Eleanor's heartbeat vaulted in her chest, jerking from its usual position and shredding straight through the pattern of her breathing, arresting her intake of oxygen as her eyes became wide and the whole world seemed to lurch in every direction. Stopped. Halted. The focus of both her eyes and mind dilatorily zooming in on the person swallowing up the already minimal amount of space in the mirrored walkway. Leaning against one of the aforementioned reflective surfaces and studying her with the sort of giddy excitement that made her blood run cold. Frozen. Heart so paralysed by fear that it forgot its sole purpose of pumping oxygenated blood to the cells in her body. The thick, red, oozing substance turning solid and painful inside her skin as she suddenly became very, very cold.

"You alright there, Ellie?" Her nightmare asked, still smiling sardonically as he tilted his head to the side at the sort of angle that was almost grotesque. Teeth glinting in the dim light like a knife before it embedded itself deep into flesh. "I do believe we rather got off on the wrong foot at our last meeting." He pushed up to his full height, figure sprouting and stretching until he loomed over her like an overgrown shadow. He struck out his hand. "I don't actually believe we've been formally introduced," he grabbed her hand and caged it within his own, shaking it firmly and holding it in such a way that gave her the cruel illusion of escape, "I'm Luke."

And, just like that, her body was once again able to function. To process. Heart blundering, spurting and stuttering as it suddenly remembered how to beat. The sheer force of the pounding organ pulsating in her throat and pushing hot blood through every vein in her body. Whipping through her ears with such desperation that she could barely hear the sound of her own breath. She attempted to remove her hand from is grip. Only for his grip to tighten so much that she could feel the bones in her fingers withering away from his touch. "Let go of me." Somehow, her voice didn't waver, almost an inaudible growl as she forced herself to challenge his gaze.

He chuckled, the horrific sound painting the silence in the kind of gesture that was almost smothering. Her statement seemed to have greatly amused him, consequently causing her mind to run wild with the sort of panicked motivation that almost rivalled that of her heart. She had to force herself to stop it. To calm down. She had no chance of getting out of this if she didn't have a clear head. She had gotten away from him once, she could do it again. 

Before she could even begin to configure some sort of plan, he had twisted her arm with such fluency that she was pressed firmly against his chest. Back to front. Breathing down her neck. Clearly a practised move. His hand still firmly dominating hers, pressing it to the place just above her heart. "You know," his voice was quiet, ground out right beside by her ear as she made absolutely no move to do the stupid thing and squirm against him, "judging by your heartbeat, I would say you're pretty scared of me. I can practically feel it flailing inside your ribcage, sweetheart."

Eleanor closed her eyes and took a long, shaky breath. Letting the oxygen infiltrate her lungs as she somehow managed to return her breathing to an even, normal pace. She knew it would be best not to attempt an escape until she was completely prepared. He obviously had the physical advantage and, if his previous moments were anything to go by, was pretty well trained. Her best bet was to beat him psychologically. Get him off guard much like she had done the last time. "Get on with it then." She made sure to keep her voice strong, snapping her jaw from side to side in contemplation of whether it would be best to scream. Where were the boys? Surely they would have noticed her absence by now. And, quite frankly, if they weren't coming to find her then it probably meant they couldn't. So that was a pointless option. Did this place have CCTV footage? Luke didn't strike her as the impulsive kind of guy. He'd planned this, surely. He must have. He would have sorted that kind of stuff out beforehand. What was it exactly that he wanted with her?

"Get on with what?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're obviously going to kidnap or kill me, so cut the theatrics and get on with it." She didn't quite believe what she was saying, realising that he probably would have gotten that kind of task out of the way by now if he wanted to complete an illegal action without getting caught.  But he was a little too far invested in her for her liking and, in order to figure out the best way to get the hell away from him permanently, she needed to know what he wanted. His motive. And, in order to get that kind of information, she had to make sure that she didn't ask for it. She had to play it oblivious and hope that he revealed it to her by him assuming that she was a whole lot dumber than she actually was.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm not going to do either of those things." Then what the hell are you going to do? She felt like screaming out at him, seriously praying that the boys were okay so that she could beat their asses for not telling her more about this lunatic and, more importantly, how to get the hell away from him. She opened her mouth to scream, perhaps in the vain hope that the boys were still able to offer some assistance or at least that some other member of the public might be around to help her out of her predicament. She felt something cool and sharp press against her throat. "And as for your pretty little boyfriends, don't worry about them, darling. I've got people taking care of them just fine."

She gulped. As she had suspected, Luke wasn't the type of person to just go with the flow. And, for a moment, she felt a fleeting sense of panic for the boys, it just beginning to hit the extent of trouble that they could be in. Words almost scrambling out of her mouth and demanding to know if they were okay. Almost. Cursing and threatening to smash his head into one of those bloody mirrors if he even thought of laying a hand on them. But not quite. They were far more capable of taking care of themselves than she was. That, and she highly doubted Luke was going to listen to a word she said. And she was about to give up, deciding that she was going to die pretty damn soon anyway, when something came to her. Something good. Luke was a planner. He liked to have things in order. To know everything. She just had to freak him out a little bit. "All four of them?"

She fought the urge to smirk when his arm tightened around her chest, the knife pressed against her throat digging in a little more as it increased its pressure on her neck. "I think you've lost the ability to count, sweetheart. Flynn, Liam and Nathaniel only amount to three."

She thought quickly. "What about Brendan?" It was the first name that had slipped into her head and, as she felt his grip on her stiffen to an almost painful extent, she realised the true genius of mentioning his name. 

"You're lying."

Her throat mimicked the dark chuckle he had demonstrated to her earlier. "I assure you, I am not. He is Death, after all, and you did kidnap Fate. It only made sense to stick by the girl who you intended to take next. Waiting for an appearance. Did you really think that he would just let you go without punishment?" Eleanor spun the story as easily as she wrote song lyrics, picking up small elements of truth from what she had seen, heard, and conversations between the boys that she had attempted to eavesdrop on.

"You're lying," he repeated, but his voice was only as firm as his loosening grip. Possibly due to being so absorbed in his train of thought. The panic of making a miscalculation. Only subtle. And certainly not enough for her to make a quick exodus without him quickly retaining his hold on her. But just enough for her to spin around and face him. Caged. Knife dangerously close to the back of her neck. Strangling the strands of her hair.

"You want to bet on that?" She glared up at him, arms folded over her chest and eyebrow raised in a look that she sincerely hoped was intimidating. Her heart was trembling. Shaking hands hidden by the position of her arms. 

He seemed to study her for a moment, eyes narrowed and grin drowned out by a contemplative frown. Both arms moving to snake around her waist. She fought the urge to shiver from repulsion. Stay strong, Eleanor. You can get out of this. Today is not the day you die. He slowly lifted the hand that was not holding the knife, making sure to remind her of the weapon's presence by pressing it into her back. Tracing the line of her jaw with his fingers. She didn't move her eyes from his.

He cocked his head to the side, now gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger as his lips refused to return to their usual taunting grin. "You really are beautiful," he murmured and, if anything, that simple statement disturbed Eleanor more than anything else he had said, "I can almost see why Liam loves you so much."

Before her mind could even begin to comprehend the words he had said, a harsh voice reassembling gravel scraping against stone rumbled down the wall. The tone holding so much dominance and power that Eleanor almost fell back onto the blade set firmly against her back. She knew that voice. "I suggest you let her go now before I fucking rip your throat out." God, she knew that voice. 

She didn't know if she was hallucinating or if some upper deity had suddenly decided to take mercy on her soul but, somehow, he was here. Brendan was here. But, as she looked up into the wide and furious eyes of her captor, she realised that this wasn't even close to the end.