Page 34 of Fated By Fire
“Youare going back to where you came from,” I tell her. “I’ll deal with this.”
“But—” she starts, only to stop short as Dorian rounds on her.
“We’re going to take care of this,” he tells her. “Go back to her place and make absolutely sure she didn’t go back there. There’s a chance she’ll head home, and if she does, that’s the best place for you to be.”
“I… I…” Her eyes dart about; she’s conflicted.
Dorian sets a hand on her shoulder, that easy smile softening his expression. He’s shifted into charmer mode. “We’ve got this, Mara. Go check on her place. Give Sloane your number, and we’ll get in touch as soon as we have an answer for you.”
A flicker of suspicion sparks in her eyes, then fades away. The charm has worked its magic.
“Fine,” she says slowly. “But don’t fuck me around, okay? If I don’t hear from you within two hours, I’m going to the cops.”
“That won’t be necessary. I promise.” His smile widens. I see the fight go out of her. But I don’t watch for much longer because the elevator is opening again, and I’m heading down again.
Elena Ross found her way to the Heartstone, and Malakai caught her there. He should never have been there. For some reason, he didn’t alert me. And I am completely convinced that he took her from here.
Now, I just have to figure out why.
Chapter 13
Elena
It’s been hours. At least, I think it has; I’ve lost track of time. Pain shoots through my wrists as I pull against the bindings holding me to a chair. The ropes bite into my skin like sharp teeth; I stop struggling.
I’ve been in worse situations—or at least, that’s what I tell myself. This is just another job gone sideways. Another asshole who thinks tying me up is going to get them answers they don’t deserve.
The room is poorly lit, the air thick with the scent of mildew and old wood. Shadows dance across the walls, their shapes shifting with the flickering light of a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. My chair is bolted to the floor, its cold metal frame pressing into my back. I’m not in the vault anymore. That much is clear. But where I am—and who dragged me here—is still a mystery.
The door creaks open, and my head snaps up. For a moment, I anticipate Caleb Craven. But what steps into the room isn’t the CEO of Craven Industries.
It’s the man from the vault. He was tall when he faced me there, but now that I’m tied to this chair, it’s like looking up at a giant. His pale blue eyes lock onto mine, filled with cold calculation. He steps closer, his movements deliberate, like a shark circling its next meal.
“You’ve stopped struggling,” he says, his voice a low monotone that chills me far more effectively than if he’d been yelling. “Good. I was wondering how long it would take.”
I force my voice to stay steady. “You’re making a mistake. I just got lost in the building. Let me go, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”
He tilts his head, his smile widening. “Lost? In a secured vault? With multiple bio-access control mechanisms? You’re either a terrible liar or a very brave woman. Either way, you’re incredibly stupid.”
Yep. There’s that.
He eyes me thoughtfully, and the silence stretches until I think my nerves are going to snap. “So, are you going to be a good girl and tell me what you’re up to?”
I swallow hard. “Look, I’m a private investigator. I was hired to look into some irregularities at Craven Industries. That’s it. I’m not a threat to you or whatever you’re hiding.”
He circles me slowly, his footsteps echoing in the silence. “Irregularities. How quaint. And who hired you?”
I shake my head. “I’m not at liberty to say. Client confidentiality is sacred in my line of work.”
He snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not a psychiatrist. Or a priest. Give me the name.”
“Nope.” I shake my head. He’s probably right, but I don’t have any other leverage right now. I pinch my lips together.
He stops in front of me, leaning down so his face is inches from mine. His breath is hot, almost unnaturally so, and it makes me recoil. “You think this is about client confidentiality? You have no idea what you’ve stumbled into.”
I lift my chin, meeting his gaze head-on. “Then enlighten me. Because right now, all I see is a thug who’s making empty threats.”
His eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think he’s going to hit me. Instead, he straightens and steps back, his expression unreadable. “You’re in no position to make demands. But I’ll give you one chance. Tell me who hired you, and I might let you walk out of here alive.”
