Major Wilson had seen better days. Dark shadows below his pale grey eyes showed the lack of sleep he’d had since I last saw him. His face bore bruises and his orange jumpsuit was torn, presumably sustained in his fight with the former governor.

What struck me, weirdly, was that his handlebar moustache had been shaved off. In amongst all the madness and horror I’d witnessed and experienced, it was an odd detail to fixate on. It just seemed somehow fundamentally wrong. Major Wilson, stripped of his moustache, like a last little extra humiliation.

For all that, he was still in charge of the situation. His short, stocky frame stood to attention, ready to launch into a fight at a second’s notice. His eyes bore into mine, flickered across to Balthazar, then back to me.

“I warned you about Victoria, Ethan,” he said.

“You did,” I agreed. “Shortly before you executed a man in cold blood.”

“Who are you?” Wilson asked Balthazar.

“Your worst nightmare,” Balthazar growled. He launched himself at Major Wilson, shifting into his demon form as he did so, ready to break Major Wilson’s neck or gut him.

It was over pretty quickly.

I leaned on the door frame as Major Wilson blocked Balthazar’s initial punch, pummelled him with three fast, sharp counter punches to the face, stunning him. Then he kicked the back of Balthazar’s knee, bringing him to the ground, and twisted him into a vice-like armlock. Balthazar grunted in pain and shock as Major Wilson wrenched his arm.

“I’ve got four ways to kill you from this position alone,” Major Wilson said as Balthazar’s eyes bulged in agony. “And twice as many ways to cripple you for life. Your call.”

The pressure was threatening to break Balthazar’s arm. Wilson threw the demon across the room. He landed at my feet, gasped, spat, checked to see if his arm was broken or not. It wasn’t. I wondered if Major Wilson was going soft.

“Tried to warn you,” I said.

Balthazar ignored me and got to his feet, his face flushed with rage, eyes burning red.

“I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done. You and your damned Section 13.”

“Maybe you will,” Wilson said, “but not today.”

George had been watching from behind me, cowering. Presumably wondering if this week would involve a second coup. It wouldn’t. Balthazar knew he was beaten. Major Wilson hadn’t so much as breathed heavily as he’d dealt with his opponent, never mind break an actual sweat. I doubted his pulse had even gone up.

The cell had two steel beds in it, but I gathered Major Wilson didn’t have a cellmate. He sat down on one bed. Indicated I should sit on the other, opposite him. I stepped past Balthazar and sat down. Major Wilson’s eyes stared at a point somewhere around the back of my skull. My eyes stared at a point somewhere around the back of his skull.

Tense seconds passed as we stared at each other, both willing the other one to flinch.

“So the serum worked,” I said, without taking my eyes off his.

“It did something,” Major Wilson replied.

We continued to stare each other down, unblinking. Not saying another word. From the corner of my eye I could see Balthazar and George watching us, their heads turning to me and then to Wilson, as if watching a tennis match.

I’m not breaking, you son of a...

It lasted nine or ten seconds. It felt like hours. Pinpricks of sweat formed on my brow. I resisted the urge to wipe them away. Focussed on a point through Major Wilson’s eyes, at the back of his skull.

Wilson’s lip curled up ever so slightly, then he broke eye contact and sat back.

Folded his arms and I swear he almost smiled, like he was proud of me or something. Almost.

“Did she ever tell you about her parents?” he asked, his tone relaxed. I knew he meant Victoria. Despite my jackhammering heart, I tried to adopt a more relaxed pose.

“Died in a fire, didn’t they?” I said. Cautious. Conversational. Not sure what to expect from him. I wasn’t even sure what he was anymore. Had the serum turned him? Was he a werewolf now? Or was he like me? A science experiment, a synthetic hybrid? I wanted to ask, but knew I’d get nothing out of Wilson if he didn’t want to give it.

“In their beds, in their house in London,” Wilson nodded, “The fire was proven to be arson, but they never found who started it.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“What’s your point?”

“There was a strong suspicion the senior Pryces were killed before the fire. They didn’t wake up, didn’t try to escape, even though there was plenty of time for them to do so. A neighbour saw the fire, tried to alert them, but couldn’t get into the house. There was enough noise to wake them up, though.”

I saw where this was going.

“You think Victoria had her parents murdered to get the inheritance? Pryce Industries, all their wealth.”

“The police investigated Victoria. She’d just turned sixteen and was their prime suspect. Nothing was ever proven.”

“Naturally.”

“I did warn you, Ethan,” Wilson said.

The clock was ticking. Jess and Dee were out there somewhere. The Pryces were putting a lunatic plan into motion. I needed to get Wilson onside, and fast.

“You did,” I replied. “So, how are we getting out of here?”

*

The prison was brutally simple. There was one way in and out: the huge circular bank vault style door we’d come through. The room on the other side of the door was where prisoners who were due to be experimented on were instructed to go via a tannoy system. Food was delivered to the same room twice a day. There were no guards in the prison itself to avoid any hostage situations, and any attempts to cause trouble led to severe consequences and punishments. The guards could flood the entire space with a sedative gas at any moment. They monitored the prison through cameras in the ceiling.

The two obvious ways out, the ventilation ducts and the sewage pipes, were too small for any of us to fit through. Even if anyone could have, it was doubtful they had no security measures.

“One way in and one way out,” Wilson repeated. “The vault door.”

“Right,” I replied, after he’d given us the rundown. “So, what are we going to do about it?”

“We could start a riot, hope that gets them to open the door, try to break out that way.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” George said. He’d been listening to our escape plans with concern. “No rioting, no, no. Then they send us the sleeping gas and that hurts my head. We’re safe here. Why can’t you see that?”

“I’ve got no problem starting a riot,” Balthazar said with a hard stare at Major Wilson. Wilson ignored him.

“Probably better to wait until the daytime, when the food is delivered. They’re more likely to open the door with their own people at risk.”

“We have to get out now. Tomorrow will be too late.”

“What’s the rush?” Wilson asked.

“The Pryces have a plan, and they’re doing it tonight. Now. They’re totally mad. They were talking about sucking the power out of the magical realm, using it to take control of everything. About becoming literal gods.”

“Gods?” Wilson asked.

“They’re off their rockers, the pair of them. They said no-one could stop them, not even the Red Council.”

“The Red Council?” Major Wilson asked.

“Search me. I thought you might know.”

“Never heard of it. Must be some warlock thing.”

“What exactly did they say?” Balthazar asked.

“Something about draining power from your dimension, about how it would be enough to take control of everything. That if they act now, they can absorb all the magical energy that has been trapped on the other side for the last seventy years.”

“Is that even possible?” Major Wilson asked.

“Vincent seems to think so. This has been their endgame all along.”

“They’ll need to open a portal,” Balthazar said, “If Vincent wants to drain the energy before it seeps back into the world. So they’ll be using the standing stones in Avebury.”

“The stones?”

“Yes. It’s the easiest way to create a portal. They’re positioned on weak spots, where the walls between the realms are thinnest. That was how we were supposed to go home. I can’t imagine what they could do with all that power.”

“Does it matter?” Wilson replied, “Nothing good, without a doubt. They’re a pair of manipulative, murderous, vicious freaks.”

“Look who’s talking,” Balthazar said.

“Wilson is right,” I cut in. “Whatever they’re up to, we have to stop them. And they have to answer for their crimes.”

“They aren’t the only ones,” Balthazar said.

“Try it, boy,” Major Wilson replied. “I won’t be so merciful next time.”

“Enough!” I shouted. “We won’t get anywhere like this. We can all agree on one thing: Victoria and Vincent Pryce need to be stopped. Right?”

Major Wilson and Balthazar were eyeballing each other, getting ready for round two. Wilson stood up, cracked his knuckles. Balthazar grinned, put his fists up.

I stood up angrily and stretched my arms between the two of them.

“I said, enough! Right now we’re on the same side, whether we like it or not. It doesn’t matter that we’re all enemies; there are more important things to focus on right now. Beating each other up will get us nowhere. We have to work together to get out of here and stop the Pryces. Agreed? Or do you two idiots want to keep trying to kill each other and let them get away with everything?”

My head swung left and right, glaring at them as they eyeballed each other. I stood with Wilson on one end of my outstretched arms and Balthazar on the other.

Balthazar’s lip curled into a sneer.

Major Wilson’s eyebrows furrowed into a scowl.

If I’d had time to think about it, I’d have wondered what I was doing getting in the middle of two psychos who had both tried to kill me at least once. They were perfectly happy to beat each other to death. Maybe I should have just let them get on with it. But my concern was escaping, finding Jess and Dee, and getting as far away from here as possible. Stopping the Pryces was, if I’m honest, a much lower priority. Having Wilson and Balthazar onside was the first step to getting out, if that was possible.

“Kid, whatever anyone else says, you have a pair the size of England,” Balthazar grunted.

“Until we’re out of here and have stopped the Pryces, we’re all on the same side. No more fighting until this is over. After that, I don’t care if you beat each other to death with your own grandmothers. Right now, we need a truce. Okay?”

I glared at them.

“Fine,” Balthazar said.

“Agreed,” Major Wilson said.

“Shake on it.”

“Forget about it.”

“No chance.”

“Shake on it,” I repeated, still standing between the two of them with my arms raised. Wilson and Balthazar looked at me incredulously.

Wilson did actually smile this time. Even Balthazar’s lips twitched into a sardonic smirk.

“Only one person has ever got the drop on me,” Wilson said, indicating me with a wave. “I hope you’ve got some more surprises up your sleeve, Ethan.”

He held his hand out across me. Balthazar hesitated, then shook it.

“Truce. For now. But when this is over…” the demon growled.

“Oh, definitely,” Major Wilson agreed.

“Right,” I said. “So, again, how are we getting out of here?”

“Actually, I might be able to help with that,” a familiar voice said.