Mallian! he thought, and confusion swallowed him up, just as a different sun was swallowing the night of the Fold.

His leg was grabbed, squeezed so tight he cried out at the pain. He was lifted from the ground, hung upside down, and then he saw the face, distorted, the wrong way up.

Mallian, free from his bonds and upright once again. He looked even worse now than he had when tied to the ground, his face drawn and thin, skin and flesh hanging down. He was smaller, his bulk less defined, reduced by months of poor food and inactivity. But his eyes were wide and bright, shimmering with madness and filled with delight at being free.

“Vince,” Mallian spat. Vince had never heard his name uttered with such contempt.

He writhed and struggled but Mallian held him fast, arm up, his dangling head level with the Nephilim’s stomach. Mallian had been crushed down wearing his usual short skirt and shorts, but they had soon disintegrated when his body functions rotted them, and he’d convinced one of the roving Kin to rip the remainder away. Now he was naked, and the terrible sores across his body from malnutrition and being kept in the same position for so long were obvious. Wounds wept, and Vince could smell rot as well as filth.

Mallian lifted him higher, so their faces were almost level. Upside down he looked more monstrous and furious than ever before.

“Hi,” Vince said. “Nice to see you up and around.”

Mallian roared. The blast of sick, moisture-laden breath in his face almost made Vince pass out, and then he was moving, the world spinning around him, and he knew for sure that he was being swung down onto a rock. He hoped he would not feel his head coming apart. One second I’m Vince, the next I’m nothing—my history and thoughts, my loves and hates, and every single precious memory of Angela gone.

Then Mallian stopped swinging and let go.

Vince tucked into a ball just as he hit the ground. The breath was knocked from him, and his left arm struck a rock so hard that he heard the bone snap. He cried out loud, and Mallian kicked him with such force that bones ground. He rolled onto his back, doing his best not to scream again and failing.

Mallian leapt and landed astride him, then lowered himself so that his naked groin and behind were pressed against Vince’s chest and stomach. He pushed down a little more, and more, until it was hard to breathe.

“Just fucking kill me, you vicious bastard!” Vince gasped.

“Why would I want to kill you?” Mallian said. His teeth were gritted, one of his incisors rotten and black. Vince wondered why he hadn’t noticed such deterioration in the Nephilim before. “If I wanted to just kill you I’d have done it long ago. I’ve always had uses for you, human.”