Elias groaned as one of Dave's men helped him to his feet. His ribs ached, his side burned, and his shirt was soaked with blood—but at least he was still standing.
Evelyn rushed to his side, pressing a fresh cloth against the wound. "You're an idiot," she muttered, shaking her head.
"Yeah," Elias grunted, "but I'm an alive idiot."
Dave's man finally released Evelyn, and she immediately turned her attention to Elias, tightening the makeshift bandage around his torso.
Dave leaned casually against the wall and pulled out his phone. He answered after a beat, and Elias could clearly hear the voice on the other end—rough, amused, and thick with the city's grime.
"This city's still a crap hole," the voice said. "Just arrived. Where do you want us to meet?"
Dave smirked. "Took you long enough."
"Yeah, well, I had to drag this bastard with me."
There was a muffled sound in the background—a groan, followed by a slurred complaint.
"I ain't drunk," another voice grumbled. "Just… resting my eyes."
Elias raised an eyebrow. "Who the hell is that?"
Dave covered the receiver and grinned. "The Gravedigger."
Elias blinked. "The Gravedigger?"
Dave nodded. "Best tracker I know. Also an insufferable drunk."
On the line, the first voice sighed. "We'll meet you in twenty. Try not to get yourself killed before then."
The call ended.
Dave pocketed his phone, the smirk still on his face. "Well, looks like you get to meet the rest of the crew."
Elias exhaled, the weight of the last few hours settling deep in his bones. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea or a disaster waiting to happen.
But one thing was certain—
The real hunt was about to begin