‘Yes,’ Denise whispered.

‘Which one of us wants you the most, do you think?’

The footsteps stopped outside the door. ‘Endgame,’ whispered Sebastian.

Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen

The Lair

December 4, 1.25 p.m.

A group of rats scuttled across the path and disappeared through an open drain. Harper’s small flashlight bounced from wall to wall. His nerves were wired. He was alone, but somewhere above the ground the task force was going in hard. He felt like every sense was heightened as he darted along the tunnel and reached the heavy door. He held his Glock firmly in his hand. Sebastian would be ready for him, he knew that. He kicked the door open and stood back, his gun raised, his body tense. Down the corridor was a barred door. Two bars had been removed. Harper moved towards it slowly, looking out over the barrel of his gun. The light was dim in the room. It was lit only by candlelight, but Harper could make out a figure standing on a small stool. He reached the bars and staggered back, shocked.

Denise stood in the centre of the cell, naked, bruised and bloody. There was a noose around her neck. Was this Sebastian’s final joke? To give him Denise, like this? To take something good and destroy it? Had he just killed her?

‘Denise?’ he called out, peering through the bars, looking left to right across the cell. No one else appeared to be there.

He heard a response. A muffled, low, cracked voice. He put one foot through the door and glanced left and right. No one. ‘Where is he?’

Denise shook her head. She couldn’t speak. Tom could see that Sebastian had wrapped something round her mouth. He shoved himself through the bars. The room was silent. He moved cautiously, aiming his gun, but he saw no one. The room was a simple box, and there was nowhere to hide. He moved quickly across to Denise and almost died inside looking at her. Her face was discoloured and swollen, but she was alive. That’s what mattered. Alive. He removed her gag. She was trying to speak, but her mouth was so dry couldn’t get the words out.

Tom was momentarily confused, then he looked above him. There was someone holding on to the concrete mesh that crossed the ceiling. A set of strange twisted eyes bore down on him. The moment he looked up the body fell on him, taking him to the floor.

Something heavy landed across Harper’s right shoulder, cracking bone as he hit the floor, causing the gun to fall and skid across the ground. The metal bar rose again above him. On his knees, Harper cried out. He felt the metal strike his back as the American Devil hit him again and again. His head caught a blow and blood ran down the side of his face.

Sebastian wanted pain, not death. Pain and plenty of it. He could’ve killed Tom Harper with the first blow but he wanted him to feel the pain. That was his first mistake.

Harper flicked his elbow back hard against the killer’s jaw. It was enough of a blow to make Sebastian step back. Tom turned, his fists clenched. He stamped his left foot into the ground and his punch rose from deep below his waist. His fist struck Sebastian’s jaw so hard, he felt the bones in his hand shatter. Sebastian flew off the ground and landed a few feet away. Harper moved across and leaned down to pull him to his feet. He found himself facing a long filleting knife. It touched his neck. Sebastian rose, holding the knife tight to Harper ’s skin.

‘I’m not going to kill you, Detective. I’m going to sacrifice you. You ready to be sacrificed?’

He pulled Harper’s head up by the hair and exposed his throat.

‘This the man you care for, Dr Levene? This pathetic specimen?’ He pushed Harper closer to Denise, searching for the artery with the point of the blade. He just wanted a small hole. He wanted this death to be slow. Real slow.

He smiled. He whistled. Denise felt saliva collect in her mouth.

‘You ready to taste his blood?’

Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen

The Lair

December 4, 1.35 p.m.

Within the dark cell, Harper ’s neck strained under Sebastian’s heavy arm. He gritted his teeth and his neck muscles started to shake. Sebastian pricked Harper’s throat with his knife. A small line of blood ran down Tom’s neck.

He stared up into Denise’s eyes. They were closed. He saw her eyeballs move under the lids. It was enough. Denise was thinking. What? Harper pulled his head round so he could see Sebastian.

‘I’m going to let her watch you die,’ Sebastian said as he looked at Denise. She was trying to draw spit into her mouth. She let the saliva gather and roll around her tongue.

‘Look at him, Dr Levene.’ The knife tensed in Sebastian’s fist.

‘You’re no one!’ Denise shouted. She drew a breath and spat hard into Sebastian’s face. His eyes shut and his face turned away automatically, covered in her saliva. His arm rose to wipe his eyes. So that’s what she was thinking. A distraction. It was enough.

Harper had less than a second to react. He twisted away from the knife, let himself drop away from Sebastian and spread himself flat against the ground. In one fast movement, he looped one foot round Sebastian’s heel and rammed his other foot hard into the knee, trying to bust it right open. The killer ’s body kiltered backwards and fell to the floor.

Harper had no idea what he was doing in the semi-darkness, but hearing Sebastian’s body hit the floor had given him the impetus he needed. He pounced across the floor and climbed on top of him and raised his fists. His knuckles felt no pain as they ripped into flesh and bone with pent-up ferocity.

Sebastian felt the blows rain down on his face. He was just letting the pain reach him. Pain was a curious phenomenon. People tended to overreact to it. He smiled. His jaw broke and hung loose. His teeth cracked in his mouth. Then he lifted his shoulder and out of nowhere plunged a short-bladed knife into Harper ’s arm. The punching ceased. Harper stifled a cry. Sebastian threw him aside and laughed through his bloody teeth.

‘Detective Harper!’ said the voice of the killer. ‘Angry, aren’t you, Tom? Were you angry when you killed my little Mo? You fucking asshole.’

Harper stared around the room looking for his options. ‘Why don’t you run?’ he said. ‘The cops’ll be crawling round here any minute.’

‘Oh, I don’t think they’ll get me.’

‘They’ll kill you. They want you dead. You understand?’

Sebastian moved to Denise. ‘She wants to taste your blood, but if she has to die, so be it.’

Her hands were tied behind her back and she trembled on the old stool. Her head was pulled at an angle, the rope biting into the soft skin of her neck. The stool moved from side to side as she shifted her weight.

Denise was badly damaged, but her spirit had not been broken. She was still ready to fight.

The monster smiled. Harper looked at him, struck by Sebastian’s normality. He looked like everyone and no one.

Sebastian’s foot was on the stool. He kept pushing it and letting it fall back.

‘Tom, my old friend.’

‘I don’t know you.’

‘But I know you, Tom. I know you all too well.’

‘No, you don’t. You don’t know anyone.’

‘You took my brother away.’

‘Mo?’

‘Love of my life, Tom.’

‘I didn’t take anyone. You killed him.’ Harper kept his eyes fixed on Denise. They didn’t know the way out of this one.

‘You took him and left me with nothing.’

‘You killed him, Sebastian.’

‘You were investigating his case, Harper. Chasing the poor guy. You knew he was simple. He was the victim, Harper, and you killed him - frightened him to death and let him die. He never killed a soul. That was all me.’