Again you have my most sincere apologies for my slow updating. I assure you, once we reach later chapters I will be much quicker! I do hope you are still enjoying it, despite my tardiness!
"Hold it right there."
Despite the fact she knew she wasn't the target of Elizabeth's growl, she still felt the need to stop in her tracks.
The teenage girl froze, "Hey, it's you."
Elizabeth voice was level and measured, "Yes, it's me, and I think you know why I have sought you out."
She looked down, "Yeah. Is it about that crap I nicked from that old house?"
Straightening, Elizabeth caught the girl with a lethal glare, "Yes."
Helena began to relax, she knew when Elizabeth was genuinely angry, this was not one of those times. She was angry, but not at the girl. She came up beside her friend, moulding her own features into a stern parental mask, "What did you take?"
"Just some old junk, they looked like antiques, so I sold them."
Helena ran a hand through her hair, as Elizabeth asked, "Who did you sell them to?"
The girl replied stubbornly, "Just some cheap as hell antique dealer."
"Have you any left?"
The girl frowned, "What's it to you?"
Helena saw the subtle shift as Elizabeth actually became angry, "They belong to my organisation; and we want them back."
The girl sighed, "It doesn't matter anyway. Some guy stole the last few."
It was then Elizabeth noticed the developing bruise on the girl's hairline. "What did he look like?"
"I don't know, about six foot maybe. He hit me over the head, my memory isn't exactly perfect."
Outside the cathedral, Freya looked up with a disinterested glare, "You're late."
Elizabeth shot her a harsh look, "We found the girl."
"Is this the one?" Freya towered over the teenager.
"This is Carol; and she is going to tell us exactly who she sold the artefacts to."
Claudia would not have swapped positions with the girl for all the computers in the world. Freya was scary, but Elizabeth could be straight up terrifying when she wanted to be; and right now both immortals were glaring white hot daggers down on the girl.
"I don't know! It was some pawn shop I found in a back alley, the guy ripped me off, so I kept a few behind!"
Pete jogged up behind them, "Sorry I'm late! I ur... got distracted!"
Elizabeth turned her disapproving glare to him, causing the agent to shrink away, "It wasn't by any chance the lovely detective Petra, who was the source of your distraction?"
"Um... No... Well... Maybe... well."
"Shut up Peter!"
With a nod he closed his mouth. As Elizabeth turned her back, he whispered to HG, "What's up with her?"
Sitting cross-legged on the bed in their hotel room, Claudia and HG watched patiently as Elizabeth paced furiously. Freya had gone in search of a bar, leaving the two agents to deal with the frustrated immortal. In the chair, in the corner, Carol sat sullenly; handcuffed to the piece of furniture. "So tell me again; what exactly did this man say and do to you?"
Sighing, the girl huffed, "I told you, he said 'Die Artefakte nicht zu euch gehören, mein Lieber.'"
Helena frowned, "'The artefacts do not belong to you, my dear?' Suggesting he knew about artefacts."
Elizabeth crouched in front of Carol, "Exactly. Are you sure he used the word artefakte? Not Tand, Antiquitäten?"
She shook her head, "No, he defiantly said artefakte."
Running both hands through her thick curls Elizabeth released a growling sigh. "I need a drink."
She jabbed a finger at Carol as she stormed out, "Watch her."
As if sensing her approach, Freya slid a double whiskey to her right. Grabbing the tumbler, Elizabeth practically threw the liquid down her neck; before releasing a frustrated growl at the lack of a burn, "What tap water is this?"
Sipping her own, Freya sighed, "Alas, it is not tap water. It's their top shelf scotch. You just destroyed a sixty euro glass of whiskey."
Looking up, Elizabeth saw the barman; who looked fit to faint. "Ah, so that is why he is looking at me like I'm some kind of hell-beast."
Freya curved an eyebrow, and finished her drink, "Tell me that joke was not intended, if it was may I say it was in incredibly bad taste."
Elizabeth blinked slowly in embarrassment, but rather than show it, she looked to the barman, "Speaking of bad taste; another."
Again! My sincere apologies for being so damned late!
As always I adore to hear what you are thinking about it! (The weird thing is, I have most of the later chapters written, I just need to link the flaming things!)