Double Alchemy: Climax Read Online Free PDF

generally lapsed into talk about the Witchunters Alliance, the best way to fight it and of course the most discussed topic in hand currently: the hunt for the Witchfinder General and Quinn’s failure to find him after having him so closely in his sights. Quinn’s current nemesis, James Barton Sinclair, sat opposite him at the table, his rheumy green eyes in his florid face, his wine glass empty again as he gestured arrogantly to a passing waiter to fill it up for what Quinn thought was about the tenth time.
    Barton Sinclair looked at him with a sceptical expression. “So, Quinn, I understand you told everyone that the Warlock you killed—again—had two Withinners? I must confess I find that a tad difficult to believe. I’ve never even heard of such a thing. Are you sure you weren’t mistaken?”
    Quinn regarded James thoughtfully. “I saw them both leave his body. I can assure you I wasn’t seeing double.”
    “But you were hurt? Everyone knows the mind can play tricks on itself when the body is weak.”
    Quinn toyed with his whisky glass, his bad temper level increasing exponentially with every flick of Barton Sinclair’s fleshy pink tongue on his lips as he licked off wine with hedonistic enjoyment. “Yes, I was hurt. But I know what I saw.” He raised his eyes, meeting Barton Sinclair’s with an unflinching icy topaz gaze.
    The other man shrugged. “Perhaps but I have to say I still think something else was at play. Perhaps a trick of the light, or a desire to find an excuse so one can say one was actually fighting against all odds.” He smiled, the gesture not reaching his eyes. “I imagine you count yourself lucky that you did win that battle. The alternative—losing—would have been quite a humbling experience for a Fairmont.” His voice was sneering.
    The man is a buffoon. Can you not simply stick a knife in his ribs one night and toss his fat carcass into a river? If you invoke me, I will do it for you. No one can arrest me for his demise.
    Taliesin was definitely not happy with the turn of events and Quinn held down a chuckle at his Withinner’s words.
    Old friend, as much as that holds a great attraction for me, I’m afraid it’s not quite the way to go. He’ll get his comeuppance one day, I promise you.
    Percy Ballantyne, Quinn’s right-hand man in the Consortium, shifted at Quinn’s side and his face darkened at James’s words. He looked at Quinn with a frown and Quinn shook his head almost imperceptibly at him as Quinn regarded the West Country Marshall with a flinty stare.
    Time for payback.
    “James, sometimes I believe you think you are beyond all the necessary niceties to make sure someone stays on your side. I have to say it sounds like a fairly short-sighted approach.” Quinn looked down into his whisky glass. He was going to enjoy this next bit. “I understood from Percy that you’d put in an application for some funds from QuinnCo to re-build your current home after a bad storm and a landslide? Normally I wouldn’t countenance such a thing but as your house also doubles as a centre for bullied youngsters and a community meeting place, I was fairly disposed to grant you the quarter million pounds you said you needed. But it appears my generosity might have been too—how shall I say this—quickly predisposed toward a positive outcome.”
    He glanced mildly at Barton Sinclair, whose face had paled at Quinn’s words. Quinn knew Barton Sinclair was in dire need of those funds and the Grand Master leaned forward, his face hard.
    “Whilst you and I can agree to disagree on matters of Warlock concern, such as how we would both manage the Alliance, without it affecting anything else that may be connected, the one thing I won’t tolerate are personal slurs or inferences that I manufactured a story to protect my own skin. I tend to get rather tetchy about things like that.”
    The others around the table hid their grins at Quinn’s words. Barton Sinclair was not a man well liked