Page 41 of Elemental Hope
“Get your hands off him!” Dominic fought Damon’s hold. A burning line across his neck told him that the knife had broken skin.
“Don’t fight him, Dominic,” Evrain ordered.
“Good advice.” Symeon shoved Evrain toward the door. “Bring the puppy, Damon. If he bites, smack his nose.”
“Ever heard of karma, Damon? I hope it comes back to bite you in the ass,” Dominic whispered. Symeon and Evrain were a few meters ahead. Damon shoved him against the wall.
“Shut your mouth.” He winked, then grinned. “Not everything’s always as it seems.”
For the first time since he’d arrived at the Coven’s premises Dominic allowed himself to hope that he and Evrain might just escape with their lives.
Chapter twelve
Imelda Krenick counted down the minutes until she could return to the young warlock’s cell. She prowled the corridors of the office building owned by the Octis Coven under the cover of several shell companies registered in the Caymans. Multiple businesses controlled by Octis members operated out of the tower block in downtown Portland. If anyone ever remarked on the levels of security it was easy enough to cite the dangers of corporate espionage. There was some truth in it. The network of witches in North America was extensive and they were not all allies. Evrain’s blood would give her organization a significant advantage over its competitors for many years to come.
She was taking a risk allowing Evrain time alone with his partner but she would prefer to gain his cooperation without violence. If anyone could convince Evrain to donate his blood, it was Dominic Castine.
“It’s time, Imelda.” One of her assistants approached her.
“Indeed. I’ll go to the viewing room first.” She walked in the direction of the elevators. She wanted a few minutes to spy on the two young men. Their actions might give her a clue as to how to proceed—with carrot or stick.
Imelda stared at the monitor in the small dark office. She clenched her fists and felt her cheeks begin to heat. For a while she wasn’t prepared to accept the fact that the white room was empty. In an uncharacteristic display of temper, she slammed a fist against the table. She thrust her chair back, knocking it over. She twirled on a sharp stiletto heel then swept out of the door, trailed by her assistant.
She made her way to the basement in silence. People she passed didn’t make eye contact or attempt to speak to her. They knew better. When she reached the white room she examined every corner of the bleak space, her assistant shadowing her every move. Other than a couple of spots of blood on the floor, there were no clues. Imelda dipped a finger into one of the spots then tasted it. A few entirely unladylike words hissed from between her crimson painted lips. “This is Dominic’s blood. They didn’t escape. Someone took them. I’m going to flay Symeon Malus alive.” She tapped her foot impatiently. “Get me the video from the last hour,” she ordered her assistant. “We may not have been watching them, but we were certainly recording. I want to know everything they said, every word that passed between them. I want confirmation that Malus was involved. There’s no possible way he could have gotten both of them out of here without help. When I find out which treacherous bitch was involved, she will wish she hadn’t been born.”
Imelda returned to her office. She sat stiffly waiting while the video was retrieved and turned on. Fury filled her when she realized Dominic and Evrain had moved away from the camera’s field. Much of their conversation was inaudible. “They werewhispering, damn it.” She could only make out one or two words and they didn’t help. She did see the door open, Symeon’s arrival and the subsequent exchange between Symeon and Evrain.
If she’d had a weapon to hand, Imelda would have destroyed the monitor. “I should have known that double-crossing bastard was not to be trusted. He’s an addict just like any other and not in control of his senses. He might come running back when he needs more of my potion but he’s had his last drop. He can kiss goodbye to any further cooperation from me no matter what he promises. I don’t intend to wait for something to happen either—we’re going to go after him. Vast amounts of time and money went into bringing Evrain Brookes here. I intend to have his blood one way or another. I won’t be thwarted by Symeon fucking Malus.”
Imelda squared her shoulders and pursed her lips. She could barely hold back her rage. She began snapping out orders and making plans. Her assistants made urgent phone calls and text messages were stabbed into phones as she gathered her resources. “They will all soon know that I am not to be trifled with.” The declaration was laced with venom.
Dominic and Evrain made their descent to the sub-basement parking garage in the service elevator. Dominic really wanted to wipe the smirk from Symeon’s face. The man made gloating an art form. In contrast, Evrain’s expression was carefully blank, despite the fact that Symeon was gripping his arm hard enough to bruise and taking every opportunity to touch and grope. Dominic hadn’t gotten an opportunity to let him know that Damon was still on their side. He hoped that Damon’s presence meant that Nathaniel was also nearby.
There was a black van parked in the far corner of the garage behind a pillar and it was toward this that Damon pushed Dominic. Dominic pretended to stumble. Damon cursed and pressed his curved dagger’s wicked blade into Dominic’s throat, nicking his skin enough to allow small droplets of blood to trickle down his neck.
“Don’t fuck with me, Castine.”
Symeon was watching them both.
“I’m not! I stood on a piece of glass…”
Symeon turned his attention back to Evrain, ignoring him. “Sit on the floor, hands on your head. I’ll take a look,” Damon snapped.
Dominic sat, allowing Damon to inspect the sole of his foot. “We have to get that collar off Evrain,” Dominic whispered.
“You think I don’t know that? I have the key. I haven’t been able to get close enough.”
“I have an idea. Give me the key.”
Damon hauled him to his feet, using the move to press a small key into Dominic’s palm. He grasped it tightly then let Damon lead him toward the van.
Symeon was barely keeping Evrain under control despite his bound hands. He cuffed him hard around the head a couple of times but Evrain ignored the blows and continued to struggle. Dominic guessed he was trying to delay Symeon. Once they were in the van, Gregory and Nathaniel would have much less chance of tracking them down. It was good motivation to fight.
Dominic had a significant height advantage over Damon so with little thought for the damage that Damon’s blade might do to his neck he suddenly dropped, twisted and threw the smaller man over his shoulder. Damon’s grunt of pain as he hit the concrete floor of the garage made Dominic feel a little guilty but his bruised ass was in a good cause. The knife had been thrown loose from Damon’s grip. Dominic scrabbled on the floor toreach it, the rough concrete grazing his knees through the thin nylon overalls. He finally grabbed it. He turned one way then the other to see if Damon was coming after him. Damon was still on the floor, holding his wrist and groaning.
Symeon circled an arm around Evrain’s neck, pulling him away from the scuffle. Dominic held the knife up, mesmerized by the glint of the dim garage lighting on the blade. He wasn’t so distracted that he didn’t take note of Damon climbing unsteadily to his feet. He held the knife out in front of his body then backed toward Evrain.
“Deal with him, Damon,” Symeon snarled. “We don’t have time for this.”
