Chapter Six

 

 

 

It had been almost three weeks since the gathering at the cottage. Returning a couple of days after the initial get together, Nathaniel and Gregory had declared their decision to let matters lie for a while. They needed to draw Symeon out. Give him enough rope to hang himself, or at least to trip over and fall on his face.

Evrain mulled this over as he lay in bed resisting the need to get up. He still wasn’t comfortable being used as bait. If it had just been him he’d have been all for it, but Dominic was a different matter. He wanted Dominic safe. He sighed. He had to travel to the office so abandoning the soft warmth of his bed was mandatory.

“Stop thinking so much and get up,” Dominic mumbled.

Evrain gave him a quick smack on the behind but swung his legs out of bed. He dressed quickly then headed downstairs. Dominic, clad in just his jeans, padded after him.

“The warm weather does have some advantages.” Evrain leered at his boyfriend. “Shame I don’t have time to take full advantage.” He glanced toward the door from his seat at the kitchen table. He frowned then shook his head. “Must be imagining things.” He went back to reading the detailed brief spread in front of him on the table.

“Imagining what?” Dominic strolled over carrying two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. He put one in front of Evrain.

“Thought I heard scratching at the door. We probably have mice.”

Dominic sipped his juice. He cocked his head to one side. “Can’t hear anything.”

As if to give the lie to his words, there was a loud scrabbling at the door.

“I heard that.”

“Can’t be dangerous, the wards haven’t been disturbed.”

“So you want me to take a look?” Dominic fiddled with the star pendant nestled in the hollow of his throat.

“I suppose so. I don’t sense any danger.” Evrain continued reading. “I have to get through all this before I head in to the office. Should have done it last night but you distracted me.” Evrain grinned at Dominic’s affronted stare.

“You know, I’ll be glad when Gregory’s back to resume your training. I seem to recall reminding you last night about that brief. I ended up gagged and tied to the bed.”

“You were talking too much,” Evrain said. He closed his eyes, picturing the image of Dominic, lean limbs spread, strapped down for his pleasure.

“You… You… Oh, I give up.” Dominic marched over to the door. He yanked it open, then stood there for a moment.

Curious, Evrain craned to see. “What is it?”

Dominic took a step back. “It’s for you.”

Holding back a sigh, Evrain shoved his chair back then walked over to the door. Sitting front and center on the step was a fat, long-haired black cat. He stared at the animal. The cat stared back, bright green eyes unblinking.

“I thought witch’s cats were supposed to be lean and slinky,” Dominic commented. “This one has been scoffing too many mice. And it has more fluff than a woolly mammoth.”

The cat turned its gaze on Dominic, managing to come across as mortally wounded.

“I’m a warlock, not a witch,” Evrain muttered. “And how do you know it’s here for me? Probably just wandered away from its owners.”

“You don’t believe that for a minute. How many cats show up at a front door then scratch to be let in?”

“So why is it just sitting there?”

“Perhaps it’s waiting to be invited inside and I can’t believe I just said that.” Dominic went back to the kitchen table. He sat then sipped his juice.

“Do you want to come in?” Evrain asked the cat, which sashayed past him into the cottage. “Fuck, I’m talking to an animal as if it’s human. I’m losing it.” He shut the door. The cat paused, licked a paw then leapt into one of the armchairs next to the fireplace, curled up then closed its eyes. Purring, loud enough to shake the foundations, started up.

At a loss, Evrain turned to Dominic.

“Don’t look at me. Seems like we’ve acquired a new housemate.” Dominic shrugged.

“But where did it come from? I grew up with dogs. I have no idea how to take care of a cat.”

“I imagine it’s fairly self-sufficient. Can’t say I’ve much experience with supernatural animals either—and I’m assuming that this one isn’t anywhere close to being normal. I like cats, though.”

He might have imagined it but Evrain thought the purring grew even louder. “She might not stay.”

“How do you know she’s a she?” Dominic asked.

“Oh…I don’t. She feels like a female.”

Dominic gave him a quizzical look.

Exasperated, Evrain shrugged. “I can sense it. She’s…content.”

“You’re vacuuming up her fluff when she sheds everywhere.”

“You’re being very accommodating,” Evrain said.

“Why fight it? Even I get the feeling she’s going nowhere. There must be a reason for her being here and she wouldn’t have made it across your wards if she presented any danger. She’s cute.”

Evrain examined the pile of dark fur ensconced in his favorite chair. “Then I suppose we’d better give her a name.” The cat opened one eye. An ear twitched.

“What do warlocks’ cats normally get called?”

Evrain could tell that Dominic was holding back a laugh. “How the hell should I know?” He tried to get a sense of identity from the cat. “I don’t think she has a name yet.”

“Well, she’s black—how about Sooty?” An indignant yowl came from the chair. “Maybe not.”

“Hmm, what about Shadow?” Evrain approached the cat. He stroked its soft head. “What do you think about that? Suitably mysterious?” The cat butted his hand. “Seems like that meets with approval.” More loud purrs answered him.

“Good to know someone has control over you.” Dominic chuckled. “She’s been here less than five minutes and you’re already her obedient slave.”

“You want to spend the next week in chastity?”

Shadow rolled onto her back. She began to groom herself as if losing all interest in the conversation.

“You’ll have to buy cat food while you’re in town today.” Dominic ignored the threat that was more of a promise. “And she’ll need grooming every day with all that fur, so pick up a brush too.”

Evrain checked his watch. “Damn! I need to go. You’re working here today, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Dominic nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on the fur ball. There’s probably a tin of tuna in the cupboard. That will keep her going for a while. Perhaps I should think about planting some catnip.”

“You think this is all highly amusing, don’t you?” Evrain grabbed his car keys.

“Sure do.”

“Enjoy yourself while you can. Check out the gates of hell on the internet. It’s time you had a lesson in mythology.”

Evrain gathered up his paperwork then headed for the door.

He sauntered along the lane, taking his time despite the cool mist, which was thick enough that he couldn’t see far into the trees on either side of the path. The usual lines of the trunks were smudged like a charcoal drawing, the edges softened and blurred. It appealed to his designer’s eye. Three weeks and nothing’s happened. Perhaps Octis have decided we’re not worth the effort. Dominic had been working with his regular clients and hadn’t seen any more strange women lurking or watching him. Evrain worked from home some days but still went to the office several times a week and he hadn’t seen anything suspicious either. He shrugged. The status quo suited him just fine for now. If the biggest adventure of the week was having a peculiar, overweight cat show up at his door, so be it. Must give Gregory a call about that later. I don’t remember him saying anything about pushy felines. There was plenty to be said for domestic harmony, especially with Dominic to get home to.

He hummed as he walked, planning a trip to a great toyshop he had discovered in Portland that stocked some unusual bespoke items. Dominic was probably researching the gates of hell on the internet already. Knowing him he’d be wondering why Evrain had an interest in Rodin’s sculpture or one of the various places around the world depicted as an entranceway to hell. Evrain’s actual interest lay in a particular set of evil steel rings that he wanted to see around Dominic’s pretty cock.

Juggling his phone, papers and keys, Evrain staggered then fell as a metaphysical hammer slammed into his senses. He clutched at his head, pain stabbing into his skull. He reached for his power but found nothing but impenetrable blackness. Through knives stabbing the back of his eyeballs, he registered that he’d been blocked. He fought back the wave of panic threatening to consume him but it was hard to breathe. The blackness closed in.

Moisture seeping through his clothes was the first thing Evrain became aware of. The cold penetrated at his hip and along one arm. His hair was wet and twigs dug into his cheek. It took him a few moments to work out where he was. He was still on the path between the cottage and his car. With an effort he got to his knees, though weakness threatened to send him head first into the dirt once more. Casting around, he could see no sign of either his keys or his phone. His papers were a scattered, soggy mess on the path. He swallowed, trying to get some moisture back into his mouth, which was dry as dust. There was some kind of restriction around his throat. Tentatively he brought his fingers up to touch and found a metal collar locked around his neck. He tugged at it, succeeding only in making deep grooves in his fingertips. He couldn’t see it to identify what metal it was made of but he guessed it was something pure enough to maintain the block on his power, because when he reached for the elements he felt nothing.

“You fucking idiot!” He couldn’t believe how complacent and careless he’d been. He spent so much time nagging Dominic about being careful to the point of paranoia yet had failed to even keep a cursory eye out for danger himself. Self-flagellation was pointless. He needed to focus because Symeon Malus had to be close. The question was, why was Evrain alone on the path when Symeon could easily have transported him somewhere while he was unconscious? What kind of sadistic game was Symeon playing?

A rustling in the trees attracted Evrain’s attention. Through the mist, which he now guessed might not be natural, he could make out two glowing red points of light. He glanced around. There was no way he was leading anyone or anything back to the cottage. More red spots appeared through the gloom and he could make out the rough outlines of large doglike shapes. There was a snarl. Leaves shivered. It seemed Symeon wasn’t satisfied with a straightforward victory. All Evrain could think about was Dominic and how vulnerable he was back at the cottage. Symeon had been there before. He knew where it was. Evrain had to get as far away as possible.

He staggered to his feet, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his vision. He pivoted then ran into the trees on the opposite side of the path. He had no idea where he was going, just that it had to be in the opposite direction to the cottage. He had to make sure that Dominic stayed safe. His leg muscles ached as he twisted and turned amongst the trees, ducking the groping branches, leaping over knotted roots set to trip him. The mist seemed to thicken but perhaps it was just his eyesight blurring. Then he went down as a stabbing pain clawed at his thigh. He ignored the hot wetness of his blood and ran again, as fast as he was able.

His feet sank into a thick layer of mulch. Clumps of mud and sodden leaves kicked up from his heels at every step. His lungs heaved with the effort of running. Lurching to a halt, he placed a hand on the nearest, moss-clad trunk and tried to listen across the pounding thump of his heartbeat. Nothing. He took a few desperate, ragged breaths. He had no illusions that his pursuers had given up the chase. A hungry howl in the distance confirmed what he already knew.

Evrain debated the point of running on. Symeon and his wolves, or whatever they were, would catch up to him sooner or later. His legs were already burning and the warm stickiness of the wound in his thigh would provide a nicely scented trail. Dominic’s face filled his mind. He had to keep running for as long as he could. The mist dissipated and instead heavy rain came down in a deluge, adding to his misery.

“Just great.” Evrain pushed sweat-dampened hair out of his eyes. “Perfect.” He ran. He could hear his pursuers closing in, howls splitting the air. He stumbled to a halt again, catching the gleam of red eyes to one side and then the other. There was nowhere left to go. He backed against a tree, though it afforded little protection. He might be beaten but Symeon would not find him groveling on his knees in the mud. He squared his shoulders and closed his eyes, picturing the beautiful face of his lover, dark red waves framing creamy skin, soft lips and bright blue eyes. It was too late for regrets. He blinked. Eyes burned malevolent crimson in the murk. A hand grasped his shoulder, long black nails sinking into his flesh through the fabric of his saturated shirt. It took all his courage not to cringe as a smooth, gloating voice whispered in his ear, “Finally, Evrain, we meet again. You cannot imagine how much I have looked forward to this moment.”

“Fuck you, Symeon.” Evrain shook off the other warlock’s hand. “What was this game of hide and seek all about?”

“You made things too easy for me. I didn’t want to deny myself the joy of the hunt. Especially with such…delicious prey.” Symeon raked a long nail down Evrain’s cheek, leaving a burning line in its wake.

“Only you could be so desperate as to sell your soul to the Octis Coven.” Symeon’s eyes narrowed. Evrain laughed. “Yes, we know what you’re up to.”

“And yet here you are with my collar around your neck, blocked from your power.”

“You’re impotent, Symeon—I saw to that, remember? Whatever those bitches are feeding you will wear off and when your power fades, I’ll be ready. You’re pathetic.”

Red lightning danced around Symeon’s hand. “Watch your tongue, boy, there’s no one here to help you this time. Be nice to me or I’m going to hurt you in ways your limited mind couldn’t even begin to imagine.”

“At least my mind isn’t clouded by hate, Symeon. You see no further than your own need for revenge. When the bitches have what they want they will discard you like the trash you are.”

“You arrogant little shit!”

Flashes of red light stabbed into Evrain’s body. He convulsed with pain, falling to his knees. Symeon grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. “When Octis is done with you, you’re mine, Evrain, and I can’t wait to make you suffer. And when you are all used up, I’ll be going after that sweet redhead of yours. He and I have unfinished business.”

“I let you off lightly last time, you psychopath. I won’t be so considerate again.”

Symeon raised his hand. Evrain could do nothing to avoid the blow and a brief flash of red was followed by darkness.