Elias was fuming. He doubted he'd been this angry over something in his life and he wasn't even sure why he was so upset over it all. Perhaps it was because Artemis reminded him so much of Ophelia. He wanted to help her the same way he'd want someone to help Phee if the roles were reversed. He understood her will to fight, to get away from them, but that didn't make him any less angry about the situation. They were trying to help, goddamn it.
"I'm fine," he told his brother, letting up on his grip on Artemis and taking the knives off of her arms. Once the knives were safely on his person and not hers, he let the bitch slump to the floor. "We've gotta strip her down enough to check for any more weapons. I'm not taking chances. We've already fucked up enough. Help me get her in the basement. We can search her there."