Chapter 13
“Your message was received, Mr. Gentry.”
Malcolm turned to face the woman in the doorway. “Tell me, was he distraught?”
“I would say so. One of his employees even passed out.”
Malcolm smiled. “Good.”
“I would say he is going to be feeling the effects of this one for a while. Your wife does good work.”
“Yes, she enjoys it.” It was true, there was little Lindsay Gentry enjoyed more than the power that came with taking life. “Keep an eye on things and let me know if it changes.”
“You got it.” She left the room, and Malcolm pulled the garnet necklace from his safe. He cradled it in his palm gently and smiled.
Soon everything would be in place, and he would be one step closer to achieving his goals.
It was strange, he had worried before that once he was this close, he would feel less excited, that it would be anticlimactic.
But instead, he was giddy with the wonderment that he would one day have everything he’d dreamed about.
That soon, everything his father had once dreamt of would be within Malcolm’s grasp.
“Who has the power now?” he wondered aloud to the empty room.
His door opened, and Lindsay stepped in.
“I’m told your work was exceptional, my love,” he greeted her.
“It always is.” She grinned.
“Did she put up much of a fight?”
“No, she begged. It was pathetic really. Boring almost.” She pouted and took a seat in his lap. “I’m told we have a lead on that item you’ve been searching for.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“But we are going to need to head to London tonight.”
Anticipation burned in his mind. “I believe our guest can benefit from one last drain before we depart.” He stood, and taking the garnet with him, headed out into the hall. “Have Eduardo file a fake flight plan to Scotland.”
“You got it, baby.” She pressed a hard kiss to his lips and headed downstairs.
As Malcolm made his way towards Paislee’s room, he reflected on their mutual past.
Since the moment he saw the little red-haired girl following her father around the museum, Malcolm had been intrigued. She was fiery, much in the way his little sister had been before her accident.
It had been that tragedy that had turned him to magic in the first place. He had taken the job at the museum to try and get his hands on the gemstone, but he hadn’t found a possible power source just yet, so he’d left the gem there and watched, hoping that it would draw the eye of a witch.
He wouldn’t have even considered that witch would be a child. He’d tried on numerous occasions to get the little girl alone so he could capture a fraction of her power to heal his broken sister.
But her father had watched her far too closely after her first reaction to the necklace. Malcolm grimaced at the memory of what followed, his sister died, trapped in her body and unable to speak before he’d managed to get the little brat.
Now though, she was his. His little battery, his magical creature.
“Paislee, it’s good to see you awake.” He nodded to his guards, and they opened the door.
“Please just leave me alone!” she screamed and kicked at them, scratched, and made him hard while she did it.
Not because he wanted her in the typical way a man wanted a woman, but because the power she gave him with her fear was more than he could have ever asked for.
The guards slammed her to the ground just inside her cage, and he pulled the gem out of his pocket. They extended just her fingers beyond the safety of the iron bars, and she screamed in agony as the gem began absorbing the magic her body had created.
He watched, fascinated, as the color of her hair and skin dimmed as nearly every drop of magic was ripped from her body.
Before he drained her completely, he certainly didn’t want to kill his battery, he pocketed the gem.
Unable to move, she lay there while the blood dripped from her nose and ears, and all he could do was smile.
Because she’d refused to help him all those years ago, he was taking full advantage of her now.
* * *
“Timothy, we may have a window.” Ashton burst into his office.
“What is it?” Timothy shot to his feet.
“My contact who’s been watching the house says that Gentry, his wife, and over a dozen guards just left the premises.”
“Timothy grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t know how big of a window we’re going to have.”
“We don’t need much,” he responded quickly. “Just enough.”
They walked down to the alley where four black sedans were waiting.
“Here.” Ashton handed Timothy another weapon, and Timothy stuck it into his waistband where his usual .45 was sitting.
“Call the airstrip and get me a private plane ready.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Once we get out of there and Malcolm realizes we have her, he’s going to be breathing down our necks. We need to make sure we can keep her away from him until we’ve got something more on him.”
“Good point.” Ashton made the call, telling the pilot (another one of his security guards) to file a false flight plan sending them to Paris.
“Another thing, I’m going to need you to watch the cat.”
“You got it.”
They pulled up in an alley near the house and filed out of the sedans. Ashton had assembled fifteen men all carrying assault rifles.
Ashton nodded as another man, clad in black, walked towards them. “You’ve got three men patrolling the grounds, and I would estimate another dozen inside.”
Ashton nodded. “Thank you, Padfield. Keep watch and radio us if you see anyone coming.”
“You got it,” the man responded before disappearing back into the dark.
Timothy barely listened as Ashton barked orders. He could all but feel Paislee on the other side of those walls, and his body was primed for war if that’s what it meant to bring her home to him safely.
“Ready?” Ashton asked, and Timothy nodded. “Move out.” He instructed, and the men began scaling the brick wall around the property. Timothy followed suit, and watched as the three roaming guards were dispatched by two of Ashton’s men.
Ashton kicked in the front door, and they blasted through it, not giving anyone enough time to fire on them.
Before he could even think to count, Timothy had taken down three of the twelve men inside. He continued moving towards the stairs, firing when necessary, and when he was in the clear, he bounded up to the second floor and began checking doors.
She’d said there’d been bars on her door, so instead of checking inside each room, he pushed on to the next, counting on his team to clear them for any enemies. He ripped open the last door and found bars.
“Oh, Paislee, please be okay.” He knelt to the ground where she was lying, eyes closed, blood dripping from her nose and ears. “What the fuck did he do to you?” He growled.
“Keys.” Ashton tossed Timothy a set of keys, and after trying three, he managed to unlock the iron door.
“Paislee,” he whispered and lifted her into his arms. Relief for the steady breaths she was taking was little comfort against the anger coursing through his system at the way she looked. Her hair was no longer the vibrant red it had been when he’d last seen her, but nearly a dark grey, as if she’d been drained of all color. Her skin was pale, and her lips chapped.
“We need to go,” Ashton warned, and Timothy nodded.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said and followed the men down the stairs and passing the bodies of those who’d pledged loyalty to the wrong side.
Once inside the vehicles, Timothy cradled Paislee in his lap. Ashton handed him a napkin, and he began to wipe the blood from her. It was still fresh meaning whatever had been done to her had happened only shortly before they had
arrived.
It made him wish they’d gotten there sooner.
“Where are you going?” Ashton asked.
“The less you know, the better, I’ll call you when we get there.”
“Understood.” He looked at Paislee, who still hadn’t come around. “Do you think it was the garnet? Do you think he drained her?”
Timothy nodded. “It appears that way. I want to know the moment he returns, and if you can tell me where he went, I’d like to know that as well.”
Ashton nodded in understanding. “Will you let me know how she is when she wakes up?”
“I will.”
The drive to the airstrip was short, and Timothy carrying Paislee gently, climbed into the private plane.
“Where to, Sir?” the pilot asked as soon as the cabin had been sealed.
Timothy took a deep breath. He’d given a lot of thought to where he should take Paislee. She needed now more than ever, to understand how to use her magic. Especially if Malcolm was storing up powers of his own.
There was only one person on the planet he knew he could trust with their current predicament, and he’d sworn never to speak with her again.
“Ireland,” he responded and leaned back in the seat.
* * *
Still, in the dark, Paislee tried to open her eyes. She couldn’t see anything, but she had the oddest sensation. It was almost as if she was flying, her ears popped with the change in gravity and she cried out, had she died? Was this how you went to heaven?
She mumbled something and heard a man's voice soothe her. “Paislee, I’ve got you,” he said gently, and she curled into the warmth against her body. The scent of him filled her lungs, and one name came to mind, Timothy. He’d found her.
Chapter 14
Paislee opened her eyes to the brain-splitting headache that was a magical overload. Or in her rare case, magical drain. She stared up at a rounded white ceiling, curiously. Where the hell was she?
She sat up and stretched. Okay, so she was in an airplane. Or rather, an incredibly expensive private jet.
She looked around the cabin, and when her eyes landed on Timothy, she relaxed. His back was to her, so she stood and after a momentary dizzy spell made her way over to the table.
She put her hand on his shoulder, and he jumped. When he did, her dizziness grabbed hold of her, and she started to fall, stopped only by him pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her.
She leaned against his shoulder and into the hug, grateful to be back in his protection.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted the day you were taken.” His voice was heavy and full of regret.
“I’m sorry I stormed out.”
He nodded and helped her to a chair across from him. “Hungry?”
She shook her head and pressed her hand to her throbbing forehead.
“You should be sleeping.” He stood and walked over to her.
“I don’t suppose I can take a shower, can I?”
“Can you stand?”
“I’m sure I can manage.”
He helped her to her feet, and she wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked towards the back of the plane which turned out, to her surprise, to be a master bedroom with a full bath attached.
Her head still throbbing, she made a mental note to comment on it later but didn’t want to speak now.
Timothy knelt in front of her and began untying her sneakers. She watched as he gently removed her shoes and socks.
He looked up at her. “Think you can you handle the rest?”
She nodded, afraid to speak and let lose the flood of tears already in her eyes.
He started to walk away, but when Paislee swayed and fell backward onto the bed, decided against it. “Do you want help?” he asked her gently, and she nodded.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Tears stung at her eyes as he helped her to her feet again and held her upright while she unbuttoned her pants and pulled them to just below her hips. Timothy knelt in front of her and pulled them the rest of the way off before gently setting them aside on the floor. He turned around while she finished undressing from the bed, and then handed her a towel to cover herself.
After turning the shower on to warm it up, Timothy returned to see her wrapped in a towel and staring at her feet. “Ready?” he asked, and she nodded. He helped her over to the shower and inside, but as she started to remove the towel, she began to sway again.
“Dammit,” she cried, and Timothy steadied her.
“Do you want my help?” he asked her. “I won’t look, and I can stay in my boxers.”
She nodded, so he sat her down on the toilet and stripped down to his boxers. Once he was done, he helped her back to her feet and into the shower. She tossed the towel to the ground, and he did his best to avert his eyes. He had no intention of moving in on her. She was broken, vulnerable, and in more pain than he could even fathom at the moment.
He couldn’t explain it, but he needed the closeness nearly as much as she did, just to feel like she was safe. He held her arm and put soap on a washcloth for her, then he stared at the wall until she handed it back.
When she turned to him, his eyes held hers, and the tears he’d sensed she was trying to hold in came out as she leaned against him.
He wrapped an arm around her and pressed the other against the wall behind her to keep them both from falling.
“I thought I was going to die in there,” her voice broke, and he held her tighter.
“I wouldn’t have left you Paislee. No matter what, I would have come after you. I’m just so damn sorry it took me so long.”
Her shoulders shook, and he held her under the spray of the water until it turned cold.
Then he wrapped her in a towel and carried her to the bed.
“Please don’t leave.” She held her hand out for him.
“I won’t.”
He changed into dry boxers and shorts, then climbed into the bed with her. She scooted close, and he held her against his bare chest while she cried.
* * *
When Paislee opened her eyes again, she was alone. She stretched, thankful her headache had subsided. Timothy was nowhere in the room, and she closed her eyes again, remembering the gentleness of his touch when he’d been caring for her.
She put her feet on the floor and looked around for something more than a towel to wear. Her clothes were gone, so she opened the closet and pulled out a white robe that had been hanging inside.
Finally steady on her feet, Paislee made her way towards the front of the plane. Timothy was sitting at a table, and when he looked up his eyes locked on her. With his gaze on hers, she made her way over to the table and sat across from him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.
“I’m okay.”
He noted her color was back, the red of her hair had returned, but with it, he could see the bruise that marred the marble skin of her cheek.
“I’m going to kill him,” he said it simply, as if it were merely a topic in a typical conversation.
“Good.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Can I eat first?”
“Yes, sorry.” He stood, “Turkey sandwich okay?”
“That would be great, thanks. Do you have any coffee?”
He nodded towards the pot. “I can get you some in just a second.”
“I can get it.” She stood and took the mug he offered her. The closeness of his body to hers was electric, and she yearned to feel his arms around her again.
Instead of reaching for him, she finished making her coffee and took a seat at the table again.
He set a plate with a fairly large sandwich in front of her.
“Are you not eating?”
“I’ve already eaten,” he said softly and leaned back in his seat. “Besides, I’m not overly fond of flying. It tends to make me a little nauseous.”
A ghost
of a smile played at her lips before disappearing. She started to lift her sandwich but stopped. “Timothy?”
“Hmm?” Those steely eyes locked on hers and for a moment she forgot what she’d meant to say. She blushed and looked back down at her food. “Thank you for coming for me. And for helping me earlier.”
“You’re welcome, Paislee.”
His voice was soft, and Paislee offered him a slight smile before taking a bite out of her sandwich. “This is amazing,” she commented after she’d swallowed the first bite.
“You don’t live for two hundred years and not know how to make decent food.” He grinned at her, and for the first time since she’d known him, she felt like he might finally begin opening a bit to her.
“I suppose that’s true.” She finished eating and then pushed her plate back. “How’s Garth?”
“The cat is fine. Ashton is watching him.”
“Thanks.”
“You don’t need to keep thanking me Paislee.”
“I just, I would have died if you hadn’t come for me. It was different this time, he…” She shut her eyes and felt Timothy’s hand reach forward and touch hers. The feel of his hand on hers gave her the strength to continue speaking. “He had this necklace.”
“The mortem auguratricis.”
“You know of it?”
“Ashton found some background on it before we were able to come get you.”
She stared at their hands. “He used it to steal my power. It was the most horrible thing I have ever experienced. It was like something was reaching inside of my body, deep down into my veins and ripping pieces of me out.” She shut her eyes, and a tear fell onto the table. “He told me that he had met me once when I was a little girl, that I had been drawn to that necklace, and he’d let me see it.”
Timothy nodded. “Your father had tried to protect you. He’d known something was off. He had been blamed for the theft of the necklace, but they’d never been able to pin anything on him.”
“That explains why he ‘quit.’ He wouldn’t have wanted to tell us he got fired.” Paislee pulled her hand away to cover her face. “How could I have been so stupid?”
Collateral Damage_A Tethered Novel Page 11
