Bad Luck, Baby

31 - Bad Company

For a moment I stared at the empty room, not comprehending. Then, one at a time, the details sank in: the seal with its complicated geometry interrupted by scorch marks, the red stains on the floor and the walls, the strangely astringent scent of ozone, and—most notably—the absence of Ro.

"What have you done?" I whispered, turning slowly to face Lucian. "What have you done to him?"

Lucian's expression was difficult to read. In a calmer state, I might have thought he looked nearly as shocked as I felt, but all I registered was his failure to answer me within an acceptable five second time-frame.

My emotions had been through a lot in the last few hours, and this was one thing too much. Something inside me snapped as my fear hit capacity and ignited into rage. With a somewhat shrill cry of, "What have you done to Ro, you fucking bastard!?" I hurled myself at Lucian with the full intention of beating the answer out of him with my fists.

He caught me easily, his hands closing around my wrists as firmly as the silver cuffs, and I struggled in his grasp like a small child throwing a tantrum.

Still, slight though I was, I'd taken him by surprise and my emotional firestorm lent me more strength than I usually possessed. With repeated and half-incoherent demands that he tell me what he'd done to my daemon, I got a hand free and reached for his throat. The scars covering my skin like a lacy glove glowed with green fire, and Lucian's dark eyes widened with alarm.

Reflexively, he caught my wrist again, and then hissed with pain and released me, staggering back a pace and staring at a red and blistered palm. Meanwhile, the air stirred to life and an unnatural wind rushed about the room and through the house, picking up speed until it roared with a hurricane howl, swishing curtains, knocking pictures from the walls, and sending unseen thing smashing to their doom.

"Ellie!" Lucian shouted over the din as his slicked-back hair whipped into a wild mess. "Ellie, stop this now! I haven't—"

Ignoring him, I lunged forward again, but this time he saw me coming. With the practiced grace of a man who knows his opponent is beneath him, he evaded my attack and struck me with the back of his hand.

It wasn't a hard blow, but with my mind and heart already in chaos, it was just enough to tip the balance too far. Now thoroughly overwhelmed, my nervous system activated its final, nonsensical defense, and pulled the plug. My vision darkened, I fell, and a small, strangely calm corner of my mind noted, almost absently, that I would be unconscious before I hit the ground.

❧

I came to lying on a couch. Quiet voices spoke nearby. One I recognized as Lucian's; the other was a mellow, lightly accented tenor. Footsteps approached and I raised myself a little as Lucian and another man came into view.

The stranger was tall and lean, with short brown hair, an angular face and a long, straight nose. He looked to be about thirty, and wore black slacks, a cream-colored shirt, and a brown vest. His dark eyes held an expression of keen attention and curiosity, but the rest of his expression remained carefully bland. There was something of the guard dog about him, and I could guess who he was without having to be told.

"Ellie. How are you feeling?" Lucian asked cautiously.

His hair was back in its usual neat style, but a bandage wrapped his right hand. We were in a different room than the one he'd first brought me to, and with a quick glance I took in what looked almost like a large, open apartment, with a desk and bookshelves, a sitting area, and another area occupied by a large bed.

"These are my personal chambers," he explained, noting my gaze. "I keep most of my important documents here. And this is Chester," he added, gesturing at the other man, "my familiar."