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The moment Manny spoke, something snapped in Elyse. She leapt to her feet, snarling as she pointed her finger in Manny’s face. He didn’t back down, his expression challenging her, and they stood together, indignation rolling off them.
But before Elyse could even speak, tears streamed from her eyes.
“I had to!” she half screamed, half sobbed. “I couldn’t just sit here and wait. I can’t… I—” Her voice cut off suddenly as she hung her head.
All Manny could do was stare at her with furrowed brows. Killian had never seen Elyse so shaken—not even when he arrested her. Then, she’d at least been calm enough to formulate a plan, but now she seemed… destroyed. Her shoulders shook as she gasped for air—from both adrenaline and the quiet sobs that afflicted her.
Killian wanted to reach out and place a hand on her shoulder, but he knew better than that. She was already showing far too much vulnerability. Accepting someone else’s comfort in front of others would be downright humiliating for her.
Evidently, Jaime didn’t know that. He stepped toward her, his hand outstretched, and she batted it away with a growl.
“Don’t,” she barked. “I don’t need pity—not from any of you. I need to stop Lazarus.”
Her words dissipated into the night, leaving behind a chaotic tension. Lazarus? Who was Lazarus? Killian looked to Sera for answers, but she was busy avoiding anyone’s gaze.
Elyse seemed to realize she’d said too much. She wrapped her arms around herself as tears continued to fall, her body trembling.
“Elyse,” Killian said carefully, trying his best to sound encouraging. “Please, tell us whatever is troubling you.”
All eyes were on her. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a small rasp escaped. She looked at Sera, pleading with her eyes for help.
Sera stepped toward her, removing her jacket from her waist. She laid the jacket on Elyse’s shoulders, covering her exposed skin where the shirt was torn.
“It’s time to tell them,” she murmured.
Elyse looked up at Sera with watery eyes, holding her gaze for a long moment before nodding. Sera wrapped an arm around Elyse and guided her toward the campfire.
Everyone sidled after them, except Zubir, who disappeared back into his house. Killian’s heart was still pounding from their fight with the walker. Now, it was coupled with anticipation and anxiety as he waited for Elyse’s explanation.
Slowly, they settled themselves around the campfire as Zubir returned, carrying a jug.
“Palusan rum,” he explained, lifting the jug. “I thought it might be needed.”
He was surprisingly quiet, for which Killian was grateful. He wasn’t sure how Elyse would react to his chatter at this moment.
Zubir extended the jug to Elyse. She accepted it with a trembling hand and took a hearty swig. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she passed the jug to Sera.
The jug made its way around the circle. They were all silent, taking their turn at the rum as the fire crackled before them. When it came to Killian, he took a long, deep pull. The rum was acrid and bitter, but it helped settle some of his lingering agitation.
Finally, Elyse knitted her hands in her lap, staring at them as she began.
“My whole life, I have been indebted to a demon named Lazarus.”
Killian stared across the fire at her. Indebted? What did that even mean?
A silent tear fell to her lap. “That’s why I’m so powerful—why I don’t need a crystal to do magic. I was born with these powers, but at a cost.”
She exhaled slowly and wiped another tear from her cheek. Killian ached to sit beside her—to hold her hand—but her body told him this was something she needed to confess, and she needed to do it alone.
“Every month, on the night of the full moon, Lazarus gave my mother and me a task to complete. Usually it was something simple, like sacrificing an animal or burning bones. But after my mother passed, the tasks became more difficult.”
Killian was holding his breath. A chill breathed down his neck. He knew where this was going. Part of him wanted to run away, to never hear this story that he knew ended so badly, but he was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by a morbid curiosity.
“Lazarus started demanding that I kill people. At first, they were lowlifes. Rapists and such, people who no one would miss. But then… But then he ordered me to kill a girl. She was fifteen, and so innocent. She had the sweetest smile and the brightest eyes.”
Killian’s gut twisted. Gods above, a fifteen-year-old girl? Surely, Elyse would never.
A sob tore through her body. Her next words were nearly incomprehensible as grief overtook her. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill her. My mother had always told me that I had to follow Lazarus’s orders—no matter what. I think once she disobeyed him. She disappeared for a few days, and when she came back, she was different. After that, she made me promise to do whatever Lazarus asked of me.
