A Touch of Brimstone by McKenzie Hunter
20
Dominic watched me pace back and forth in the ridiculously sterile apartment that felt like a luxurious hospital. It lacked the warmth of a home. The gray wood floors, lifeless neutral walls, and light streaming in from the window all seemed so much harsher now. I knew the room hadn’t changed; I had. The world looked irreparably different.
“It had to be done,” he assured me for the third time, but it was more than just Emoni that bothered me; it was speculation about Peter. The Dark Caster had been under our noses the entire time. Watching me, commenting about the ring that covered my markings, knowing damn well why it looked different. He had chosen me, out of all the people he had encountered, and I wanted to know why.
Dominic finally blocked my pacing, looking down at me. “What is this helping?”
“Thinking. It’s helping me think.” It wasn’t. Moving was just giving me a distraction.
“In less than an hour, we’ll meet with Emmanuel, get the magic you need, and then this will be over for you, Luna.”
“Will it?” I challenged, putting all my frustration and anger into it. “Assassins came after me. Once the prisoners are recaptured, I’ll no longer be at risk of assassination, but what's to stop you all from using magic against me—against us? From where I stand, the enforcement of the law against using magic against humans seems really lax. And the level of magic allowed to protect you all from being discovered is awfully broad. How do we stop being compelled by vampires?”
“Don’t look them in the eyes.”
Well, thanks. That was the same information Anand had given me, which simply infuriated me.
“If we don’t know they exist, we can’t even take that simple measure.”
The Awakeners had a valid argument: Supernaturals needed to be revealed. Give humans a fighting chance to protect ourselves. But they wanted to be elevated to some royal status. Not live as equals but our betters. The Conventicle and their acolytes wanted to cling to the shadows, but from what I could see, they weren’t sufficiently enforcing supernaturals’ limits of magic on humans.
“And the attack yesterday. Who are they? What’s their ideology? What are their goals? How can you enforce your rules on them when they don’t seem to have any allegiance to anyone?”
“I’m still looking into leads. I think it’s an uprising—a coup in the making.”
Once I was dead, the people attempting the coup could persuade those who wanted to maintain the supernaturals’ anonymity to switch their support to them. After all, that was the group that got things done. Would they be better or worse than the Conventicle? The assailants from the attack wanted me dead, so even if they were better at controlling the supernaturals than the Conventicle, I still couldn’t root for them. At least the Conventicle wasn’t actively trying to kill me.
“Luna, you’re out of this after today. I will work on behalf of humans’ best interest.”
I wanted to believe him. Even more when his warm hands rested on my hips, amber eyes entreating me to do so.
I couldn’t. He worked on behalf of his own interest. I needed to work on behalf of mine. It would be great if we had a common goal, but I didn’t see that happening.
Not every bar has the welcoming vibes created by music loud enough to be heard from outside but not be overwhelming and an exterior that welcomes you in to have a drink and good times. Two harsh lights that wouldn’t be out of place in an interrogation room were at each end of the single-story dingy blue stucco building. Dirt and discoloration from age obscured the signage. The inside looked dim, and if it weren’t for the number of motorcycles parked outside, I would have thought the building was vacant.
“So, this is where Emmanuel hangs out?”
Dominic nodded, apparently not sharing my concern. It wasn’t just the grim building; it was also that the bar wasn’t on the main street, it was thirty miles from the city, and the only other business establishments were several miles away. They could be as loud as they wanted here without disturbing anyone. Which meant no one could hear screams for help.
“He doesn’t have a home where we could have met?”
“Of course. He wanted to meet here.”
“That didn’t strike you as odd?”
“Doesn’t matter either way to me.”
He got out of the car and when I stayed put, still eyeing the place, he came to my side and opened the door.
Ignoring his extended hand, I hopped out of the car. I got this. Just a powerful witch I’m borrowing magic from, at a bar way off the beaten path, where screams won’t be heard. Easy-peasy.
I had to stop reading mysteries and crime novels.
The inside was just as poorly lit as I expected, and all eyes turned to us. Well, Dominic, dressed in a crimson shirt, granite-colored pants, and leather shoes, with the messy coiffed hair and rugged low beard of a man who belonged in a posher bar than this. Even with his sleeves rolled to the middle of his forearms, showing the arcane symbols and intricate designs that were understated compared to the tats of the bar patrons. Most wore short sleeves or tanks, showing off an impressive and beautiful tapestry of colors. Others were dark with portraits of predatory animals: wolves, panthers, and snakes.
All eyes remained on us, the interlopers. Dominic traipsed through the bar with airy confidence, people parting for him instead of him having to weave around them. Pulling my shoulders back, I stood taller, trying to put on the same airs. It’s easier to do when you have magic, claws, and preternaturally fast and precise movement.
Dominic slowed until I was next to him, a hand well placed on the small of my back, momentarily redirecting my attention from the crowd to the tinge of warmth that spread over my back at his touch.
He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “It’s fine. This is just a power move by Emmanuel, to unsettle us.”
“He succeeded. I’m unsettled.” I would’ve preferred to meet at a restaurant. Maybe an ice cream shop. Nothing menacing in a Coldstone Creamery.
Staying close to Dominic, I tried to present the same level of confidence he radiated. I thought I was pulling off the “don’t screw with me vibe” in its entirety. I will knock you out with my phone. Squash your man grapes and elbow you in the tatas.
I was grabbed by the waist and slammed back against a firm chest covered with a softer layer of fat. A rough beard rubbed against my cheek.
“You don’t seem like the type that goes for the pretty boys,” the alcohol-laced breath whispered in my ear. Before I could raise my foot to smash it into his and ball my fist to punch him, the hold he had on me relaxed.
Dominic was no longer in front of me. He was behind the man, hands clamped around his throat and knife held at his jugular. The stout man huffed out a breath through clenched teeth. His eyes were ablaze with anger, but as the knife bit into his skin, flight and fury shadowed his face.
“I’m the nice one. You touch her again, I’m going to let her at you.” Dominic continued to hold the man, looking far too confidently at people who were now armed with blades and guns. One was scarily close to Dominic’s temple. He eased his hostage around, using him as a shield. What lingered in his eyes was calculating, cold, and dangerously unsettling.
“Let him go and there won’t be any trouble,” said one woman with a gun trained on Dominic. The implication was there wouldn’t be any trouble for Dominic and me, but her voice didn’t hold the confidence that she believed it.
His lips kinked into a mirthless smile, his voice rough and hinting at unspeakable levels of violence. “We’re just here to visit Emmanuel. You don’t give me any trouble, I won’t give you any.”
“Release him,” the woman demanded.
The grin firmly in place, Dominic said, “Of course. Your wish is my command.” No semblance of humility was in his words.
You convinced me you’re a jackass.He was quickly next to me, urging me forward, not even giving the crowd of people the courtesy of looking back. Taking his lead was hard. Unable to hear footsteps over the music or see movement because of the low lights, I was alert. I’d had enough violence to last a lifetime.
“I’m the mean one,” I teased in a whisper once we were down a hall and the door closed us off from the bar.
“I have a feeling you can be quite brutal when necessary.”
I was so brutal that a punch from me only evoked laughter from him. “Don’t you forget it,” I told him.
“Don’t think I could.”
After three abrupt knocks on the first door in the hallway, a gravely baritone invited us in. The office was sparse. A half-filled bookshelf in the corner, and a rug presumably intended to add a decorative flourish but that seemed to deliberately collect dirt. At one time it was probably a nice rug, cream, rust, and hunter green complementing the pine-green walls. One wall was covered with pictures of restored motorcycles. With the man seated at the desk proudly posed in front of them. Or maybe he was just some weirdo taking pictures in front of other people’s bikes.
“Emmanuel.”
“Dominic,” the man responded just as brusquely. He was of an indeterminate age, shorn dull mousy-colored hair highlighted with gray or silver. His square jaw gave his face a blockish look.
The man kept his arms crossed over his chest, exposing large arms. Not defined but they could probably deliver a lot of power. Stern, watchful eyes paid close attention to me and Dominic.
“I see you made it without incident,” he said, a hint of humor in his voice.
Dominic shrugged. The tension in the room was pulled so taut, it was only a matter of time before it broke. Had I been in any room or met anyone who liked Dominic?
“So this is Luna,” Emmanuel mused, taking his legs off the desk and standing. Just a few inches shorter than Dominic and with a broader build, but Dominic’s presence still overpowered the room.
Emmanuel moved closer, regarding me carefully, his eyes traveling over every inch of me. My ring covered the markings, but his knowing look felt as though he could see beyond it.
He reached out to touch me. Dominic grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I never told you her name.”
“Ah.” A flush fell over his parchment skin. “She’s sort of a celebrity,” he admitted.
Dominic narrowed his eyes. “What do you know about her?”
Emmanuel returned to his chair, plopping down in it and returning his feet to the desk. He linked his fingers behind his head. “You seem so hostile these days. Perhaps you need a partner.” I wasn’t sure if he was offering his services or subtly telling him he wanted to deal with someone else.
“You know damn well that I have a partner.”
Emmanuel’s brow hitched. “Do you? You’re not referring to Helena, are you? She’s not a partner so much as a rabid creature that should be put down.”
Helena was no longer involved, but I guessed that wasn’t widely known. Probably the prospect of having to deal with her worked to Dominic’s advantage.
“That’s your one and only time. Helena has nothing to do with this. As I said on the phone, I need to call in my favor. I need to borrow magic.”
“For her?”
Dominic’s head barely moved into the nod.
Emmanuel looked at me thoughtfully, trying to suss out something. “I heard she’s responsible for releasing the prisoners from the Perils.” Although his question was directed to Dominic, he kept his eyes on me. I remained expressionless, trying not to give anything away.
“I loan her the magic and that will satisfy my debt,” Emanuel confirmed.
Dominic gave a slight nod.
“Well, I think I need to clear out the place. Don’t want anyone interrupting us.” Emmanuel eased past me. I didn’t need to follow his movement to feel his gaze on me.
Looking around the office, Dominic’s face remained indecipherable. Emanuel’s voice was faint on the other side of the doors.
“Will this hurt?” I asked.
“It shouldn’t.”
“That wasn’t a definitive answer.”
“Because I don’t have one. I’ve never borrowed magic before. I’ve seen magic taken from someone and they didn’t look to be in pain as it was done, just pissed off.”
“Like your sister?”
“I didn’t take her magic, it’s just restricted,” he corrected.
It still pissed her off.
Time ticked by. Dominic moved to the desk and grabbed a pen and piece of paper, scribbled something on it, and handed it to me along with the key fob.
“If I tell you to leave, go to this address. The emergency exit is out this door and to the right, okay?”
I nodded, taking the items. “Dominic, what’s wrong?”
His eyes narrowed at the door. “Nothing yet.”
I shoved the paper in my pocket, palmed the key fob, and continued to wait for Emmanuel. Ten more minutes passed then Dominic scrutinized the door and mouthed for me to go.
I ran.
Halfway to the exit I heard pounding feet and saw seven people flooding through the door, a silver-blue sphere of magic being released into Dominic’s chest. The woman in front stood in frozen disbelief when there was no effect. Swallowing a gasp, I hesitated for one moment before darting for the car. Hauling myself in, I started the car without adjusting the mirror and reversed, guilt and panic washing over me at the sight of newly arrived cars and more people spilling into the bar.
Once on the main road, I could think more clearly and my internal debate persisted. Out of the rearview mirror, I glimpsed another car turning into the bar’s parking lot. I couldn’t leave him.
Chuffing and huffing drew my attention, and I was startled to find Zareb had made himself visible.
I cursed under my breath, one hand going to my chest. “Are you trying to kill me? How did you get in here?” Great, I’m talking to hellhounds now. But if he could travel from the Underworld, answering me wasn’t terribly unrealistic.
Zareb’s response was a low rumble in his chest.
“I can’t leave him,” I repeated aloud.
The hound nudged my shoulder as if to tell me to keep going, but I swung the SUV around and headed back to the bar, parking it facing out so I could make a quick exit if necessary. In the trunk I found an emergency kit. I rummaged through it until I found three flares, and I snatched up the wrench. The only thing I could think to do was throw in the flares, hope they hit something flammable. If nothing else, it would be a distraction. If I had the Trapsen, I could notify Anand. Worst case, Helena.
A bloodied body crashed through the door and landed, his right arm twisted in a manner that wasn’t anatomically possible without a break. A clawed creature stood over him. It had Dominic’s features, clothing, and body, but there wasn’t anything human about him. This wasn’t the refined, coolly subdued man that I reluctantly found sexy as hell. This was an animal. A beast of the Underworld. His eyes blazed like fire, his magic thrashed the air, and blood—I was sure other people’s blood—coated his clothing.
Lips furled, he hissed at me. “Go!”
My feet were planted, eyes wide, horror-stricken, when he used his claws to slash the man’s throat. The spurt of the man’s blood jolted me into action. I ran to the SUV. A hand grabbed my hair and tossed me to the ground. My hand held onto the wrench but the flares dropped. I made a half turn and smashed the wrench into the person’s wrist. They released me with a shriek of pain. I rolled to my feet and swiftly turned and delivered another hit to the head.
Magic cracked into my back, sending me sprawling. Pain, awful pain, seared through me. Relief flooded me when I wiggled my feet and they moved. I scrambled back up and saw the magic thrower on the ground, fending off something I couldn’t see. Zareb.
I ran for the car, opening the back passenger door.
“Come on, Zareb!” I screamed. He waited until the attacker had stopped moving. The man was still breathing, but he hadn’t come out on the winning end. His shirt was shredded, blood trailed from bite marks, and he was curled in a protective ball, his hands covering his face.
The hound brushed past my leg as he jumped into the car, making his body visible once in. I rushed to the driver’s side and we fled.
There was no way I was going to where Dominic had instructed me. After I was far enough away that I couldn’t see the bar, I pulled over. Taking out my phone, I searched for hotels. I’d stay at one for a few days and figure the rest out later.
Zareb’s warm breath, grunts, and chuffing made ignoring him hard.
“Go home,” I told him. Hard, primal eyes leveled on me before his nose nudged my shoulder.
“No,” I told him. “Go home,” I repeated.
He pulled back his teeth, exposing razor-sharp teeth. My eyes slid to the wrench on the driver’s side. I didn’t want to hurt a dog, no matter how menacing he looked. And he really looked menacing. His powerful build, the amber glow of his eyes, and the ferocity of his stare made him look absolutely like a hound of the Underworld.
“Are you going to eat me if I don’t do what Dominic said?” I asked in a half-hearted tease.
He showed teeth again and nudged me harder. Apparently, I hadn’t moved fast enough, because his mouth covered my arm, his teeth exerting enough pressure to demonstrate how quickly and easily he could get to me and the damage he could cause.
“Point made.”
Taking out the paper, I put the address in the navigation and drove. Zareb settled back. In the rearview mirror, I saw the attentive eyes on me.
“I’m going,” I ground out. I wasn’t going to get magic from Emmanuel, and I had no idea what the next step was.