Ellon turned to face Dimitri, dragging Blanca in front of him, his fingers digging deep into her neck. "What have you done to him?" he demanded, his voice low and crawling with menace. He shook her like a rag doll. His voice drooped an octave. Low. Insidious. It wrapped Blanca in velvet.
Tell me what you did to him. The voice was in her head, yet not on the same path Dimitri used.
With her last ounce of strength, she fought him, struggling for breath, struggling to keep him from pushing into her mind. Another chair flew at Ellon from his left. A slight wave of his hand stopped it in midair. It hovered there for a few seconds, then dropped harmlessly to the floor. All the while, those terrible fingers never left her throat, never let up that vise-like grip. He was crushing her easily, strangling her with one hand.
