Damon giggled, sounding remarkably normal, then guided him back to stand opposite Symeon. Symeon’s smile was cold enough to freeze molten lava.
“Sorry, Damon. You don’t get to play with our new toy just yet. There will be plenty of time for you to abuse him once I have Evrain. Now put him away.”
“He’ll never give himself up to you, Symeon.” Dominic’s soft tone contrasted sharply with the cackle that came out of Damon’s mouth in response.
“Be quiet, Damon. If you have nothing intelligent to say, and that is more than likely, keep your mouth shut. Your flapping lips are only good for one thing and you’ll be doing that later.” Symeon’s fingers flickered, and Damon dropped to his knees with a groan.
Wow, what a bastard. No wonder Damon has issues.
Dominic experienced a surge of sympathy for Symeon’s unfortunate boyfriend.
“And as for you…” Symeon’s eyes bored into Dominic. “Perhaps it’s time I gave you a demonstration of true power.” His fingers began to weave intricate patterns and his eyes glowed. Words that Dominic didn’t understand streamed from Symeon’s cruel mouth and his hair rippled, lifted by a whirl of wind. On the floor, Damon twitched and jerked, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, but Symeon ignored him completely. Dominic took a step back but he was helpless to resist as an invisible force pushed him against the wall. A lance of light sliced through the air and cut into the fabric of his clothes, making a series of long slashes. His shirt then his pants and shorts fell away in tatters, leaving him naked and defenseless. His hands were still tightly bound behind his back, his arms crushed between his body and the wall.
Pressure gripped his neck, pinning him against the peeling paper. Dominic’s heart pounded. Sweat broke out on his face. He felt utterly helpless as Symeon took a couple of steps closer.
“I can see why Evrain is so attracted to you, boy. You are very…tempting.” He extended a hand toward his cane, which rested on the mantel over the fire. The cane flew toward him, landing with a smack on his palm. He rested the silver end against Dominic’s bare chest. The metal was warm but Dominic still flinched as Symeon dragged the cane downward, tracing the central line of Dominic’s body until it brushed his cock and stopped, resting lightly against him. He struggled to remain calm but his muscles strained against both visible and invisible bonds.
A strangled objection came from Damon, and Symeon blinked.
“Yes, thank you, Damon. This is supposed to be a demonstration of power. Power controlled by channeling, so remember your place and keep quiet.”
Symeon flicked his fingers and a narrow cut appeared on Dominic’s thigh. Tiny drops of blood welled up, glistening along its length. Dominic clenched his teeth—he would not give Symeon the pleasure of reacting to this torture. Another cut appeared down his biceps, another across his shoulder and yet another across his ribs.
“You see how easy it would be for me to kill you, slowly, inch by inch,” Symeon snarled.
Dominic twisted his body in frustration but whatever held him in place was beyond his strength.
“I have absolute control over your body, boy, I can remove every hair individually, extract every nail, and make you feel like you’ve been beaten or whipped to within an inch of your life.” Symeon made a dramatic gesture with one arm, and Dominic fell. He hit the floor hard, unable to protect himself.
“I think we’ll start slowly…”
Within seconds, Dominic writhed in agony, every inch of his skin on fire with pain that started as a mild tingling and progressed to searing heat. He felt like he was being scoured with hot wire wool and there was no escape. When the blackness of unconsciousness came he welcomed it with relief.
* * * *
Dominic came round back in the attic. He was cold, naked and he hurt everywhere. Dominic felt strange, different, but without light he couldn’t see what Symeon had done to him. His fingernails were intact—that was something to be thankful for. Determined not to give in to his fear, he put Symeon out of his mind and focused on loosening the ropes around his wrists. He winced and ground his teeth in pain as he struggled to get free of the rough bindings. All he’d managed to do so far was to tighten the knots that dug deeply into his raw skin. He was desperately afraid that Evrain might do something stupid in an attempt to rescue him. The last thing he wanted was for Evrain to suffer just because he’d been stupid enough to get himself captured.
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.