Page 63 of A Touch of Brimstone

Dominic appeared to be busying himself, straightening up things in an already immaculate kitchen. He managed to change the spice rack from one side of the stove to the other. The kitchen looked like it had never been used and the spices were for staging purposes only.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concern drenching her voice.

“Yeah, why?”

“Your ex”—the word held the same level of disdain as if she’d said “jackass”—“was in the coffee shop today, urging me to talk to you.” Knowing how Emoni felt about him, Jackson approaching her probably made the situation seem dire.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you with Dominic?” Calling him by name and not referring to him as the handsome man from the coffee shop meant that Jackson had done more than just urge. He probably gave her a Jackson version of the encounter with Dominic and the events of yesterday, if the Dark Caster or the Conventicle crew hadn’t spelled him to forget.

“No.” That lie hurt. “But I’ve hung out with him several times. He’s—” I looked Dominic straight in his face, because he’d given up pretending he wasn’t listening to the call and was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, wearing a crisp, tailored olive-green shirt that complemented his eyes. Making me aware of his enviable long lashes. Perhaps I’d purposely ignored them in my effort to dismiss his allure. Why force people into the Underworld? I was sure he could just entice them into following.

“He’s not as strange as I imagined. Rather interesting, and of course anything Jackson has to say about him is fueled by jealousy.”

Silence.

“Do you have plans today?” she asked.

Yep, I’m getting magic, undoing a spell so I can recapture prisoners from the supernatural prison in the Underworld. Then I plan to sit in front of my TV, watch the lightest, funniest show available while shoving chips and M&Ms in my mouth, and mainline margaritas while devouring tacos. What about you?

“Nothing much, why?”

“Can you stop by the coffee shop for a few minutes? I… I… I’d like to see you. Please.”

It was a strange request, but the anxiety and urgency in her voice made me want to do whatever was necessary to ease it.

“Of course. I’ll see you in an hour,” I told her when Dominic mouthed a time.

“Great.” Relief flooded her voice.

After I disconnected, Dominic was expressionless. The peach glow from the sun through the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up one wall of the apartment created a halation backdrop against his figure.

Pulling my eyes from his, I took in the curved white leather art deco chairs that wouldn’t look out of place in a museum. They were for looks, not function. The clean lines of the wood coffee table. The large artworks hanging on the neutral walls. The rug was the only thing in the living room that looked comfortable. I leaned down to touch the soft material. I could see a sitting room to my right that was just as pristine.

“Helena and I share it. The bedrooms look more lived in,” he admitted.

I looked at him suspiciously, not missing the invitation in his statement.

“Can you take me to the coffee shop, or should I call a Lyft?”

“I’ll take you. I think it’s a good idea for us to stay together until this is over.”

As I followed him down to a garage with a silver BMW sedan, black Audi R8, and a Range Rover, he turned to me and said, “It’s private—came with the apartment.”

Emoni’s eyes brightened when I entered the coffee shop. There weren’t any customers, so she came from behind the counter and hugged me.

I pulled from her hold and studied her. Hugging was another uncharacteristic thing.

“Can you believe this?” She waved a hand toward the bookstore, where the door was closed and there looked to be a team of people repairing things. The display shelves and books had been moved to the coffee shop, along with whatever saleable items had survived.

The items took over a small section of the coffee shop but didn’t seem to bother the few customers. With coffee in hand, they perused the additions while Lilith stood behind the register, waiting to help them with their purchases.

“I wonder why the bookstore was the only store hit,” Emoni mused with a frown.

“What?”

She looked at another barista and mouthed for her to cover. Turning back to me, concern creased a frown in her face, giving her a stern appearance. Her thick, tightly coiled curls were worn back off her face with a Puff Cuff; she looked younger.

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