“I don’t think he can.” Jester kept his voice low. She looked so broken, so fragile. If only he could get her to see... But her eyes suddenly hardened and she pulled her hand away from his.
Jester knew it was hopeless. “Fine. You won’t listen to me. I never listened to you, so that’s fair. But you can’t help them, Flo. Look what they’re doing.”
“Taking back what’s theirs. That’s all.”
“If you believe that...”
“I love him.”
“You’re wrong. I’m not going to fight you over this. I’m not going to make it easy.”
“It isn’t.”
“There’s a reason they’re doing this. You know there is. What if we both refuse?”
“Then Lucifer will kill us both without a thought.” Florence took a step around the table; a step closer to Jester. He took a deep breath.
“Then you do what you have to do.”
“OH, COME ON. I thought you liked this sort of thing!” Rimmon was grinning at Mallory, while Toby whimpered in his chair. There was a small puddle of blood around his feet, which was steadily growing. “Maybe,” Rimmon said with a laugh, “maybe it’s just that you don’t like to watch. You want to be involved... a little more hands-on. Is that it?” He had his back to Mallory, who was on the floor, his back against the wall and his face turned away from what was happening. Rimmon’s attack on Toby was remorseless, pitiless and merciless. He cut and he slashed and he hacked and he twisted... over and over again. And when he was bored with that, on went the hood and out came the bucket.
Three times, he had come and gone – and each time he had left, it was harder and harder to reach Toby. Mallory had tried. But the second time, the words that came back to him from the far end of the cell were slurred; the pauses between them longer than they should have been. The third... there was barely anything more than a moan. Rimmon had almost broken him, and he knew it.
“You see, Mallory, you did me a favour. Purson left a gap in the chain of command when he died. And it turns out that torture’s one of my talents.”
There was another wail from Toby and Rimmon chuckled.
“Let him go,” Mallory said.
“I’m sorry?”
“Let him go.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because it’s not him you want. It’s me. You have me. Let him go.”
“Oh, no.” Rimmon turned away from the chair and towards Mallory, wiping his hands on a cloth he’d pulled from his pocket. It was stained unpleasantly red. “And you know why? Because it’s killing you to watch, isn’t it? Tell me: how does it feel to be helpless?” He dropped into a crouch in front of him, hands resting on his knees. “So you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to keep you here, like a pet. You’ll stay here, chained to this floor, and every day, I’ll bring you a new friend, and every day, you will watch them die, slowly, painfully, begging for you to save them. And every day, I will ask you again.”
“Ask me what?”
“To join us.” Rimmon stood up and stretched. “And sooner or later, you will say yes.”
“I won’t.”
“Then you’re going to have to get used to this...” Suddenly, Rimmon had a jagged metal spike in his hand, and almost gracefully, he rammed it deep into Toby’s thigh. Toby screamed, and Rimmon smiled. “You could save him: all you have to do is say yes. How much blood are you willing to have on your hands, Mallory?”
“As much as it takes.”
For the first time, Rimmon frowned. “Make your peace with this one,” he said, ruffling Toby’s hair. “I don’t think he’s going to last much longer.” He patted Toby’s cheek, and winked at Mallory. “I’ll leave the light on this time, petal. Just so you can get a really good look at what you’ve done.” He was humming a tune as he walked out, leaving his instruments strewn across the floor.
Mallory couldn’t look at Toby. He tried; he did. But he couldn’t bring himself to. The problem was that he knew Rimmon meant what he said. Toby would die, and after him there would be another and another and another. An endless procession of bodies, just to break him. And that was the worst of it: hadn’t Toby asked what he had done to deserve this? Nothing. He had done nothing.
Mallory, on the other hand...
THERE WAS A scratching sound from the other side of the door. It was too soon for Rimmon to be back: based on his other disappearances, he’d be gone for some time yet – and if there was one thing Mallory could be sure of, it was that no-one else was going to be allowed to play in his sandpit. He’d staked his claim to Mallory, and that was the way it was going to be. So who was at the door? And why didn’t they just walk in, instead of lurking out there, trying to be quiet–
“Vin?” Mallory was careful not to raise his voice.
“How’d you know it was me?”
Mallory’s heart leapt with relief. Not only was Vin alive, he might be able to get them out. Or at least help Mallory to get them out...
“I’ve never met anyone who makes as much noise trying to be quiet as you do. It couldn’t have been anybody else. Where are we?”
There was muffled swearing on the other side of the door. “Forfax’s place.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Don’t suppose you know how we got here, do you?”
“You expect me to know that?”
“Call it blind optimism.”
“Well, can you blindly and optimistically open the door, Vin?”
“Hang on.” There was some scuffling, and a scraping sound. More swearing... and the door creaked open.
“Tadaa!” said Vin brightly, sticking his head inside.
His smile faded as he took in first Mallory – dirty, ragged, his clothing full of buckshot holes – and the mess on the floor... and finally the chair, complete with Toby, slumped like a rag doll beneath his bonds.
“They’ve really stepped up their game, haven’t they?” He let out a whistle.
“Well, you made it easy. You left a spot on the team open when you took Purson out.”
“Who?”
“You can have three guesses. You won’t need them.”
“Rimmon?”
“Rimmon.”
“Look who’s all grown up...” Vin said under his breath. Mallory scowled.
“I heard that. I don’t know how long we’ve got. Can you get us out?” He lifted the chain in his hand, and Vin took it, weighing it in his palm. He frowned, closed his eyes and frowned some more.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing. I don’t know what it’s made from, but I can’t even dent it.” He grabbed Mallory’s wrist and rubbed at the manacle. “Same with this.” He leaned in closer, peering at the band. “Is that Enochian?”
“If it is, it’s not like any I’ve ever seen.” Mallory pulled his arm away. “But it’s effective. I can’t leave, I can barely heal. And I can’t help him.” He nodded to Toby, but Vin was already there. He picked his way through the detritus Rimmon had left, and through the spatters of blood on the floor, his face creased into a scowl. As he reached Toby, and finally saw his face clearly, he sucked in a sharp breath and glanced back at Mallory. Without a word, he checked over the ropes that tied Toby, and the chair... and then he picked his way carefully back.
“I can’t help him.”
“He’s only tied with rope, Vin. Even you can deal with that.”
“You’re asking for my help, and you’re still insulting me? Charming.” Vin shook his head. “But no. It’s not just rope. There’s some kind of metal thread in there.”
“Don’t tell me: same metal as this.” Mallory waved his wrist, and his chain jangled.
“I’d put good money on it.”
“Looks like they managed to get some of their helliron out of Xaph’s lab, doesn’t it?” Mallory flicked at the manacle round his wrist. “Bloody stuff.”