Page 191 of Magic of the Damned

Sinking my fingers through his hair, playing with the strands, I was trying to focus on his questions, which was getting increasingly difficult because my body craved to respond to his touch.

“What are your plans again?” He repeated the same question he’d asked before bed the night before.

“Get my job back.” I beamed.

Warm breath from his chuckle brushed over my skin. “I see your plan to get your job back hasn’t advanced any more than yesterday.”

“I do have a plan. Puppy dog eyes and apologies. That’s plan A,” I said, giving him a light smack across his back when his chuckle transitioned to his tongue grazing over my belly. “I plan to tell her it was urgent family matters and hope she doesn’t ask further questions.”

He repositioned himself until he straddled me. With an arm on each side of me, he held my eyes. The banked fire in them drew me in until they extinguished into deep amber. He seemed to understand I didn’t want to discuss my job any further. I really didn’t have a plan but desperately wanted to return.

Dominic studied me for several moments. The weight and intensity of his scrutiny made me drop my eyes from him several times. It felt like he was stripping away the layers of a facade I had haphazardly erected. Despite the affection that peeked through, it felt invasive.

“Why didn’t you even inquire about a way for your magic to be returned?”

“It was never mine,” I said. “If I had it, I’d be tethered to the magical world. If it’s ever discovered that magic could be taken and harnessed for someone’s own purposes, I’d be a target. Or, fear of the type of magic I possessed would open me up to attempts to stop it by killing me. Even if it was determined I’d never be a risk to anyone, the magic would always be coveted. I don’t want a life constantly upended by requests for alliances. Being with you will come with some risks, I know that. I don’t want magic to add to that.”

“Risks?” He chuckled.

“My life being endangered because of you is funny?”

“Not at all. Of all the things to worry about, that should not be a concern. I give you my word no one will come near you, for any reason. Your life will be more protected than theirs because their existence hinges on it.” His chest reverberated with the growl in his words.

Pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, he deepened it. His lips rested on mine.

“Say it.”

I smiled against his mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

CHAPTER 20

Ihad given it two weeks to make sure everything had settled and that I wouldn’t be met with any more surprises. Except for the updates Dominic gave me during his visits, my life had returned to normal—somewhat normal. The machinations that existed in the shadows would never allow me to live a completely normal life. It was impossible to believe that.

When I entered the café of Books and Brew, Emoni waved and gave me an excited grin and overly enthusiastic thumbs-up, which did not have the effect she intended. If she felt the need to be so animated and optimistic, it was to help alleviate some of the hopelessness of the situation. My hands shaking was an unexpected response to entering Books and Brew. When I sent Cameron a text asking to speak with her, receiving her quick response made me hopeful, but the closer I got to actually chatting with her, the scarier it seemed.

Come on, Luna, you’ve been around shifters, dark lethal magic, vampires, deity-like beings, and witches. Nothing should shake you.

The pep talk didn’t work. I’d been tossed into those situations operating on adrenaline and the desperate need to survive. Despite death being the possible outcome of those interactions, this one seemed scarier. It was ridiculous. But I felt the way I felt.

I liked my job and working with my best friend made it better. The owner was kind, but it was a big ask to allow me to return to work after having been gone for so long. I hadn’t even given her the consideration of calling out. Or the courtesy of an outlandish excuse. I was nervous, hoping that a personal emergency as an excuse would suffice.

My eyes met Cameron’s and the ebullient smile she flashed quickly faded as if she was reminded that she needed to be angry with me. There was a subtle sheen of worry in her look when she beckoned me to follow her into her office. Small, and often used as secondary storage, the office wasn’t tidy. It never was. Used so infrequently, the computer was surrounded by discarded papers. A few post-its were lined in a row on the table. The smell of coffee and vanilla wafted in the air.

There were boxes of books and supplies stacked in the corner. The long black adjustable standing table that she used, always in the standing position. A chair that looked too comfortable not to take advantage of. A wooden chair positioned in front of it for conferences. It didn’t invite comfort, so conversations while sitting in it were short and sweet.

Cameron didn’t direct me to the chair but directed me to the sofa crammed into the opposite side of the room. It was comfortable in the way a well-used sofa is. Firm but cozy and offering a warmth that relaxed those seated. She handed me a water from the mini fridge and sat at the opposite end of it, turning to me.

Her brow inched up, she took a drink from her own bottle, and pushed out a sigh in a heavy exhalation. “Where have you been?”

The concern etched in her features made me want to spill it all, no matter how unbelievable and strange.

“Reginald told me that you were in deep.” The tarot reader who claimed to be a witch was the first person I called after the incident with the book that started it all, teaching me to stay far away from unique untitled books. It was then I knew his claims to magic weren’t true. He did his best to help me, but the other witches he knew were just as fictitious as he was. And he couldn’t keep a secret, but since most people didn’t believe in the occult, it was safe.

“He went on to insinuate that magic was involved.” The way she waved off that detail, I assumed she thought he was being ridiculous to keep from providing the truth. “Emoni was quite guarded and evasive whenever I inquired about you. She seemed as worried as I was, which made me believe she didn’t know, either.”

My head lowered, I fidgeted with my cuticles and nails, knowing that if the hurt and worry in her words showed just a fraction on her face, the dam would break and I’d be retelling the story to a nice doctor who could give me the help she thought I needed.

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