Page 43 of Misery
It can't be helped.
Magnus meets us at the door of the warehouse. "You sure about this?" he asks, looking at Elfe.
She nods.
Inside smells like blood and death. Three bodies arranged almost artistically.
Los Coyotes members, clearly. But the one in the center...
"Oh god," Elfe breathes.
Carved into his chest, deep and deliberate: FOR THE LITTLE ARTIST.
"Someone's killing for you," Magnus says quietly. "Hunting Los Coyotes and leaving messages."
"Who?" Her voice is small. Scared.
"Don't know yet. But they're escalating. This is the third set of bodies with messages."
"Third?" I turn on him. "Why wasn't I told?"
"First two were subtle. A paint brush left at one scene. An easel at another. This is the first direct message that correlates to Elfe."
Elfe moves closer to the body. I want to stop her, but don't. She needs to process this.
"I don't understand. Who would do this? For me?"
"Someone who knows you're being threatened. Someone with skills and resources to hunt cartel members." Magnus looks at me. "Someone with a vested interest in keeping you safe."
"Or someone trying to send a different message," I counter. "This could be a threat disguised as protection."
"Either way, we have another player in the game." Runes appears from the shadows where he'd been observing. "And we need to know who."
"I'll find out," I promise.
"We'll find out," Elfe says quietly. Her voice shakes, but there's something determined underneath. Not strong exactly, but she’s trying to be.
"No." The word comes out harsh. "You don't need to be involved in this."
"But it's about me." Her hands twist together, a nervous gesture I've noticed before. "These people are dying with my name carved into them. I... I need to understand why."
"You need to stay safe."
"I know." She wraps her arms around herself, that self-protective gesture that makes her look smaller. "But hiding doesn't make it stop. I tried that for seven months. The nightmares don't go away just because you lock the doors."
The broken honesty in her voice hits harder than defiance would have.
"Elfe—"
"I'm not saying I want to hunt them." She looks at the bodies, then away quickly. Can't handle the sight for long. "Ican'tdo that. But I need to know who's doing this. Why someone thinks killing for me is... is some kind of gift."
"Fine," Runes decides after a long moment. "We’ll figure it all out."
She nods, arms still wrapped around herself, can't stop the small tremor in her shoulders.
"We need to go," I tell her. "Now."
I guide her toward the exit, hand on her lower back.
