I can help

"Where did you send her?" Murray demanded.

One of the guards sneered but said nothing, slamming the heavy iron door shut with a resounding clang. He was unsure where Shelby had been taken to, as his guards had walked him in a different direction. As. A prisoner, he didn't have any say, and without his power, he was a sitting lamb, waiting to be slaughtered.

A dim crude torchlight flickered in the damp corridor, casting long, jagged shadows across the stone walls. Surprisingly, Murray was not perturbed by the place itself; his mind was all on his mistress, and he knew that he could get them out of the predicament.

'Who the hell is targeting the Mistress, and why does this power loss issue keep happening?!'

Murray had a hunch but did not dare make assumptions. All his memory resources needed to be used to get his duty done. He knew that Ian would skin him alive, in its literal sense, if anything happened to his wife. In short, he was worried.