Liam and Wrath left the compound before the sun had properly committed to the day.
Wrath was already at the car when Liam came out, standing beside the passenger door with his hands behind his back and his expression carrying the specific patience of someone who had been ready for twenty minutes and had spent those twenty minutes being fine about it.
Liam came down the steps still pulling his jacket on and looked at the car and then at Wrath.
"Where are we going," he said.
"Somewhere nice sir," Wrath said.
They drove for forty minutes, the city thinning out around them gradually, the buildings giving way to smaller ones and then to nothing much at all, the road narrowing as it pushed further out from the center of things.
Wrath drove the way he did everything, without wasted movement, his hands at a position on the wheel that suggested someone had told him the correct position once and he had kept it ever since.
