Elian stared at the girl pressed against him.
"Pointing a gun to my head, kid? That's not gonna help you."
Her eyes were blown wide, pupils unfocused. Her empty eyes locked with his. The clown makeup had washed off during the struggle with Miranda, leaving faint streaks of red around her mouth and pale smudges on her cheeks.
The gun trembled in her small hand. The barrel pressed against his temple.
Her voice came out flat, breaking in the middle of her words.
"I don't want to go with you. I want my mommy."
Elian hummed beneath his breath. The air around them was still thin, the sky spread open beneath his feet. He let out a long breath, watching her expression twitching.
"You're a strong one," he muttered. "What's your name again?"
"Deidre."
"How old are you, Deidre?"
She blinked once. "Nine."
He tilted his head. "Are you afraid of heights?"
Deidre shook her head fast.
Elian's lips twitched. "Good."
He let go of her.
