Page 137 of Magic of the Damned

“Your mother wants us to meet her at seven,” I breathed out when the kiss ended.

He nibbled at my ear. “Then we have time.” Taking my hand, he led me back to the apartment. As soon as we were in the room, his hand teasingly ran over my body, a delicious distraction that I refused to succumb to. I took his hand in mine and led him to the sofa where I urged him to sit.

“Helena sided with your father. That has to hurt and I’m sorry that happened.” More so because his refusal to kill me was likely the root of it. I laced my fingers with his.

A stern frown settled on his face before it unfolded into poorly restrained anger and frustration.

“There must be a reckoning for her, but my mother’s wishes will be honored.”

Helena’s life would be preserved. The flames that erupted in his eyes made it clear that only her life would be spared. The punishment would be harsh.

“Punishment or not, it has to hurt,” I said. Ileana’s words, although convoluted as hell, stuck with me. I needed to take care of Dominic in my way. Even if that was in no other way than allowing him to vent his anger about the betrayal.

“It’s not that she chose my father’s side. It is Helena’s nature to choose the side of strength.” He pressed his lips together, unable to voice what it meant. She saw a weakness in him that led her to believe that siding with her father to disrupt and destroy what Dominic had built was the winning side. After the sacrifices and accommodations Dominic made in service to her, to protect her and make sure she didn’t suffer any severe consequences for her many malicious acts, this was how she repaid him.

My lips swept lightly over his skin before making their way to his ear. “I want you to do what needs to be done to reestablish a world that will protect humans and hold supernaturals accountable if they violate the rules. I want fairness for both, and I think you do as well. Most of all, I want you to be Lord of the Underworld. By any means. I will be your anchor to make sure you never become your father, that you don’t lose yourself.”

Concessions would have to be made on both our parts. I had to accept that the world he occupied was darker, more turbulent, and handled with a ferocity that I wasn’t accustomed to. Dominic would have to see that his way may not always be the answer, but I had a feeling he’d listen and try.

I let out a sharp gasp when I found myself on my back, Dominic’s hips cradled between my legs. “Little Luna,” he rumbled against my ear, “you turned out to be an unexpected treat.”

“Maybe I’ll get some height with the recreation,” I teased. “Maybe a boost to five five, five six. Or a total giant at five seven.”

His roar of laughter possessed a lightness I wasn’t aware was possible in him. Whether it was for the moment or entirely, he had shrugged off the heaviness and tenebrous mood. “Like I said before, I want—need—you to come out of this as Luna, my Luna. I want you just the way you are.”

But I wouldn’t be just the way I was.

I’d have magic.

CHAPTER 22

Ileana’s chamber didn’t display the regal, unique beauty of the other rooms. Textured pewter-color walls, thick heavy drapes covering a floor-to-ceiling window, and a somber peach glow from the lantern sconces gave the room a grim appearance. There was a bookshelf on one side of the room, filled with books, jars, and on a shelf by itself, a dagger with markings.

Ileana gave Dominic’s and my clasped hands a look of cool regard, her lips forming a tight moue before her gaze trailed over Dominic’s face, studying it with an intensity that would have made me uncomfortable but had no effect on him. Her low-cut white flowy maxi dress exposed toned arms and legs with each step she made toward us. Her hair pulled back in a braid gave us a full view of her features that seemed harsher under the unflattering lights.

Extending her hand to me, she gave me an expectant look, cuing me to take it. I did, and a small smile eased over her lips.

“Dominicus, she’s mine now.”

So, there’s not a less creepy way to say that?

He nodded but hesitated, definitely sensing my unease that I couldn’t seem to marshal. After several long, measured breaths, I assured him it was okay. Or as okay as it could be, given the circumstances.

Once he was gone, with a wave of her hand, the ajar door closed completely. My attention snapped to it. Bronze illumination locks formed along it, followed by a wall of lively vines. Moments later the lights dimmed until she was just shadows of movement circling me. Following each step, I focused on the glint of the knife in her hand. Risking a glance, I looked at the shelf where the knife had been. It was gone.

“He’s never been one to take the easy way out,” she mused in a low, sorrow-laden voice. “Nor have I fully understood him.”

With each revolution, she got closer and closer. Finally, she was directly in front of me, her eyes pensive and full of curiosity. “He chooses entropy over your destruction. I don’t truly understand. You are quite lovely, but are you worth it?”

Taking her question as rhetorical, I tried to breathe normally while preparing to ward off a knife attack that I wasn’t likely to survive.

“I could save him from himself and make this situation markedly better,” she continued.

“But you won’t,” I asserted with an assurance that surprised me.

“No, I won’t.” A trace of sadness was in her admission. “I may not understand the plays he makes, but they have always proven to have long-term benefits. He wants you alive. I don’t believe it will serve any other benefit than to make him happy. And that matters to me. Extend your arms.”

Ignoring the feeling of dread that washed over me, I thought of her words. Ending my life would hurt her son. Despite her odd sensibilities and apathy to chaos or the well-being of anyone who wasn’t a creation of hers, she loved her children. It was warped in its nature, but it was intrinsic in its execution.

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