Enthralled: Tainted Book Four

6. Time to Die

Rome

Twenty minutes after the others left, Spin called and said he had Christopher Remington secured in one of the Huskarls' dungeons.

Leaving Lilas in Mr. Snyder's care, Mira and I hustled our butts over there and found only Spin.

"Everything go okay?" I demanded as we did our bro hug and Mira looked around the place, very interested in the available ... encouragers-to-talk ... hanging on the wall by the sign-in desk.

"Yep. Ray's plan worked like a dream."

"Where is he, anyway? I kind of wanted to meet him."

"Said he had to check in with his team." Spin shrugged. "Figured it was still headquartered here in Valhalla like it was when Hank ran it. He left me his number if we needed him for something, then split."

"So he's out?"

"He was never really in, I guess. Just a stray we picked up and brought home."

"What does he look like, anyway? Does he favor Ms. Chapman or her ex?"

"I don't know... I just... Ray. He looks like Ray. I don't know what he looks like! Ask Chessie. She pays attention to crap." Irritated, Spin scratched at his ear with a frown.

That was worrying, but I could pursue the mystery of Ray later. I had an Alchemist to end.

Ahem.

Interrogate.

"Where is she, anyway? And Chance and that girl?"

"Anne." Spin's voice sharpened, and I blinked. "Her name is Anne."

"Sorry, man." I held up my hands. What was itching his balls? "Where's Anne?"

"With Chance and Chessie. Titus Wray took them all to Drott Josef Krall. Apparently, Kerry volunteered Chessie's ward-making services to him or something? Anyway, Anne wanted to meet him, so Chance went along to keep an eye on them."

"Surprised that girl—" I cleared my throat and tried again. "I'm surprised Anne also doesn't need a ward to help shield her from being overwhelmed by the surplus of emotions around her. She's a muse, too."

"She does have a ward." Spin shrugged. "Said someone sent it to her right before she left for the mission that ended up with her nearly dying at City of the Future."

Seeing his temper flashing in his green eyes, I hurried to change the subject.

"Remington have anything useful on him?"

"All of his belongings, including his phone, are right here." He handed me a cloth bag.

"All right, buddy. If you don't mind escorting Mira back to the safehouse, I'll deal with the trash."

"Have fun." Slapping me once on the shoulder, he went over to Mira, who was haggling with the guy at the desk over a giant war hammer, her eyes filled with something like lust as she stared at the thing.

Shaking my head, I made my way back to Remington's cell, swiped my ID, and pushed the door open when it unlocked.

Dumping the cloth bag of his possession onto the table, I sorted through the jewelry, wallet and ... socks? Why had Spin felt the need to remove the man's socks?! Shaking my head with a sigh, I slid Remington's phone to the side, then took out my own and laid it next to his, getting it all ready to record our conversation. Then I pulled Mira's phone out of my other back pocket and walked over to my prey.

Ahem.

Prisoner.

Mr. Christopher Remington was in his late thirties or early forties with brown hair edged with silver along his temples. He wore a nice black tuxedo that probably would have paid for a new fishing boat for my opa, black shoes shiny enough to see the overhead lights reflected on them, and a silk bow tie that hung undone on either side of his neck.