Hunted

Twenty-Nine: An Apology of Sorts

The phone rang, each chime echoing in Elmhirst's head painfully. He gritted his teeth, reaching forward for the phone and grasping the receiver with a vicious anger.

He had spent the day, as he had spent the past weeks, trying to pry the truth from Freya Baak and yet he had nothing. She was unwilling to cooperate and as of yet he could not bring himself to lose another product. She was gifted and highly sought after, it was not worth it to kill her, not until he got what he wanted from her.

"Hello," he breathed, knowing that very few people had the academy number, predicting either Desmarais or one of the more affluent patrons.

An angry hiss echoed into his ear, a ragged fury that was palpable across the vast ocean that separated Kingston from the mainland. "I think I owe you an apology, oh yes," the unmistakably voice of Frank Nicholls breathed, his words stilted and sharp.

"Mr Nicholls, an apology? I don't understand," Elmhirst murmured in response, massaging the side of his temple. Nicholls' lisping voice was immediately recognisable.

"I have acquired something of late, something you may have been looking for," he hissed, his words strained.

Elmhirst sat forward, his body tensing, his blood pounding in his ears. There was only one thing he had been searching for of late, something he knew Nicholls had dearly wanted.

"You have her," Elmhirst hissed.

Nicholls chuckled. "Yes, to my own detriment, oh yes".

Elmhirst gritted his teeth, his fist tightening around the receiver with such force that it began to tremble beneath his grip. "I want her back - she has been deemed unfit for sale". He bit back the threats and promises of death that rose in his throat like bile.

"Well you can have her," he said. "I fear I won't be requiring her anymore, oh yes". He paused, the 's' sound drawn out painfully long.

"Nicholls, you stole from us - when I take her back I will have to..."

"There is no use in threatening me, John," came the reply. "I won't be here when you come for her. And if you don't come soon, neither will she".

Elmhirst gritted his teeth, his breath an angry hiss as he tried to reign in his temper.

"You chose to steal from us, Frank. I will ensure that you are hunted down and punished for taking such advantages," Elmhirst replied, his voice forcefully steady.

"Good luck trying," Nicholls sighed with a hissing laugh. And the phone went dead.

Elmhirst placed the receiver down, his fingers trembling with every movement. He stood up, the rage washing over him as he swept everything off his desk, sending his things crashing to the floor, a roar breaking from his chest, tearing his throat.

"Sir, is everything okay?" Bennett breathed, appearing in the door as if he had been prowling outside like a hyena, waiting for the smell of a fresh kill before slinking into view.

"No, it's not - not yet," he whispered, not looking at his weasel-featured drone. "But it will be. I've found Charlotte Owens".

Thanks so much for reading - this is only a quick side-note! I hope you enjoy and please don't forget to vote! Comments are so welcome - I love hearing what you have to say! XD Now... read on, for this weeks longer installment!!