Page 30 of Elemental Hope
There was a click, then silence. Evrain heaved a sigh of relief. He would rather face the whole Octis Coven and whatever torture they had in store than listen to Symeon for a second longer. Symeon’s absence did have a downside—there was nothing to distract Evrain from his aching body or his fear for Dominic. He gritted his teeth and amused himself by imagining all the things he would do to Symeon once he got free. Some of them were impossible, even using magic, but it was amusing to picture him with a tail or staked out as lunch for a nest of fire ants. Evisceration had potential, as did melting or crushing by a tornado-flung house. He was straying into Oz territory. The pain had to be affecting his mind.
In front of him a thin vertical line appeared on the wall. At first Evrain thought he was imagining things but then a panel slid sideways with a hiss. The door had been so well shielded it had been invisible—to him at least. Three women entered his prison,one standing slightly in front of the other two. The door slid closed behind them.
“Mr. Brookes, my name is Imelda Krenick. I can only offer my deepest apologies for the way you have been treated. Get him down from there immediately.” She gestured and her two companions stepped forward. One gripped Evrain’s hips while the other reached up to cut the plastic ties around his wrists.
Even with support, Evrain dropped heavily. The women did their best to catch him and as a result he didn’t hit the floor too hard, but the fire that rushed through his arms, combined with fatigue, turned his vision red then black.
When he came around, Evrain found himself lying on a low cot. He was handcuffed but the cuffs were made of heavy plastic rather than metal. Beneath the cuffs his wrists had been lightly bandaged and the streaks of blood had been washed from his arms.
“The restraints are a precaution, but necessary to protect my colleagues.” Imelda stood as if she were at attention on a military parade ground, not a single muscle relaxed. “You are a powerful young man, Mr. Brookes, and I’m afraid Symeon Malus has cast my coven in an extremely poor light—something I regret. I would not blame you for being furious.”
Evrain sat up with care. He still hurt everywhere but had no desire to be sitting while Imelda loomed over him. He stood then met her cold blue eyes with an unwavering gaze of his own.
“Your friends have left? How long was I out?”
“Just a few minutes,” Imelda replied. “I wanted to talk to you alone. I thought you might be more comfortable that way.”
And to demonstrate your position of power.Evrain shrugged and immediately regretted the action. The abused muscles in his arms, neck and shoulders were united in their disapproval of movement. “Your apologies are meaningless while you keepme here against my will. Kidnap and imprisonment are federal crimes in this country, I believe.”
“And you and I both know it is not in our interest to involve law enforcement agencies in our business.”
“What do you want, Imelda? You didn’t come in here for small talk and you certainly didn’t go to all this effort”—he gestured with his bound hands—“to contain me, without some end game in mind. This place and enlisting Symeon’s help must have cost you a fortune, so what’s the payoff?”
“Perhaps itisbetter to get straight to the point, but first I’m sure you would like to freshen up. I will arrange some food, then we’ll talk. Please don’t attempt to resist my colleagues. You’re weak. The collar you have on blocks your power. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have to but if you attempt to escape, I won’t hesitate.”
The same two women Evrain had seen before he’d blacked out came back into the room, leaving the door open. They both held slender batons, which Evrain eyed with suspicion.
“The advances in electroshock equipment have been quite remarkable in recent years,” Imelda said. “These won’t kill you but you won’t enjoy the sensation, so please don’t do anything to encourage their use.”
Evrain sighed. He was in no condition to fight a teddy bear, let alone two armed women with a fetish for abusing warlocks. “A trip to the bathroom would be welcome,” he said. “A meal even more so. I promise to behave.”For a while at least.
The trip to the facilities revealed little. A short plastic-coated passage led to a washroom capsule made from molded acrylic, similar to the pods he’d seen in cheap European motels. There was nothing Evrain could use as a weapon. He was given some privacy to use the toilet and splash water on his face. He wondered if he could manipulate the water and attempted to reach for his power. All he got for his trouble was a stabbingpain behind his eyes and the collar around his neck warmed to an uncomfortable heat. It was an effective block. He was then escorted back to his cell. Two plastic chairs had been added to the furnishings. Imelda occupied one. On her knees was a tray holding a plastic-wrapped sandwich, a bag of chips and a polystyrene beaker of water.
“I realize that under normal circumstances you could kill me with the water,” she said.
Evrain took the other seat then accepted the drink she held out to him. “Yes, I could.”
“But you wouldn’t because you were brought up with morals and since coming into your power you’ve been guided by people with strong ethical values.”
“Even very patient people can be driven to extreme actions, Imelda.” Evrain drank the water. He didn’t think Imelda would stoop to drugging him and he was thirsty. The sandwich was fresh and hunger made him eat with undignified haste. “How long have I been here?”
“A few hours. Symeon neglected to tell me of your arrival…for some time.” Imelda did not sound impressed.
“Why are you working with that worm?”
“He has his uses. Only another warlock could get that collar on you. Gregory Thanet is your godfather. Nathaniel Alberich is his ally. I was left with little option, but Malus has served his purpose. He got you here but our association is temporary, regardless of what he might think.”
“You still haven’t told me why I’m here.”
“No, I haven’t. It’s very simple. I need your blood.”
Evrain snorted. “So do I, Imelda.”
Her parody of a smile didn’t reach her eyes. “A single drop of warlock’s blood can increase the potency of a potion one hundred fold. I don’t want much, I’m not greedy. A few vials will suffice—certainly not more than you can spare.”
“And I suppose your use of these potions is entirely altruistic?” Evrain knew better. The Coven sought influence and power. How they got it didn’t matter.
Imelda shrugged. “The way I conduct my business is not your concern.”
