“It is not over,” Jiri roared, “until I say so. And I say never!” He sprang towards Gabe, his pool cue raised, ready to swing, and Karim did the same. Gabe had expected as much. It was clear that Jiri was a power-crazed bully just like his father. He ran for the door and dived to the side.

An arrow whizzed above his head, and he scrambled to his feet to run up the corridor, looking back over his shoulder. He’d barely made a few paces when the bomb exploded behind him.

Ash entered the large, ground floor living area, one step behind Ozan, with Lucien, Barak, and Samir on either side. A dozen men were gathered in the room, either seated or standing. Some were at the window looking out into the villa grounds, and a couple sat at a large table. The atmosphere was tense.

At first, no one took notice of their entrance, and then a couple looked around and immediately rose to their feet. The movement drew everyone’s attention.

Ozan spoke quickly, arms outstretched in a gesture of appeal. “Brothers. I am here to make a proposition. I suggest we leave Belial behind and forge a new life. This can be easy if we choose it to be, even for you, Pirro.” He directed this at a Nephilim with high, sharp cheekbones and a clenched jaw.

“And who,” Pirro asked, stepping forward with oily grace, “have you brought with you? Our enemy, I presume.”

“They are Nephilim who want to live in peace, just as we should, without fearing Belial.”

“Yet they are armed, and you have brought them into our home.” Pirro’s lips curled back. “You have betrayed us, you and Samir, and who else?” His eyes darted around the room. “Where are Nibal and Dorian?”

Ozan ignored his question. “We are on the wrong path, and have been for years. I am sick of it, and so are many of us. It’s time to change direction, Pirro. That trinket on your finger is poison.”

Ash watched the other Nephilim, spotting two who seemed to stand apart from the rest. He presumed they were Habib and Jabril, their co-conspirators. Ash leaned close to Samir, voice low as the other two talked, his eyes darting to them. “Those two are the ones on our side?”

Samir gave the briefest nod. Ash’s hand was on one of the bombs in his pocket, ready to throw it to the far side of the room now that he knew who to avoid. Even though the Nephilim were in their own living room, all were still either armed or within easy reach of their weapons.

Pirro unsheathed his sword, pointing it at Ozan. “I have worked hard for this token, Ozan. Don’t tempt me to use it. Stand down now, and you will survive. You too, Samir. Your friends won’t, of course.” His gaze swept over them all, and Ash knew, if given half a chance, Pirro would make them all suffer before death.

Ozan laughed mirthlessly. “If I stand down now, you will kill me. You have always been a liar, Pirro.” Ozan withdrew his own sword, and the others did the same, all except for Ash, who cupped the bomb in his hand, judging when best to activate it. Ozan addressed the other Nephilim. “Make a decision quickly. I know some of you are with me. This is no life anymore. It is a gilded prison, and we are chained to a cruel master.”

Most Nephilim, however, fell in behind Pirro, armed with swords and daggers, and a couple of guns too, Ash noted.

“Have it your own way,” Pirro said with a sneer. “I will kill you myself, but the others I want alive!”

A distant boom rang out across the house, just as Pirro charged. He halted for the briefest moment, confusion etched across his features, and Ash threw the bomb under the window. He’d timed it to perfection, and in seconds it detonated. The windows exploded and rubble flew everywhere, but Ash and his companions had crouched, braced for the explosion, and they regained their feet quickly.

Time to get to Pirro before he summoned Belial’s power.

Estelle’s rage increased as she observed the half a dozen women kept in a secure area of the villa. They were young, some barely out of their teens, and they all looked scared.

The series of small rooms were in the basement area, windowless and cramped, and the whole place stank of sweat and fear. A lounge area and TV comprised one room, and a bathroom was to the side. Through a partially open door, she saw that beds were lined up, dormitory style. A couple of other bedrooms with double beds were to the side. It wasn’t hard to imagine what happened there, and rage welled up again.

She subdued it for now, far too worried about the women to be angry with Nibal at her side. “It’s okay,” she said, holding her hands up. “Do you speak English? I’m here to help.”

The women had all jumped up and cowered back when they entered, but when they saw Nibal, they appeared to calm down. That reassured Estelle—slightly. One of them nodded at her. “Yes, I speak a little English.”

“I am getting all of you out of here today, understand?”

The woman’s eyes darted to Nibal and back again. “They’re letting us go?”

“No. I’m letting you go.” She glared at Nibal. “This is horrific! And you let it happen!”

“I was in no position to free them, but you can tell, they do not fear me.”

She looked at the woman who had spoken. “Is that true?”

She nodded, eyes downcast. “Nibal is one of the kinder ones.”

Fire flared along Estelle’s palms as she said to Nibal, “But still a rapist?”

“No! Never. I feed them. I check their injuries. I try to keep them safe.”

“He’s right,” another girl said. “He tries.”

Estelle spelled Nibal back against the wall with a word of power. “It’s not enough.”

“I swear, I did what I could.” Sweat beaded along his brow, pupils dilated with shock. “Are you a witch?”

“That’s my business. When these girls are safe,” Estelle said through gritted teeth, wishing she knew a spell to shrink testicles to dried walnuts, and penises to withered, flaccid skins, “I will burn everyone to ash.”

“And I will help you, I swear.” Nibal had flattened himself against the wall, hands raised. “They are all here. All safe, for now. We need to help my brothers.”

An explosion rocked the building, and some of the girls screamed. Estelle was worried for Barak, but nowhere near as worried as she was for these abused women. She wanted to kill the men responsible, but it was clear it wasn’t Nibal. She dropped her spell. “Tell me the best way to get them out, then you can help your brothers.” She turned to the women. “Grab your belongings. It’s time to go.”

Nibal stepped onto the corridor and pointed up the stairs, back the way they had entered. “Turn left at the top instead of right, and you will find a series of short passageways and a few other storerooms. At the end is a door to the courtyard. It’s locked on the inside.” He thrust keys at her. “There’s a way into the garage; there are cars there, and the gates out to the road.” He flinched as another boom shook the building. “My brothers!”

“Fuck your brothers. Are there any traps on the way out?”

“No! Just locked doors. Lots of them.”

She thrust the keys back at him. “I don’t need these keys, only the car keys. And I want cash.”

“The car keys are in the garage. Cash is all over the house.”

“Down here somewhere?”

“The room above this one. There’s a safe in the wall.”

“You better not be lying, Nibal, or I swear I will kill you before all others, and it will not be swift.”

“I’m not lying.”

She nodded up the stairs. “Go. I will find you when everyone here is safe.”

Nibal fled and she returned to the room. Most of the women were hastily grabbing clothes and toiletries, but two were just sitting rigid with shock. The other women were packing for them.

Estelle approached the woman she had first spoken to. She was young and pretty, but her eyes were shielded, and bruises marked her face and arms. “What’s your name?”

“Chiara.”

“Good.” Estelle realised she was radiating power, and she took a deep breath and calmed down. These women were scared enough. “Can any of you drive, Chiara?”

“I can, and a few others.”