I glare at him, taking in my surroundings. The space is barely big enough for the washer and dryer and me. No windows. One door. And Rowan’s blocking it, looking like the cat that got the canary—if the cat wore an expensive suit and the canary was a pissed-off necromancer.
“Go to hell,” I spit.
He chuckles, pulling a small remote from his pocket. “Always so spirited. Let’s fix that, shall we?”
When he presses the button, the effect is immediate and disorienting. My own breathing suddenly goes silent. I can see his mouth moving, but nothing reaches my ears. It’s like someone hit mute on the entire room.
The magic noise blocker. Shit.
When he first held me captive back in Brighton, I didn’t have enough control to rely on my powers. Now he’s had enough time to take precautions. Without sound, I can’t channel my necromantic abilities. Without my abilities or tools, I’m just askinny guy with an attitude problem against an asshole with ample resources.
Rowan’s smile widens, triumph gleaming in his eyes as he tucks the remote back into his suit pocket. He straightens his already perfect tie and stands just outside this room past the doorway, settling in like he’s about to give a TED talk on Being a Complete Sociopath. “Can you hear me? Excellent.”
I make a face and he sees that I can still hear his awful voice. Nothing in this room can create a sound right now, but I can still hear him talk from outside the enchantment.
Great. So I get to listen to his villain monologue without being able to talk back. Just perfect.
“Five years ago,” he begins, “when that dragon from the underworld killed your dear brother, it was quite easy to pin the blame on him. After all, he was the powerful necromancer while I was just a weak illusionist.” He sighs theatrically. “Jonathan came to the city to teach me. There were phone calls, links between him and me, so I erased his identity and our connection. I made him just the rogue necromancer without a name.” Only pictures were left of him, but they were enough for me to recognize my brother.
My blood boils. My brother died because of this asshole, and he’s talking about it like it was a minor inconvenience, a scheduling conflict he had to work around.
“I truly believed the problem was the seduction of dark power,” Rowan continues. “It corrupted me, you see. Made me do terrible things.”
Yeah, sure. Blame the magic, not the power-hungry jackass wielding it.
“I tried to turn over a new leaf,” he says, his voice taking on that sickening self-righteous tone. “Kept unsavory magic like necromancy out of Brighton. Kept the temptation away. But then you sneaked in anyway.” His eyes gleam with somethingthat makes my skin crawl. “Coming to find out what happened to your brother. And that... well, that changed things. I realized I couldn’t resist the temptation to do thingsrightthis time.”
Since I can’t tell him to shove his evil plans up his ass, I’m reduced to glaring at him with all the fury I can muster. The rage inside me feels like it could burn a hole through the wall, but instead, it just churns uselessly in my gut.
“My mistake last time was trying to act as a necromancer when I’m not one. I can’t speak to the dead or summon creatures from spiritual or infernal planes. I can’t control monsters.” His smile widens, showing too many teeth. “But I can controlthe manwho controls the monsters.”
He means me. He’s been setting me up to be his personal monster-summoning puppet.
I shake my head vehemently, trying to convey without words that there’s no fucking way I’m going along with this. I’m already imagining summoning dragons to rip his head off. For good measure, I slowly and carefully mouth ‘fuck you’ and flip him both middle fingers.
“I thought you might respond that way,” he says, his voice hardening. “That’s why I’ve taken precautions. Have you forgotten the mutt you waltzed in here with? Your friend Melody is locked up nearby. She’ll only stay safe if you obey.”
My stomach drops. Melody. She better be alright.
“And let’s not forget about Harper,” Rowan continues, twisting the knife. “He’s out in the world, hurt but still breathing. For now. You’ll do as I say or it won’t be you who suffers, Dodger. It will be those you love.”
I freeze, any defiance draining out of me.
“I’ll keep housing Melody and I won’t go after Harper, as long as you obey. It’s quite simple, really. You do what I say, they live. You don’t...” He shrugs, leaving the threat hanging in the air.
I have no reply. What can I say, even if I could make a sound? He’s got me trapped and he knows it. I can’t refuse him, not when Melody’s safety is on the line. Not when Harper could be next.
My hands clench into fists at my sides, and I need to scream and curse and punch this self-righteous asshole. I’m powerless, unable to give in to the fury that burns through me.
“Glad you’re starting to see things my way.” He smiles that oily smile again. “We’ll get started soon.”
The door slams shut. The lock clicks and then his footsteps fade away.
There’s nothing but silence. Complete, suffocating silence.
I slide down against the washing machine until I’m sitting on the cold tile floor, knees pulled up to my chest.
This is it. Rock bottom. I’ve failed everyone.
