When the elevator stopped, she followed Charla down a dark musty corridor lit by a string of industrial bulbs and entered a cavernous room with vaulted ceilings. The door swung shut behind them, and Victoria noticed that they weren't alone. A person in a black coat stood at the far end of the room.
The worn floors were marble and there were no windows. It didn't smell musty like the corridor had. In fact, it looked well used, and was quite architecturally dramatic, with faded but beautiful murals on the ceilings and huge crested plaques with medieval weapons hanging on the walls. Antique furniture dotted the far ends of the room, but the most of the floor space was uncovered. Victoria noticed that there were several other doors at the back of the room where the man remained standing.
She glanced around for Holly, expanded her awareness. Curiously, she couldn't make it respond. She tried again and failed. She thought she heard low laughter.
Victoria looked Charla full in the face, displaying no panic despite her pounding heart. "Where is Holly?" she said, enunciating each word. Charla ignored her and walked toward the man in the middle of the room. "Charla, where is Holly?" Victoria repeated more forcefully. Charla turned around, a strange expression on her face, a curious mixture of envy and hate, which she quickly masked.
"Holly, Holly, Holly ... where is Holly?" she mocked. "Holly is fine." Victoria clenched her fists.
"If you've hurt her—"
"Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on," Charla said. "Don't worry your precious Holly is safe. We made sure to take good care of her."
"Where is she?" Victoria repeated.
"Oh my God, are you deaf or just plain dumb?" Charla said. "She's here, you're here, everyone's here. It's our own private party." Victoria resisted the urge to scream and clenched her jaw, staring pointedly at Charla. "Oh, get over yourself, Tori, you really think we would hurt your stupid old aunt? She's over there." Charla jerked her head toward a door on one side of the room.
Victoria wanted to smash the smile off her face, but she didn't know if she was bluffing about Holly. Her eyes flickered to the silent figure still standing motionless halfway across the room. The amulet burned under her turtleneck.
"Show me," she said coolly. Charla threw her hands up in exasperation.
"You have legs, go see for yourself," she said with another shrug of her shoulder.
Victoria walked toward the side of the room, keeping her eyes on Charla. When she reached the tiny room that was little more than a cell, her knees almost gave out. Holly lay slumped in an armchair. She was unhurt and looked like she was sleeping. Victoria swayed, dizzy with relief.
"Holly?" she whispered.
"She can't hear you. Drugs." Charla studied her manicure. "I didn't want to waste them on her but—"
Victoria couldn't take it any longer. She summoned her energy, feeling it at the end of her fingertips like electricity, and focused coldly on Charla's monstrous face before releasing it without a second thought.
Nothing happened.
She could feel it crackling at the tips of her fingers and she tried again. Not a hair on Charla's head moved. There was sudden slow laughter from the person in the middle of the room, and he turned in agonizingly slow motion. He walked toward her his mouth twisted in a cruel smile until he was standing in front of her. Charla draped her hand around his waist and kissed him ardently on the mouth.
"As promised, delivered with a kiss," she said, as she rested triumphant, malevolent eyes on Victoria.
"Gabriel?" Victoria whispered in disbelief. She couldn't believe it. Was this about Christian?
He didn't respond, just stared at her with a strange expression on his face. It wasn't quite anger, more like irritated disappointment, and it made her feel as if she hadn't fulfilled some hidden expectation. She pulled the energy within and tried to teleport to Holly to get them both out. Her magic was responsive, willing, but still nothing happened. The slow, deep laughter erupted again from Gabriel's mouth, and Victoria felt the first tremor of anxiety run through her.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
"That's not going to work," he said.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, summoning up a bravado she didn't feel.
He stroked her cheek, and she swatted his hand away furiously. "Now, now, no need to be nasty. I meant your magic's not going to work. This place," he said, indicating the cavernous room, "is warded specifically for your magic." Victoria stared at him in disbelief as he smiled calmly. The smile faded as suddenly as it had come, and his lips twisted in a cruel grimace.
"My magic on the other hand works fine. Ictus torqueo!"
Victoria gasped painfully, doubling over at the severe, stabbing pain in her belly. His hand moved again, and she sank to the floor clutching her middle with her arms. It felt like someone was twisting a burning knife in her stomach.
"Stop, please," she said.
"Make her beg, Gabe!" Charla said, her voice echoing in the room. She crouched down to whisper viciously in Victoria's ear. "You should have seen what he did to your cat." Malice glittered in her eyes.