Page 13 of Elemental Hope (Warlocks #2)

Chapter seven

F elix leaned against the counter in Nathaniel’s kitchen, the solid Italian marble pressing into his lower back. Nathaniel watched him, waiting for him to speak.

“Come on. I know you can’t wait to tell me what an idiot I am.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“Seems like you already know.” Felix raised his glass of iced water in a mocking toast.

Nathaniel fixated on the slice of lemon floating in his own glass. “There’s something about him. I don’t know what it is.”

“He’s a brat.”

“Probably.”

“Definitely. You’re not seeing that side of him yet because Symeon Malus no doubt beat the spirit out of him. A few weeks knowing that he’s not going to be smacked around or used for what his body can provide and he’ll revert to type. Class A brat.”

“How do you get over six years of abuse?” Nathaniel twirled the ice in his glass with his finger.

“You have to remember that Damon was a willing participant—at least to start with. He loved Symeon. Well…he was infatuated with him. He’s only realized recently that the way Symeon treated him wasn’t normal for a Dom-sub relationship.”

“Symeon is a piece of shit. As warlocks we have even more responsibility to take care of those we love. The power takes control to a whole new level. Damon did not consent to be used like he was.”

“And yet Symeon was able to channel through him. There had to be love involved.”

“I think Damon genuinely cared for Symeon. He was too young and na?ve to recognize Symeon for the sadist he is. That man wouldn’t know love if it smacked him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper.”

Felix snorted. “If Symeon can get what he needs from the Octis Coven, he won’t be bothered about hunting Damon down.”

“He’ll be safe with us.” Nathaniel rolled his shoulders, listening to his joints pop. “I’m more concerned about convincing him to stay.”

“You want him.”

It wasn’t a question and Nathaniel couldn’t deny it. Damon was exactly his type. “Yes.”

Felix shook his head. “That boy has trouble written all over him. I suggest you invest in some sturdy handcuffs and a leash.”

Nathaniel blinked.

“Ah, you already have them, I suppose?”

“It’s always good to be prepared.” Nathaniel grinned. “Damon’s been moping around the house for two weeks now. He’s drifting. Time to take him in hand.”

“Good luck with that.” Felix’s expression was dubious. “If you want him productively employed, I’m intending to clean out the garage this afternoon. I could use some help.”

“You could eat off the floor in there,” Nathaniel commented.

“Which is why it needs scrubbing to keep it that way.”

Nathaniel wasn’t going to argue. The cars and garages were Felix’s domain.

It was more than his life was worth to interfere with either.

Felix gave him a brief wave before disappearing to his world of crankshafts and carburetors.

Nathaniel set his glass next to the sink then set off to find his house guest.

He had installed Damon in one of several large guestrooms, one with its own attached bathroom.

Damon hadn’t ventured out very much. He showed up on time to eat.

He seemed clean and tidy—helped by the few clothes and toiletries Felix had supplied—but there was an air of melancholy about him.

Nathaniel tapped on Damon’s door but didn’t wait for a response before entering.

Damon was lying on his bed wearing a pair of faded jeans and a snug black T-shirt.

His feet were bare and his dark hair needed combing.

He scrambled from the bed, face bleaching white.

“I…I’m sorry, Sir.” Damon’s voice shook.

“Sorry for what?” Nathaniel asked. “I’m not aware that you have anything to apologize for.”

“I just… You don’t seem to want me around. I’ll leave as soon as I pack. Not that I’ve got anything to put my things in.” He glanced around the room, seeming panicked.

“You don’t get away from me that easily,” Nathaniel said. “I apologize. I thought giving you some space for a while would help you settle in and clearly I’ve achieved the opposite.”

“I’m not used to having my own room, Sir. Symeon made me sleep at the foot of his bed, unless he wanted… Well, unless he…”

Nathaniel held up a hand. “No need to explain. You’re quite safe here. No one is going to make you do anything you don’t consent to. I won’t invade your room again without your invitation.”

“It’s your house, Sir.” Damon stared at his bare toes.

“Yours too, while you stay here. You’re free to leave at any time, Damon, but I would prefer that you stay. I think I can give you what you need, if you’ll allow it.”

“I’ve not had choices before, Sir. I find things easier if someone tells me what to do.”

“That’s not at all surprising for a natural submissive.

You should still be involved in decisions made on your behalf.

I think it might be helpful if we drew up a contract.

One we both agree to.” Nathaniel didn’t attempt to get any closer to Damon, much as he wanted to hold him and provide some comfort.

“It helps that you know what I am. Being a warlock is not a simple thing to explain to a prospective partner.”

Damon’s face flushed a pretty shade of rose. “You don’t hate me, Sir?”

“I don’t know you, but I’d like to. I have a feeling we’ll be compatible and I’d like to explore that, if you’re willing.”

“Yes! I mean, I think I’d like that too.”

Nathaniel hid a smile. Damon was transparent as crystal. “Very well. Then let’s go downstairs, make ourselves comfortable and have a chat about what it is you need.” Nathaniel pinned Damon with a stern look. “Don’t bother with shoes and take your shirt off.”

Damon’s pupils dilated until black almost covered the dark gray of his irises. Nathaniel headed for the stairs, not checking if Damon did as he’d been ordered. It was quite clear to him that the boy needed to be taken care of—the craving for affection shone in his pretty eyes.

Nathaniel chose a corner of his huge sectional couch where Damon could elect to sit next to him or keep some space between them.

He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles.

Damon hesitated at the door then padded across the room.

He paused in front of Nathaniel then sank gracefully to his knees.

“I’m impressed, Damon, but for now you can sit on the couch.

Until we have a proper agreement between us, I’m your host, not your Master.

” Damon rose then perched on the edge of the couch.

Tension was apparent in every taut muscle.

“I didn’t ask you to come down here shirtless because I wanted a chance to ogle.

You’ve been moving stiffly and I wanted to check for injuries. ”

“I’m fine,” Damon muttered, folding his arms across his chest.

“You’re bruised.” Nathaniel could see the remains of old wounds on several areas of Damon’s torso.

He wondered how much more was hidden elsewhere.

“Symeon beat you.” Damon didn’t respond, but then Nathaniel hadn’t asked a question.

“Any contract between us is going to be founded on honesty. Tell me right now if anything he did is still bothering you.”

“Not now, Sir. He… He wasn’t careful the last time he took me. He liked it rough.”

“I’m going to need to take a look, Damon. Stand up then drop your pants.”

Damon’s sigh was one of resignation rather than resistance. His pants slipped over hips that were a shade too thin. Faded yellow finger-shaped bruising was apparent on both sides of his body. There were traces of old welts on his buttocks.

“Show me.”

Damon bent, reached back and pulled his ass cheeks apart. Nathaniel didn’t touch. “There’s still some reddened skin, but I can see you’ve been taking care of yourself. I would like my doctor to give you an internal examination though. Okay, you can pull up your pants.”

“Like what you see?” Damon’s attempt at bravado fell flat.

“You’re too thin. You’ve been abused. But you do have a cute ass.

Thank you for cooperating. My intent was not to humiliate you.

If we reach an agreement, then I will require access to your body at all times.

Before you ask, that doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck you.

Your health and wellbeing will become my responsibility. Have you ever taken drugs?”

Damon finished fastening his pants. “No, Sir. Symeon didn’t allow alcohol or drugs, not even cigarettes.”

Nathaniel grunted. “That’s probably the only thing he would be able to claim as a similarity with me. I expect you to keep your body clean and healthy, inside and out.”

“But you’re not going to fuck me? You don’t want me?”

“I don’t believe I said that. But it won’t happen until you ask for it.”

“My choice?”

“Always.” Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair, a repetitive habit he realized he needed to break.

“I propose we begin with a simple contract that outlines a few rules. This is for you just as much as me, so I expect you to contribute.” He grabbed a pad from a side table then took a pen from his shirt pocket.

“I have few requirements. Honesty, obedience and a willingness to learn. I would like to give you some responsibilities around the house and Felix may also have tasks for you. You’ll follow an exercise regime and support me in my work. ”

“Symeon mentioned you worked with the winds,” Damon stated. “I don’t know much more than that.”

“I have the strongest connection with the air element. My business is in renewable energy—wind farms mainly, though not exclusively. My abilities mean I am able to ensure their maximum efficiency. A large percentage of the organization’s profits is plowed back into research.”

“But you don’t have anyone to channel through? No boyfriend?”

“No. I have learned to channel through many people at once. It’s not as effective and it’s hard work, but it does the job.”

“Maybe one day you could channel through me?” Damon suggested.