Page 55 of A Touch of Brimstone

Repulsed, I went outside, several feet from the store. Stared at the markings on my finger.

“Undo,” I whispered.

“Luna.”

I turned to see Jackson, who had been compelled to go home. I wondered, like the witch’s curse, whether the compulsion broke when the vampire died. He eased toward me, the arrogance and self-assurance muted, genuine concern and curiosity filling his eyes.

“Can we talk?”

“About what?” I asked. Magic? Because if you remember it, hell yeah, let’s discuss it. I was desperate enough to even collaborate with him. He’d become the lesser of two evils.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, you seem like you could use someone to talk to,” he said. “Let’s get a drink.”

Alarms went off. Apprehensive, I took several steps back. “Maybe another time.”

Something was off and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

He grasped my arm. “It doesn’t have to be a drink. Coffee?” He pointed in the direction of the Starbucks a few blocks away. His grip tightened at my attempt to tug out of his hold.

“Is everything okay?” Dominic asked.

Jackson released my arm.

“Everything is fine.” The contempt Jackson had for Dominic was the only thing consistent about him. “You know where to find me, if you need me,” Jackson entreated. Hints of desperation lingered in his voice as concern flooded his eyes.

Dominic pressed his hand to my back. Warmth crept along it, and I stayed in place as Jackson warily backed away, his shoulders drooped.

Things were indeed a mess if I was contemplating going to Jackson for help despite something being noticeably off about him. For a brief moment, I thought he could provide something Dominic couldn’t. Not quite safety—maybe a neutral zone? Or perhaps it was just familiarity. That’s what it was. Despite his recent unsavory role in my life, the weirdness going on with him, he was a version of normal, and nothing I was experiencing was anywhere near that now.

I wanted somewhat normal, even if it was in the company of Jackson.

17

I navigated from my world to Dominic’s massive estate in a fugue state, unable to get Jackson’s look of defeat out of my mind. It was as if he’d failed to stop an accident. Despite his unsettling mien, his insistency was protective. Even Helena’s searing glare as I passed her in the home’s entrance, arms crossed over her chest, couldn’t pull me out of my state and my debate over whether I should have left with him.

She extended her arms to her brother, showing him her magic-restricting sigils, her lips a thin tight line. “Remove it,” she demanded.

Helena sneered at Dominic’s hollow and dispassionate expression as he approached his sister.

“You’re not nearly as clever and sneaky as you believe yourself to be. Your slow reaction wasn’t for deliberation; it was to provide him the opportunity to kill Luna. The second one, you weren’t aiding me; it was a chance for him to finish where the first one had failed,” he said in a low, carefully controlled, rough voice. “They nearly killed Luna, and that was your intention.” He turned on his heels, striding past me, leaving me in her crosshairs. Her features wilted into a sullen look of disappointment before it snapped into anger, which she directed at me.

“Don’t you dare be smug,” she snarled. She had definitely misread my expression. Not smug. Shock. I had given her the benefit of the doubt. I knew in the moment of fighting and chaos, it was hard to prioritize and errors in judgment were inevitable. But they hadn’t been errors—they were opportunities for my assassination.

Her movements were like the strike of a serpent, quick and deadly as she devoured the space between us. Refusing to cower, I squared my shoulders and met her blazing, spiteful eyes.

“Don’t be too confident in Dominic’s protection. He only seeks to capture and destroy the only person whose magic rivals ours. This is not an act of altruism. It’s ego-driven and nothing more. When he finds you have no value to him and aren’t a means to a satisfying end, he’ll go nuclear.” Her nails swiped across my neck. I knew she wished she had her claws. “Then there will be no more Luna.”

Stepping away, I said, “You mean, magic that rivals his. You no longer have magic.” Turning from her, I kept looking forward, feeling her hard stare boring into me. I didn’t care about her or her hate-laced glares. If she attacked me, I was going to fight dirty. I wasn’t above using the tried-and-true windmill tactic. I was bound to land at least one good blow.

Dominic hadn’t waited for me, which was probably best. I needed some time alone to process everything. Making my way to the room where I’d stayed before, it surprised me to find Dominic seated in the chair, legs spread, deep in thought. His eyes slowly moved to mine. The raw depths held a level of unrestrained violence and calculating intensity that supported Helena’s comments.

He rose from his chair like a numinous wave. Not only had an attempt on my life been made, but one on his as well.

I pointed to my overnight bag, which I hadn’t considered when we were leaving the store. It had the Trapsen and the knife in it. Placed in my locker, I didn’t fear it would be taken. If found, it would probably be by someone who had no idea what it was. But I felt better knowing that a pathway to the Underworld was no longer in my locker—secured only by a padlock. And since Dominic had it, not one vulnerable to supernatural lock picking.

“My bag,” I said, hoping to start some dialogue because him motionlessly watching me was off-putting.

He nodded, not offering anything more of an explanation.

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