A Glimmer of Hope (The Avalon Chronicles #1)(19)

“What is this place?” she asked Shane, as he took her into a cell and placed her on a chair.

He clicked his fingers, and the fog in Layla’s head and all the contented feelings vanished as if they had never been there. Every horrific memory rushed back into her head at once: the smell of blood, the death, the fact that she hadn’t fought back, and that others had died because these people had come for her. An overwhelming feeling of nausea crashed down onto her.

“It takes a few minutes,” Shane told her.

“She doesn’t look so special,” a woman with a Spanish accent said, entering the room.

Layla’s vision cleared and she managed to get a better image of the newcomer. She was Layla’s height, but curvier, and was wearing jeans, a deep red strappy top, and black boots. Her long, light brown hair was left loose and reached the bottom of her spine. She had several colorful tattoos over her bare arms. They seemed to be Asian in influence, and a large dragon curled around one arm, starting at her wrist and moving up to her shoulder. Layla might have thought it beautiful if it wasn’t on someone who was clearly working with a group of psychopaths.

“She doesn’t have to look special, Reyes,” Shane told her. “She just has to be who Elias needs.”

“Do you think he’d mind if I bled her a little?” Reyes asked. She watched Layla like a cat might watch a mouse it’s going to eat.

“Try it,” Layla snapped.

Reyes burst out laughing and walked over to Layla, bending down so close that only an inch separated their heads. “Try it.”

Layla’s head snapped forward with incredible speed, right on the bridge of Reyes’s nose. Reyes cried out and dropped to a seated position on the floor, holding her face in her hands and periodically looking at them to check for blood.

“I’m going to tear your hair out for that,” Reyes screamed, murderous intent in her eyes.

“Enough.” The voice boomed around the small room. A man had entered, taken one look at Reyes, and stepped between her and Layla. “Go.”

Reyes, her eyes cast to the floor, was led out of the room by Shane, who looked at Layla, clearly impressed.

“My name is Elias Wells, and you’re not here to injure my people.”

Layla choked down the fear she felt. “You murdered people I cared about.”

“Yes.” He said it as if that were just what needed to be done. There was no emotion in his voice; nothing to suggest the murders even bothered him.

“Why am I here?”

Elias picked up a chair and placed it in front of Layla. He removed his fedora and placed it on the table beside him, revealing short, almost military-style brown hair. “If you try to head-butt me, I’ll break both of your arms and allow them to set badly. You are not here to be a pain in my ass, you’re here because we need something from you.”

“You could have just asked.”

“No. We couldn’t. You see, you have a certain knowledge that we require, and just asking nicely wasn’t going to cut it. We had to show you the kind of people we are, and we were running out of time. Unfortunately, you were not at the property occupied by your ex-lover, Blake. We had to take you at work, and Dara asked me so nicely if she could do a full extradition, and I’d already said no so often that it felt unfair to deny her this one pleasure.”

“Blake is dead?”

Elias nodded and adjusted the cuff on his immaculate black suit. “Yes. You weren’t there. I needed information. He died giving it. He was not a good man. I also killed his current lover, Bianca. You’ll probably hear about it on the news tomorrow. That’s if we let you watch any TV. They’ll also say that one Robert Mitchell was having an affair with Bianca, which he was, and that he was so overcome with jealousy that he went there, murdered them both, and then killed himself. Sometimes you need to leave someone to take the fall or the police will never stop looking. This way it’s in the press for a few days, then over and done with, and I’m free to continue working without having to wonder if the police might turn up. I don’t like killing police; they care too much about finding the culprit when the victim is one of their own. Same reason I don’t kill children.”

After seeing the ogre in action, she thought there would be nothing that could frighten her more. She was wrong. Elias terrified her. His calmness when discussing murder was like her father all over again. “You’re insane.”

“Probably, although I don’t really have the backstory for a good crazy murderer. I had a pleasant upbringing. My parents died when I was only twenty-one, but that’s probably not enough to turn me into a killer. They were murdered in their own home by a crazed madman. The fact that I was said crazed madman doesn’t really factor into it, I don’t think.”

Layla just wanted Elias to shut up and get on with why she was there. “What do you want me to do?”

“It’s not a matter of want. It’s what you will do. You see, if you don’t, we’re going to kill ten people a day until you agree. No, make it twelve. One every two hours is a bit nicer. They’ll be random people, might be anyone, and I assure you not all of my comrades have the same dislike for killing police and children that I do.

“We’ll grab them, bring them here, and make you watch while they die. A never-ending conveyor belt of death and pain. That’s going to be your life for the next . . . well, however long it is until you agree to our demands. And to make things a little more interesting, we’re bringing those who managed to survive tonight’s attack here. They’re going to be our extra-special insurance. You mess about, and they die first.”