Page 70 of A Touch of Brimstone

He showed teeth again and nudged me harder. Apparently, I hadn’t moved fast enough, because his mouth covered my arm, his teeth exerting enough pressure to demonstrate how quickly and easily he could get to me and the damage he could cause.

“Point made.”

Taking out the paper, I put the address in the navigation and drove. Zareb settled back. In the rearview mirror, I saw the attentive eyes on me.

“I’m going,” I ground out. I wasn’t going to get magic from Emmanuel, and I had no idea what the next step was.

21

The home leaned into the modern farmhouse design, unlike their apartment. The apartment was him. Sleek lines, modern décor, and a tad pretentious. This was homey, nice, and simplistic. A beige, oversized sofa that looked like a cloud. Blankets peeked out from a soft woven basket. A double fireplace separated the living room from the kitchen.

The kitchen had simple white appliances, light wood cabinets, and a large island in the middle. Light hardwood floors and a round table completed the room. Large sliding doors looked out to acres of land. Whereas the other homes we’d passed had cattle and corn and soybeans, here there was just verdant grass. The scent of pine wafted throughout the house.

The hellhound plopped in front of the door leading to the garage, where the car was parked. “I don’t plan on leaving,” I said, rolling my eyes.

For an hour, I sat in the same place on the sofa, staring at my phone. I texted with Emoni, who was home; nothing about our interaction suggested she’d remembered anything from earlier. I was grateful for that, but knowing the reason still left the heavy weight of guilt.

Dominic walked in with the same wrathfulness in his eyes. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be back.” His eyes moved away from me and he disappeared down the hall.

Initially, I didn’t move. I just wanted to figure out the plan. But, restlessness getting the best of me, I started roaming, starting in the opposite direction Dominic had gone. Nothing was exceptional about the four-bedroom farmhouse. A small sitting area, a library with a few books on the shelves, a small office with an open laptop. The last door was where the house deviated from anything I’d seen. My breath caught at the sight of chains affixed to a rune-covered wall. Swords and blades hung on the opposite side of the room. In the corner was a massive cage.

“Don’t make yourself at home there,” he said from behind me. “Close the door, Luna.”

Startled, I turned to find Dominic wearing just a pair of sweatpants, all his ink on display, inching over his shoulder, the left side of his chest, and twining around his arm, ending at his wrist. The scent of his woodsy soap. Disheveled hair, misted skin, devoid of the savagery that I witnessed, although it lingered in his eyes, posture, and tense muscles. When I didn’t move to close the door, he did. His lips lifted into a lazy smile, which took a lot of effort.

I still eased away from him. He didn’t have to worry about me making myself at home anywhere there was a room that clearly was designed for torture.

His forehead creased. “What were you planning to do with the road flares?”

“Save you?” I squared my shoulders and stood taller.

Amusement curled his lips and lit his eyes. “How?”

I shrugged. “I had flares and a wrench. There wasn’t time to coordinate a proper extraction rescue—so I had to keep the plan simple. I just knew something or someone was going to get hit or burned.”

His lips twitched. He was fighting a laugh. “That doesn’t seem like a viable plan at all.”

“Fire and metal? Did I really need an elaborate plan? Burn and hit. No one’s thinking I’m innocuous with those things at my disposal,” I shot back. And that wrench helped me. Definitely a confidence booster.

“Ah,” was his only response. He licked his lips, his eyes aflame with a wicked delight. “There’s nothing innocuous about you, Luna.”

His lips pressed against mine, hot and commanding. At my response, he pressed me against the wall, the kiss becoming increasingly voracious. Deft fingers slipped under my shirt, kneading my skin. A shiver coursed through my body when his nails grazed over my skin. Dominic’s body was heavy against mine, and my body heated at the awareness of him hardening against my leg.

When he pulled back, I exhaled a breath and tried to focus on anything other than his hands that made me want more. More of his hands, more of his lips, and all the places I wanted to feel them. Prince of the Underworld, I reminded myself, but logic didn’t prevail with him standing there shirtless and in sweats that hung off the crest of his hips. Corded muscles, warm olive skin, intricate tattoos, and raw sexuality.

I put some well-needed space between us. “You can just thank me,” I teased.

He moved closer, devouring the distance. One hand rested on my waist. I could smell the scent of his soap on him, feel the heat of his body. It wasn’t me; his body was abnormally warm. In the cool room, it was welcome. Bending down until his mouth was inches from my lips, he whispered.

“Thank you for your help, Little Luna. I wouldn’t have survived without you.” His lips were so close, the warmth of his breath tickled my lip.

“You’re very welcome.” You’re not the only one who can sound insincere.

He hadn’t moved, and I was acutely aware of everything about him. Him grinning at me urged me to put more distance between us. He seemed unsettled. Frenetic energy that he had difficulty controlling reverberated off him. Based on the way he was looking at me, I knew what he wanted to do to subdue it. His expression promised something sinfully delightful.

I forced every off-putting image I had of him to the forefront, including the room I’d just seen. It wasn’t enough. We needed a distraction. We had one. This crapshow of a situation.

“Is Emmanuel still an option for magic?”

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