The door slammed shut behind Alex. The room looked like a high-tech magical control room that wouldn’t look out of place in a futuristic sci-fi movie.

  “I feel like I just stepped onto the Enterprise.” Alex said as he looked around in wonder.

  Markov slapped the back of his head with the stun rod, warning him to be quiet.

  Alex gritted his teeth and swallowed the retort, knowing that it would do nothing to help him. He stared defiantly at Markov for a few seconds before averting his eyes, acting defeated.

  A skinny man with a skittish demeaner was sitting at a desk filled with various controls, switches, and glowing orbs that looked like crystal balls. He was muttering into one of the swirling crystals, and for a second, Alex thought he saw an image of Matt pacing in the prison cell inside orb like it was a real crystal ball.

  The orb went dark, and the man flashed a guilty look at them.

  Not the sharpest tool in the shed, is he?

  Luckily, Markov’s focus was still on Alex, so he didn’t see the panic that briefly froze the other man in place.

  Sylus was wearing a head covering reminiscent of an Egyptian headdress or Indian gotra with orange and blue stripes that stood out against his white shirt and pants, and he immediately reminded him of an old movie character named Beni Gabor.

   Vi said, sensing Alex’s need to be distracted.

   Alex said defensively.

   She pointed out.

  

  

   Alex asked incredulously.

  < Dr. Doofenshmirtz with a perm?> Vi countered immediately.

   Alex paused, trying to think of a reason to reject it.

   Alex admitted.

   Vi said as soon as he finished the thought.

  Alex hung his head in shame. Not only was he going to be violated by Dr. Doofenshmirtz with a perm, but his own power too?

  “Watch them, Sylus.” Markov said, nodding towards Alex and then towards the direction of Matt in the other room. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid while I’m busy. Raymond should be coming in, but he might not arrive until after I am already done.”

  The other man nodded, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Alex. Fear radiated from Sylus so palpably that Alex would have laughed in different circumstances. Apparently, this behavior was nothing new, because Markov had no reaction to Sylus’s squirrely behavior.

  Alex was steered towards an empty space on the left side of the room. When they reached the stone wall, a section of it swung open, revealing a metal door. Curious, Alex leaned closer and realized that the stone wall was actually made of a dark gray wood magically disguised to look like stone. Markov took a large ring of keys from his robe, unlocked it, and shoved Alex through.

  Alex’s heart began to pound at the familiar sight of the room. It was a larger circular room carved out of the very stone. A long stone table sat in the center of the room, the floor ever so slightly sloping down towards the center, a small metal grate centered under the table that looked uncomfortably like a sacrificial altar. The floor, walls, and ceiling were covered in runic drawings. Multi-colored streams of magic swirled faintly off the walls, but Alex could tell that most of them were currently inactive.

  The air in the room felt chaotic and oppressive. The magic in the air shimmering sporadically with unstable energy and Alex felt like his eyes were being over stimulated. The room was dark, but there were candles placed throughout the chamber, the dim light of the burning wicks adding to the already eerie ambiance of the room.

  Markov locked the door behind him, pocketing the keys before grabbing Alex by the arm and dragging him over to the table.

  "Sit," Markov commanded, pressing the rod's tip into Alex's spine. Alex obeyed, turning and sitting on the table. Markov, ensuring the stun rod remained in contact, walked around the table and began untying the ropes that secured Alex's hands.

  “Now lay down and put your arms over your head. Don’t try anything boy, or this will be so much worse.”

  Alex clenched his jaw in frustration, but he laid down and lifted his arms up.

  With swift efficiency, Markov secured his hands with a rune-etched rope, anchoring it to a floor-mounted ring. He repeated the process with Alex's feet. Freed from the immediate threat, Markov visibly relaxed, his arrogant facade returning. Alex had always hated people like this: Cowards that prey on the defenseless but shrink back in fear as soon as they see someone willing to stand up to them.

  “Before we begin, I have some questions for you. I would like you and me to get to know each other better and the degree of your discomfort is contingent upon your cooperation.”

  “You and ‘I’.” Alex corrected before he could stop himself.

  Alex’s head snapped painfully to the right from Markov’s backhanded slap.

  Alex began to chuckle, but Markov’s hand closed around his throat.

  “Raymond told me that you had some balls. But you do not want to test me.” He said, leaning over him as he spoke.

  He let go of Alex and walked to over to a giant cabinet and opened it.

  "You know," Alex said, deliberately clearing his throat. “For someone who spends most of their time conducting methodical research, you have surprisingly poor impulse control."

  Markov ignored the jab and dragged an empty cart over to a storage area containing magical tools. He began pulling various items out of the cabinets and placed them in the cart.

  “And what about you?” Markov asked in a polite voice. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.”

  “Well, my name is Alexander Drake. I’m laid back, down to earth, and love a good rom-com. I like long walks on the beach and watching sunsets. I’m a glass half-full kind a guy, but I've been told I have a penchant for getting myself in trouble.”

  Markov wheeled the cart over and picked up a ceremonial knife and a chalice so wide that it looked more like a bowl with a handle. Intricate runes and depictions of grotesque monsters were etched into the golden container, glowing greasily with the magic that surrounded it.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  “How droll.” He said, rolling his eyes. “Not quite what I’m looking for, though.”

  He walked over to Alex and sliced open his right arm, the skin parted easily as he ran the blade from elbow to wrist. The cut was shallow, but Markov was gliding the knife down Alex’s arm slowly, trying to make sure that most of the blood flowed down his arm before dripping off and into the goblet. Alex hissed in pain but was able to stop himself from crying out.

  “Okay, okay!” He said, barely able to keep the panic from his voice. “I-I am an artist! Not a good one, but I can draw. Landscapes mostly, unless you don't mind coming out a bit... funny looking. I am also pretty good on the guitar. Any instrument really – my mother did her best to keep me out of the house as much as possible, so I was always taking some kind of music lesson. I can sing too, if you want I can-”

  Markov slapped him heavily causing Alex to bite his tongue.

  Alex grunted and spat a glob of blood at Markov. He contemptuously tilted his head to the side, and it sailed past him harmlessly.

  “Your defiance is inspiring, outworlder. But I grow tired of your babbling. It appears that I have overestimated your intelligence, so allow me to be a little more precise: Where are my books?”

   Vi said.

  Oops.

  Before he could stop himself, Alex said. “You’re looking for books?” His face briefly scrunched up in a look of confusion before lighting up with realization. “Have you checked the library? Are you looking for something in parti-”

  Markov slapped him with the dispassionate air of someone swatting at a fly that was buzzing around his food.

  “I went through your things, and you don’t have a dimensional bag. There are too many for you to simply hide without me finding them, so that must mean you have a dimensional storage power.”

  Markov placed the tip of the dagger against Alex’s shoulder and turned the blade to the left, and then the right until it was spinning back and forth like a top.

  Markov stared at him. The question and the threat explicit in his silence.

  Alex looked from the blade – for the moment – spinning harmlessly on his shoulder to Markov. A hesitant, cheesy smile spread across his face as if to say, you know you can’t stay mad at me, I’m too cute.

  “Where are they?!” Markov yelled as Alex opened his mouth to speak.

  Alex screamed as pain blossomed from his shoulder, but he stopped himself from trying to break free of the ropes that bound him.

   Vi said, her voice providing him with a feeling of encouragement, despite sounding as though she was barely interested in what was going on.

  “Okay, okay, okay!” Alex chanted through clenched teeth as he nodded vigorously.

  Markov stopped pushing on the dagger and smiled, clearly thinking that Alex was talking to him.

  “Have you checked with your man out there?” Alex asked, nodding towards the door. “Shifty little fellow, isn’t he? Doesn’t really seem to agree with what you’re doing down here.”

  Markov yanked the dagger from his shoulder and tossed it onto the cart.

  “Maybe you aren’t that dumb after all. Sadly, it’ll take a little more than that, if you want me to start suspecting my own people.”

  “Oh, I can give you more than that.” Alex promised with a smile of such hostile confidence that Markov paused.

  An expression of genuine curiosity filled his face, and he motioned for Alex to continue. However, Alex didn’t miss that briefest flicker of doubt when his eyes subconsciously flicked to the door where Sylus was supposedly standing guard on the other side, and his smile widened as he spoke.

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about him.” Alex said, jerking his head towards the door.

  “He is way too scared of you to be stupid enough to actually betray you.” Alex said if a condescending laugh. “But Raymond, on the other hand? We both know that he’s plenty stupid enough for that.”

  Markov laughed, but his eyes glittered darkly. “And why would Raymond betray me?”

  “For the same reasons he almost killed me multiple times despite you explicitly telling him not to put me in any real danger.”

  Alex leaned forward, motioning Markov to come closer and whispered conspiratorially, “He simply couldn’t help himself.”

  Alex let out a giddy chuckle, as though he just finished telling him a dirty joke, but Markov's gaze was flat and dangerous.

  The suppressed anger in Markov’s eyes let Alex know that his words had struck some chord of truth or suspicion in Markov, and that if could be exploited. He knew he would never actually convince Markov that Raymond betrayed him, but he didn’t care if he could convince him, he only needed distract him long enough for Matt to come in and kick his ass.

   Vi said, calling him out.

  Alex ignored her and lifted a dubious eyebrow at Markov. “

  What? You think I’m wrong?” he asked.

  “Raymond is an idiot, but he knows his place. He wouldn’t dare betray me. And even if he did: he wouldn’t stick around here afterwards.”

  “When was the last time you’ve seen him besides in passing? He always seems like he is kind of in a hurry lately, doesn’t he?”

  Alex had no idea how often the two men spent time together, but the worst Markov would do if Alex was wrong would laugh and shrug off the accusation.

   Vi offered helpfully.

  He must have been close enough to the truth though, because Markov’s brow furrowed.

  “Raymond isn’t just an idiot – he's a snake. There is nothing warm or caring about him. Any outwards appearance of emotions other than bloodlust is just that: an outwards appearance. He has no idea what actual emotions feel like. That man is incapable of feeling anything outside of slaking his own personal gratification, and I think you’ve known that for a long time. It’s only a matter of time before Matt’s friends catch up with him here – if they haven’t already. You really think Raymond wouldn’t give you up the second he’s confronted to save his own skin?”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Markov said with a shrug, refusing to further engage with Alex’s bait. “But what about you? Would you give up someone to save yourself?”

  The question was more than just an easy riposte to Alex’s probing rhetoric and Markov smirked as he saw the momentary look of wariness in Alex’s eyes before covering it with an expression of polite confusion.

  “You are quick, aren’t you?” He said, wagging a finger at Alex. “I Have no illusions about Raymond, but if anyone was going to betray me it would be my self-righteous aunt or that weak-willed husband of hers. I’ll have to pay her a visit when I am done here. She seemed a little too fond of you when I spoke to them. Maybe she was the one that let you out of the holding cell?”

  Damn and double damn.

  “Leave them alone, it was all me.” Alex said coldly and Markov’s grin widened into a serpent’s smile.

   Vi warned.

  “They drugged and locked me in the holding cell like they were supposed to. If anyone is to blame for my escape, it’s you. If you spent a little more time upkeeping the cages, the bars wouldn’t have been so rusted that I was able to break out. I tried escaping out the door Hendry came through, but he managed to close it, locking me in there with him. He wouldn’t tell me how to open it so I kicked his ass and locked him in one of the cells before going deeper into the lab, hoping there would be another way out. Eventually I came across the library and I figured I might as well -”

  “So, you did steal them. Where are they?” Markov demanded, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing with surprising strength.

  “I can’t tell you if you keep choking me!” Alex managed to get out as he slapped ineffectually at the hands around his neck.

  Markov released him and Alex dissolved into a coughing fit, loudly trying to suck in air in between each cough.

  “Yeah, I’ve been told I kind of have a problem with stealing, sorry about that.” Alex said, giving him a sheepish grin. “But you seem to really want them, so how about a trade? You let Matt and I go, and you can have the books. Two people for a couple hundred books seems fair, don’t you think?”

  With a roar, Markov snatched up the knife from the cart and held it in front of Alex’s face, the point of the blade stopping barely a fingers breadth away from his eye.

  Markov gave him a sudden charming smile but none of the warmth reached his eyes. The only thing more disconcerting than the sudden rage, was the calm, dead look in his eyes that quickly replaced it.

   Alex thought with a shiver.

  “Here is my counteroffer.” Markov said conversationally. “You give me my books back, or I cut off your hands. Maybe that will help solve your little stealing problem. Two hands for a couple hundred books seems fair, don’t you think?”

  “Fair enough.” Alex agreed with a gulp, not doubting for a second that Markov was bluffing. “We should probably do it after though, yeah? It’ll get a little cramped in here... With the number of books and all... We could head out to the control room and do it now, if you want?”

  Markov sneered, tapping Alex on the tip of the nose with the point of the blade like he was a naughty boy. Moving the blade, he pressed it against the soft skin of Alex’s neck. Lightly, he drew it across his throat, putting just enough pressure on it to cause blood to well up from a thin cut.

  “Careful with that sharp tongue of yours, outworlder. You might accidentally cut your own throat if you’re not careful.”

  “You’re the one holding the knife. Besides, I’m a little tied up at the moment. Can’t really give you the books if I bleed out. And without me, you may never get them back.” Alex said, rattling the metal ring he was tied to emphasize his current helplessness.

  “You’re right, it was an empty threat; I need you alive... for now. Looks like we have much to look forward to. I’m dying to find out just how deep your defiance runs.”

  “Oh, I hope you do.” Alex said with a humorless smile.

  Any time now Matt... Please come save my ass, I don't know how much longer I can do this.