Elemental Love

by L. M. Somerton

  “You’re calling me stubborn? Pot, kettle, black.” Dominic chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “I love you too.” His voice trembled just a little as the whispered words made his feelings real. “I don’t want my own room…” He gave a shy, embarrassed smile.

  “Oh, I lied about that.” Evrain smirked then ducked as a teaspoon flew in his direction.

  * * * *

  The day was spent making the trip back to Portland, then to Dominic’s apartment above the diner in Hood River. There was a limit to the truck’s capacity but by midafternoon they had moved everything essential and done a big shop for groceries. The rest would happen gradually over the next week while they finalized arrangements to hand back the apartment in Evrain’s case and give up the lease in Dominic’s.

  Evrain drove his car back from Portland, trailing Dominic all the way, and left it at Hornbeam Cottage while they moved Dominic’s last load of clothes and books from his apartment to the cabin.

  “You have heard of an e-reader, haven’t you?” Evrain grouched as he hauled yet another weighty box along the lane.

  “I’ve never seen the point,” Dominic admitted. “Most of my books are hand-me-downs or thrift store bargains. I like the smell of old paper. Does that make me weird?”

  “Yes.” Evrain was emphatic.

  “Does not.”

  “Does too.”

  They both dissolved into giggles on the doorstep.

  “Oh my God, we’ve regressed back to nursery school. What grade is that in your world?” Evrain asked.

  “Does it matter?” The bottom of his box chose that moment to give up and a big pile of books landed on the path. That set Evrain laughing even harder.

  “You go, you have to get to that job appointment. I’ll clear up here.” Evrain began to stack the books in a haphazard pile.

  “Are you sure?” Dominic felt guilty leaving Evrain with his stuff.

  “Of course.” Evrain contorted his fingers, whispered a word Dominic didn’t understand, and the entire stack of books levitated off the ground. “Paper is a natural material, it’s of the earth and therefore elemental. I can handle it.”

  Dominic rolled his eyes. “Cheat.”

  “And unashamed. Being a warlock has its benefits, remember what I can do with ink.” Evrain grinned as he opened the door and guided his floating pile of literature inside with a gesture.

  Dominic recalled all too well the results of Evrain’s magical artwork. His cock perked up at the memory. “Now I have to go to my appointment with a hard-on,” he complained, but Evrain had disappeared inside the cabin. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour or two,” Dominic shouted through the open door.

  He got a muffled grunt in return and decided that was enough of an acknowledgment.

  Dominic walked back to his truck and set off for his one gardening job of the day. A potential new client wanted a quote for clearing some waste ground behind their recently acquired property. The visit was to assess the job and provide an idea of cost so it was unlikely to take too long. It wasn’t the most exciting job in the world, hard labor really, but sometimes clearance jobs turned into more interesting landscaping projects. Dominic loved the challenge of designing outdoor spaces to suit their owners. If initial grunt work was the price, he was good with that. Most of the bigger landscape companies in the area turned up their noses at small jobs like this one. Dominic enjoyed the variety that a range of different work afforded him.

  Dominic had discussed the job with Evrain earlier in the day. Evrain had insisted that Dominic ring him when he arrived, then again when he was leaving the property so that he would know when to expect him back at the cabin. Dominic had bridled a bit at his overprotectiveness but hadn’t made too much fuss—he knew Evrain’s motivation was genuine concern for his safety and it seemed churlish to complain. After witnessing Symeon Malus’ behavior the previous day, Dominic was a little wary himself.

  His client’s address proved to be quite remote, well outside the town’s borders. Dominic pulled up in front of the property, grabbed his mobile and dialed Evrain.

  “Hi, I’m here. It looks like someone’s got the restoration bug, the place is a ruin. From where I’m sitting it’s virtually derelict.”

  “Perhaps the new owner wants to level the place and build on the land,” Evrain said.

  “It’s possible. It has a real haunted house quality about it. I’ll take a picture to show you when I get back.”

  “Is your prospective client there?” Evrain asked.

  “Well, I can’t see a vehicle but there’s an overgrown drive down the side of the property so he might be back there already. I’ll go take a look.” Dominic peered through the truck window. There was no sign of life anywhere.

  “I don’t like it, Dominic. It could be a set-up.” Evrain’s voice was tightly controlled. Dominic could tell he was worried.

  “I won’t let fear control my life, Evrain. This appointment was made weeks ago. I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll call you when I’m done, okay?”

  “I’m not happy about this. I think you should lock your door and drive straight back here,” Evrain said.

  “It’s broad daylight,” Dominic attempted to reassure him. “I’m not going to lose work because you’re jumping at shadows. And before you say I don’t need the money, that’s not the point. My reputation is important to me. If I let someone down, news will spread.”

  “Fine. I can’t fight stubborn, but don’t be long. I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

  Dominic’s cock jerked. “Do I get any say in this?”

  “No.” Evrain chuckled. “You need a few lessons in obedience and I’m really looking forward to teaching you.” He rang off abruptly.

  Dominic growled at the phone but his cock was still swelling in response to Evrain’s commanding tone. “What that man does to me,” he muttered. He scrambled out of the truck, shoved his phone into his back pocket, then strolled toward the house. He waded through knee-high grass, following the track of the drive. Two channels were crushed flat, suggesting that a vehicle had used it recently. Sure enough, as Dominic rounded the corner to the back of the building, he came across a black four-by-four with heavily tinted windows. He couldn’t tell if anyone was inside. No door opened. No window rolled down, so he guessed not. His stomach flipped a little—this was the part of his work that he hated the most. He found meeting new people difficult, but tackling his shyness was a challenge he was determined to face up to.

  There didn’t seem to be anyone around as he surveyed the garden wilderness with a critical eye. He estimated that there had been no cultivation whatsoever for at least two years. Brambles and nettles competed with bindweed, thickets of hazel and willow. He could just make out the lines of paths. Different heights in the growth hinted at what might have once been formal flower beds. He snapped a couple of pictures of the house with his cell, to show Evrain.

  “This is one hell of a lot of work.” He itched to get started. To bring order out of verdant chaos. He didn’t want to go poking around in the house uninvited. He’d just wait in his truck for a while in case someone made an appearance. If they didn’t show in fifteen minutes, he’d leave a note on the four-by-four and head for home. He stood there for another five minutes or so, then turned to head back to the car.

  Facing him was a well-dressed man in his late forties, maybe early fifties. His clothing was completely unsuitable for wading around the plot but there didn’t seem to be a speck of mud on him. Crow’s feet around his eyes and a scattering of silver in his short, dark hair marked his age. His body, encased in a clearly expensive, tailored suit seemed fit and trim.

  “Oh my God, I didn’t hear you!” Dominic gasped.

  “I apologize for creeping up on you. Sylvester Marks. Very pleased to meet you.”

  Dominic took the proffered hand and received a firm shake. There was none of the pressured squeezing he sometimes got—this man felt no need to assert his strength. Dominic noticed that he had young hands,
completely soft and smooth.

  “Likewise. Dominic Castine.” Dominic gestured to the plot. “Quite a project you have here.”

  Marks chuckled. “It is indeed. I should explain. I recently sold my business and I’ve invested in this place as a retirement project. I need something to occupy me now I have time on my hands.”

  “It could be a really great place once it’s renovated.” Dominic could see the potential.

  “It is a glorious spot and it will be a fantastic home for when I relocate from Seattle. I have a construction crew lined up but I want the surrounding land cleared for them before they start work. That’s where you come in.”

  “I confess, sir, I’m a little surprised. Your crew could bulldoze the land in a couple of days.” Dominic crossed his fingers and hoped that his potential client had more vision than that but he preferred to be honest.

  “They could, that’s true. I considered it, but I have photographs of how the gardens here were set out before they fell into this neglected state and I want to restore them. I’m hoping that there are traces of the original design under the jungle.”

  “Oh, there are, sir. I can clearly see hints. There may still be paths and edging stones under there.” Dominic didn’t hide his enthusiasm.

  “So you’re interested in the job?”

  “Absolutely. I can tot up some figures tonight and have a quote in the mail for you tomorrow. At a rough guess, I’d estimate four weeks’ work.”

  “That sounds great. I’d be looking for you to start as soon as possible. Do you have many other…commitments?”

  Dominic wondered for a moment about the emphasis Marks had put on that word, as if it had a double meaning. “I have a fair number of regular local clients but I can fit those jobs around this one. I would keep a detailed log of the hours I spend here.”

  Marks’ eyes glittered. “I’m sure you would, you have an excellent reputation. If I’m pleased with the clearance job, there will likely be a future opportunity to restore the garden.”

  They shook hands again. Dominic fancied that Marks’ hand lingered a fraction too long. He shook off his vague sense of disquiet and accompanied Marks back to his vehicle. After a final goodbye, Marks drove away. Dominic had a last glance around. Dusk had arrived and it was getting difficult to see, so he went back to his own vehicle. He started up the engine to get some heat going, then rang Evrain.

  “I was about to send out a search party,” Evrain said as soon as he answered the call.

  “Not necessary. I’m all done. It could be a really great job too.”

  “What was the client like?”

  “Rich.” Dominic chuckled. “He seemed okay, though. Told me that it was his retirement project. He’s going to move here from Seattle when the place is all finished.”

  “Anything odd about him?” Evrain sounded dubious.

  “He moved quietly, snuck up behind me and I didn’t even notice.” Dominic thought about the man he’d just met. He was unremarkable in many ways. “The only other thing I noticed were his hands. Young hands on an older man. He’s probably spent his working life in an office. Other than that, he was nice enough.”

  “Hmm. I want you home where I can see you’re okay.”

  Dominic almost made a comment about Evrain’s mile-wide overprotective streak, but resisted. “I’m leaving now. Give me half an hour.” He rang off then tossed his phone onto the passenger seat. He clicked his seat belt into place and put the truck in drive. There were no monsters in the back seat, no strange objects in the road, no evil flying monkeys swooping down from the sky. He shook his head. Evrain had turned him into a nervous wreck. He switched on the radio to a country music station and bopped in his seat as he drove. A happy glow of anticipation filled him at the thought of seeing Evrain again.

  Bright lights appeared in his rear-view mirror. Dominic checked his speed to make sure he was within the limit. The local cops didn’t tolerate speeding on the back roads. The lights got closer. He couldn’t make out the size of the vehicle but the driver had his high beams on.

  “Idiot. Dip your lights.” Dominic tilted his mirror to reduce the glare. He slowed down—there was plenty of room for another vehicle to pass him. He breathed a sigh of relief as the other vehicle pulled out. He kept his eyes on the road, silently urging the other driver to get on with it and pass. Without warning he was rammed from the side. His relief turned to shock. He struggled to control the truck, which careered across the road. He was hit again, this time from behind. Panicked, Dominic misjudged a bend and the truck plummeted down an embankment. Frantically, he attempted to steer but the wheel locked up. All he could do was cover his face with his arms and pray. When the impact came, it jarred his entire body. The airbag deployed, smacking him in the face. The seat belt dug deep into his body.

  Gradually the noise of splintering wood and screeching metal faded to quiet, leaving the hiss of what had to be a broken radiator.

  “What the hell?” Dominic groaned. He couldn’t decide what hurt most, his face or his midsection. He groped for his phone, but the passenger seat was empty. “Where is it?” Must be in the foot well. He struggled to release his seat belt. The clasp was jammed but gave way after a few sharp tugs. He shoved at the door. It creaked and moved a couple of inches. Dominic growled his frustration. He swiveled sideways so that he could kick it and he finally managed to get it open, pain shooting through his body. He half climbed, half fell from the truck. He scrambled to his feet, trying to keep his balance on the steep terrain. He ached everywhere but didn’t seem to have any major injuries. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth but he didn’t know whether it came from a split lip or if he’d bitten his tongue. It was pitch black.

  The sounds of someone scrambling down the bank had Dominic struggling to take a few steps. A bright beam of light struck his eyes and he was forced to squeeze them shut.

  “Sorry!”

  The light dropped and Dominic was able to focus on the owner of the voice. Upslope from him stood a dark-haired, pale-skinned young man. He had to be quite short, several inches shorter than Dominic, because even with the slope advantage Dominic could meet his pale eyes.

  “Hi, I’m Damon…” The introduction was accompanied by a cocky grin.

  Dominic’s eyes widened as he recognized the name. He was still staring into Damon’s strange eyes, trying to decide what to say when a sharp pain to the back of his head made him fall to his knees. Then the darkness took him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Evrain began to worry approximately one minute after he thought Dominic should have returned. A sick feeling developed in the pit of his stomach and refused to go away. As time went on, he became increasingly agitated. He knew with absolute certainty that something had happened to Dominic once half an hour had passed. He reasoned that thirty minutes could easily be used up by a fuel stop, a puncture, or a chance meeting with a friend who needed a lift. Any longer and Dominic wouldn’t stay away without a phone call. He knew damn well that Evrain was dancing on hot coals over his safety.

  “If he’s just late, I’m going to tan his hide until it glows.” The cabin felt like a prison. Evrain needed space. He slammed out into the garden to pace up and down in the darkness. The change of scenery failed to do anything to calm him. Every part of the neatly laid out plot reminded him of Dominic. Even as he prayed that there was a perfectly innocent reason for Dominic’s tardiness, deep down he knew that something was very wrong. His emotions were out of control so he vented, carefully reaching for the sky before he let go of his power. The wind howled, but soon dissipated. Evrain’s despair increased.

  * * * *

  Dominic didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten there. He faked unconsciousness for a while, trying to assess the condition of his battered body. He remembered losing control of the truck and crashing down the embankment. He recalled Damon being there, then nothing. Someone, not Damon, had struck him on the back of the head and they had moved silently into position i
n order to do it. As silently as Sylvester Marks had come up behind him at the derelict house. Could Marks and Symeon Malus be the same person? He didn’t understand how that could be possible but only a few days earlier he hadn’t known about the existence of warlocks. Evrain had said that Symeon was very skilled. Maybe he was able to change his appearance.

  With slow, careful movements, Dominic probed the back of his skull. His hair wasn’t stuck together, so he guessed there was no blood. He did, however, find an egg-sized lump, which, when he touched it, sent bolts of pain through his head. “Bad move. Really bad move.” He cracked open an eye, blinking to clear his vision. He was inside a building, lying on the floor in the hall. It was cold and drafty but there was a threadbare carpet runner on the floor, which he was becoming intimately acquainted with. He attempted to get up, making it to his knees before pain wracked him. His ribs ached, and a quick examination beneath his shirt showed lines of extensive bruising from where the seat belt had dug into him during the crash. He glanced around, hoping to find an escape route while he was alone. Perhaps he could make it to the front door if his captors thought he was still safely unconscious.

  He forced his abused limbs to move but, as he rose, Damon appeared from a door at the end of the hall. Dominic ran but he was too slow. Damon caught up with him and tackled him to the floor. Damon got in a couple of vicious kicks before Dominic could get back up. He managed to plant a heavy, retaliatory fist into Damon’s smug face before a punch to his side sent searing agony through him. He collapsed once more, taking shuddering, painful breaths.

  “So stupid. What does Evrain see in you?” Damon produced two lengths of rope and tied Dominic up, hands behind his back and ankles crossed. “Be a good boy while I let Symeon know you’re awake.” Damon disappeared, leaving Dominic on the hall floor.