A Touch of Brimstone by McKenzie Hunter
13
Calling it a room was an understatement. If it had a kitchen, it could easily be an apartment. Striking in blush and white, the room boasted gorgeous elaborate ceiling moldings and a king-size bed with a beautiful, tufted headboard and aged wood frame. It all seemed far too elegant for me to wear my oversized shirt that paid homage to The Picture of Dorian Gray—which had seemed whimsical and cheeky while packing—and shorts.
The silk-patterned chaise lounge and a chic flared-arm sofa did nothing to minimize the size of the room. One side of the room was a window, bathing the room in warm light from the garden and providing a spectacular overhead view of crimson and black flowers and a pergola with drawn curtains and delicate warm lighting giving it a comforting ambiance.
The bathroom was a relaxing oasis, the light a pale hue, making it seemed candlelit. In a world of perpetual dusk, these people seemed to appreciate light.
Aware of Dominic watching me, I gave the room just a sweeping look, underappreciating the shower stall with the stacked stone walls and overhead shower that gave the impression of bathing under a waterfall. The free-standing stone tub, I could imagine emerging from and wrapping my body in towels from the warmer, letting all the drama of the day spill from me. That was the point. This wasn’t just a place to lay my head for the night, but a more subtle manipulation. Luring me into complacency.
Turning, I eyed him with suspicion. He seemed to bask in me being enamored by the room. It had its intended effect. Everything about this room was in diametric opposition to him and the situation. Soothing, warm lights, luxe and inviting furniture, the prospect of a warm shower, and even the picturesque view of the softly lit garden and pergola. Even the faint scent of lavender and chamomile made it difficult to stay enraged, and I desperately wanted to cling to my anger like a toddler gripping their favorite stuffed animal. It would serve me well not to underestimate or become too comfortable with the Prince of the Underworld.
But his words from earlier kept nagging at me. Had I made things worse, ensured that I wouldn’t survive? I wanted Nailah to tell me my fate hadn’t changed.
As people emerged from the shadows, placing food on the table in the pergola, I tightened my hold on my bag as if bolting out of the Underworld with it in hand was remotely an option.
“I thought it would be nice to have dinner in the garden.”
Really, dinner surrounded by flowers that were a staunch reminder of where I was and who I was with? Well, okay. At least he wasn’t trying to woo me.
“That would be nice.”
My easy response drew his attention. His brows lifted and his depthless eyes bored even harder into me. Placing my bag on the dresser, I gave him an affable smile. Make nice with the prince.
“Things between us do not have to be contentious,” I said.
“And yet you make it so.”
You’re making being nice really hard. Slow breaths. Don’t knee the prince.
“I’m here to help.”
He scoffed. “You’re here because it’s the pathway to your safety. Let’s not pretend otherwise. It diminishes us both.” His amber eyes danced with fire, and pulling my eyes from them seemed impossible. Was it my imagination or had the room grown hot? It felt sweltering.
“I want my prisoners returned, I want to stop a war, and I want to counter an insurrection. You play an important role in that. Make no mistake, you are a tool. It’s up to you whether you will be one of use.”
So that was his less than subtle way of pointing out my role in determining whether I lived or died. I started to point that out, when he swallowed the space between us and pressed his fingers to my lips. “Don’t answer yet. Think about it, Luna, because your actions will determine your fate. It is in your hands.”
The only thing I could think about was snapping at his finger like a rabid animal. He silenced me.Who does that? My face gave me away every time, and it hadn’t failed this time. The prince removed his finger and turned away and headed for the door.
“Dinner should be ready in an hour. I trust you won’t have any problem finding your way.”
He wasn’t wrong. I paid careful attention to everything, mapping out the house and observing the rooms that were kept closed and the ones where the doors were slightly ajar and anything I could glean from my vantage point. If me slowly following Dominic and stopping to get my bearings bothered him, he didn’t voice it.
One hour to dinner. I took advantage of it and put on paper the Venn diagram that had formed in my head of Dominic’s and his sister’s magical abilities after seeing her grow claws. Any information I had to help make sense of this world and better navigate it was important. At this point, no information was too miniscule, especially discovering the magic of the Prince and Princess of the Underworld and how it intersected or aligned with other supernaturals.
Amoral and possibly sociopathic tendencies seemed to be common to all. Helena and Dominic appeared to possess forms of magic from all groups, so they were inclined toward those behaviors even more. I didn’t care if my bachelor’s in library science didn’t qualify me to make a clinical diagnosis; this was about self-preservation. And as far as I was concerned, I was dealing with people who were even more dangerous because they shared qualities with witches, shifters, and vampires. Off to the side was Nailah, clearly an exception to the rule. Or was she?
There were holes in my information about Dominic and Helena because I didn’t know the extent of their magical ability compared to other supernaturals. How much could they shift? Could they shift into any animal or where they limited to one animal or species? Did they have magical abilities like the Mors? What were their limitations in zoning or whatever they called their form of teleportation? Hopefully over dinner, I’d get some questions answered. The two most pressing things I needed from Dominic were a promise that my family and friends would be safe and the ability to navigate between this world and mine without an escort, if possible. I had a strong feeling it was possible, and he had led people to believe he’d destroyed all the Trapsens.
Dominic was waiting in the kitchen. Surprise flashed briefly on his face. He smiled, a genuine smile. That was as dangerous as his magic. Shifting my attention quickly, I looked past him at the garden, letting some of the potency ease away.
“I’m glad you decided to join me,” he said. The disarming smile had settled nicely on his face and remained as he filled two glasses of wine from the bottle on the counter.
Would you have left me alone if I hadn’t?Play nice. I simply smiled, took the proffered glass, and walked out of the house toward the garden. Dominic headed down a trail leading away from the food on the table on the patio. My stomach wasn’t thrilled about that. Dinner wasn’t just an information-seeking endeavor but also to mend my tattered relationship with Dominic, negotiate the safety of my family and friends, and lay the groundwork to enter the Underworld unaccompanied. And eat.
Him steering me through the garden pricked at the defiance in me, but I knew it was just me grappling for some vestige of control.
His steps slowed to leisurely movements. He was taking in the garden as if appreciating it for the first time. A faint floral fragrance scented the air. The slight breeze that seemed strangely oceanic had me looking around for a pond. There wasn’t one. I gave a side-eye to the man who could create fire. Did he have the same ability with wind and water?
“Is there ever light here?” I asked, increasing my speed to walk next to him.
He shook his head, looked around the artificially lit area, and returned his attention to me, canting his head and giving me an evaluating look. “But that’s not where your curiosity lies, is it, Luna? Ask your real questions.” He stopped our stroll to continue looking at me. I had to work on keeping my thoughts from my face. It’s the very reason I refuse to play poker. Bad hand, you will definitely know about it. Great hand and my beam is a sunburst.
The warm light from the lanterns made his eyes glint. Taking a small sip from my glass, I sorted through the many questions I had.
“The hardest part is I don’t know how far out of my depth I am. You have one faction that wants to reveal themselves to humans, another that will do anything to keep that from happening, and you’re keeping some horrible people alive because they might be needed in case of a war. It seems like it would be easier to just let them be discovered and let humans get involved. It would take away this burden. Supernaturals would have to fall in line or deal with humans and our military,” I said.
Being candid had its merits and left no room for ambiguity. I hoped he returned my candor and gave me straight answers.
He plucked a rose and handed it to me. I took it and inhaled its scent, using that time to recall what he’d done to me. I wouldn’t be lured into putting my guard down.
“A vampire can create a family of hundreds in a week. At ten days old, a well-fed vampire can move faster than your bullets, can compel anyone to fight on their behalf, and can kill before the victim can fully grasp that they’re about to die.”
Dominic studied my face. I wish I knew what he saw because it seemed quite amusing. I inhaled his distinctive scent. His proximity crowded out the redolence of the flowers around us.
Taking my hand that held the rose, he brought it to his nose and inhaled. Moving closer, he devoured any space between us. I was standing in a black-and-crimson garden, with an ocean breeze coming from who the hell knew where, and Dominic was telling me even more horrific things about supernaturals while his face rested just inches from mine.
Focus.I stepped back and took another small sip, teetering between wanting to stay sober through the information and the need to be numb enough to handle it. When he resumed walking, I sidled up next to him.
“Shifters love rules and order, which is why they form packs and thrive best in a hierarchal system.” His eyes continued to study my face. The smile still beveled his lips. “Don’t think for a minute they haven’t infiltrated your military, your police, your government. Although shifters are born and not created, there are more of them than you can imagine.” With a sidelong look, he added, “If discord arises between shifters and humans, shifter loyalty will always be to shifters. You already know how hard it is to kill a shifter. Add their speed and strength and humans have no chance of survival against them.”
We changed direction, heading toward the patio. The food beckoned me, but I continued to focus on him. I needed this information.
“And witches, what chance do you think humans have against them?” he queried, stopping in his tracks in anticipation of an answer that I couldn’t give.
“They must have a weakness. Vampires can be staked and silver affects shifters. You’re telling me that witches don’t have an Achilles heel?”
“Ah, they do. Iridium metal prevents them from performing magic. It needs to be a cuff at least three inches wide. Anything smaller weakens them but doesn’t inhibit their magic. There are some archaic spells that can obstruct it and weaken them. But good luck finding the spellbooks that contain those spells. Witches have spent much of their lives and resources wiping them from existence.”
“But you have some.”
I took his sly smirk as an admission. “Witches have no need to align with humans to protect themselves. Of the supernaturals, they are the most adaptive. Before technology, there was no such thing as techno-magic. Now there are witches who are experts at it. What controls your planes, missiles, bombs, and communication? Technology. Witches have the ability to control weather, time travel, and perform strong defensive magic. Seers are loosely aligned to witches, which gives them a prescient advantage. You are under the naïve illusion that humans would be a match against us. It wouldn’t even be close. It wouldn’t be humans against a few supernaturals, it would be against all of them. Alliances would form against the common enemy. Humans.”
His hand pressed gently against my back, guiding me along another path, toward the patio. The curtains of the pergola were tied back, revealing a large round stone table with a marble top and a centerpiece of rose petals floating in a low bowl, illuminated by candles. A meal of glazed chicken, salad, roasted carrots, and an assortment of breads was laid out, along with two bottles of wine. I had no intention of drinking any more, but I’d probably get a chocolate high from gorging on the platter of decadent-looking chocolates. Forgoing the plate Dominic placed in front of me, I ate two chocolates and knew the platter was coming with me. I sipped on water between bites of food. Dominic took more sips from his glass of wine than he took bites of food.
“Do you not need to eat?” I finally asked.
“I eat.”
The vagueness of his answer made me wonder if this was another thing he had in common with vampires.
“I eat food,” he offered, amusement flickering across his face. He read me too well, and that was going to be a problem. Although Dominic was content with the ensuing silence, I wasn’t. I hoped the two glasses of wine he’d drunk meant he’d be even more free with information, although I suspected alcohol didn’t affect him the way it did humans. Perhaps it was just an indulgence that he thoroughly enjoyed.
With each sip, he made the wine seem even more enticing. I took a small sip from the glass he’d poured for me.
That pleased him.
“I’m glad you tried it. No need to be so guarded with me, Luna. As you said, we don’t need to be adversarial. Our interests align, despite our motives being different.”
“Exactly.” I raised my glass to him, took another small sip, and set it on the table. “But you have to understand my lack of knowledge makes me a weakness, not an asset.”
“Of course, Luna,” he said in a cool, husky voice. Despite schooling all emotions from my face, his expression held a knowing look. He seemed unconvinced that my interest was solely in order to be a better asset. Suspicion existed between us and complicated our tenuous alliance.
“How can I make this better for you?” Dominic asked.
The BS between us was stacked high and reeked. But we ignored it and continued with our faux pleasantries, aware that the only thing that aligned us was mutual distrust and strategic maneuvering for the advantage.
“What troubles you, Luna?”
His question snapped the tendril that was holding things together for me.
“All of it, Dominic! Four days ago, I was the weird one because of my odd reading choices. I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that anything in The Discovery of Magic was remotely true.”
“Most of what’s in The Discovery of Magic isn’t remotely true,” he said drily.
“I know, but the factual information about supernaturals is even more difficult to process. The most complex thing about all the new information is you.”
Amusement flashed. “Me?”
“Yep. I need to know about your magic as it relates to other supernaturals. How similar is it? You can go between here and my world, a version of what vampires can do. You can do spells, control elements, and…” Helena could grow claws and slice and dice people like a well-dressed wolverine. What she did wasn’t exactly shifter-ish, but it was an aspect of it. Dominic traveled through the worlds with ease, and he possessed strong magical abilities. “Helena has claws. Do you? Can you shift like the shifters? One minute, will I be standing in front of you, a man—or whatever you are—and the next I need to give you a raw steak or doggie treat to distract you from attacking?”
His lips twitched but he didn’t give in to the smile. He put down his glass. His eyes remained trained on me as he pushed from his chair and walked to me. His eyes locked with mine as his index finger elongated and the nail extended into a gruesome and scary-looking claw.
A sharp breath caught in my throat when he ran it along my neck with so much control that it was a feather touch grazing over my skin. A shiver ran through me when he leaned in closer.
“I can’t shift into an animal, so no treats necessary,” he whispered, his warm breath teasing my bottom lip. The solitary claw vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Once he had eased away, I grabbed another chocolate from the platter, slowly unwrapping it from the gold paper, and popped it in my mouth. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction of either my fear or my intrigue.
“Continue,” I told him. “I don’t need the watered-down version.”
He didn’t immediately speak. Perhaps he was debating how much to share with me. I forced a look of impassivity and waited patiently.
“Unlike the shifters, silver doesn’t bother me. My magic is strong, comparable to a Strata Three witch, but I can’t control the weather and I don’t possess any techno-magical abilities. I don’t have seer abilities, either, which is why we employ Nailah… who seems to have a soft spot for you.” His eyes sharpened on me, his lips pulling into a thin, tight line. Nailah’s information sharing hadn’t gone unnoticed. “I’m skilled at spell casting and weaving, but to the witches’ disappointment, I do not share their weakness to iridium.”
“But you do have weaknesses?”
He chuckled. “Of course, but none that I care to share.”
“You can zone?”
He shook his head. “Unlike the vampires, I don’t zone. I can only move between the Underworld and another location. For example, if I travel to your apartment, I must return home first before going to another destination.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. The disclosure of his limitation and information was clearly a struggle for him. He took a slow sip of wine. Both of us were in a state of wary apprehension. It weighed so heavily on me, it was doubtful that I kept it from my expression.
“Go on, Luna,” he urged. Averting my gaze to the garden, I tried to work out how to make my request in a persuasive way. This was a delicate dance.
“We both want this over and I just can’t totally stop my life to be at your beck and call, and I’m sure you have other responsibilities as well. I believe it would advantageous to us both if I didn’t have to rely on you or Anand to travel here.”
“You’d like to come to the Underworld freely, without an escort?” He seemed surprised.
“Not indefinitely. Just until the spells are undone. Then we return to our normal lives. You imprisoning the most horrible of the supernaturals while apparently pissing off the others, and me to my family, friends, job, and normal life with none of this.” I waved my hand, including him in it along with the mystical garden. It was a place of unique beauty that under any other circumstances I would have found enchanting.
“Is that what you truly want?” he asked. That confirmed he hadn’t destroyed all the Trapsens; he just didn’t want anyone else to have one.
My mind was winding around everything Nailah told me. Despite my suspicion that he was aware of everything she’d disclosed, I was committed to not betraying any of her confidences. I had to navigate delicately.
I nodded. Without Dominic and Anand being so entwined in my daily life, if things went into a downward spiral, I could escape. I had four thousand dollars in my savings account. It wouldn’t get me far, but I could lie low enough to figure things out.
“And?” he asked. “There seems to be more, Luna.” Relaxing back against the chair, he stared at me, cold wariness moving over his face. The smoldering fire in his eyes sent chills through me.
“I have every intention of helping you undo the spells, but I need to know that my friends and family are safe. No more erasing their memories—”
“I didn’t erase his memories, I simply manipulated aspects of it so he would forget the ring and what you told him.”
“Exactly. I want to protect the people I care about from that. Leave them out of this. I need you to make that oath to me and that whatever happens, I come out on the other side, alive and unharmed.”
It was a big ask. Go big or go home. Although going home wasn’t really an option.
Dominic’s jaw clenched like he was biting back words. Was he about to deny the request or stop himself from agreeing?
“He won’t make such a promise to you,” Helena hissed, a wine bottle in one hand and partially filled oversized wine glass in the other. She had changed into a shimmering, billowy, mint-green, long-sleeve dress. The severe bun she’d pulled her hair into made her features appear sharper.
Unconstrained anger filled her eyes, and it was directed solely at Dominic. “My brother is calculating and strategic at all times. For now, you are of use to him. Despite him finding you entertaining, it adds little value to your life. If he determines there’s more benefit to your death, he won’t think twice. But you don’t know that, do you, Luna?” She was gifted with her brother’s ability to add just the right inflection, modulation, and venom to make my name sound like a curse. Like something vile to be spat out.
Peeling her eyes from Dominic’s, she finally looked at me, staring at me over the glass before tossing back the remainder of the wine. “For now, you’re the queen in his game of chess. He will protect the queen, sacrificing anyone as a pawn to do so, including me.” She put the bottle and glass on the table and yanked up her sleeves, revealing rust-color interlocking glyphs encircling both of her wrists like manacles.
Dominic maintained a chilly indifference as he leveled his eyes with hers.
“You weren’t sacrificed. You offered yourself as a sacrifice by your actions,” he said, then took a leisurely drink, banked fire hot in his glare.
I shot up to standing, backing away when Helena grabbed the wine bottle off the table, smashed it against the edge, and pointed the jagged edges of the bottle at him.
Fuck this psychotic family. This level of dysfunction was only acceptable in poorly scripted TV. I did not know what to do. Should I attempt to deescalate the situation? Was that even possible? Or maybe this was the time to call their father? Hey, Lord of the Underworld, come get your terrible ass kids. One is about to assault the other. The one being assaulted doesn’t seem too worried about it.
Dominic remained unbothered, choosing to take another slow, indulgent sip from his glass.
Helena’s anger was stormy and pervasive. “Return my fucking magic!” Helena shrieked, bringing the jagged glass toward his neck, which Dominic was so kindly baring to her. A taunt and a challenge.
Frozen in indecision, Helena seemed coiled for violence. Her breath came at irregular clips. It might have been the first time she didn’t give in to her first impulse. That denial showed in the furl of her frown.
In helpless rage, she released the bottle at his feet. While they held each other’s stare in an icy silence that stretched, I became a voyeur, gawking at a family dispute instead of having the good grace to look away.
I snapped myself out of it and started to slowly inch away from them, afraid that a sudden movement would draw her ire. Her need for violence was wound so tight, it was just looking for a target.
“As you pointed out, I protect the queen. And far too often, a princess undeserving of such protections,” Dominic whispered.
The moment was forged in hostility. She glared back at me, her hatred intensified by the belief that I had dethroned her. I did not want her to believe that or to think she needed to wrench the position back by any means.
“I hate you!” Helena bellowed. I thought it was directed at me—after all, she probably blamed me for her magic being restricted and not her clawing her brother’s face. But a declaration with such impassioned vehemence came from years of emotional connection. It could never be directed at some random stranger—despite how she perceived my part in having her magic restricted. And that’s exactly who I was. Some random stranger, pulled into this complex world, who had caused cataclysmic problems.
“A pronouncement you make often when you are forced to deal with a miniscule consequence for your actions. You hate me. Okay. That dagger has dulled from overuse. Find another way to hurt me, you’ve exhausted that one.”
She whipped around, stomping past me while Dominic stood and began picking up the large pieces of glass. It seemed to provide a moment of catharsis.
“Luna, you may return to your seat. We have more to discuss.”
We did, but we weren’t going to do it then. I wanted—no, needed to be away from him.
“We can talk later. Perhaps you need some time to mend things with Helena.”
“The mere fact you suggested that shows you do not know my sister,” he offered with a wry twist of his lips. He was still gathering the broken glass as if there was something symbolic in the gesture—cleaning up a mess that Helena had created.
“Goodnight, Dominic,” I said.
He looked up momentarily and smiled at the sight of me grabbing handfuls of chocolates.
“We’ll talk later.”
“Tomorrow, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
Before he could object, I moved swiftly toward the house, stopping at the fridge to get some water before going to my room. I locked the door and pushed one of the accent chairs in front of it. It was doubtful it would do anything to stop anyone in this house from entering, but it gave me a small sense of security. At least I’d hear it move.
Pacing the floor, I thought that despite Helena’s histrionics, there was truth to the things she said about Dominic. Him being calculating wasn’t a surprise, but I wondered at what point he would perceive my life as a liability rather than an asset. Unformed plans and tactics ran rapidly through my mind, but none had a high rate of success because magic, the supernaturals’ world, and their rules were unreliable variables.
A ragged breath caught in my throat at the knock on the door.
“May I come in?” Dominic’s voice was low, entreating.
“No.”
The chair against the door slid from its position, levitated, and was eased down in a silent, sweeping movement that rendered its purpose obsolete. A sliver glow flicked along the inside of the door and Dominic strolled in, hands in pockets, face expressionless, and pitfall-deep eyes sharpening on me.
“Why ask if I didn’t have a choice?”
He shrugged. “The illusion of choice can be comforting.”
“Anything tied to this situation has no comfort.” Including you.
Walking farther into the room, his eyes dropped from mine. “We hadn’t finished our conversation.”
“I felt it was necessary for you to resolve the issue between you and Helena so your next interaction isn’t a homicide.”
“Helena was just venting,” he offered in a tone too passive for someone who had enraged his sibling to the point of them holding a broken bottle to their throat.
“Well, it was kind of you to give her better access to those vital arteries she was aiming for.”
His lips curled slightly and he lifted his eyes to meet mine, showing a primal amusement.
We fell into an uneasy silence.
“Are you two always so…” I searched for the word. Dysfunctional? Masochistic? Ridiculous? Unhinged? “Intense?”
“Sometimes Helena doesn’t like me very much.”
I wasn’t sure she even loved him. I saw the rampant hate in her eyes and the thirst for retaliation.
“What about you?”
“Sometimes I don’t like her, either.”
That was fair. Three years older than my twenty-three-year-old brother, I got into fights with him that devolved into childish antics. But I could proudly report neither one of us clawed each other’s face or held a broken bottle to the other’s throat. Despite our fights, we still loved each other. I wasn’t sure that was true with him and Helena.
“Our conversation, we never finished it,” he reminded me. I wondered if he didn’t like revealing that part of him or being reminded of the dysfunction of their relationship.
“Is there anything more to discuss? Based on what Helena said, you’d never make a promise to protect my life.”
His jaw clenched and with some effort, it relaxed. “You would like a way to return here on your own, correct?”
This was his concession and the only thing I’d get from him.
“It would make things easier.” My heart pounded at the anticipation of some freedom. Leniency in supervision would give me some options of escape if necessary.
He nodded once. “I think that’s a good idea. I will make those arrangements.”
When he started in my direction, I shuffled back a few steps, increasingly aware of his all-consuming presence. There was a feeling of something ominous and foreboding lurking just barely below the surface.
I held my breath, realizing they were coming at rapid clicks at his approach. He touched my hair, running his hand lightly over the loose strands that had fallen from my ponytail, twining them around his fingers, holding my eyes the entire time. With one quick jerk, he pulled out some strands and was at the door before I could react.
“What’s wrong with you! Why are you trying to bald me?”
Chuckling, he knelt at the threshold, laying the strands across it. He whispered, said a few words, and as at my home, light flashed before revealing a diaphanous wall that quickly faded.
“No one can enter, not even me.” Then he was gone.
I wasn’t sure if it was irritation, or the tingling from my hair being yanked out, or disappointment in myself for my fleeting moment of wanting a little more. There was a part of me curious to know what it would feel like to have his supple lips on mine. Did he have the same ardent intensity during sex? My intrigue hadn’t stopped there. My thoughts and eyes had lingered over the shirt molded to what was an obviously well-sculpted chest and stomach.
Luna,I scolded myself, forcing my thoughts to the members of the Conventicle and how they had looked at him, and the cool indifference in his eyes when he bared his neck to his sister. How could I forget the malicious intent in his face when he circled me in fire? And I had to remember what Helena said about the volatility of his protection of my life. Hormones be damned. He was not the guy I should fawn over.