Prologue
“Daing ort!” Élan Louvella pinched his nose shut as he ducked through the low door frame, and tried to breathe through his mouth. The six-foot by six-foot cell stunk of human excrement, urine, and something else that made him gag, and his eyes burn. He squinted into the shadows, and his eyebrows rose. There appeared to be a bucket on the floor, and was that a hole in the ground? His eyes fell to a lumpy pile of rags. He sighed deeply, and realized he must have arrived just in time. He crossed to the body on the floor, and crouched down. The stench was even worse this closer to the floor. He swallowed, and covered his mouth. His jaw clenched, his resolve deepened to bring the one man that had put his brother in this place. That man would see his last sunset as soon as possible.
His brother was facing the wall, and he was startled when a mouse crawled out from under a mass of tangled hair. He cursed under his breath, and prayed his brother hadn’t lost his sanity. He reached out a hand and poked his shoulder, ”Wakey, wakey…" Élan thought he heard a rumble, but wasn’t sure. He shoved at Rolen’s shoulder. His brother turned over, and Élan thought he was going to be sick. His brother was more than filthy from head to toe. He was almost unrecognizable. His face was covered in a thick, six inch beard, and he definitely saw fleas crawling over his skin. He shivered as his anger deepened. He had to be firm, and slapped Rolen’s face. "Come on brother, wake your ass up.”
Rolen groaned and looked up into the sea-green eyes of his brother. He hadn’t used his voice in some time, and croaked out, in a near whisper, “Élan?”
“Aye brother.”
He squinted, blinked and then started to laugh. “You are nothing but the devil come to take me.”
“Perhaps, but more to take you out of here, for good, back into our own form of hell. Come on now up you go.” Élan watched his brother’s eyes open wider in recognition. He chuckled, “Aye, tis me. Took me awhile, but here I am.”
He felt all of his molecules stitched together as the vision of Storm Macleod came roaring back into his head, and the memories of the subsequent days following his impetuous act. The explosion and his body being hurtled backward as a thousand sparks erupted around him, robbing him of his thoughts, his sense of self. And then his father, dragging him into this deep, dark pit and forgetting him for his actions. No, this was another trick of Bertrand Louvella, and he wasn’t going to play. "What the fuck do you want?” He grumbled.
"Work to do brother…" Élan chuckled.
Rolen’s bushy eyebrow cocked, seeing his brother more clearly, hearing the devilment in his laughter. He rolled up on his thin bedding, "Who let you out of your cage?"
Élan grinned, “Our dear cousin Ives belched me up out of that hellhole in Argentina. And now I get to play and I need you’re particular talents." He rubbed his hands together, gleefully. Then his hand snatched out savagely and grabbed Rolen's hair, got right in the other's face. His brother’s hot breath stunk of stale cigarettes and Élan held his own; his stomach turned over. Élan’s snarl echoed all around the close quarters of the cell, "And this time, you fuck with me, I'll make you disappear forever."
