A Debt in Blood

The shot rang out.

Elias Thorne exploded into motion, faster than he'd meant to, pain still crawling beneath his skin; his instincts were sharper. He spun, running for his gun, but the stranger was quicker; his shot cracked the night like a vulture's squawk.

Selene was already diving. A second shot shattered the air, a hair's width away from Elias's shoulder.

Then came a low, dark chuckle on the wind.

"You've still got some fight left in you, I see," the stranger murmured. "Good. Otherwise, it wouldn't be worth my time."

Elias stumbled backward, rolling to take cover behind a rusted-out water trough. Selene had already set up near the fence, knife glistening in her hand.

"Who the hell are you? " Elias called.

The man advanced, the soles of his boots tapping slow and deliberate on the packed dirt. His face was still buried under the shadow of his hat, but the grin, white and wolfish, was unmistakable.

"Name's Jonah Hexley. You don't know me, Thorne, but I damn well know you.'

Elias muttered a curse under his breath. Hexley. The name rang no bells, but the look in the man's eyes did. He was a hunter. Not bounty hunters, no, those men were after money. This was something worse. This was personal.

"Can't say I've had the pleasure," Elias said, his fingers tightening on his pistol's grip.

Hexley laughed again, shrugging his shoulders. "You will."

Without warning, he fired.

Elias hardly had time to twist out of the way as the bullet slammed into the trough, exploding wood. Selene was already charging, her blade dancing through the air, but Hexley spun, faster than a rattle, and drove a boot into her ribs. She hit the ground hard.

"You're in my way, girl," Hexley said.

Selene coughed up blood, but her glare could shred stone. "Then you'd better kill me first."

Elias was fired.

The bullet struck Hexley square in the chest, but the man did not drop. He fell back, with what was almost a recoil, and under the brim of his hat, something came flashing in his eyes. Something is wrong.

Elias's stomach turned cold.

No.

Not another one.

Nothing more after him, nothing damned more.

Hexley smiled, and the hole in his chest knit close.

"You're fast on the draw, Thorne," he said, voice heavy with amusement. "But that won't save you. You're not worried the Collector's the only thing coming after your soul? "

Elias didn't answer. His mind was already racing.

This wasn't a normal fight. Hexley was something other, something crooked. The Collector had his claim, but this man, this thing, sought something else.

And Elias Thorne had a suspicion it was something worse than death.

A Fight in the Dark

Selene made herself stand up, glancing over at Elias. He could see it in her eyes, the silent promise.

We run.

They moved at the same time.

Selene leapt to the side and slashed at Hexley's arm, forcing him to evade. Elias pivoted and bolted, boots thundering on the dirt. He didn't have to look back to know that Selene was right behind him.

Hexley's laughter followed them into the night.

"You can't hide forever, Thorne," he shouted. "Not from me. Not from them."

The final word sent a new shiver down Elias's spine.

Them?

Hollow's Bend was already behind them, lost to shadows as they raced toward the outer limits. The wind was keen, driving into Elias's face, bringing with it the lingering scent of blood and tempest.

Selene walked next to him, her lungs clear despite the battle they had just narrowly avoided.

"We need a plan," she hissed.

"Distance first," Elias shot back.

"No, we need to figure out what the hell that thing is."

Elias cursed. She was correct, but he hated that. The Collector had just been a nightmare, and now there was a different monster with his name written on its list?

They ran until there was nothing left of the town but a memory behind them. The hills lay wide and empty beneath the light of the moon, the railway tracks glimmering off key changes up a way. Elias slowed, heart still hammering.

Selene wasn't looking at him. She was looking past him.

"Elias."

He turned.

And beheld the witness upon the earth.

A Warning in Blood

The earth was harrowed, carved with glyphs ripped deep, blazed into the soil as if something that had come forth blasphemously birthed them into existence.

Elias felt his stomach twist. He had encountered markings like this before. Not often. But once, in a long-forgotten town where men made deals with shadows, in whispers.

Selene knelt, running her fingers along one of the marks. Her expression was grim. "This is not the work of the Collector."

"No," Elias murmured. "It isn't."

They exchanged a glance.

Hexley was more than just hunting him.

He was part of something greater.

Something ancient.

Something patient.

And it was coming.

Elias brought a hand to his jaw, the weight of the amulet tucked inside his coat. It had saved him once tonight. He didn't know if it would again.

Selene stood up, brushing the dust from her hands. "Well," she said evenly, "I think we have a new problem."

Elias exhaled sharply. "Old problems: I like to have just one."

Selene smirked. "You're never that lucky."

The wind shifted again.

A bell tolled somewhere in the distance.

A slow, hollow sound.

Elias frowned. "There's no church out here."

Selene's smirk faded.

This time, the wind had something else up its sleeve.

Voices.

Low. Chanting.

Growing closer.

Elias and Selene both turned at once.

And the hills were no longer empty.

Figures shrouded in black walked in unbroken silence, shapes in the distance.

Hexley had been right.

He wasn't alone.

Elias gripped his gun tighter. "We keep moving," he said.

Selene nodded.

They retreated into the night, the tolling bell ringing in their wake.

And after them, the figures just kept coming.

The Bell Rang Again.

Deep and hollow, it shivered through the night like a dying gasp.

Elias Thorne gripped his gun tighter. The gunfight with Hexley had not helped, and now his heartbeat was climbing again. Because there just over the hill figures shifted in the dark.

Not one. Not two.

Dozens.

Figures cloaked in long, tattered robes, whose faces disappeared behind hoods that seemed to drink the moonlight. They crept in dead silence, the only noise, the whisper of their robes giving them away. And they were coming directly for Elias and Selene.

Selene let out a slow breath. "Tell me this is just a really bad dream."

Elias didn't answer. He stepped back and looked over at the nearest cover, a rocky outcrop near the old railway. If they had to fight, he'd prefer something solid behind him.

But then the figures stopped.

And one stepped forward.

The tallest of the lot, this one's robe was embroidered with golden symbols, and his patterns swirled in unnatural, twisting designs. And when they spoke, their voice slid through the air like oil across water.

"Elias Thorne. The debt must be paid."

The cold bit deep into Elias's bones.

Selene stepped closer to him, her knife glinting in her hold. "You have a real bad habit," she muttered. "Debts to people who won't let you live."

Elias's jaw tensed. NOT LIKE I DO IT ON PURPOSE.

The figure raised a hand. The second bell tolled, louder this time. A high, pealing sound that did not simply vibrate in the air but bored into their minds.

A lance of pain shot through Elias's skull. He gritted his teeth and kept himself from going down. Selene wasn't as lucky. She staggered, knees buckling, breath wheezing as she clutched her head.

The hooded figure cocked its head. "And you carry the mark of the Collector, but you roam free. Unacceptable."

As soon as they said it, Elias's Hollow Mark burned white-hot on his wrist. A pain so intense it felt like it could tear him apart from the inside.

Elias bit back a scream.

He'd felt pain before. Shot and had bullets sink into his flesh, broken bones after falling badly from a horse, nearly drowned once in a flood.

But this.

This was different. This was something that was reaching inside him.

The cloaked figure stepped another pace forward. "Do you even know what you stole, Elias Thorne? "

His vision swam. The pain raged up in him like fire in his veins. He fell to one knee, panting.

Selene snapped.

She thrust herself forward, the knife gleaming. Fast. Precise.

But the figure just raised a hand.

Selene froze midair.

Her body froze, as if some hidden freak had grabbed hold of her arms. Her knife hung from her stiff fingers, useless.

Elias could barely move to push through the pain surging in his wrist. "Let… her… go…"

The figure brought their hand down. Selene fell to the ground, panting.

"Consider that a warning."

Elias struggled to remain conscious. The pain sent tremors through his entire body, but he pushed himself upright.

The hooded figure moved closer, and Elias finally caught a glimpse of what was under the hood.

A mask.

Glossy bone-white, engraved with glyphs that twitched when you stared too long. No eyes, only black pools where his eyes had been.

The voice that came next was soothing. Measured.

"You are in possession of something that is not yours."

The amulet.

Elias's fingers twitched toward his pocket, where cold metal still pressed to his chest.

The figure in black extended a hand. "Give it to me."

Elias gulped, every instinct shrieking in his ears. This was about more than just the Collector now. This was bigger.

And whatever these people were, they wanted the amulet more than they wanted his life.

He hesitated.

And then everything went to hell.

The Fire and the Fury

A single gunshot pierced the night.

The hooded figure lurched backward. Blood splattered on the ground.

Selene had been fired.

When the shot arrived, the rest of the figures moved.

Fast.

One moment they were standing still; the next, they were charging.

Selene grasped Elias's arm, hauling him upright. "Move, move, move! "

They ran.

Through the dust and the dark, through the shriek of pain radiating in Elias's wrist, they ran as the hooded figures pressed back toward them.

Elias spun around, shooting twice over his shoulder. He wasn't sure if they hit. He wasn't sure whether bullets worked against things like these, anyway.

The railway was ahead. If they could merely get to the bridge and cross it, perhaps.

A figure just showed up out of nowhere.

A second earlier, there had been open space. Then a hooded shape leapt from the shadows.

Elias didn't think.

He launched himself into the figure, bringing them down. They rolled down a low embankment, tumbling over dirt and gravel before crashing into an old, rotting fence post.

Elias hit first. Hard.

The breath was knocked out of him. The figure stood up quicker than they should have been able to. A knife flashed in their hand.

Selene's blade flashed.

A swift arc of silver.

The figure lurched backward, gasping. It bloomed like blood across their robe.

Selene reached for Elias, pulling him up. "You good? "

He coughed, wincing. "Debatable."

"We need to"

The ground trembled.

The bell tolled again.

With dread pooling in his gut, Elias turned.

The hooded man he had just shot was getting up.

Their blood moved.

It shifted. Returning to their body like it had a will.

Selene saw it too. "That isn't natural."

"No," Elias muttered. "It isn't."

The figure in the mask reached a hand.

The wind died.

Everything went still.

And then a voice, low and eternal, sounded in the night.

"You can't run from the House of Dust."

Selene inhaled sharply. "That's a really pretty name for something that looks like a damn funeral procession."

The masked figure cocked its head.

And they all moved at the same time.

A Gambler's Play

Elias had one second to act.

His other hand plunged into his pocket.

He gripped the amulet with his fingers.

He pulled it out and tossed it to the floor.

A searing light blasted outward.

The hooded figures staggered backward.

Selene didn't hesitate. She took Elias's wrist, pulling him toward the railway bridge.

"We're leaving."

Elias didn't argue.

They sprinted, lungs burning, boots pounding the wooden planks. Behind them, the figures falter—but for a moment. But that was all they needed.

They reached the other side. Kept running. Kept moving.

And it wasn't until they were far away, into the night, that they finally came to a halt.

Selene pressed against a tree, breathing hard. "So."

Elias dragged a hand across his face. "So."

A beat of silence. Then Selene snorted. "House of Dust. What kind of name is that? "

Elias sighed and looked down at the amulet he still held.

"The kind that's trouble."