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“This isn’t funny,” Killian spat, his chest heaving. “She is a murderer!” he added, throwing his finger in her direction.
He thought he saw Elyse flinch. Good.
Manny turned toward him and stared at him for a few seconds, seeming to gather his thoughts. “She is a murderer, and I want to see her punished for it. I do,” he said with sincerity. “But I saw the aftermath at Prestowne, and I want justice for those people as well. If Elyse can offer any insight, then I’d like to hear it.”
Everything about this was wrong, so wrong. How could Manny stand to be in the same room as Elyse? Killian’s head was pounding, his muscles begging him to attack, attack, attack!
“How do we know she won’t lie to us? That she won’t lead us astray like she did with Royce?” He swallowed and added, “How do we know she didn’t cause the destruction at Prestowne herself?”
The words tasted foul coming out of his mouth. He knew somehow, deep down, that she was incapable of that kind of slaughter.
“We don’t know,” Manny answered. “I might not trust her, but I trust Sera.”
Killian didn’t reply. He bit his tongue as a myriad of insults came to mind.
“Sit,” Sera said to Elyse, taking Killian’s silence for acquiescence.
Elyse seemed careful to keep her eyes on anything but Killian. She slowly moved toward the empty chair between Killian and Manny and lowered herself into it, resting her shackled hands in her lap.
This close up, Killian could see how pale she was, her skin nearly translucent. Her cheekbones were more pronounced than he remembered, and dark circles lined her eyes. Her lips quivered almost imperceptibly—a hint at the turmoil within.
He wanted nothing more than to storm out of the room, to throw her “bargain” in her face. Yet something within him wouldn’t let him leave. His feet were heavy, his boots leaden. No matter how much he told himself Elyse was about to spew nothing but lies, some sick form of masochism kept him rooted in his chair. He told himself it was curiosity, but his dubious heart laughed at that.
Finally, he exhaled and crossed his arms. “This had better be good.”
Chapter 14
- Elyse -
It was nearly impossible for Elyse to stay calm as she sat beside Killian. For the last three days, she had thought of nothing else but the hateful looks he had given her and the loathsome words he’d spat at her.
That, and the endless corpses that had filled Prestowne.
As she sat at the table, she reminded herself that those innocent lives were the reason she was there. She had to be strong for them—had to get answers for them. Something strange and powerful was brewing in Rhodan, and she needed to stop it before any more lives were taken—even if it meant asking Killian for help.
Even if it meant her sacrificing her freedom.
She could feel Killian’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his stare. It had been difficult enough to hold his gaze when she had been standing across the room, but she had managed to keep her composure. Now, sitting this close to him, she could feel the disgust radiating off him, like a fire that burned too hot.
She lifted her eyes toward Sera instead, who gave her an encouraging nod. Thank the stars for Sera, whose faith in her remained unwavering, even when Elyse didn’t quite believe in herself. She let out an exhale and chanced a glance at Manny. His gaze was far from warm, but there was a glimmer of something there—perhaps curiosity.
She could do this. She could lay out her plan and convince them to help her. Surely they would see reason.
With one more exhale, Elyse finally mustered the courage to speak.
“I think the slaughter at Prestowne is somehow demonic,” she began, forcing her voice to sound confident.
Sera’s brows crinkled with concern, and Manny’s eyes widened.
“A demon?” Killian asked, his voice raw with skepticism.
“Yes,” Elyse said, trying to ignore his disdain. “The man at the church—I think he was a priest. There were symbols written in blood around his body.” She paused and shook her head as the unwelcome memory assaulted her. “I didn’t recognize them at first, but I think the symbols were in a demonic language.”
“You… read ‘demon’?” Manny asked slowly.
“No, but I’ve seen symbols like that before in spellbooks. Symbols for summoning demons, speaking to them, making sacrifices to them—”
Killian huffed, cutting her off. “So what? Prestowne was just…” He made a vague gesture with his hands. “One giant sacrifice?”
