Liz had escaped a half hour ago, and upon hearing the news Elias had been genuinely shocked. The fact that, during the years of the prison being active, she was the only one of four escapees to have lived long enough to reach the forest surprised him even more. He’d always taken her as the sort of person for whom the idea of running came a distant second to the idea of sitting. He guessed that adrenaline and the need to be free drove people to perform better than they’d ever be able to otherwise. He made a mental note of it; it was something to try on the rest of the subjects. Maybe they’d get better results.
A scream from up ahead signified that Liz wasn’t as far away as she’d probably like to be. Elias didn’t need to concern himself with anyone hearing it who wasn’t meant to. Civilians were not an issue in the middle of nowhere. The only things likely to hear the screams and pleas for help would be the animals who lived in the forest, and he doubted that Liz was able to call the animals to her aid like Sleeping Beauty.
As he got closer to the noise of fighting, he heard the laughter of the creatures that served in the prison and the cursing from Liz. Elias began to wonder if there was a way to take her back without damaging her. He shook his head as he pushed aside a branch, letting it fly back to its position after getting past it.
Liz stood in a clearing, blood seeping down her left arm where an arrow had struck it. A second arrow protruded from just above her left ankle. She couldn’t put weight on it.
“Hello, Liz,” Elias said, his tone conversational and light. His English accent was still evident, even after all these years away. “Feel like coming back to the compound with me?”
“Go to hell,” she snapped.
Elias glanced over at the three creatures that had accompanied him on the hunt. They were all baying for blood but would do nothing until he commanded it. “Go deal with the other corpses,” he told them.
They did as they were ordered without comment and were soon lost from view in the darkness of the forest.
“I would rather you live,” Elias said. “But if you’re going to fight me, you might as well get it started now.”
A spine, three inches in length, flew toward Elias, who easily avoided it. The next four were even faster as they left Liz’s palms, and Elias had to catch one midflight to stop it in time.
“Nicely done,” he commended. “Your bone mass must regenerate at an extraordinary speed.” He turned the bone spines over in his hands.
“I was taught by the best,” Liz said.
“Sarcasm, my dear? We’ve been trying to teach you to accept your new abilities.”
“Abilities I never wanted! I just want to go home.”
“To where, that park bench we found you on? We’ve given you shelter, food, and warmth. We haven’t beaten you or tortured you. I think personally that we’ve been quite pleasant.”
“You forced this onto me. You murder those who can’t cope.”
“Well, sometimes things don’t go according to plan, but you have exceeded my expectations.” He wagged his finger at her and smiled. “No one has ever made it this far. But what were you going to do next?”
Liz looked behind her at the cliff.
“You were going to jump? That’s a two-hundred-foot fall into water. I’m pretty sure that even if the water was deep enough, you’d still die.”
“I’d rather die than be one of your pawns.”
“Fine, I’ll tell you what. You try to kill me and manage it, you can enjoy your brief life as a cliff diver. You don’t kill me? You’ll be dead. Either way, you win.”
Liz fired a half dozen spines at Elias, who moved smoothly as he dodged them, sliding under the last one and drawing out a nine-inch stiletto dagger, then plunging it up and into Liz’s stomach. He twisted it and pulled the knife out, pushing Liz onto the ground. He watched her writhe for a few moments as soft cries escaped her lips. He felt nothing except relief that the job was completed. Her pain would last longer than he liked. A quick kill was important. Professional. Kills should only last a long time if you needed something from the person, and he needed Liz to suffer a little—she had escaped, after all. He’d end it soon, and then she’d be at peace.
Elias held the stiletto up to the light of the moon. A stunning piece of craftsmanship: a black handle, with silver pommel and matching cross guard. The blade itself had a percentage of silver in it and had been polished to a high sheen. As he turned the dagger over in his grasp, a drop of blood fell from the tip onto the snow below.
He looked at Liz; her already-pale face appeared ashen. She didn’t have long left. The silver in the blade had made sure of it. Even so, he needed to ensure that the fight to survive was extinguished. “I realize if we take you back, you’ll either escape again or kill someone. So you do get your wish.”
“You should not play with your prey,” a male said from behind Elias.
Elias turned to the newcomer and dropped to one knee, bowing his head. “My lord, Nergal.”
Nergal was a head taller than Elias’s own five-nine, with broader shoulders and dark skin. A smooth bald head and deep-brown eyes that looked almost black gave him the appearance of someone who was not to be crossed. Several thousand years earlier Nergal had been considered a god by the Mesopotamian people, and it was easy to see why—just being near him made people nervous. To Elias’s knowledge, there were few people who possessed Nergal’s level of power; it practically came off him in waves.
“Get up. It’s cold and wet, and you’ve already gotten yourself filthy fighting this one.” Nergal walked over to Liz and bent down, slapping her across the face to get her attention. “She’s almost done. End it. We need to talk.”
Elias wanted to tell him that was exactly what he’d intended to do, but there was no point in angering the man. Instead, he nodded and used his foot to push Liz over onto her front. He placed a knee on her back and pressed the tip of the dagger up against her throat. He pushed it in without comment, removed it, and stepped off her to avoid the arterial spray.
He removed the black trilby from his head and dropped it into Liz’s blood, wiping the knife on his expensive suit trousers before replacing it in the sheath at his back.
“Are you quite done?” his lord asked.
“I did not know you were coming,” Elias said, turning around. “We had some issues with escapees. First in a few years. She was good, too. Shame about how it ended up. Not to change the subject, but I’ll have to recharge soon.”
“Well, that will have to wait. We found her, Elias. I need you to go to England. To Southampton. I’ll have all of the details emailed to you.”
Elias didn’t want to question his lord, but he’d been here before. “Are we sure she’s there?” He made sure to say “we,” too.
Nergal smiled. “We’ve been searching for so long, Elias. Yes, I’m sure she’s there.”
Elias picked up his hat from the ground; it had absorbed all of the blood that had once been inside Liz. Despite the amount of liquid it had taken, it was completely dry. To all outward appearances, the hat remained black and nothing had changed. In the few minutes since he’d killed her, Liz’s corpse had turned into a mummified husk.
Elias placed the hat on his head, and a slight trickle of blood slid down his pale skin. He caught it with a finger, leaving a smear, and licked the digit clean.
“Picked it up too early,” Elias said by way of explanation. “You want me to go now?”
“Yes, Elias. Take whoever you need. Just find the woman and bring her back here. Alive. And do it quickly.”