Page 42 of Elemental Hope
Dominic braced himself. Damon charged toward him. They made contact, Damon driving him back like a footballer in tackle practice. Dominic let the momentum carry him. The two of them crashed into Evrain and Symeon and they all ended up on the ground. Dominic scrambled free first, trying to get a picture of who was where. He still had hold of the key but the knife was gone. Evrain had rolled toward the van. Symeon seemed stunned and was holding his head. Damon lay on the floor, moaning. The knife stuck out of his chest.
Dominic froze. He needed to free Evrain. Once the collar was gone and his hands were free, he would be able to use his power. Symeon would have no chance against him. He needed the knife.
Dominic knelt by Damon’s prone form, blocking him from Symeon’s view. “Jesus, Damon. What have you done to yourself?” He couldn’t see much blood.
“Stab vest. Nathaniel insisted,” Damon murmured, keeping his voice low. “Pull the knife out.”
“Fuck, you scared me!”
“Hurry up. Symeon won’t use his power, he’s drained and he hasn’t had any potion in twenty-four hours. This is your best chance.”
Dominic pulled the knife, which came free easily. Damon screamed and clutched at his chest. He was acting his heart out. Dominic stood, gripping the knife. He stared at Symeon, who was scrambling to his feet. Rather than rushing to his lover’s side, Symeon backed even further away, muttering an irritated curse. Dominic took steady paces toward Symeon who, as Damon had predicted, made no attempt to use his power. He had no other weapon that Dominic could see.
“Don’t hesitate, Dominic!” Evrain shouted the words even as Symeon made a grab for him. Symeon forced Evrain across the garage so he stood with his back to a wall with Evrain in front of him. Evrain twisted in Symeon’s grip, fighting hard.
Dominic was at a loss. This was stalemate and he had no idea what to do next. Symeon had a firm grip on Evrain and though the knife still glinted in his hand, Dominic couldn’t see a way of using it without hurting Evrain. Behind him Damon’s groans were getting louder.
“Symeon, help me.” Damon’s words were slurred and difficult to understand.
Dominic wondered if there was a sliver of compassion in Symeon’s psyche that he could appeal to. “He’s dying, Symeon. It sounds as if he’s bleeding to death and he’s going to drown in his own blood if you don’t help him.”
“Shut your mouth! Damon has never been anything more to me than a convenient piece of ass.” He focused his red glare on Dominic. “Now give me that knife, boy, then go and get in the van. Neither of you are going anywhere without me and if we don’t move soon Imelda will have people down here looking for us. I’m sure you don’t want that. I’m a far better option than that bitch.”
The knife in Dominic’s hand wavered for just a moment as he thought about the consequences of Imelda getting her hands on Evrain once more.
“What do I do?” he asked urgently, hoping that Evrain would have some kind of inspiration. Evrain’s beautiful green-gold eyes flashed but he could only shrug.
“I hate to say it, but we have no choice. We need to get out of this building. Give him the knife, Dominic, there’s nothing else you can do.” His words said one thing but his expression said something completely different. His eyes bored into Dominic, making his intent absolutely clear. Dominic gave a minute nod of his head to show that he understood and took a couple of steps toward them.
“Not so fast!” Symeon snapped out the words and gave a vicious yank to Evrain’s hair. “Throw the knife onto the floor, then turn around and walk slowly toward the van.” Dominic made sure his expression was perfect, part desperation, part frustration. He did as he was told and cringed at the metallic clatter of the knife hitting the floor. He avoided Evrain’s eyes and turned toward the van, praying that Evrain would not be hurt by what was going to happen next. Dominic kept walking, nudging Damon’s body with his foot as he passed. Damon gave a faint moan of acknowledgement.
Behind him he heard a sharp scream and whirled back to see Evrain twist violently from Symeon’s grip then throw himself forward on to the ground. Fingers slicked with blood grasped for the abandoned knife. He had launched himself forward with no thought for his bound hands or the fact that he was still shirtless, and as he rolled Dominic could see severe grazing up his arm and across a pale shoulder. His bare feet scrabbled for purchase as the knife skittered just out of reach.
Dominic turned and ran as fast as he could back toward them. Symeon had dived at Evrain’s legs and was clawing his way along his body, pinning him to the concrete floor. Dominic reached them in seconds. He grabbed a fistful of white hair then pulled. Symeon screamed but didn’t let go of Evrain, soDominic yanked again and this time Symeon rolled away. Evrain still hadn’t managed to grasp the knife so Dominic picked it up. He sliced through the plastic binding connecting the cuffs around Evrain’s outstretched hands. He winced at the damage that was left beneath the ties, but Evrain looked up at him and grinned. Adrenaline flooding his system, Dominic grinned back. He displayed the small key in his hand. There was a key-shaped indentation on his palm where he’d been gripping it so tightly. Fumbling a bit in his haste, he unlocked the collar around Evrain’s neck. Evrain pulled it apart then threw it, Frisbee style, across the garage floor. He struggled to his knees.
“Start the van,” he urged. “Damon probably has the keys. I’ll deal with Symeon.” He scrambled toward the other warlock. A blast of power sent Symeon spinning toward the wall where he banged his head, slumping into unconsciousness.
Dominic searched around for Damon, who appeared next to him.
“I have the keys.” He jangled them. “Can we get out of here now?”
“What the…” Evrain stood. “I thought you were…I mean you had a knife sticking out of you. Didn’t you?”
“He’s with us,” Dominic said. “Sorry—didn’t get a chance to tell you.”
Keys in hand, Damon ran to the van, yanked open the door and started it.
By the wall, Symeon moaned.
“Fuck, he’s coming round.” Evrain gave Dominic a push. “Van. Now!”
Dominic ran to the vehicle. He jumped in next to Damon. Leaning from the open door he yelled, “Let’s go, Evrain!”
Out of the corner of his eye Dominic thought he saw a flash of flame and when Damon pulled forward he could see that Evrain was taking full advantage of access to his power. Hewasn’t channeling—this was uncontrolled wild magic. His eyes were glowing, green as a cat’s, and his dark hair was blowing in a supernatural wind. Dust was flying around his ankles. As he brought his arms up he laughed when the pipes above his head burst and water came flooding down. Symeon cowered against the wall, his fingers flickering rapidly, but there was little he could do against such enormous power. In the end, half drowned by water, harassed by wind and dust, all he could do was cover his head and whimper.
Dominic hoped that Evrain had his abilities under control. Symeon must have been praying for his life. Evrain was frightening, standing amidst the elements, blood-streaked arms held aloft, his lips murmuring words of power as he threw water, wind and fire around the basement. Dominic understood his fury but he couldn’t let it continue. He scrambled out of the van and got as close as he dared. The wind buffeted him so hard he could barely remain upright.
“Cut the pyrotechnics and get in the damned van, Evrain!” He yelled in Evrain’s direction. For a few moments Dominic thought that he was going to be ignored, but Evrain stilled and his gaze flicked toward Dominic. He gave a slight nod. He lowered his arms and stared at Symeon’s pathetic figure huddled in the corner. Evrain took half a step toward him and Dominic wondered if things were going to get bloody. Evrain didn’t speak. He deliberately turned his back on Symeon—a calculated insult—then walked over to Dominic. Holding out his arms, he remained still until Dominic walked into his embrace, accepting a thorough, passionate kiss.
