It didn't take long for Gilean to come to the door of the cottage. With as loud as Velentham bellowed, the dead might have woken. It didn't matter. Within him was a rage so pure it was distilled into single pointed focus. A burning desire to crush his cousin once and for all. "Where is she?" the cuckold asked from the doorway, and Velentham sizzled.
"You don't question me. I'm here for answers. Where is the necklace?"
"No. You took her," Gilean said. "She doesn't want to be with you. Now where is she Velentham?"
Velentham could taste the bitterness of bile in the back of his throat. He wanted at Gilean, but he couldn't pass through the ward on the cottage. He couldn't reach the man before him, and it sent him pacing, flexing his hands. Just one shot. "Come out here, come here, Gilean."
"I'm not stupid," Gilean said. "But perhaps you are. No, deluded. You can't even seen how plainly she doesn't want to be with you. Give this up."
"I killed your baby, Gilean." Velentham's face turned up into a demented grin as he watched his cousin's expression change. "I snuffed its life right out of its mother's womb. I crushed it with my magic as though my bare hands."
"No..." Gilean said, and Velentham saw just how hard the lesser Celestial was fighting to stay in that doorway. He had to draw him out. "Then I took the memory from her, she doesn't even know it's missing. I ripped it from her while I had myself inside of her, can you believe it? While I made love to her, I took what was yours twice over."
Gilean shot a ray of light in his direction, and with a laugh, Velentham side-stepped the blaze. He laughed and felt the joy of causing his cousin agony. He grinned as Gilean went to his knee, his face full of anguish. Still - the half-breed remained behind the ward. Velentham would have to try a different tack. "I always get what I want," he said. "Listen to yourself, bragging of your depravity. What would your father say to hear this?"
Velentham then reached through the fabric of time and space, pulling the elf through and dropping her on the ground. "He would say to give me what I want."
"You bloodthirsty idiot! If she dies, Sanria dies!" Velentham smiled. "Then you'd better start talking, Gilean."
Velentham felt the joy once more wash over him. He was delighted that his weakling cousin didn't know the spell he had placed on Kaliadra. He would do his worst to the elf to draw out his quarry and she would remain alive. "Come, Gilean. Come out here so I can have a look into that head of yours."
"Look into your own Velentham. Face the truth that is there. She doesn't want to be with you. She has rejected you time and again. She fears you, despises you. Let her go. End this."
Rejection. Fear. Velentham scowled deeply, all pretenses of his teasing nature gone. He woke Kaliadra and lifted her arm. In one swift movement, he brought her arm down over his knee, snapping the bone in two and sending the elf into howls of pain. "Come. Here. Gilean," he said, his face filled with nothing more than the desire to rip his cousin into pieces.
