Page 60 of A Touch of Brimstone

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.”

18

After a half-hour shower, I headed down and found Dominic seated, with an empty plate off to the side, a different notebook than our original in front of him, and sipping on wine. He gave me a once-over: the damp hair pulled into an untidy bun, loose-fitting Dorian Gray t-shirt, threadbare leggings, and fluffy ankle socks. I wasn’t going for sexy but wouldn’t have known that from the look Dominic gave me. He seemed most intrigued by my t-shirt, giving it a long, languid look.

In a black, soft-looking cotton t-shirt and age-worn jeans, he was the most casual I’d seen him, but he still possessed the refinement of someone wearing a bespoke suit. The edges of his exposed tattoos shimmered under the halo of the warm yellow lights.

“No Big Gulp,” he said, “but we had enough to make you a French martini.”

I took a small sip. It was really good.

It wasn’t until the smell of the steak, caramelized potatoes, and tomatoes skewered with mozzarella hit me that my stomach start growling uncontrollably. Since he hadn’t waited for me, I tore into the food.

I drank the water provided instead of the martini. Looking up from my plate, feeling the heat of embarrassment inch its way up my neck and cheeks, I said, “I was hungrier than I thought.” I wiped my mouth with the napkin and took a sip of martini. “Thank you.”

He smirked and pushed the wrapped chocolate toward me. It wasn’t a tower, but a small pyramid.

Unwrapping one, I popped it in my mouth, convinced that the wrapping had actual gold in it so I wouldn’t crumple it.

He slid the notebook over to me and I looked at it. The spells were sectioned into easily readable chunks. Dominic was committed to us striking true.

“I have divided them into the ones most likely to succeed based on the response of your markings and in the dungeon. Most are educated guesses, but I believe what was hindering the success of the spells was my magic.”

Perusing the spells, it was really difficult not to be overtaken by the hope forming. Once the spells were reversed, I could work on damage control because I wasn’t convinced there wouldn’t be some fallout from what happened at Books and Brew.

“Is it just you and your family here?” I asked after I moved the notebook aside.

Dominic seemed comfortable with silence. I saw it as a missed opportunity to learn more about this world, and him.

“Anand, the guards, and staff. The guards are resident here, as are some of the staff. We have humans—indentured.”

“Enslaved,” I corrected.

He shook his head. “Contractually obligated. Presented with the option to work here for money, or a favor. I’m sure the number of people willing to give up a short period of freedom for money, opportunities in your world, a new and better life, doesn’t surprise you.”

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