Page 38 of A Touch of Brimstone

“No, that’s enough for today.”

I heard her but kept my eyes trained on Dominic.

“Luna, look at me,” Nailah requested.

I dragged my eyes from Dominic’s. The pain was gone. I was still feeling relaxed, although a smidge of tension resurfaced as the room’s nudge of defiance returned.

“Good. I think you should take a break.” Her eyes flicked to Dominic and narrowed.

“She agreed to continue,” Dominic argued.

“Take a break.” The assertion in her tone made Mr. Prince-y sit up taller. Definitely not used to being commanded. He wore that aversion profoundly on his face and the defiance of it in his posture.

“It will be best for you both,” she continued, warmth eking into her tone.

“She’s fine.” He pulled the tablet to him and marked off another spell.

“Dominic.” She snapped at him with the sharpness of a mother chastising a child. It left me trying to figure out the dynamics between them. Nailah looked younger, late twenties, early thirties. Dominic appeared to be mid- to late thirties. Despite her initial sharpness, there was a hint of deference in the way she looked at him, a request for understanding and compliance in her expression. The disapproval lingered in her frown.

There were so many unspoken words and displays of emotions that I went from thinking there was a mentorship-type relationship, emissary, or maybe she was his moral compass and he was rejecting it. There was something else that passed between them. Compassion? Caring? Were they in a relationship? So many things passed between them, it became a rollercoaster ride that I was ready to get off.

The adage leads us to believe there’s a thin line between love and hate. But there isn’t. They are both intense emotions brought by feelings. Indifference is a thorn in the side. The killer of all things. The snuffing out of the fire in any relationship. Indifference was nowhere to be found in their exchange. If the dagger-sharp looks they exchanged were an indicator, hate seemed to be flickering to ignite. Or at least contempt.

“Her acquiescence was coaxed,” Nailah pointed out. Coaxed by the man able to manipulate thoughts by looking at them. And moments ago, I was drowning in his eyes.

Faux relaxation and a feeling of peace. The room’s abatement from poking and prodding me out of the door was an implanted thought, a manipulation.

Seething, I stood. “We’re done for today and maybe… maybe forever because you’re a venomous snake.” I snatched my bag up and rushed toward the door. It smacked me back into the room. You go to hell, too, I thought, rummaging through my bag for whatever made the room prevent me from leaving. After finding a book, I tossed it, aiming for the table but secretly wishing I put too much power into the throw and that it would hit Dominic.

Aimless, I stood in the hallway without a strategy for the next step. My day off was meant to be in the Underworld, with the ambitious goal to unravel the spell and never return. With anger and Dominic’s deception raining over me, I just wanted to leave. Dominic wouldn’t take me and I didn’t want to ask.

Should I search for Anand? Desperation had me calling his name, my voice carrying through the massive hallways.

Minutes passed with no response from him. I didn’t really expect him to answer. I wasn’t sure he was even in the house. Was the Underworld his home? If so, if he was easily hidden in our small store, could he be found in this ridiculously huge place?

“Yes?” Anand’s mild voice spoke from behind me. Turning, I found him with one shoulder leaning against the wall, hands shoved in pockets. Disheveled hair, loose-fitting shirt, and jeans that hung low on his waist. He looked confused.

“Do you live here?” I asked.

He nodded once. A small confirmation, but the confusion remained.

“You heard me calling you?” If he had been close, I wanted to know where. Was one of the rooms on this floor his bedroom? I needed to know how to get to him.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” A flush rose over my cheeks.

“I was in my room,” he offered, putting me out of my misery.

“Is your room close?” I nudged my thumb toward the closed rooms I’d passed the other day.

“No, it’s in the west wing. It took me a while to get here when I heard you call me.” This place was huge enough to have wings and he heard me call him. He was on the other side of the house and: He. Heard. Me. Call. Him. Nope, not terrifying at all.

His curiosity had turned to irritation. “Luna, what do you want?”

“Take me home,” I blurted.

Pushing up from the wall, he appeared reluctant as he looked past me.

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