Page 27 of Elemental Hope (Warlocks #2)

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, so Dominic 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.

He wasn’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.

“We need to go.”

“Sure. Let’s get out of here,” Evrain agreed. “Imelda can deal with what’s left of Symeon.”

Dominic got back into the van, sliding across to sit next to Damon. Evrain climbed in next to him before slamming the door shut.

“Kissing? Really? You think we have time for that?” Damon snarked. He put the van in drive then headed for the exit ramp.

“For someone who was just supposedly stabbed, you’re remarkably talkative,” Evrain replied. “And opinionated. Brat.”

Dominic glanced from Evrain to Damon and back again. They were both grinning. He sighed. “Can we please just get out of here? I really don’t want to spend any more time in Imelda’s company and she can’t be far behind us.”

Damon drove toward the exit door but it didn’t open.

“Fuck. She’s locked down the building. Evrain—can you do something about it?”

“My pleasure.”

This time Dominic felt the discomfort as Evrain channeled his power.

He gathered the air into a spinning whirlwind then threw it against the door.

The metal panel blasted outward. Damon revved the engine then tore up the ramp.

He skidded into the street and the van filled with the smell of burning rubber.

Emerging from the underground parking garage into the light of a sunny afternoon was blinding. Dominic blinked into the sun and tried to get his bearings, surrounded as they were by anonymous office blocks.

“You were right,” Evrain said. “We’re in Portland.”

“You didn’t know?” Damon asked.

“I was unconscious when I was brought here,” Evrain explained. “Dominic was drugged too. We made an educated guess.”

Damon glanced in the rear view mirror. “We don’t have a tail yet.” He took one hand off the wheel to grope in his pocket. He tossed a phone toward Dominic. “Can you call Nathaniel?”

“Sure.”

“There’s no password. His is the only number. It’s just a cheap burner phone he got me in case I ran into trouble. I wasn’t able to get word to him about the location of the building but he’s probably not far away.” He wended his way through the traffic and eventually found the route out of town.

Dominic handed the phone to Evrain. “Probably best you speak to Nathaniel. I’ll see if there’s anything in the back of the van that you can wear.” He scrambled over the seat into the rear cargo space.

Evrain dialed the single number in Damon’s directory.

“Nathaniel?” He put the loudspeaker on.

“Yes. Evrain, is that you? Where’s Damon?”

“He’s driving. He gave me his phone.”

“And Dominic? You’re all okay?”

“We’re all intact. Damon’s on the list for best actor at this year’s Oscars.”

“We’ll reconvene at your place. I’ll let Gregory and Coryn know. We need to employ some delaying tactics on Imelda and her cronies. That might get us some respite to plan our next move.”

“Don’t have too much fun.” Evrain hung up.

“What are they gonna do?” Damon asked.

“Cause some mayhem, I imagine.”

Dominic clambered into the front seat. “Here. I found an old workman’s jacket in the back.

” He wrapped it around Evrain’s bare shoulders.

It wasn’t that cold but Evrain was shivering.

“Are you okay?” Dominic’s voice was edged with concern as he took in the black hollows beneath Evrain’s eyes and the blood streaking his hands and arms.

“I’ll survive. It’s all my fault we’re in this mess, so don’t waste your sympathy on me.”

Dominic gave an exasperated sigh. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s hardly your fault that a coven of psychotic witches and a junkie warlock are after your blood.” He giggled, a little hysterical. “That sounds insane.”