“Did you catch him?”
I couldn't muster much enthusiasm for the question. I didn't have much enthusiasm for anything. I recognized that I was depressed. Knowing what it was and why didn't help much. Just as I was sometimes restless, agitated, anxious, or suffered from insomnia; I knew why and that a shot or two of booze would fix it. That was the problem. Sometimes the sweating and tremors would make me think I was ill, sometimes I believed it, but I wasn't ill, I was in withdrawal, so I knew it wasn't true. Rationally I knew that they had somehow enhanced the effects; there was no way I had been drinking for long enough to cause this acute a reaction to the absence of alcohol. Enhancing something that's real already, one way or another, is the easiest kind of magic. I guessed they had enhanced the alcohol they had fed me to hasten the changes in my brain, making the withdrawal that much harder.
Larner didn't answer, he never did. But his silence was instructive, the dissatisfaction in it told me they had not. That must burn. I imagined Sapphire appearing from nowhere, killing one or two of them and fading back into the woodwork. He clearly had no intention of going anywhere, if that was the case. I tried to guess at the body count, at how close he had come to any serious targets. I also wondered at how he managed to do it, what his training was and where he came from. The basic question there was; who was Sapphire? Who was he that he could wander around killing people at will and never get caught?
“Ready for a drink?”
I shook my head reflexively. It didn't mean no. It meant I don't care, I was too despairing and dispirited to answer.
He walked over to the bed where I was huddled in my misery. Popping the cap of the small flask he held it out. Whiskey. The smell flooded my senses. I wanted it. There was no way I could survive without it. It would make all the bad things go away. I didn't reach for it but didn't resist when he touched it to my lip. He didn't say anything. If he had I might have been able to resist. But I had something to teach. One thing. And suddenly I had a plan. The plan is what tipped me over. I snatched the flask out of his hand and gulped.