Page 19 of A Touch of Brimstone

Our interests aligned. As long as he wanted me alive, the others wouldn’t touch me. For now, it was my best hope.

A slow smile moved over his lips. He handed me back the ring and I slipped it on my finger. “It seems like we are in this together, Lit—” He bit the word off. “Luna.”

Several moments of tense silence passed, then he extended his hand to me. “Would you like to see what you’ve done?”

Not really. Did I really need to see an empty cell? Definitely didn’t want to see one in the Underworld.

There were many reasons to say no—one being Mr. Personality in front of me—but I needed to know exactly what I was dealing with.

I was unsure whether, when I analyzed this in the future—if there was a future—this decision would make the list of the things that made this situation infinitely worse.

Despite the high likelihood, I nodded.

7

“You won’t be able to enter the Underworld without me,” Dominic explained after several minutes of my contemplative staring at his hand. My internal debate continued long after his explanation. It took a lot of pep talk and coaxing for me to fully give in to my decision and take his hand.

I was going to the Underworld.

His lips quirked into a half-smile. His warm fingers entwined with mine.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m glad you agreed. This way is far more preferable. I don’t believe you would have liked the alternative.”

“What was the alternative?”

I took the flicker of menace that shadowed his features and the trace scents of amber, gold, and burnt orange that arose as indications that the alternative was probably more barbaric. Something along the lines of me getting tossed over his shoulder and carried away. I frowned.

I tugged slightly to loosen his grip on my hand. It was hard to relax around him. He’d saved my life but had caged me in flames. I shuddered at the memory. What would have been my fate if I were a Dark Caster?

His mouth barely moved as a diaphanous shimmering wall appeared. There was a moment of hesitation before I allowed him to lead me into it and then we were plunged into complete darkness. Heat poured over me and needlelike prickles flitted over my body. It wasn’t painful but a discomfort I would be happy never to feel again.

When the darkness lifted, it was no longer midday; the moon offered a muted melon glow over the stone castle-like mansion. The palatial building couldn’t be fully taken in. Neatly manicured bushes surrounded the home and lush forestry lay on the outskirts. Instead of verdant green, the leaves were variations of dark grays and deep currant. The air was inundated with notes of pepper and sage. The light from the moon hit a large lake off to the right.

Intricately carved decorated columns surrounded the home, supporting the balcony above. Thick curtains covered the windows. This wasn’t at all what I expected from a supernatural prison.

At Dominic’s arrival, the doors swung open and six guards greeted him on each side. They were dressed in black button-downs and slacks, a small emblem on the chest. Daggers sheathed at their waists and swords sheathed at their backs, each stood at attention, relaxing to ease once Dominic had passed. Their furtive looks of discomfort and intrigue stayed on me, and I felt them continue as we headed along the marble floor through an entrance the size of my apartment.

Abstract art and sculptures on pedestals. The number of winged creatures on display was astonishing. Angels? Was this irony? One sculpture of a copper-winged person on its knees in what looked like supplication—its wings fanned together behind its back—seemed to be a statement piece. I slowed to give it a better look.

It wasn’t me being distracted by the sculpture or being several feet behind him that placed a wary frustration on Dominic’s face. “That is all,” he told the guards. “No need for such formality at my arrival. At ease. Always.”

He looked at me, I assumed to tell me to follow. Before we could continue down the long expansive entryway, one of the guards responded.

“But your father—”

“You’re my guards. You answer to me, not my father.” He made an attempt at a smile, but it seemed to be too much effort. “I will talk to him about it. For me, this is unnecessary.”

You don’t get a twelve-guard welcome if you’re just a glorified babysitter of misbehaving supernaturals. Dividing my attention between the infinite gray of the outdoors offered by the large picture windows, the guards at the door, the palatial home, and the spiraling dual staircases we’d passed, my attention finally returned full circle to Dominic. His brows rose.

“Have you forgotten the reason for your visit, Luna?”

With the mildest change of inflection, lilt, or modulation he managed to say so much with just the simple use of my name. I hated it. A sharp emphasis on the L made it a chastisement. I took a few larger steps to catch up with him. To match his long strides, I had to take double steps. He seemed to be all legs.

“In my world, guards usually don’t live in a mansion, and I’m sure they don’t get such a reception whenever they go home. I’m willing to bet at work they probably just get a simple wave, maybe an unenthusiastic nod before going through a metal detector,” I pointed out, leaving an opening for him. Which he didn’t take, simply responding with a shrug.

“You’re more than just the guardian of the Perils, aren’t you?”

---