Noah kept Bethalie busy until nightfall and she refused to feel overly bad about it. It wasn't until they were both back in their clothes and heading toward the elevator that her phone sounded out, startling her. She wasn't used to it ringing. Evyn only used the Walkie App. "Go," she said, not sure how to answer it. It certainly wasn't her mother calling so she didn't think the niceties were required.

"Ward, I'm to be at The Warehouse within the hour," the deep voice said. "I'm assuming this is a go for you."

"We'll be close by," she said, disconnecting and sliding her phone back into her jeans pocket. Relief washed over her. Well, that much of the mystery was solved. In her mind, leastways.

"What's happening?" Noah asked, following her into the elevator.

"That was Jürgen. He'll be at The Warehouse in an hour," Bethalie answered him, feeling a slight weight lift off her shoulders. "And I think we just proved that Lance Morgan is leaking the names of offenders."

Actually, there was no thinking to it. It was Lance Morgan, without a doubt. The Big Guys had re-opened the Narc-line and had made sure that Lance Morgan had been fed the name of a particular offender, a name that Lance was supposed to pass onto The Big Guys, who would then investigate the claim and then give Lance the go ahead to then pass the name onto Evyn...as far as Lance knew. But, Lance was clearly withholding the name from Evyn because it had not yet crossed her desk.  And it should have.

So, as far as she could figure, once an offender was found guilty, Lance had to be leaking the name to the murderers first, giving them time to get hold of the target and do their thing, before he then got on with his job and forwarded the name to Evyn. By then, it was obviously too late for the offender to be put down because they were already dead.

"But, what is the point of Lance Morgan doing this?" Noah asked as they chugged toward the top floor.

Bethalie shrugged. "He probably does it because she's his sister. People are willing to do unbelievable things when it comes to their family, don't you think?"

A look of remorse rolled over Noah's rugged features and he let out a breath. "Touché. But, I can't reason out why the sister and the other two Witches, if they're involved, would want to do it? There seems absolutely nothing to be gained by killing Vampires. I just don't understand."

"Well, I'm sure I'll be able to coax the reason out of them," Bethalie stated, stepping off the elevator and hurrying into the living space. "Evyn, Mace, saddle up! We're out of here!" she called, heading to her cupboard to grab her coat and fill her messenger bag with what was hopefully an appropriate amount of Witch Balls. She handed Noah several and then walked across the space and handed Mace his share.

"Where are we going?" Evyn wondered, grabbing her computer and following everyone toward the front door.

"Hunting," Bethalie answered easily.

"Who?" the girl asked, confused. "What's going on?"

"We're going after Jürgen Van Cleeve," Bethalie said as they stepped onto the elevator.

"Wait...why?" came the question. "What...what did Jürgen do?"

A sharp shard went through Bethalie. Of course her assistant would be confused. Lance Morgan didn't forward Jürgen's name to her, so she would have no idea what was going on. Come to think of it, with everything that had happened over the past several hours, she couldn't remember if she'd actually informed Evyn of her little plan or not... 

"I'll explain it to you in the van," Mace said, sounding somewhat guilt-ridden.

Bethalie was besieged by that same guilt. Evyn had been through such a traumatic few days...the poor girl seemed almost completely thrown off her game, and now they'd forgotten to include her in their scheme. Evyn would probably never forgive her.

Once her little troupe had all piled into the van, they peeled out and careened through the streets toward The Warehouse, wanting to be in place before Jürgen showed up. She didn't want to make any mistakes and wind up missing him. Jürgen's untimely death was not part of the plan.

At The Warehouse, which was fairly thumping with activity, they parked across the street, in full view of the door so they could see Jürgen approaching. Ten minutes after they made it, Jürgen appeared out of the darkness, by passing the line waiting to get in and the bouncer made no protest. Once he disappeared inside, Bethalie and Noah jumped from the van and made for the alleyway next to the building, choosing a spot that afforded them a view of the rear door, while Mace and Evyn stayed in the van to watch the front. The thumping techno music could be heard spilling out through the darkness, vibrating the ground beneath their feet.

"If you get the girl, do you think she'll cough up her brother?" Noah asked, leaning against the side of the building

"Probably," Bethalie shrugged. "Family is a strange thing. Lance Morgan would obviously do anything for his sister, but I'll bet you a hundred to one his sister will hand him over in a heartbeat just to save her own hide."

"We don't know how she and hers are actually immobilizing Vampires, so I want you to watch yourself. You have no tolerance to Datura at this point, so too much in your system just might be the end of you."

Duly noted.

They waited in the darkness for a while, listening to the pulsating music and watching the line of people begin to stretch down the sidewalk past the building, and then Bethalie's phone sounded out.

"Bethalie, they just came out. They're heading toward the parking lot," Evyn's voice stated. She sounded near to tears with tension. "What if the Witches recognize the van?"

"It'll be okay, Evyn," Bethalie answered in her work voice.   "I doubt they'll give it much thought. I'm all over the city. If they do recognize it, they'll probably think I'm just working the building."

Even as she spoke, she couldn't help the measure of relief that flooded through her.  She felt as if they had taken yet another step closer to laying the situation to rest.  Not to mention having a possible answer to a burning question.  That question being...how in hell someone had been finding her targets with such ease, targets who'd been investigated and who knew they were going to be ended, which should have made them difficult for anyone, herself included, to hunt down.  

But, a lovely woman, or three, who likely collected phone numbers from throngs of men wherever they went...  Well, a phone call could easily summon a target right to them.  Even a Vampire who was running for his life would probably come out of hiding if he thought it meant he'd be getting...whatever the Sister Witches were offering to give him.

Bethalie started for the end of the alley, but Noah grabbed hold of her hand, motioning for her to give him the phone. "Tuck, take the wheel and follow them in the van. Bethalie and I will follow on foot."

"On it," Mace said. "They're getting into the red Prius. There's just two of them, though." There was a moment's pause before Mace spoke again. "They're pulling out now. We'll be right behind them. Out."

Bethalie took her phone back and dropped it into her coat pocket, feeling Noah stiffen beside her. Of its own accord, her body went completely rigid, her muscles all bunching tightly as a jolt of adrenaline zipped through her. Shortly, the red Prius passed the alleyway and Noah took hold of Bethalie's hand, lacing his fingers tightly through hers.

"Now you'll learn how to chase something much faster than you," he said to her.

As soon as the car turned the corner of the next block down, Noah shot forward, taking Bethalie with him. They were off, flying through the darkness, both sets of boots pounding the ground as they moved so fast the world around them faded into nothing more than a smear of shapes and shadows.

The wind instantly began to howl past her ears, but through the roar she could pick up the sound of an engine humming in distance and she knew that sound would be distinctive above all others if she only concentrated on it hard enough. They suddenly whipped to the left and far in the distance a pair of red brake lights could be seen, two glowing beacons urging them onward. The car was moving fast and though Bethalie had no doubt that she could have caught up to it, Noah kept hold of her hand, forcing her to stay far enough back so the brake lights were the only things she could see.

Noah raced her through the darkness, whipping them around turns in time to those lights, racing through the gloomy streets and Bethalie quickly lost her bearings, having no idea where they were heading or the streets they were on, but that didn't matter. She knew she would end up wherever that car ended up. Her focus was locked on it, her entire body was thrumming with the need to reach it, and she could feel Noah's hand grasping hers, his fingers tight, unyielding, holding her so that she couldn't fly away from him and go after it with full force.

Somewhere along the way, she began to understand that this was what her body was supposed to be doing now. Hunting prey. Not targets, but prey. There was something in that car that she wanted and her body was going to make sure that she wound up with it. And that knowledge filled her with a sense of heady expectation and blissful...freedom. Running faster than the wind with her mate beside her, chasing down something she wanted, was the most natural thing she could experience. On some level, she almost didn't want it to end.

However, it seemed like they'd been running for only minutes when the lights in the distance suddenly disappeared. Startled, Bethalie jolted to a halt so fast her organs hit her ribcage, making her stomach lurch and bringing a groan up from her throat, and forcing Noah to slam to a halt next to her.

It took a few seconds for her vision to catch up and when it did, she found they were standing down the street from the Victorian house that Jenna Hawes and her Sister Witches resided in. The brake lights had disappeared because the car had parked in the driveway and Jenna, Leila Simpson, and Jürgen were all climbing out.

It stunned Bethalie to realize that even through the darkness, from over half a street length away, if she focused, she could see the two women and Jürgen almost perfectly, as if looking through a slightly unfocused pair of binoculars. As Jürgen stepped from the car, his gaze swept down the street and locked with Bethalie's, causing her to gasp with a start and instantly sweeping her with the feeling that she'd been caught spying on someone. 

Jürgen, seeing Bethalie and Noah there, visibly relaxed and even wrapped his arm around Jenna Hawes as the three of them went up the front steps and disappeared into the house, which had light spilling out from the downstairs windows.

"Now what?" Noah asked, quickly ushering her up the street toward the house. "Do we barge in and save Jürgen or do we wait? I mean, for all we know, they could have taken him in there just to have sex.  And in that case, Jürgen might not want us to interrupt."

Well, she certainly didn't want to stop Jürgen from getting a piece, if that's what was happening.  But, she had her doubts.  Lance Morgan still hadn't passed Jürgen's name to Evyn...and now Jürgen was with Lance's sister...who's own Sisterhood was growing enough Datura to down dozens of Vampires...     

"Vampires can hear better than people, right?" she said as they ascended the front steps. "Listen and tell me what's going on in there."

Noah pulled her across the porch, going to the front door, leaning his back against it and shutting his eyes. Bethalie shut her eyes too, trying to concentrate to see if she could hear anything, but she could only make out some muted, muffled sounding noises. It probably took practice. Or maybe she couldn't focus because her adrenaline was pumping, getting her ready to go into fight mode. She did however, hear the van turn onto the street and she grabbed her phone, hitting the Walkie App.

"Mace, stop and stay there, but keep the engine running in case you have to get Evyn out of here," she said quietly.

The van stopped and the headlights went dark.

"All three Witches are in there," Noah said, his eyes still closed. "They're talking about...Jürgen, his work...their work...one of them works as realtor...one of them hasn't worked in a while because she's been sick...someone's offering to get them some drinks...Jenna I think is coming onto Jürgen something terrible..." Noah was quiet for a space, and suddenly his brow furrowed. "I think someone dropped a glass. Something broke. Or...popped?"

Damn! It wasn't a glass! It was a conjure ball! They were already dosing Jürgen with Datura! Bethalie grabbed a baton with one hand and a Witch Ball with the other, taking a step toward the front door.

"Wait!" Noah said. "Jürgen is...Jürgen is already down, but he's...he's... They're saying someone's not answering and they should just do it here, in the basement...they can't wait..."

So, they had guessed right. The Sister Witches were behind the Darksider killings. They were luring Vampires back to their house, immobilizing them there, and then...transporting them to another place to do the dirty work? Damn! How many people were involved in this little murder plot?

"They're moving Jürgen through the house... He's...he's still breathing...but barely.  They must have given him a huge dose..." Noah opened his eyes and lifted his gaze to her, "Bethalie, what counter-acts Datura? He's going to need it."

Guilt lanced Bethalie, but she shoved it away. Guilt later, work first. "Calabar Bean!" she spat the words after racking her brain for a second. "Shit! I don't have Calabar Bean!" Why on earth hadn't she thought of bringing an antidote? She'd put Jürgen's life at risk and hadn't thought of bringing an antidote! What the hell was wrong with her? Why had she not considered that the Witches would take Jürgen down right away!

"I'll bet the Witches growing the Datura have some on hand," Noah stated, his words instantly quelling the panic that was beginning to surge inside her.

Right! The Witches were growing and harvesting Datura. Touch it enough and it would poison you. If that happened, they'd need to have an antidote on hand. Hopefully.

"They're dragging him out of earshot. They're heading toward the back of the house," Noah said, pushing away from the door.

Bethalie didn't want anything to happen to Jürgen, but she wanted to wait long enough to catch them doing something they couldn't talk their way out of. She needed proof!

"Bethalie? Should we go in?" Noah asked tightly.

"No! Wait!" she ordered sternly.

"Bethalie? They have Jürgen!" Noah pressed, his tone rough.

"I know!" she said. "But, I have to give them time to start whatever they're going to do. I need evidence!"

Noah was quiet for a minute, but she could feel the tension coming off him in smothering waves.

"They're killing a man in there!" Noah warned.

Bethalie sucked in a breath and held it, wanting to wait just a little longer. She needed irrefutable evidence. She did not want to be accused of putting down the wrong people. Hell, she didn't want to be responsible for putting down the wrong people!

"Bethalie!" Noah hissed through his teeth.

Letting out the breath she was holding, she felt herself getting ready to fight. "We go in quietly," she said and Noah instantly reached for the doorknob, wrenching it hard and snapping it off in his hand, which allowed him to easily push the door open.

Bethalie stepped into the brightly lit living room, keeping her steps as light as possible and hoping the Witches didn't become aware of their presence. A little wave of relief rolled over her as Noah stepped over the threshold with her, but of course the Witches wouldn't put up a barrier to keep Vampires out. They surely wanted them to come inside with as little trouble as possible.

A few feet past the front door, a familiar and sickly scent hit Bethalie's tongue, and the next instant Noah was clamping a hand over her mouth and nose and grabbing hold of her shoulder, sweeping her through the living room and toward the back of the house, trying to choke back a pained groan as the silver in her coat began to singe his flesh. The living room reeked of Datura and if not for Noah, she would have sucked it into her lungs and given them both away.

Noah swept her straight through the house and into the kitchen, a huge space that even at a quick glance Bethalie could see was scattered with jars of dried herbs and bottles filled with tinctures and liniments. There were herbs and flowers dying on half a dozen racks placed around the perimeter of the room. And the majority of it was Datura. Noah kept his hand pressed over Bethalie's mouth and her lungs began to burn for air as he pointed them straight for the open door off to their left. It was the basement door and since they couldn't stay in the kitchen, they had no choice but to head in that direction.

With Noah sweeping her onward, they hit the basement stairs and surged downward and almost before Bethalie could blink, she found herself standing in a dimly lighted space with a low ceiling and a dirt floor, staring at three very stunned Witches and one very incapacitated Vampire. Noah let go his grip on her and even as her lungs pulled in a needed breath of air, she took in the sight of Jürgen, lying splayed out on a wooden table, his arms dangling downward so the blood spilling from his slit wrists could drain into two plastic buckets on the floor.

There was so much blood dripping into those buckets, trickling down in a satiny, luscious stream...  It was pattering down like soft raindrops. Raindrops she wanted to feel on her tongue.

All three Witches gasped at the sudden intrusion and the sound snapped Bethalie too, instantly jolting into action and bringing her back to what she was there to do. Drawing back, she lobbed a Witch Ball at Jenna Hawes just as Noah threw one at Leila Simpson. Both globes bodily struck the Witches and popped open simultaneously, sending a plume of silver colored dust up into the air. Instantly, the two women began to choke and cough, dropping to their knees as the silver worked its way down their throats and into their lungs.

Bethalie almost instantly saw Noah draw his arm back again, ready to send a globe hurdling toward the last remaining Witch, but the woman let out a shriek and suddenly flung her hands forward. Bethalie heard a scream tear through the air and it took a brief instant for her to understand that it had come from...her.

As that understanding dawned, she found herself lying on the dirt floor, her body curling up into itself as her muscles tightened and her bones contorted. And then the weight hit her, dropping down onto her like a load of bricks, crushing her into the ground. The unseen burden pressing on her pushed the breath from her lungs and caused her organs to compress inside her until she feared she would start hearing them explode one by one.

Damn.

She'd allowed the sight of the blood draining into those buckets to stall her for a few seconds too long and now...the Witch had her. And she was being crushed to dust by someone who hadn't even laid a finger on her.

From outside her own agony, she thought she could hear Noah roaring in pain, too, but she couldn't look in his direction. She had the weight of tons bearing down on top of her, threatening to smash her organs and burst her veins. The pressure of it was filling her insides, the pain of it was blotting out everything else. And then she heard, rather than felt, something inside her give a hard snap that caused her body to lurch.

It was the first bone breaking.

She was lost in a blind misery, aware of nothing but the agonizing pressure, the torture of being compressed so that her ribcage was starting to groan under the weight. And then she heard the dull, hollow sound of another bone snapping in half...and a small part of her was glad she couldn't feel it happening.

It was then Bethalie realized she had stopped screaming. There was just no more air left to scream with. In fact, her lungs were beginning to throb in time to her heartbeat and she knew she only had a few brief moments left before she slipped away.

It was funny. All these years, all the hundreds and hundreds of Darksiders she'd come up against, and the one to snuff her was a tiny little red haired Witch who was standing feet away, not even breaking a sweat.

Shadows began to swim around her and she heard yet another bone give a loud snap. Pressure filled her chest and it felt as though her heart was beginning to swell. She could do nothing but curl up tighter and wait for it to explode, suddenly praying that it happened quickly, just so the agony would stop.

An odd noise made it through the roar of blood rushing in her ears. It sounded like thunder. Was it thunder? Was she was going to die during a thunderstorm? Good. She'd always loved thunderstorms...

Through the darkness closing in around her, Bethalie saw something fly by her and go straight toward the Witch that was killing her. There was movement that she couldn't quite comprehend and then she heard the Witch scream out... With an almost excruciating surge of relief, the crushing weight on her was gone and air rushed back into her lungs with enough force to...plunge her into blackness.

Bethalie couldn't say how long she was out, she was just suddenly opening her eyes, her gaze landing on Mace, who was striking the Witch with his batons, aiming for knees and ankles and in only a moment she let out a pain filled screeched and toppled to the ground, the agony of the assault overwhelming her. Another shape flew past Bethalie and was on top of the Witch a bare second after she hit the dirt floor. It was Noah and he drew his fist back, smashing it against the Witch's face. There was a sickening, dull crack and a spray of blood that arced into the air...and the Witch fell silent. In that second, Bethalie knew the Witch had been ended, her skull caved in by Noah's lethal blow.

Instantly, Noah was on his feet and whipping around toward the other two women, still on their knees, coughing and sputtering as they tried to scream out to their fallen sister. Seeing that they were still incapacitated, Noah turned to Bethalie, a stricken look rolling over his haggard features. He took a step forward and was almost instantly on his knees beside her.

"Tuck, find something to tie their hands with before the silver wears off! And take those buckets out of here! Put them outside the house!" he ordered, swiping at the stream of blood trickling from his nose. "Can you move, mīla?" he asked Bethalie, his gravelly voice hoarse.

She doubted it, but she tried to uncurl her body as she heard Mace's footsteps pounding up the basement steps. Instantly, searing pain shot through her and she heard, rather than felt, a couple of her ribs grind together, forcing the air from her lungs again.

"What did that bitch do to you!" he spat and turned his suddenly pale, milky gaze to the downed Witch. Bethalie didn't know what he was thinking of doing, but the Witch was probably lucky that she was already dead.

Bethalie heard Mace hurrying back down the steps and saw him rush over and grab Jenna Hawes' wrists, jerking them behind her and tying her with something that looked like twine. While he tied up Leila Simpson, Noah quickly removed Bethalie's coat from her, swearing as the silver burned his skin. Once he'd tossed the coat aside, he lifted her up into his arms and got to his feet, pausing to sway unsteadily.

"Hang on, mīla. I'm getting you out of here," Noah said to her, starting for the basement steps.

"No! Not yet," Bethalie rasped. Her work was not done, which meant she couldn't leave. "Please, put...me down!" she ordered weakly, trying to ignore the pain radiating through her with every breath she drew. And every breath she drew into her lungs tasted of something velvety and wholesome, something it was very hard for her to disregard...

"Bethalie, you're wounded. We have—"

"We have to help Jürgen! And I have to finish this," she said through her teeth, lifting her heavy arms up to push against Noah's chest.

Noah, clearly unhappy, carefully put her on her feet, the pain tearing through her making her fear she might faint, but she didn't. She could make it. She would make it long enough to finish this.

"You, Witch, where is the antidote to the Datura?" she demanded, noting that she didn't sound as authoritative and intimidating as she would have liked.

How could she sound intimidating when half of her was focused on that heady scent wafting on the air? Only, there was something else hanging on the air, too. Something intermingled with that luscious aroma. It was bitter and thick and repulsive, though it did nothing to lessen the appeal of the other fragrance.

"Fuck you!" Jenna Hawes shrieked in a raw, raspy voice.

"Where is the antidote?" Bethalie asked again, going for her Baton. She had just enough strength left to beat the answer out of the girl.

"Fuck you, Ward! You should have stayed out of this! We weren't hurting anyone! We were just trying to help Marley!" Jenna screeched, jumping to her feet and struggling against the twine binding her wrists.

Noah was on her then, giving her a hard shove that sent her flying backwards through the air with a loud shriek, slamming into the cinderblock wall at the far end of the space. She hit it with a dull thunk and then bounced off, thudding to the ground, where she lay unmoving.

Bethalie turned to Leila Simpson, who was on her knees while Mace finished tying up her wrists. "Where is the antidote!" she demanded, anger swelling inside her. She didn't want to end the Witch before she was given the answers she wanted, but she wasn't sure she could keep from it.

"Bethalie?" Evyn's timid voice sounded out from the top of the basement steps, startling her so that she whipped around toward the woman.

For a split second, terror gripped Bethalie so hard she went numb. She wasn't prepared for Evyn to walk onto the scene and put herself in danger. "Evyn! What the hell are you doing in here!" she growled at her assistant, her thoughts completely thrown off.

"I told her to come inside. I thought she needed to be here," Mace answered and for one heartbeat in time...Bethalie thought she was going to kill Mace Donovan.

"Bethalie, we need that antidote!" Noah ground out.

Bethalie gritted her teeth, trying to force her thoughts into line. Killing Mace would have to wait. "Evyn, find Calabar Bean extract! It has to be up there somewhere!" Bethalie called to her assistant.

"Bethalie, he's bleeding out," Noah told her, casting her a dark look.

Taking out her Bowie knife, Bethalie tossed it to him, handle first. "Stop the bleeding," she told him, too afraid of what she might do to take even a single step closer to Jürgen. The blood was still seeping from his wrists, puddling on the dirt floor beneath the table and she could picture herself falling to her knees to lap from those glistening pools.

Noah obeyed her order, using the blade to cauterize the wounds and then surprised Bethalie by sinking his teeth into his own wrist and holding the injury over Jürgen's mouth. Stunned to her very core, Bethalie watched as the crimson liquid dripped past Jürgen's lips and something washed over her, something so strong that it seized her muscles and knotted her stomach. She could envision hurling herself across the basement and drinking from that stream of beautiful, ruby red nectar. She knew it would help to heal her bones and stop the pain spiraling through her.

She wanted it. She could already taste it on her tongue. All she had to do was walk over to Noah and he would give it to her. It would be so easy.

Noah, suddenly locking his gaze with hers, seemed to sense what she was thinking and his expression went soft, something wafting through his eyes that made her stomach do a little somersault. He wanted her to drink from him. Had he not been begging her to drink every time they joined? It would be beautiful, drinking from Noah, taking him inside her, letting the wonderfully wholesome liquid enter her own veins, letting it nourish her, heal her.

Noah straightened and held his wrist out to her, causing something almost orgasmic to unfurl in her belly, weakening her knees yet she took a step toward him.

"Bethalie, stop!" Mace's sharp voice cut through the air, startling Bethalie so that she went completely rigid, freezing in place. "You don't want to do that!"

Noah let out a frustrated roar and his angry gaze whipped toward Mace, but he didn't go after him. "You should mind your own business, Tuck!" he said roughly, going back to tending to Jürgen.

"What the hell is happening here!" Leila Simpson barked from her position on the floor. "Are you a Ward or a Vampire!"

Bethalie ignored the question, trying to pull herself together. Evyn might come down at any second and she didn't want her to see a death mask on her best friend, so she tried to breathe in and out, but all she could smell was...Noah.

"Get outside, mīla!" Noah ordered harshly. "Tuck is right! You'll be forced to do something you don't want to do!"

"Bethalie, wait!" Mace cut in, his voice tight with tension. "You have to finish this. You need to do your job, don't you?" he reminded her with a bit more force than she thought was necessary for a human who had nothing in the situation.

A little shard lanced Bethalie. She had work to do and a job to finish. She didn't leave anything half done. Not ever. No matter what else what going on.

She pulled herself up, stiffening her spine and trying not to cry out from the pain as her bones ground together. "Mace, get their cell phones," she said breathlessly, swiping at the sheen of perspiration on her forehead.

She wouldn't waste energy asking questions and not getting answers. Noah had heard them say their accomplice wasn't answering, so she'd go straight to the source. Mace obeyed, searching the deceased Witch first and pulling a phone from her jeans pocket. Leila Simpson had no phone, but Jenna Hawes did and Mace retrieved it, coming to stand in front of Bethalie, his eyes troubled.

"Can you pull up the recent calls?" she asked, forcing herself to keep her gaze trained on Mace Donovan's handsome face.

Mace obeyed with quick proficiency, hitting buttons on one of the phones. "It's dialing the last number called."

Bethalie took the phone and pressed it to her ear, listening to the ringing and trying to remind herself that she could not afford to faint. Not yet. If she could only make it a little while longer, if she could only make it to finish this, then she could give in and pass out cold.

A shrill sound from the direction of the basement steps caused Bethalie's gaze to turn that way and there...she found Evyn...standing on the steps, her eyes wide and brimming with...guilt.

For a moment...Bethalie froze.

Evyn...  

No.  Surely not...Evyn?

Bethalie lowered the cell phone from her ear...as the loud, shrill ringing continued to fill the basement.