkness, rushed through her, no longer in control as her face smacked concrete. The man stood and walked away.
She might have seen him if her body hadn’t shut down, might have heard the ragged screams from Brendan, the last warnings before he was ripped from his chair.
But Ellin knew she wasn’t going to die. She knew because her prophet, their Brianna, had saved her.
Chapter Five
Brianna
“Brianna,” Logan said, squeezing her shoulders. “Brianna.” She shook herself, coming back to find him inches away, staring into her eyes. His gaze flicked back and forth, searching for signs of what was now gone. “What was that?”
She wet her lips. “Brendan,” she said, closing her eyes tight for one long moment. “He’s got Brendan.”
Logan drew back, not releasing his hold on her. “Wh—” He paused, one side of his face drawing up in confusion. “Brianna…”
She let out a quick breath, the horror of the vision giving way to the realization of what it meant. “He’s not dead, Logan. Brendan…” But she didn’t want to say, didn’t want to explain that he was so close, so near death. Gods, what had they done to him?
Hands shaking, she wiped her palms on the legs of her jeans.
“What can I do, Brianna?”
“I just…” She didn’t know, didn’t have the slightest idea what it meant, where Brendan was. Her head shook numbly. It was a message. The dark-haired man had wanted her to see it, wanted her to know that Brendan was alive. That they were killing him. “He was there. The man, the one from the warehouse.” She swallowed against a tight throat, sorting through the images. What was she supposed to do with it? Did he want her to find them? All he’d have to do was show her, let her see where. But he hadn’t, only flashed the scene of Brendan’s body, bloody and bruised as he was dragged through a building. Was he taunting her?
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not sure what to do.”
Logan’s grip loosened, sliding down her arms. “Is that…” He raised a hand to her face, gently brushing the hair back from her cheek. “It wasn’t a prophecy, was it?” He’d seen the difference, the flicker in her pupils replaced by something else. A vacant stare, if she had to guess.
“It’s him,” Brianna said, reeling from the terror of the vision, of feeling that man inside her mind. “He has some way of showing me things.”
This was beyond Logan’s realm, and he didn’t like not having an answer, a way to protect her. “We’ll find him, Brianna.” His free hand slid down to hers, squeezing a fraction too tight, and he tucked her stray hair behind an ear.
She saw Brendan’s face again, the mangled mess they’d left of his body, and she leaned into Logan’s palm to gather her courage. “You can’t.” His thumb brushed her cheek, urging her to look at him, and she said, “He’s too strong, Logan. And there’s something about him that’s just not right.”