A Touch of Brimstone by McKenzie Hunter

17

Inavigated from my world to Dominic’s massive estate in a fugue state, unable to get Jackson’s look of defeat out of my mind. It was as if he’d failed to stop an accident. Despite his unsettling mien, his insistency was protective. Even Helena’s searing glare as I passed her in the home’s entrance, arms crossed over her chest, couldn’t pull me out of my state and my debate over whether I should have left with him.

She extended her arms to her brother, showing him her magic-restricting sigils, her lips a thin tight line. “Remove it,” she demanded.

Helena sneered at Dominic’s hollow and dispassionate expression as he approached his sister.

“You’re not nearly as clever and sneaky as you believe yourself to be. Your slow reaction wasn’t for deliberation; it was to provide him the opportunity to kill Luna. The second one, you weren’t aiding me; it was a chance for him to finish where the first one had failed,” he said in a low, carefully controlled, rough voice. “They nearly killed Luna, and that was your intention.” He turned on his heels, striding past me, leaving me in her crosshairs. Her features wilted into a sullen look of disappointment before it snapped into anger, which she directed at me.

“Don’t you dare be smug,” she snarled. She had definitely misread my expression. Not smug. Shock. I had given her the benefit of the doubt. I knew in the moment of fighting and chaos, it was hard to prioritize and errors in judgment were inevitable. But they hadn’t been errors—they were opportunities for my assassination.

Her movements were like the strike of a serpent, quick and deadly as she devoured the space between us. Refusing to cower, I squared my shoulders and met her blazing, spiteful eyes.

“Don’t be too confident in Dominic’s protection. He only seeks to capture and destroy the only person whose magic rivals ours. This is not an act of altruism. It’s ego-driven and nothing more. When he finds you have no value to him and aren’t a means to a satisfying end, he’ll go nuclear.” Her nails swiped across my neck. I knew she wished she had her claws. “Then there will be no more Luna.”

Stepping away, I said, “You mean, magic that rivals his. You no longer have magic.” Turning from her, I kept looking forward, feeling her hard stare boring into me. I didn’t care about her or her hate-laced glares. If she attacked me, I was going to fight dirty. I wasn’t above using the tried-and-true windmill tactic. I was bound to land at least one good blow.

Dominic hadn’t waited for me, which was probably best. I needed some time alone to process everything. Making my way to the room where I’d stayed before, it surprised me to find Dominic seated in the chair, legs spread, deep in thought. His eyes slowly moved to mine. The raw depths held a level of unrestrained violence and calculating intensity that supported Helena’s comments.

He rose from his chair like a numinous wave. Not only had an attempt on my life been made, but one on his as well.

I pointed to my overnight bag, which I hadn’t considered when we were leaving the store. It had the Trapsen and the knife in it. Placed in my locker, I didn’t fear it would be taken. If found, it would probably be by someone who had no idea what it was. But I felt better knowing that a pathway to the Underworld was no longer in my locker—secured only by a padlock. And since Dominic had it, not one vulnerable to supernatural lock picking.

“My bag,” I said, hoping to start some dialogue because him motionlessly watching me was off-putting.

He nodded, not offering anything more of an explanation.

“What’s going to happen to Books and Brew? There’s no way magic can fix that.”

I’d seen the height of it, but illusions could only go so far. Could magic replicate the scorched books, renew the destroyed display shelves and bookcases? Or the blood, vampire dust, and fog of powerful magic I was convinced lingered in the room?

Dominic had settled into silence as he stood in front of me. It ticked on so long that I didn’t think he’d answer.

“This isn’t the first time we have had to handle something like this. It will look like a random act of property destruction. There will be recompense for loss of income. The store will be back to normal in three or four days.”

“How much of this efficiency will be a result of mind manipulation and compulsion? Making people perform for the magical puppet masters.”

He blinked once, his fiery amber eyes an abyss that was hard to pull from. “Do you have other options? If so, do tell.”

The fact that I didn’t frustrated me even more.

“You wear your thoughts on your face,” he told me.

“Good, then you know how exasperating and overwhelming all of this is.”

He closed the distance between us, putting me face to face with him. The continued silence, taut as a stretched rubber band, remained between us. When it snapped, would I be verbally sparring with the Prince of the Underworld?

The light touch across my cheek was a contrast to the intense, painful-looking scowl that did nothing to diminish his appealing features. It enhanced it—a cruel beauty.

“Does it hurt?” he asked. “The bruise,” he added, answering my confused look. I shook my head; it had just merged with all my other aches and bruises. With the adrenaline gone, I felt them even more.

“Why didn’t you leave with him?”

“As if that was a choice. Remember, I only have the illusion of choice.”

His finger moved from my cheek and was resting against my hand. Warmth slithered around me, his intoxicating smell enveloped me, and I let myself be submerged in the depth of his eyes. Searching for answers that he wouldn’t willingly offer. He was a mass of contradictions. Raw power and violence but capable of gentleness. A fuse just waiting to be ignited but stalwart tolerance with Helena, and even with me.

“I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“It wouldn’t have stopped the plans I have, but if you needed to be with him, I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

“I don’t think I will ever need to be with him.”

He let the surprise show on his face.

“It’s time for him to be out of my life. Today was a lot for me, and it would have been nice to have a little normal. But something was off with him.”

Dominic moved back to the chair, canted his head, and waited for me to continue.

“I’m not sure what it was.” I explained about him being compelled by the vampire and my suspicion that it had been broken by the vampire’s death, and about Jackson’s return to the store.

“You are correct. Just as a spell is broken when the caster dies, the same happens with a compulsion from a vampire.”

“He just seemed odd, and I don’t know why he’d return to the store.”

“Someone made him do it. The Dark Caster was there.”

“The wall,” I concluded. “It was the Dark Caster who erected it, which was why you couldn’t break it.”

He confirmed. “Your boyfriend—”

“Ex.”

“Your ex, could he be the Dark Caster?”

“If he had magic, there’s no way he would have kept it a secret. He would have been found immediately. His ego couldn’t handle godlike powers.”

Dominic gave me a faint smile. His swift movements were as off-putting as Helena’s. A frowned beveled the corners of his lips as he looked out at the garden.

“Tell me about your boy—ex-boyfriend, Jackson.”

Since I’d never given him Jackson’s name, I knew he had all the information he needed. The general information.

“Why?”

He turned to look at me, his eyes lazily traveling the length of my body, lingering over my lips before they met my eyes. “Because I asked.”

“Technically you didn’t ask, you sort of ordered me.”

“Consider it a question.”

“Then phrase it as one. Give me the option to decline.”

He chuckled and returned to admiring the view. “It is rare that I ask and even rarer for me to be declined.”

“I’m overjoyed to be giving you such a rare experience.”

Abandoning whatever held his attention outside, he flashed a roguish smile, making me wished I’d phrased things differently. “Rare experience,” he said. “Intriguing.” He approached me in a slow, easy stride. I focused on the light splatters of other people’s blood on his shirt and how comfortable and oblivious he was with it.

“Will you tell me about your ex?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for. I can assure you that there’s nothing magical about him. And if there were, he’d be leading the Awakeners and you wouldn’t be able to keep him from letting people know he’s a special little being.”

The love goggles were nowhere to be found. I’d loved Jackson’s confidence, but with clear vision, I could admit it had descended into self-aggrandizement. “Why are you curious about him?”

“Knowing him, I get to know you better.”

That caught me by surprise.

“You want to know me better. Why?” I sputtered. I had no chill in me.

“Helena was right. I find you intriguing. And the reason the Dark Caster chose you even more perplexing.”

Join the club.

“What drew you to a man whom you clearly don’t seem to like? The ending of your relationship is new, your dislike of him, but there are hints of residual feelings. He’s pursuing you, but you lack interest and don’t show any signs of rekindling the relationship. That speaks to a betrayal, and he’s seeking forgiveness.”

“He’s not seeking forgiveness. It’s acquiescence that he wants.”

His eyes narrowed on me. “You’re too nice to be aggressively rude enough to force him away,” he surmised.

“I’m plenty rude, he just has a high tolerance for it.”

Dominic continued to scrutinize me. He ruminated over my response to the point I felt uncomfortable under his intense gaze.

“Did Rei try to persuade you to go with her?”

Keeping the conversation between us seemed moot now that she was dead. I eyed Dominic’s bloodstained shirt again.

“Yes. The irony of her wanting to protect me from you—a lowly human she wanted to subjugate once the supernaturals were revealed.”

“You seem to want humans to know of our existence.”

He waited patiently as I considered his statement, still acutely aware of his light touch on my hand. His magic seemed subdued enough to ignore.

“No, I don’t,” I finally said. “I just don’t want us to be victims of your whims. Your anonymity makes us easy targets.”

“Do you think knowing would give you an advantage?”

It was a rhetorical question, but I still felt the need to answer it.

“Not an advantage, but it would arm us adequately.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, if you wake up a little foggy headed, it might be a vampire, so you won’t think it’s you. Laws can be put in place to better regulate the supernaturals’ use of magic.”

“You think human laws will be obeyed by people far more powerful than them? A vampire could compel your politicians. Spells could manipulate outcomes. Shifter and vampire strength could dominate any human. But humans will attempt to regulate how we deal with things, muddling our system.”

Frustrated by his interrogation pointing out the holes in my solution, I moved back from him, shoving my hand through my hair.

“Your system doesn’t work either,” I snapped. “Kane tried to compel me to injure myself and he’s part of the Conventicle. He blatantly ignored—”

“Kane was handled,” he reminded me.

“I know, but he still went against the wishes of the Conventicle. And what about the people who killed Rei and company?”

As he pointed out the holes in my suggestion, he needed to see the flaws in theirs, as well.

“That, I’m not sure. They wanted you dead.”

“You, too.”

“Many people want me dead. I’m not sure if my death was a bonus or an objective. You were definitely a target. I have no idea what their part is in this. It needs to be investigated.”

Did he just flex about people wanting him dead? Hey, Prince, that’s not a good thing!

“Why didn’t you go with Rei?” Satisfaction lifted one side of his lips. “Despite your apprehension, you’ve chosen a side.”

I shook my head. “No,” I admitted. “I’m an unwilling participant. Our goals align. You want the prisoners back and to find the Dark Caster. I want the markings removed and out of this world. That’s the crux of the matter.”

“Ah, so you haven’t determined I’m the good guy.”

My mouth dropped open and I snapped it shut. Perhaps it was the fatigue and the assassination attempt, or the fact that I was firmly in “I don’t give a fuck territory,” but I said, “I definitely don’t think you’re the good guys. I’m not sure you’re even the somewhat okay guys. It’s debatable whether you’re even the barely humane guys. You take lives effortlessly.”

His face had been pitiless, totally lacking any mercy or remorse.

“They were trying to kill me and you. I defended us. What should I have done—ask them not to do it?” His mocking annoyed me. “Or do you have a death wish, Luna?” he tacked on, derision heavy in his voice.

He was right. But it still felt wrong. Like there should have been an alternative.

“People are killed all the time in your world. Does it bother you?”

I nodded. “But the difference is, I’m not there or hanging out with the murderers.”

He nodded slowly as he regarded me. I wondered if he could mute the searing intensity of his gaze.

“The prisoners aren’t responsible for their escape,” he said, seeming to be in need of a subject change. “Our speculations were wrong about them being involved. If they were, you wouldn’t be with me. If they knew you were the only person keeping them out of the Perils, they would have found a way to you. They’re lying low, because they need to figure out things just like I do,” he speculated.

This wasn’t the time to point out there wasn’t really a “we” in this when it came to finding out the truth about the prisoners’ involvement. Whereas he seemed to desperately need the why of the situation, I was firmly in camp how. How do I untangle myself from this situation?

His finger glided over the light shadow of a beard as he was drawn into further speculation. My interest remained piqued by Rei’s apparent hope that he encountered Roman. More specifically, Roman’s claws.

“What effect do Roman’s claws have on you?”

He diverted his eyes from me, moving his attention to the wall behind me as he deliberated.

“His claws are poisonous,” he eventually said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Even to us. Weakens us and mutes our magic.”

“For how long?”

“Until it’s out of our system. The last time, it was about thirty-six hours. I was unable to return home, use my magic, or fight at my normal level,” he admitted. There was a reluctance to his confession and a hitch in his voice. Was he embarrassed that he’d been clawed, or that he had vulnerabilities? It humanized him and dampened his intensity. I closed the distance between us.

My voice was low and entreating as I continued the questioning, learning more about his world. If I was forced to live in it, I wanted to know everything about it. Whatever my expression revealed to him, it caused him to relax.

“Dark Casters’ magic can affect us, even with my immunity to witches’ magic.” He gave me a knowing smirk. “But that’s information you already know.”

Well, I upheld my promise. I hadn’t revealed that I knew the information. I wondered if Nailah had confessed. Based on the self-satisfied look on his face, he was speculating and I had confirmed it.

“Go on,” I urged.

“Their spells I can break, but their magic can be used against me.”

“Some witch magic as well.”

He nodded. “Atmospheric and some elemental. If it rains, it rains on me as well. Snow, I get chilled. And if there’s a cyclone, I can be swept into it like anyone else.”

His eyes narrowed on me, searching my face. “What are you thinking, Luna?” He might not have added the “Little” to it verbally, but the taunting gleam in his eyes had.

I had a speech about how they arrived at the average and pointing out that for five-six to be the average, there had to be people significantly shorter and that there were scores of people shorter than I was. Emoni, at close to five-eleven, would just look at me with a combination of amusement and a trace of mockery, urging me on. “That’s right,” “You tell them,” “I’m with her and the Lollipop Guild.” On the opposite end of the height spectrum, Emoni didn’t seem bothered when people commented on her height.

“I thought you said I wore my thoughts on my face. You tell me.”

“I’d like to hear it from you.”

“These reveals make you seem—approachable. Real,” I admitted.

“Real?”

“Normal. Like other people.” These were all wrong descriptions. So. Very. Wrong. But telling him that he seemed less of a larger-than-life figure, insurmountable presence, or ethereal force, although true, seemed hyperbolic.

“It shows the many dimensions you have. Like everyone else.”

Self-assurance bloomed over his features, in the fire that banked in his eyes, his supple lips, and carved features. “But I’m not like everyone else.”

That was apparent.

“Can bullets and blades hurt you?”

“They hurt,” he offered in a level voice.

They hurt. Well, Prince, they hurt everyone, but will you die?“That’s nothing notable. I think they hurt everyone.”

“I’m very difficult to kill.” He leaned toward me, a hint of a warning.

It wasn’t even a fully formed thought—just a fleeting moment of me knowing I had other ways to protect myself against him and Helena. One freaking passing thought. A half thought. Not even a complete thought.

“Tomorrow, we’ll get you magic and you’ll do the spells and this should be over for you.”

“But not for you?”

He shook his head. “There are other players involved and I need to find out who they are. What their endgame is. Those people who came after us—after you—weren’t the Conventicle guards and they aren’t allies of the Awakeners. If I figure out their objective, then I’ll know how to deal with them.”

“Perhaps they’re just the ruthless arm of the Awakeners,” I tossed out but quickly added, “but that wouldn’t explain them killing Rei and the others. If they were allies, they wouldn’t have tried to kill me. If anything, they’re more aligned with the Conventicle.”

He nodded, then frowned. “Unless there’s about to be an attempt at a coup. Perhaps they don’t like the agreement the Conventicle has with me. That may be why killing me was a bonus.” Looking down at the blood splatters on his shirt, he added, “I should shower and change.”

Had he only just noticed that?

I had to drag my eyes away from the exposed warm, olive-colored skin, the sculpted stomach muscles, and the light trail of hair leading into his pants when he tugged his shirt from his pants, examining the crimson stains on the bottom of the shirt.

“Do you need anything, Luna?” he asked, dropping his shirt.

“What?” I wasn’t leering. I know I wasn’t. It was just a casual perusal. Of the Prince of the Underworld, Luna, I scolded. The Underworld.

That should have been sobering. I blamed my gawking on everything that had happened today. My body still hummed from the adrenaline rush. The highs and lows. The attempts on my life. That was all. I’d be ogling any moderately attractive man. That was my story and I was sticking to it.

“Food, drink, a platter of chocolate?”

I nodded. I hadn’t eaten since lunch. “Food—definitely. Vodka in a Big Gulp cup, and I’d take a small tower of the chocolate you had earlier.” I planned to take that home with me. It was expensive, decadent, and the type of chocolate I couldn’t afford to treat myself to.

“Very well. I’ll see what I can do about the Big Gulp of vodka. We usually only have wine.”

I shrugged; my taste in alcohol wasn’t very discerning. I wanted something to take the edge off and to make sure it didn’t involve being naked with the prince.

“Very well.”

He left, but there was a smugness to him. His teeth gripped his lips.

“Meet me in the kitchen in an hour.”