Page 35 of A Touch of Brimstone

I whipped around to face him. “Find a way to make it so,” I demanded. “Because I can’t to stay here.”

He sighed. “You aren’t at any risk of harm.”

“Really!” I stood and jabbed my finger at his clawed face. The pads of his fingers ran lightly over the gashes, closing them and removing the crimson lines of blood. When the healing was complete, there was no sign that his sister had mauled him. How many times had he healed injuries inflicted by her?

I sagged against the wall. No matter how many slow, measured breaths I took, I couldn’t get a handle on the panic. Nailah easing into the room, breaking some of the tension, was the closest thing I was going to get to calm. At the sight of me, her violet eyes turned a gentle earthy brown that complemented her appearance. Watching someone’s eyes change in a matter of seconds paled in comparison to the unsettling things I’d already encountered.

Acknowledging my presence with a genial smile, she immediately went to Dominic and whispered something to him. He blew out an exasperated breath and quickly left the room. Her presence was enough to redirect me to get a handle on the things I could control. Research. That was the one thing I definitely could do.

11

Find the spells, leave this world. That sentence played as a continuous loop in my head as I returned to the table and removed the books from my bag. Without Dominic to translate, I simply made notes for him and continued scrolling through the books to find the spells. My markings’ response to the spells hadn’t diminished, but it was still alarming.

“Helena’s bruised ego often requires a lot of management,” Nailah volunteered, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table near the door. Considering the heaviness of her voice, she didn’t agree with the indulgence.

“What about her temper, how is that managed?”

Nailah huffed a sigh. “That, too, requires a great deal of patience and delicacy. Her propensity for violent overreactions has caused a great number of problems. Helena’s last one nearly led to a war. Had the witches found a way to get to her here in the Underworld, it would have been a battle that I’m not sure Dominic would have been able to win. Despite Dominic’s and Helena’s considerable power, they’re no match for a coven of Strata Three witches. She’s made enemies of so many covens. They tend to only protect their own, but they would have formed an alliance to punish Helena. She causes unlikely people to unite.”

Her fingers idly made designs along the table as she spoke. It felt like she was venting and I remained quiet, hoping to glean more information. “That’s Helena. Her response to anyone who displeases her is to go for the jugular, literally.”

“Strata Three?”

“Those are the strongest. Able to create spells, perform strong magic: manipulate time, telekinesis, advanced spell casting, magic mimicry by stealing another practitioner’s magic, which is illegal. Necromancy—controlling the dead—and some minor shifting abilities.

“Strata Three witches aren’t limited to simple magic, which makes them dangerous and unpredictable. Strata Two witches’ magic is more limited: Elementals usually fall into this category, although they can do wards, basic spell casting, and illusions. Their talents lie in controlling elements. The same with techno-witches. Although their skills are highly sought after, they are still considered a Two. Except for Celeste, Mors have the limited magical ability of taking a life with a single invocation and touch, but they’re classified as Strata Three. They consider themselves beyond reproach or rule,” she added.

That may be why they were given a death sentence rather than imprisonment.

“Witches are watched carefully because they are so powerful and there’s always the risk of abuse,” Nailah went on. “Madeline is a Strata Three, as are most of her family. Their line is the strongest and most talented. Helena learned that firsthand, but despite the consequences, she still hasn’t learned restraint.”

I held my breath, hoping she’d continue. It yielded great information for me.

But maybe it wasn’t about getting this information off her chest. Perhaps it was driven by compassion. There was undeniable warmth and empathy in her eyes. I found comfort in her since that was the only place it could be had.

Leaning forward in anticipation, I realized how desperate I was for the peace that knowledge brought. She was providing me with information that would unravel some of the complexity of a world I didn’t belong in. Tools for survival that I desperately needed. And what seemed to be basic humanity, in a place where it was missing. For all I knew, Nailah could be as cold and vengeful as the others. She could be offering me a deception, but I was willing to accept it because I was thirsty for it.

Instead of continuing, she leaned forward, picked up one of the books, and started perusing it.

Dammit. No. I need more.

“Consequences?” I urged.

She frowned. I couldn’t determine if it was the return of our discussion about Helena or the consequences she suffered.

“Most supernaturals can be rather pedantic when it comes to their status as elite magical practitioners. Alpha shifters have an obnoxious sense of entitlement. Elder vampires feel worthy of an excessive amount of veneration—I guess for just existing for a long time.” She shrugged. “And Strata Three witches feel deserving of reverence. From other witches, they receive it. But since shifters are immune to their magic, the witches get very little reverence from them unless they need the witches for a task. Strata Ones and Twos can meet their basic needs for wards, protection spells, and illusions. Vampires are strong and fast. Before the witches could perform any acts of magic against them, the vampires could kill them. They all believe themselves to be greater than they actually are.” She punctuated her speech with a heavy sigh.

“Navigating the rules and tacit agreements requires delicacy, diplomacy, and, when necessary, assertive coercion.” Her voice had lost some of its frustration. She delivered the information in such a dispassionate manner it was as though she was telling a story she’d repeated so many times that she’d lost the desire to keep the listener interested.

Assertive coercion seemed like a pleasant way of saying intimidation or brutalizing into compliance. I kept that theory to myself.

Nailah inhaled a breath as if it offered some comfort. There was nothing comforting about the stifling air. But she exuded a tranquility that made things seem less overwhelming. Was that part of her magic? Lulling me into somnolence? Her warm, earthy eyes were in contrast to Dominic’s, which were sharp with intensity and boundless in depth.

“No one is without their weakness. Something Helena forgets often.” She shrugged and frowned. “When your father is Lord of the Underworld, it is easy to lose perspective. Helena was beyond loss of perspective. She believed she could do whatever she desired with impunity. History had given her that false notion.” The look that passed over Nailah’s face reminded me of the disapproval Dominic showed when discussing Helena’s indulgences.

It shouldn’t have been shocking to me, but it was. The signs were there: I was sitting in the spellbook room in the Underworld. On my first arrival in the Underworld, Dominic was greeted by guards and he displayed what I considered hauteur born from sheer arrogance, displaying the pride of a prince.

My life had irreparably changed. Not by a stretch could it be considered boring any longer. Not only had I punched both the Prince and Princess of the Underworld, I’d made a deal with the Prince.

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