Page 26 of The Alpha's Warlock
“Again with thelittlething,” I snapped, because that stung more than it ought to have. I didn’t have much training, and my father had stolen my magic for most of my life. And it fucking sucked that I had a reputation for being useless as a result. “Thanks so much for hurrying to get there and save my ass, by the way. Super thoughtful of you.”
“For your information,” Charlie replied quietly, “I did intend to offer assistance if I could, but I was busy investigating my own homicides. You were already inside the Armitage territory by the time I caught up with you.” He drummed his fingers on the table, an oddly fidgety gesture for someone whose movements were, as far as I could tell, usually so controlled. “In any case, the same magical signature we found when tracking my missing vampires was present in the warehouse. The connection is clear. And,” he held up a hand to ward off my imminent explosion and/or finger lightning, “I’m really not sure why the humans are trying to arrest you. I have people looking into that.”
“Out of the goodness of your own heart?” Ian put a heavy serving of sarcasm and skepticism on the words, and I agreed completely.
“No. Out of knowing, from experience that spans many of your lifetimes, that when a series of events are connected it’s best to unravel them all and ignore nothing. I don’t give a damn about your well-being, aside from wanting to preserve a cordial relationship with Matthew on general principle. You’re connected to my problem. That means I’ll take an interest in you.”
Oh, that sounded just fucking great. Dor chuckled, and I started. I’d almost forgotten he was there, which said a lot about his ability to blend into the background. No one with a sword that big ought to be able to be that quiet.
“That may not be as reassuring as you think,” Dor said, and downed the rest of his coffee. I caught a glimpse of an ornate tattoo covering his throat from chin to collar as he tipped his head to get the last few drops.
“It wasn’t meant to be,” Charlie shot back. He turned to us and added seriously, “But I don’t mean you any harm, either, as long as it turns out you had nothing to do with my people’s deaths.”
“Fine,” Ian said. “But now I need to call Matt, and I’m not going to argue about it.”
“Neither am I,” Charlie said grimly. “You can’t call him. I’m sorry, that’s not negotiable. Dor will take you upstairs where there’s a studio apartment you can use, and I’ll expect you to stay there for now.”
Ian shoved to his feet, shouting something about that not being fucking happening, Charlie tensed, ready to fight, and Dor — well, he sketched a quick sigil in the air with his fingers, everything went blurry, and the last thing I saw was Ian toppling to the floor.
Chapter 16
…Plan for the Worst
Charlie’s studio apartment was surprisingly dusty and plain for belonging to the same guy who thought red velvet and gold script were tasteful. At least it had a functioning bathroom, because the second I woke up, sprawled inelegantly across a faded old futon, I needed to get rid of about a gallon of coffee. The bathroom was obvious, so I staggered in there, took care of business, and staggered back out.
Ian rolled over with a groan as I approached. They’d left him on the floor.
I wasn’t sure if I was more annoyed or amused by that, but either way, I bit my tongue. He had a dust bunny stuck to his ear and his eyes weren’t quite focused. Poor guy didn’t need me laughing at him on top of it.
Openly, anyway. I was definitely laughing on the inside.
“Hey,” I said, crouching down next to him. “You okay?” Dor’s magical whammy seemed to have hit Ian harder than it hit me. I was fine, now that my bladder wasn’t about to explode.
Ian blinked at me and sat up, brushing off the side of his head with a grimace. “Yeah. Fuck those assholes. I can’t believe they just tossed us on the floor.”
I cleared my throat. “They put me on the futon?”
He snorted. “Of course they did. I saw the way that douchebag was looking at you.” What the fuck? And which one of them was he talking about, anyway? I usually noticed being checked out by someone hot, and Charlie and Dor both qualified in their own variously creepy ways. How had Ian noticed when I hadn’t? Ian shoved himself to his feet. “Any idea how long we were out?”
“A couple of hours maybe?” I shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. I doubt we can get out of here either way, so however long it’s been, we’re stuck here until they come get us. I don’t think my magic’s a match for Dor’s, especially on his home turf where he has everything warded out the wazoo.”
“Fuck that,” Ian grumbled, and started to make a circuit of the small space. Checking for secret passages in the walls? Who the fuck knew. I went and flopped on the futon, which sent up a puff of dust at the impact. Ugh. The floor might have been better, actually.
My stomach growled, and Ian chuckled. Double ugh. Why did he have to have a nice laugh? I was getting soft, and I hated it. “You’re not finding any sandwiches over there, are you?”
“No. And no way out, either.”
To my surprise, he sat down next to me. And put a hand on my knee. And startedrubbing circles on my leg. In acomforting way.
“Hey, Ian?” I wasn’t sure how to ask him tactfully if his brain had gotten scrambled. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”
The rubbing stopped, but the hand stayed where it was. “Um, yeah?” And now he sounded irritated. Great, just what we needed, to get in a fight while we were locked in here and neither of us could storm off in a huff.
“Just making sure. You don’t seem to do so great with magic.” There. That was neutral enough, right?
Wrong. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Fainting-Like-a-Princess-Every-Five-Minutes.”
“Fuck you!” I shot back. So much for making nice. “I’ve had a rough week if you haven’t notic—”
