Page 161 of Magic of the Damned

“Imprisoning—”

“It’s not imprisoning her. It’s regulating her departure,” she quickly refuted.

Sounds like imprisoning to me.

Dominic’s patience was faltering. With jaws clenched, he forced his words through gritted teeth. “Semantics don’t matter. She would still be imprisoned and that’s not the safest thing for either of you. I don’t anticipate anyone coming for her. But it would be foolish to believe that she is no longer a person of interest for many.”

Person of interest prompted Emoni into protective friend mode. “Hurry and put it up, please.”

His reluctance to leave was obvious. “Stay here unless it’s no longer safe to do so.” He inhaled a breath, displaying the intense withdrawn look he got when he was analyzing a situation and trying to determine the best course of action. How easy the situation would be if he could dismiss Helena’s life with the same ease she’d dismissed his.

“I may send Anand here, but I need him for a while.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said.

He nodded, erected the ward, and closed the door.

I had displayed more bravado than I’d felt.

“We will be fine,” Emoni piped up in a spirited voice, trying to allay the unease that must have shown on my face. With an encouraging sympathetic smile, she moved to the corner and picked up the smaller backpack and dropped it in front of the sofa. She plopped onto the sofa and invited me to sit next to her. Opening the backpack, she proudly revealed an assortment of gadgets, weapons, and other accoutrements for protection.

“I brought these just in case things got truly terrible.” The tight smile dipped into a frown. “I feel like we’re there.”

At the top of the heap of weapons and gadgets were zip ties.

“What were you going to do with these?” I asked, snatching up the bundle.

“I had no idea what was going on. Was it going to be a rescue mission or an escape?” In response to my confusion, she blew out an exasperated breath. “Okay, I didn’t have a concrete plan, but someone was going to be tied up. They need their hands for magic, so I was going to prevent any use of magic. You can’t shift if you’re bound. I’m not sure how’d I deal with vampires, but I have this.” She pulled out a vial of what I assumed was holy water, several surprisingly well-made stakes, and handmade wooden crosses. “The holy water was blessed by Pastor Tanner. That bastard actually charged me for it.”

“Of course he did. He has a divorce lawyer to pay,” I pointed out. Tanner was a disgraced pastor from the local nondenominational church who’d risen to fame when his mistress and their three children were discovered. “If he blessed it, how holy do you think that water is?”

I didn’t pursue a conversation on how she’d convinced him to do it. “Hey pastor, can you bless this water so I can go fight vampires?”

“I was not in a position to be picky. Desperate times. He still has the church. I assume a hypocrite’s blessing is better than none. I’m prepared for it all.” She was so confident in her arsenal, it was heartbreaking to dispel her beliefs.

“Shifters are really strong. They’d break the binding during their shift. Holy water and crosses are a myth. You stop a vampire by driving a stake through their heart or cutting off their head. They’re ridiculously fast and strong. Without the element of surprise, a human is unlikely to be successful at doing that. And they can disappear. If they feed, then your efforts were for nothing. I’m not confident witches need their hands for all magic. Sometimes the magic is in the form of a spell and can be just as dangerous.” I’d became a wealth of supernatural information—something I wasn’t particularly proud of. I recalled the ease with which Ophelia used her magic. Without lifting a finger, she’d subjected me to unspeakable pain.

Emoni’s frown deepened but she didn’t look discouraged. She presented a massive knife that could do serious damage, but I was more concerned the damage would be to her.

“Do you know how to use that?”

“I know how to debone a chicken.”

“You think a magic wielder is going to stay still and let you debone them?”

“I was desperate.” She pouted playfully. “Stop punching logic holes in my vampire slayer and magic assassin fantasy,” she grumbled.

“You’re right. I’m confident you would have come with your arsenal of weapons and your knife ready to slice and dice in order to help me,” I teased.

She rolled her eyes and sank into the sofa.

“Where have you been? What happened?” she asked.

“It’s a lot,” I warned.

The scowl twisted her pleasing features. “How much alcohol will I need?”

Flashing a weak smile, I went to the kitchen and rummaged through my cabinets and pulled out a bottle of vodka.

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