GASLIGHT

At their lair, Brian felt he was contributing: “We should strip them,” he said.

Elyse saw otherwise. “You just want to see them naked,” she said in a tone that suggested the most derelict perversion she’d ever come across.

“Dammit, they could have transmitters or something, Elyse!”

She approached Yvonne, but he tried to see Sereda with peripheral vision.

“The angel? You—” Words didn’t fail Elyse, there were just so many she wanted to use.

He braced himself.

“I think we should all strip,” she said.

That wasn’t the blow he expected.

She shrugged off her equipment and yanked a spattered black top over her head.

“You’re losing it,” he said.

“And you’re under control?”

“No, scared shitless. Exactly why I don’t want to wind up bludgeoned with my own elbow. They’re going to find out what you did back there.”

Her bravado faltered a second but she immediately recovered. “We’re getting out of here whether they want us to or not. You should be monitoring the comm.”

“The comm’s on. You don’t hear anything. It’s only been overnight. They probably think they’re at breakfast.”

“Actually,” came from the comm, loud and clear, “no. We’ve just been listening to you.”

Elyse scowled at her husband. “Son of a bitch! You had it on two-way!”

“Like I know how to use this military shit!” He absolutely hated that look on her face.

“Ok, so you found the comm we left,” she said to the voice in the air. “You know who we have. You know I will kill every…”

Ramses cut her off. “You killed a very frightened, middle-aged woman. Not me. I’m coming for you, love.”

“Parley!” she shouted.

“What?” said Ramses.

“Parley. That woman was unfortunate. Your Buddha or Shiva or whatever the fuck his name is has everybody on edge. We’re not going to be hunted like beasts.”

“How long will my people be out?” came Ramses’ voice.

Brian leaned toward the comm. “About…”

“Don’t give them any information! Are you thoroughly stupid? What does your brain do with all that free time? Jesus, is there some foundation to benefit it?”

“Elyse,” said Ramses.

“Jetstream, shut the fuck up now or I start killing,” she snapped. “Here’s what will happen: you and I will meet…”

“No, no Jetstreams!” Brian interjected.

“Who’s listening in with you?” she asked Ramses. “The women. The human women. The captain and the other one. Parley.”

“Do I look like frikkin’ Kiera Knightly?” she heard a brogue lash out.

Ramses overrode the brogue. “Where do we meet?”

“I emphasize: no Jetstreams!” Brian wanted perfectly clear. “No madmen. We just want to go home.”

“Where do we meet?”

“Restaurant in Abba,” said Elyse. “They serve Sip delicacies.”

“Ambience can’t be beat,” said Brian.

“Poets know it. Ask around. And before you try locking in on our signal and storming the castle, be assured my husband’s more than capable of putting several bullets in these chests he admires.”

“When?”

“Two days,” she said.

“No, no, no, you’re giving them time to be smarter than us.” Brian leaned over the comm. “Hours, not days. Two hours. From now.”

“We’ll sit and talk and you’ll agree to our terms,” said Elyse.

“How many of you are left?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

“This every man for himself?” said Ramses.

“There are three other people leaving with us. This transmission is over.” She flicked the comm off.

“That was masterful,” said Brian.

“You want me, don’t you?”

“You know it.” They stripped.

Oh Dear spirits, thought Sereda. They were merely paralyzed, not unconscious.

Vampiric sex was really rather vile to see.