Warning: The monster appears... and in true horror film fashion... he begins to show why he is feared. This is only the beginning.

Chapter 51

Paris

Liam Riley woke in darkness and to as much pain as he'd ever known. He shifted freely in the dark, realizing with a start that he was lying on a pile of bones. He scrambled about to get off of them. Nearby he heard a chuckle, evidently from the immortal he could sense.

Feeling the wall, he noticed its rough rock surface and began to stand.

"Relax, priest, if I wanted you dead... you'd be dead," came the voice of his unknown attacker.

"If you just wanted to talk... I would have talked with you on holy ground."

"Yes... but you might not have answered my questions without persuasion."

Liam hefted a long bone in his hand and swung it before him blindly. "Who are you?"

The chuckle sounded again. "I think I will ask the questions!"

"What questions?" Liam could see nothing. Once more he swung the bone and stepped away from the wall slightly as he tried to find a surface free of bones that would give him better footing.

"Where's the girl?"

"What girl?"

Suddenly a blow sent Liam sprawling. He slid once more against the wall and landed with a thump. Slowly he attempted to rise but a second blow landed on his right leg... thoroughly crushing his kneecap. He screamed.

"I've always wondered how much I could do to an immortal... before they talked. Before they would sell me their mother's soul for death's release."

Another heavy blow landed, once more on the only partially re-knit bones of Liam's knee. He

screamed once more... and then tried to catch his breath. "We have no mothers!"

"Don't... change... the subject...!" Another blow landed. This time... Liam was certain that the jagged ends of the broken bones had torn through the bloody skin. He forced his leg to straighten... already feeling the bones and ligaments begin to shift back into place. But the pain remained... as did the memory of pain.

His torturer chuckled again. "I need you conscious for this to work. I shall keep this up as long as it takes. In the end... you will tell me where Darius hid the girl!"

Liam's eyes widened. "Darius?" he thought. And then he realized he did know something. He knew about the little pre-immortal girl Darius had once asked him to keep an eye on if anything happened to him. That had been shortly before he was murdered. The girl had been at the school where Maillot had worked when he'd been killed. Liam was the one who'd suggested to Maillot to teach her fencing... to train her... to watch her.

Liam swallowed and tasted blood. He had to say nothing... he had to endure whatever this man did. Somehow... he had to maintain his silence. "I don't know of any girl," he offered. But his offer was met by another blow... this one to his right arm. Then another blow to his right leg. Liam rolled onto his left side moaning and tried to focus his mind on anything... an old hymn, a prayer, a litany... anything that would help him stay silent. He curled into a ball.

His fingers found the knife hidden within his shirt... the one he kept for protection if he were off holy ground. His tormentor had not searched him... he still had a chance. But to use it... he had to know exactly where his attacker was. If he betrayed having it now... if he pulled it without knowing what would happen... he'd likely lose it. Liam forced his hand to relax and let it drop to his side. Swallowing with fear... he straightened and began rising to a crouch... the pain still present and producing a sick sweat across his brow. His voice cracked with the effort, but it was all the defiance he dared offer. "I don't know what girl you mean!" He flinched in anticipation of the next blow. But this time... it landed on his back. Liam felt his spine snap and he screamed at the pain.

"Where's the girl! Tell me and the pain will stop."

"I don't know!" Liam whimpered. "I truly do not know where she is."

"That's better. You now admit knowing of whom I ask. Now then... " Liam felt lips close to his face... whispering with glee. "She left the school... Where would she go if not to you?"

Liam said nothing, he lets his wracked sobs do his talking. "The pain!" he thought. "How much more?" Once again he thought about the knife. He needed to be ready... needed to make his move. Liam managed to slip his right hand beneath his shuddering body even as the throes of healing were making it jerk violently up and down.

"Pity... I thought we had an understanding." Once more the heavy blows as from some large sledge hammer began to rain down on him until he was just short of losing consciousness. Then... they stopped. The even more painful straightening and knitting of bones began then... and then the procedure was repeated... again... and again... and again... until Liam wanted to babble everything he knew... He'd tell him anything... everything... if he'd just stop... all he had to do was stop.

"Where might she be?"

"Ste. Genevieve," he lied. "It's a convent in Alsace-Lorraine. Maybe someone took her to Ste. Genevieve." He hoped it wasn't so. As far as he knew... pre-immortals were forbidden there... but his tormentor wouldn't know that. Liam's mind could not think of anything else... there was too much pain. Surely no one else in Paris knew about the place besides Marie-France, Valeraine, and now Nick Wolfe. Surely whoever had helped the girl had taken her elsewhere. But the pain... white-hot and tinged with red... made it difficult to think.

"That's better," the voice said. One hand ran softly over Liam's head and patted it gently. "See... that wasn't too bad now... was it?"

Liam heard footsteps walking away in the water and the crunch of bones beneath the man's feet. Then he heard the scurrying sound of small creatures in the dark... creatures attracted by the smell of Liam's blood were nosing about him... scurrying over his huddled form. He pushed at them with a shudder... fearing that it would only encourage them... bring more of them. Their chittering in the dark added to his terror of what was happening. In a few moments he'd be healed enough to stand once more. He shoved again at the rats nosing him and slowly forced his legs to make the effort to stand. He succeeded! Than, as quietly as he could, grimacing at the pain still present in his legs and feet, and back he began to edge along the wall. At his feet the rats still chittered hungrily. In the distance he thought he could hear the other stop and then he heard the sound of steel being drawn. His tormentor would be back.

Liam pulled the knife from his shirt and stumbled off in the other direction from the sounds of the steel. He had to get away! He could not bear it! Faster and faster he ran in the darkness... but he could not see where he was going. Liam hit a wall and stumbled to the rocky floor. Rising... he tried once more to escape. After running into a wall for the third time... Liam realized his captor was closing in once more with deliberate slowness ... drawing out the planned encounter... using time as a means of torture as well as pain. The immortal could hear the other's slow step in the puddles and his oncoming laughter like something out of a nightmare. Liam Riley did what he'd most feared to do... the one thing he did not want to do... but he could not endure even the thought of another round at the hands of this immortal. Even as he continued to run... no longer to get away... but just to put some distance between himself and his torturer he shifted the knife upward.

"May God forgive me!" Liam whispered as he ran the razor-sharp knife deeply across his own throat and felt the life leave him. His last conscious thought was that he hoped his torturer was still too far away to learn what he truly knew.

Through the infra-red goggles that helped him see... the immortal watched the priest fall. He sped up his pace... but the priest was dead before he got close enough. No quickening erupted.

"Damn!" he howled into the darkness... hearing his voice echo amongst the stone culverts and catacombs of the sewer. Who would have thought the man would have tried suicide? He'd misjudged him... and that made him angry. He gave the body several swift hacks with his sword, then kicked at it... still screaming at it in anger. Then calming down, he consigned the body to the swarming rats. They could have him now. He was of no use to anyone.

That the priest had still been lying even at the end was a given... but how much of it was a lie? If the convent existed... perhaps it would be worth checking out.

The girl was what was important. When he'd first seen her years ago... he'd known. She was born... not found... but born immortal... an immortal child who'd been born to immortal parents. Within her was likely the key to everything. She would be his key to the final prize. With her at his side he would survive all comers at the Gathering. He had to possess her. Oh she'd been carefully hidden... she'd evidently been left as a foundling as the others were... but he'd known. He'd sensed the difference in her... as only the oldest of their kind could sense. He doubted even that young pup Darius had known.

But Darius had been killed before he could reach him... and at the time, he'd had nothing to go on as to where to find the girl. She'd vanished so completely that he'd doubted she was even in Paris any longer. The priest had to have hidden her somewhere. As it was... other things... other events... other distractions (he grinned at the thought of the last one) had called him away... but now he was back. He'd come to find the girl, and make her... his. She'd be his... bound to him body and soul and all she knew or would ever learn would be his to know.

He pivoted in the darkness and headed for the egress. He'd go once more into the damned light. He had a clue and time was on his side. Besides... Amanda was still out there. True... she wasn't the one he needed... but she'd do for a brief diversion. He smiled. He could still afford diversions.