Elemental Love

by L. M. Somerton

  Dumb, selfish pride. I should have listened to Evrain. He tried to calm himself and take in his surroundings. He needed to conserve some energy and engage his brain. There were no curtains at the single barred window, which was too small for him to even consider as an escape route. If he got free, he might be able to get a look out of it and see if he recognized his surroundings. It was high, and there was nothing in the room to stand on, but if he jumped, it might be possible. From his prone position, he could still see that it was dark outside and there was heavy cloud cover, no stars or moonlight. He couldn’t have been unconscious for long.

  When Damon had brought him to the room the first time, he’d been forcibly shoved up two flights of rickety stairs. The unconventional shape of the ceiling told him it had to be the attic. That made any escape twice as hard. He’d have to get all the way back down those creaky stairs without being heard if he was to stand any chance of getting out.

  It took him about half an hour of skin-abrading agony to loosen the ropes around his wrists. He shook them off, then had to wait for a moment as his tortured muscles returned to life with a vengeance, sending spikes of pain through his shoulders. When the throbbing subsided to a dull ache, he tackled the bindings around his ankles. Damon could tie a damn good knot and it took a while to tease it loose but Dominic had nothing better to do. He unwound the rope and threw it to one side, then stood up and stretched. He rubbed the bits of his body that had been in contact with the hard, planked floor and gave thanks that he didn’t have an ass full of splinters. He tested the door just in case Damon had been so complacent that he’d left it unlocked, but despite his careful tugging on the handle, it remained firmly closed.

  There was so little light that he could only feel his way around the walls. Jumping to see out of the window showed him nothing but treetops. He decided his best option was to sit tight and wait for Damon to return. He was sure it would happen sooner or later—the little worm hadn’t had nearly enough fun with him yet. Damon clearly relished the chance to be the abuser rather than the abused for a change.

  Dominic didn’t have to wait long before he heard the stairs creak. He sat back against the wall, laid the length of rope over his ankles and put his hands behind his back so that it would look as if he was still restrained. He listened as a key grated in the lock, a surge of excitement rushing through him. This could be his chance to get away. Damon’s silhouette appeared in the doorway. Dominic let his head hang forward and remained still. Damon paused, as if listening for noises from the floors below, then moved into the room. He switched on a powerful torch and shone it directly into Dominic’s face.

  “Symeon made you even prettier, didn’t he? He wants you for himself, but I’m going to have you first.” Damon nudged Dominic’s bare foot.

  Dominic gave up any pretense of being asleep. “Did Symeon send you?”

  “I’m not his puppet. I have a mind of my own,” Damon snapped.

  “So this little visit is unsanctioned? You really are an idiot, aren’t you? Touch me and you’ll have two warlocks lining up to annihilate you. Do you have a death wish or something?”

  “Maybe I do,” Damon said. He started fumbling with his fly, cursing before putting the torch down to use both hands. Dominic took his chance. He dove forward, grabbed the torch then surged to his feet. He shone the bright light straight into Damon’s startled eyes and kneed him in the groin with strength powered by hours of ill treatment.

  Damon crumpled instantly into a fetal position, clutching his groin with a squeal. Dominic felt no sympathy—the little shit had been planning to rape him. He raised the torch and gave Damon a firm knock on the back of the head, not hard enough for permanent damage, but enough to ensure that he wouldn’t be interfering for a while. Dominic told himself that it was the merciful thing to do. Unconscious, Damon wouldn’t be able to feel his bruised balls.

  Dominic crept silently down the stairs, moving as quickly as possible. The light Damon had left on was harsh, coming from a single bare bulb suspended above the stairwell. Dominic guessed that it had to be three or four in the morning. Symeon, if he was in the house, should be asleep and even if he woke, surely he’d think Damon responsible for any noise. Dominic guessed that Symeon and Damon didn’t share a bed. Damon would never have risked his illicit trip to the attic if that were the case.

  Dominic had to try to find some clothes—if he could discover a way out of the house he could hardly run for help naked, although he would certainly do it if there were no other option. On the next floor down, he discovered a bathroom and recognized the ache in his bladder. He made quick use of the facilities, then took a few gulps of water at the sink. He rubbed his wet hand over his face. The cold water certainly made him feel more alert. He caught sight of his reflection in the cracked mirror over the sink. Even in the dim light from the landing he could see that his hair was much longer, unfamiliar dark red waves tumbling past his shoulders. His eyelashes seemed thicker, his eyes a shade brighter. Despite the time that had passed he was still completely clean-shaven—there was no sign of stubble at all. In fact his face felt smooth and soft when he touched his skin. He examined himself with increasing horror as he realized that Symeon had done exactly what he’d said he would. South of his eyes there wasn’t a single hair left on Dominic’s body.

  Nausea roiled in the pit of his stomach. Symeon’s casual abuse of his body was a violation of the worst kind. His heart pounded. If Symeon could do this to him with such ease, what else was he capable of? Dominic had to get out, and fast. He shouldn’t have stopped. He forgot about searching for clothes and headed down the next flight of stairs as quickly as he could. Every tiny creak sounded like thunder but he reached the hall without incident and the threadbare runner muffled his steps.

  There was less light here. Damon had turned on only the single bulb and that was high above. In the dim light, Dominic felt the front door with anxious fingertips. There were two bolts, one at the top and another at the base of the door. Working them back took an age. When he twisted the handle, the door still wouldn’t open. His heart fell. He’d have to try to find his way to the rear of the property and seek another exit.

  “Did you really think I would rely on manmade devices to keep this place secure? The metal is fused, as it is on every other external door. Only I can release it. There’s no way out,” Symeon’s smug voice sounded behind him as the hall flooded with light.

  Dominic pressed himself back against the wall in despair—he’d been so close.

  “I do hope you haven’t permanently damaged Damon. He does have his uses.” Symeon didn’t seem overly concerned.

  Right on cue, Damon staggered down the stairs behind Symeon. He lunged toward Dominic, only to freeze in place.

  “I will keep my overenthusiastic little friend away from you if you come with me quietly. If not, I’ll ensure that you are unable to move as he does whatever he wants to you.” Symeon tapped his ever-present cane on the floor.

  Dominic knew when he was beaten. He allowed Symeon to handcuff him and didn’t resist as he was firmly gagged and prodded with the cane while he climbed the stairs back to the attic. Symeon closed the door with a gloating smile, and Dominic sank to the floor. The key turned in the lock, leaving him in darkness once again. A single tear rolled down his face as he fought to control his emotions and beat back his sense of utter despair.

  * * * *

  Dawn found Evrain pacing up and down in front of the fire. After searching for Dominic’s truck, he’d returned home even more unsettled. Dominic had told him he was okay, but it looked as if the truck had hit quite hard when it had crashed. Now Evrain was concerned that Dominic might have serious injuries. He had found Dominic’s phone and accessed the pictures he’d taken. The house was just as Dominic had described but Evrain could tell that it was disguised by a glamor spell. There was a slight glow outlining the edges of the building that would have been invisible to anyone but him or another warlock. He yearned to take Symeon apart piece
by bloody piece. The man was a menace. He used his powers solely for his own benefit, something that went against everything Evrain’s grandmother and Gregory had drilled into him since he’d come of age.

  “You should never use your abilities to harm another, no matter the provocation,” Gregory had lectured him one day. “There is always a cost for such action.”

  “What kind of cost?” Evrain had asked, imagining withering away like the old man in Coven, one of his favorite films.

  “Your own peace of mind. Use your power for harm and it will eat away at you for the rest of your life. You can defend yourself if the occasion arises, protect what’s yours, but use your imagination. There are ways to achieve your goals without directly attacking another.”

  At the time, Evrain had been dubious. Now, with the man he loved in mortal danger, he could picture spearing Symeon Malus’ corrupt body with a lightning bolt without the slightest hint of guilt. Dominic was his, body and soul, he could feel the strength of their connection even in his absence. Their one night together had melded their destinies with a seal stronger than forged iron and Evrain couldn’t imagine the pain of losing him.

  He froze as a knock sounded on the door, firm and determined, then relaxed as he realized that the wards around the cottage would have warned him about an unwelcome visitor. He flung open the door with a thought and managed a shaky smile for the two men that entered.

  “I always knew that being your godfather would get me into trouble,” Gregory said.

  Evrain accepted his warm embrace gratefully. Gregory didn’t change. The silver in his hair glinted in the firelight but his dark eyes still sparkled with vitality.

  “Aggie reckoned you were a handful. Too bright for your own good and far too pretty. You do favor her in her youth…” Gregory sounded a little wistful as he turned to his companion.

  “He does,” Coryn agreed.

  Evrain gave Gregory’s husband an enthusiastic hug. “Coryn! Thank you so much for coming… I hoped… But this isn’t your fight. You got on a plane for me?” Tears welled in Evrain’s eyes. The tension of the previous twelve hours broke through the dam of his resolve.

  Short iron-gray hair bristled above sharp blue eyes, the lines around them crinkling in sympathy. “You’re my godson just as much as Gregory’s. And anyway, I was hardly going to let him have all the fun without me!” Coryn gazed at his partner with the gentle affection of a relationship that had spanned four decades.

  “I just hope that Dominic and I get the chance to spend as many years together as you two have. I can’t bear to think about what Symeon might be doing to him.”

  “Well, that’s why we’re here—to make sure that you have a long and happy, uneventful life together! I can’t wait to meet the man who has captured your heart. Aggie waxed lyrical about him on more than one occasion and I am most peeved that Gregory already got to meet him when I haven’t. He must be very special.” Coryn took Gregory’s hand.

  “Grandma saw Dominic and me as partners long before we even met, Coryn, but her intuition was spot on. I loved him from the first moment I set eyes on him.”

  “How did he react to discovering your…heritage?” Coryn asked with a slight smile.

  “He dug over the entire vegetable patch in a rain storm. I think it’s safe to say that he had a bit of difficulty processing the whole concept for a while. Aggie being a witch he had no problem with. He knows you’re a warlock too, Gregory, just not that you’re significantly more powerful than me.”

  Gregory raised an eyebrow. “Only because I can channel through Coryn. I can feel the power in you, untapped and unrealized. It’s enormous. Far greater than my own. You haven’t channeled yet, have you?”

  “No. Dominic knows what it is, what it means, but I don’t want to hurt him. I have more control just from being near him, that’s enough.”

  “Oh, Evrain, your concern for him does you credit, but sooner or later you will have to channel,” Gregory said. “You won’t be able to stop yourself, and you shouldn’t. We are lucky, you and I, to have found such strong men to love. If he loves you as much, Dominic will understand. If he is as strong as I suspect he is, he will be able to handle the pain.” Gregory kissed Coryn’s cheek.

  “It’s not that bad,” Coryn said. “I barely feel a thing now, I think I’ve become immune over the years. Gregory’s power is so much a part of me—I’d feel odd if he ever stopped channeling now. Dominic will accept it, just as he accepts you.”

  Much as he hated to admit it, Evrain knew in his heart that Gregory’s words were true. The urge to channel was virtually irresistible. He would worry about that later, though—for now he had to think about how they could free Dominic and put Symeon back in his box once and for all.

  He made a pile of toast and a huge pot of coffee. The three of them sat around the kitchen table. Evrain went back over everything he knew. It seemed ridiculously domestic but the normality helped to relax Evrain. Just having Coryn and Gregory with him helped him be more optimistic that things would come out in their favor. For his own sanity he had to believe that it would not be long before Dominic was back in his arms.

  The sun was well risen when the phone rang. Evrain answered the call and gave a slight nod to Gregory’s mouthed, “Stay calm.”

  He was no longer alone—seeing Coryn and Gregory together gave him strength and the patience he would need to deal with Symeon.

  “Yes?”

  “Were you expecting someone else to call, whelp?”

  “Charming as always, Symeon.” He kept his voice calm and controlled. “Why don’t you cut to the chase and tell me where you want to meet?”

  “So eager to abase yourself. That pleases me. Do you not want to know how your troublesome boyfriend is this morning?”

  “I would rather see him than talk about him.”

  “Keeping him under control has proved to be something of a challenge. He is rather…spirited. I would have thought that you would prefer someone a little more compliant.”

  “There is little satisfaction in a tame pet, Symeon. You should know that.”

  Symeon laughed but the sound was harsh and bitter. “Damon serves his purpose, and he does have a remarkably talented mouth, when he isn’t using it for speech.”

  Evrain winced at the image. “You said you wanted me. I will exchange myself for Dominic but I want your word as a warlock that you will allow him to go free.” Evrain gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles went white.

  “My word as a warlock. How quaint.” Symeon paused. “Very well, I will bow to your antiquated sense of honor and give my word. Dominic will be freed if you come with me without resistance. Is this agreeable to you?”

  “Where and when do we meet?” Evrain asked.

  “Do you know the clearing in Belsevere Wood? It’s known as Inkcap Glade. It’s not far from you.”

  “I know it.” Evrain had been there many times with Aggie—it was her favorite place for gathering unusual fungi. It was a damp, moss-covered clearing in the ancient oak woodland less than a mile from Hornbeam Cottage. “When?”

  “Midnight. Don’t be late.” Symeon rang off before Evrain could say anything further.

  For a moment no one spoke. Gregory and Coryn looked at Evrain expectantly.

  “Midnight. Inkcap Glade.”

  Gregory gave a small smile. “Symeon always did err toward the melodramatic. However, this time it works to our advantage. If you can stick to your role as nice, tasty bait, it will be easy for Coryn and I to get into position unseen.”

  Evrain nodded and ran a hand through his hair with a tired sigh. “I just want this to be over. I want Dominic back so I can lock him up somewhere nice and safe.”

  Coryn chuckled. He laid a comforting hand on Evrain’s shoulder. “You should get some rest. I don’t suppose you slept at all last night?”

  “I couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined the most terrible things.” Evrain blinked. He had to believe Dominic was o
kay or he’d lose his mind.

  “This should help.” Gregory sprinkled a pinch of dark powder into the remains of Evrain’s drink. “Go to bed. You’re useless to us if you are too exhausted to think straight. We’ll wake you in plenty of time.”

  “Okay.” Evrain swallowed the last of his tea with a grimace. “Ugh! That’s disgusting!”

  Gregory laughed. “You’ve gotten too used to Aggie’s pampering, boy. Once this little problem is resolved, you and I are going to have a long discussion about your future and how best to continue your training. That’s my price for helping you out. Agreed?”

  Evrain scowled as he headed toward the stairs. “Agreed.”

  Coryn rolled his eyes. “Bribery, Gregory? Don’t you think the boy’s under enough pressure as it is?” His eyes twinkled with humor.

  “He needs discipline. You can feel the power in him as well as I, my love. Aggie gave him a good start but he needs to be trained by a warlock.”

  “Well, the lad has my sympathy.” Coryn turned back to the sink.

  Evrain didn’t know what to make of that. He gave Gregory a suspicious glance but his godfather’s features betrayed nothing.

  “Keep the bracelet on while you sleep, Evrain. You’re less likely to drop the place into a hole in the ground that way.”

  “Got it. No dreaming about earthquakes or sink holes, much as I’d like to dump Symeon into a big chasm and close it slowly.” Evrain climbed the stairs, muttering to himself. He didn’t know what Gregory had put in his drink, but it was already taking effect. His head was full of wool and the lure of sleep was strong.