Page 43 of A Touch of Brimstone

I snapped myself out of it and started to slowly inch away from them, afraid that a sudden movement would draw her ire. Her need for violence was wound so tight, it was just looking for a target.

“As you pointed out, I protect the queen. And far too often, a princess undeserving of such protections,” Dominic whispered.

The moment was forged in hostility. She glared back at me, her hatred intensified by the belief that I had dethroned her. I did not want her to believe that or to think she needed to wrench the position back by any means.

“I hate you!” Helena bellowed. I thought it was directed at me—after all, she probably blamed me for her magic being restricted and not her clawing her brother’s face. But a declaration with such impassioned vehemence came from years of emotional connection. It could never be directed at some random stranger—despite how she perceived my part in having her magic restricted. And that’s exactly who I was. Some random stranger, pulled into this complex world, who had caused cataclysmic problems.

“A pronouncement you make often when you are forced to deal with a miniscule consequence for your actions. You hate me. Okay. That dagger has dulled from overuse. Find another way to hurt me, you’ve exhausted that one.”

She whipped around, stomping past me while Dominic stood and began picking up the large pieces of glass. It seemed to provide a moment of catharsis.

“Luna, you may return to your seat. We have more to discuss.”

We did, but we weren’t going to do it then. I wanted—no, needed to be away from him.

“We can talk later. Perhaps you need some time to mend things with Helena.”

“The mere fact you suggested that shows you do not know my sister,” he offered with a wry twist of his lips. He was still gathering the broken glass as if there was something symbolic in the gesture—cleaning up a mess that Helena had created.

“Goodnight, Dominic,” I said.

He looked up momentarily and smiled at the sight of me grabbing handfuls of chocolates.

“We’ll talk later.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Before he could object, I moved swiftly toward the house, stopping at the fridge to get some water before going to my room. I locked the door and pushed one of the accent chairs in front of it. It was doubtful it would do anything to stop anyone in this house from entering, but it gave me a small sense of security. At least I’d hear it move.

Pacing the floor, I thought that despite Helena’s histrionics, there was truth to the things she said about Dominic. Him being calculating wasn’t a surprise, but I wondered at what point he would perceive my life as a liability rather than an asset. Unformed plans and tactics ran rapidly through my mind, but none had a high rate of success because magic, the supernaturals’ world, and their rules were unreliable variables.

A ragged breath caught in my throat at the knock on the door.

“May I come in?” Dominic’s voice was low, entreating.

“No.”

The chair against the door slid from its position, levitated, and was eased down in a silent, sweeping movement that rendered its purpose obsolete. A sliver glow flicked along the inside of the door and Dominic strolled in, hands in pockets, face expressionless, and pitfall-deep eyes sharpening on me.

“Why ask if I didn’t have a choice?”

He shrugged. “The illusion of choice can be comforting.”

“Anything tied to this situation has no comfort.” Including you.

Walking farther into the room, his eyes dropped from mine. “We hadn’t finished our conversation.”

“I felt it was necessary for you to resolve the issue between you and Helena so your next interaction isn’t a homicide.”

“Helena was just venting,” he offered in a tone too passive for someone who had enraged his sibling to the point of them holding a broken bottle to their throat.

“Well, it was kind of you to give her better access to those vital arteries she was aiming for.”

His lips curled slightly and he lifted his eyes to meet mine, showing a primal amusement.

We fell into an uneasy silence.

“Are you two always so…” I searched for the word. Dysfunctional? Masochistic? Ridiculous? Unhinged? “Intense?”

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