He pointed his sword against her face then grabbed her by the head and dragged it down the blunt edge of his sword. The cold that stung her flesh, that prickled her skin.

"Don't try anything or I'll cut your head right the fuck off," Apollo said. Dion pointed his gun down at her, the barrel staring like a hole straight to hell.

"I don't feel comfortable doing this." Dion scratched the back of his head with the other gun. "She's not the guy we're after. She's not even a guy."

"But she was here, among all these bodies, bloodied up. What does that tell you?"

"I don't know," Dion said. "You're the detective. You tell me."

"That's why we're asking," Apollo said.

"This isn't asking. You have serious issues differentiating between asking and bullying. And talking and threatening. They're not the same thing." Dion nodded his head. "No, no, no."

Her fingers twitched, a slip that sent a few flecks of sand down a small hill. Apollo straightened his blade and pressed it tighter against her neck until the back of her head touched the marble column behind her, and the blade shaved some skin from her chin. She bled. It went down the white-silver steel, a red streak until it entered one of the three exhaust holes on Apollo's sword.

She woke up, one eye following lazily after the other and when she felt the cut, her eyelids sprung like two tensed window shutters.

One was white, almost to the point of the iris dissolving The other was orange, a fading color too.

"What am I doing here?" She moved, just a bit, just enough to worry Apollo and for him to press his hand against her chest bone and keep her pinned against the wall.

"I'm going to cut you if you move like that again," He said. "And it's the type of cut you're not going to sleep through."

"Where's my brother?" She screamed. Her head turned, it widened the cut, but it didn't seem like it mattered. All the blood in the world, all the shaved skin did not make a difference to her temperament.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but you need to tell me what's going on," Apollo said.

"You're not polite enough." Dion put away his gun. He knelt down, his head over hers. "Hello, my name's Dion. We need you to help us out by answering a couple questions-"

She grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at both of them, with a wide arc. They reeled their heads back, she slipped through the grip and crawled on the sand a few feet away. Like an ape, on all fours, desperate, sliding down one of the dunes.

"Goddamnit." Apollo turned, jumped, and stomped his foot against hers into the sand. He threw his blade away to the side and wrapped his arm around her neck, then flipped her. Until he had a complete grip against her neck until he could feel the bone of his arms press against her artery and her arrhythmic pulse through his forearms. Her feet flailed. He locked them with his own. Strangling her, like a python. She opened her mouth, her tongue came out like a small worm.

Her eye glowed, orange. That was about the time Dion raised his gun once more and put the barrel on her forehead.

"Please ma'am." And Dion, still wiping the sand from his face with his free hand. "We'd just like to have a word with you."

She struggled and rolled and then in defeat, stopped. Not because she was tired. Or injured. No, she stopped at the sight of a corpse, a body soaked into the sand, with bones protruding and with a face so mauled it might have been unrecognizable to anyone save a forensics lab. But at the sight of this mangled scene, she paused. Life left her. Her struggling eased to limp retreat, she slunk into Apollo almost.

And her glow disappeared. And she stopped fighting. And Apollo loosened his grip. She was crying.

"You know, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't so aggressive," Dion said. "You could have just started with something soft. You know, like hello?"

"She's a summoner. Like the kid. She isn't normal and deserves all the shit she can take one slip, and she'll kill us."

Luanne watched from a distance, her arms held together tight to her chest.

"Just ask your questions and get this over with, I feel uncomfortable in here," Luanne said from a distance.

"Do you sense your brother is near?" Apollo asked.

"He's everywhere, that's the feeling I get."

They stayed quiet, their heads tucked in. All Apollo could hear was the sand falling from the small, disheveled lands. Slopes, slanted high against the walls.

His head turned again, to the girl now, who'd been sitting on the floor against a column. A destroyed bar behind her, the bottles rolled against the sand-ridden counter and fell. Vodka, judging by the smell, soaked into the yellow sand and stained it a muddy brown.

"Alright. I'll try being easy on her then." Apollo said and turned to her and walked to where she sat. "What's your name and what're you doing here?"

"I don't need to answer to you."

"Oh for fuck's sake." Apollo puffed his cheeks and blew out like steam exhaust.

"Look," Dion brushed Apollo back as he walked up to her. "Take some notes."

"Hello, my name is Dion." He extended his hand out. He wore a tight smile, from one edge to another, it seemed obscene, perverse in a way.

She eyed him and waited for him to stop.

Jaimi looked around to the other two, they shrugged. So she grabbed a finger - just one, and shook it up and down.

"Great," Dion said. "We're demon hunters, Vicars. My friend, Apollo and myself."

Her eyes narrowed.

"We're not after y-you." Dion put his hands up in defense. "We're after the man we believe attacked you. Ritcher."

She stayed quiet, her eyes were still swollen. Thirty minutes hadn't done much to ease her. Yet, still in her, was a kind of defiant animosity. It wasn't the first time she'd seen death, Apollo could tell.

"Can you talk? I know you suffered something-" Dion said. "Something bad.

"I can talk." She said. "You're vicars. You kill witches. Summoners too. People like me."

"Technically, yes." Apollo walked in. "And you are aggressive."

Jaimi flashed her teeth, almost growled at him. "But you're not the witch we're after. The one we want is the Wolfe."

"He's the one." She lowered her head. "The one who killed my brother."

Apollo paused and looked back, to the body she had previously stopped to gaze at before.

"Is that so?" Apollo asked. "Why'd you two attack him?"

"Because we had to."

"By whose orders?" Apollo asked.

She dipped her feet into the sand and turned them like a tow on the field. Her chin rested on her knees, her chest was forward and her body arched.

"I can't tell you that."

"Is that kind of attitude imperative to the type of success you want?"

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I mean don't you want to catch the man who killed your brother?"

"Apollo," Dion said. "Jesus Christ, she just lost him."

"That's more of a reason. While it's still fresh." He said. "We've got a job, and it seems both of our interests align. What's the problem here in sharing information?"

She looked at both of them. Her eyes, dim. The life in them, dim. A scab opened on her forehead, a small, sleek line trickled down her face.

"Turnus sent us here." She mumbled.

Apollo turned, immediately.

"Of course," Apollo said. "Why am I not surprised that little prick had a hand in this."

"He told us to kill his brother, Ritcher." She said. "So we obeyed."

"How much is he paying you?" Apollo asked. "It's gotta be a good sum to risk your life for. Maybe we can even it out, pay you out, if you know what I mean."

"He's not paying us with money." She tugged on her collar. "He's paying us with freedom."

And they all stayed quiet, even Luanne who at a distance had been slowly approaching.

"So you were slaves? The fighters underground?"

"Yeah." She lowered her head back into her knees. She wiggled her toes in the sand.

"I'm sorry." Dion lowered his head. "For everything."

"You'd be the first." She said. "And I'm guessing the last."

So Apollo knelt down and turned his head and watched her expression as she came up and down, as she looked to her sides and back to her feet. He waited until they locked eyes and all sound and animation in the room ceased to commemorate the moment.

"This is a raw deal you got, isn't it?" Apollo asked. "It's the kind of deal that ought to be repaid, don't you think?"

She bit her lip. The blood dripped to the floor.

"What if we told you we were going after Turnus too? Both brothers. Both at once." Apollo extended his hand. "Would you help us then?"

She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes.