Page 33 of A Touch of Brimstone

His eyes were heavy and inquiring, making it difficult to return to the work in front of me. Redirect. Discover what is necessary to survive in this world. I got this. I repeated it over and over with no success because I was drowning and there wasn’t anyone to throw me a lifeline.

“What do you think is happening?” Dominic’s grave voice splintered the silence.

I didn’t have an answer.

“Supernaturals have been living among humans for as long as humans have existed. But they do so with the agreement to stay hidden. It works to the benefit of all involved, but know that not everyone is happy about it. There are supernaturals who want to awaken the world to all that exists. They want to be known, to eventually have power. There aren’t many and they are so inconsequential, they were regarded as just a fringe group. An insipid cult.”

“The markings on the book,” I guessed.

He nodded. “That’s their mark. Fifty years ago, some supernaturals wanted the Awakening. Everything that is hidden to be brought into plain sight. The Conventicle is the ruling body of the supernaturals and represents the supernatural community. Staying hidden was decided upon. What is best? The Conventicle and I work together to make it so. You met the representatives, but the Conventicle comprises one hundred and twenty members. Awakeners are dissenters, believers of the Awakening. In the past they were a simple nuisance and were managed rather easily. Once in a while, there’s a revival when new, ambitious members join.”

Annoyance showed on his face. “The Conventicle is efficient and ruthless about maintaining their anonymity and dealing with the Awakeners. I assure you, manipulating Reginald’s and his coven’s memories was the most humane thing. It wasn’t what the Conventicle wanted for them… for you. They wanted a permanent solution for all involved.” He’d halted at the word ‘coven.” Accustomed to dealing with actual witches and covens, it had to seem blasphemous putting Reginald and his friends in the same category.

Swallowing, I got a handle on my agitation. Why were the options they chose permanent? Did death always have to be the answer?

“I suspect the Dark Caster is part of the Awakening movement or will eventually become part of it. There’s no doubt that the supernaturals you released will join as well. They were reckless for the sheer enjoyment of it, but it was also their unsubtle way of being discovered. If their existence becomes known, it will open up speculation that there are more out there. Although most supernaturals follow the way of the Conventicle, in any group there are those who are opportunistic or complicit. It’s the opportunists that concern me. They will latch on to whichever side they believe will be the victor. If the Awakeners are a viable movement, then this will be a problem. I’m not just trying to retrieve the prisoners and discover the Caster; I’m preventing a war.”

This wasn’t about altruism. If the supernaturals were discovered, he would be, too. There were benefits to anonymity.

“So, there’s an agreement between you and the Conventicle. That’s why you warned them about the prisoners, right?”

He didn’t respond. I looked up to find him scrutinizing me with suspicion.

There was honor among thieves, killers, or whatever the hell type of reprobates they were. It meant he honored agreements. Whatever oath bound him to the Conventicle, I needed that extended to my friends and family. Protect them the way he protected the Conventicle, despite them clearly loathing each other.

“We have a binding agreement.” Suspicion was heavy in his tone. “What is it you’re hinting at, Little Luna?” His full lips tightened into a rueful line. A stony expression and fierce intensity replaced his previously amiable demeanor. He relaxed back in the chair, his fingers clasped behind his head, causing his slim-cut hunter-green shirt to conform to the muscles of his chest and stomach. The folded sleeves revealed the taut muscles of his tattooed forearms. The muscles bulged and relaxed with the most minor movement.

“I want you to agree that my friends and family will be protected.”

“Only Reginald and his coven were involved, correct?”

I nodded, happy that I hadn’t disclosed everything to Emoni. He was looking past me at the new bookcases with a look of contemplation.

“He won’t agree,” Helena provided as she entered the room. She leaned down, wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. Pressing her face against his, she gave me a full view of her cleavage in her slinky low-cut maxi dress. As it had before, her attire made everyone, including Dominic, look underdressed. Her presence unsettled the room. A shift that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was as if her presence caused the room to recoil.

Even if she wished to, I doubted she could go unnoticed. I considered Anand’s beauty quiet, whereas hers was flamboyant, intrusive. From the smoldering dark liner that highlighted her intense amber eyes, the bone structure that was carved to striking precision, the supple lips that formed a resting pout, to her wardrobe, everything demanded attention and required appreciation. I wasn’t in the mood for either.

“Eventually you will become collateral damage,” she cooed. Her tongue made a ticking sound like a clock counting down.

I held her gaze, refusing to let her rattle me. She peddled in fear and threats, and I wouldn’t give her that. Her taunting smile widened as she stood, keeping an attentive hand on Dominic’s shoulder.

“Perhaps it will be Dominic or someone in the Conventicle. Fear breeds betrayal. I wonder which one will sacrifice their life to take yours?” She looked delighted at the prospect.

The casualness of her words and her aloofness ignited a terror in me. But instead of prompting me to retreat, it triggered me to fend it off.

“Just what my day needed, commentary from Underworld Barbie complete with tacky Seductress of the Night wardrobe.”

Dominic fought against a smile.

Her sharp gaze was fixed on me as she spoke to Dominic. “You find her entertaining. That surely can’t be the reason she’s still alive. Is it, brother?”

“Helena,” he warned. “You are not part of this.”

“But I will be affected. I have just as much say in this as you do.”

“Perhaps, but you can’t get involved. Nor will you. This will serve as your last reminder.”

“It is part of your doing that I can’t be involved,” she pushed out through clenched teeth.

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