Page 167 of Magic of the Damned

They had every right not to be enthusiastic about looking for someone who was so cavalier about sentencing them to certain death.

Dominic must have returned Celeste to her prison, which was why Helena, rather than Dominic, was there to offer me help. I wondered if the results would be the same if he hadn’t been the one to return Celeste. Would we be looking for Dominic instead of Helena?

“We are one collective,” added Emory, shamelessly unabashed by his current state of nudity situation. Then he looked at his cohorts. “The infighting left us vulnerable. We can’t allow this to continue. We must be aligned, without limitations.” There seemed to be a general acceptance of that. I was positive that the collective would be against the royals and their involvement, and was only agreeable to the truce because it was mutually beneficial.

“Why is he naked?” Emoni whispered, but with their hearing, the shifters and vampires heard her.

Before I could answer, Emory padded closer, smirking, locking his gaze with her. Emoni wasn’t a stranger to a lot of attention from a wide assortment of men: you-don’t-have-a-chance-in-hell; you’re pretty, I’m pretty, let’s date; I’m rich, that has to get me some points. But a naked dhole shifter with a villainous English accent had to be a first.

“It appears we don’t have magic. So, we were forced back into our human form, and the ability for the witches to clothe us was taken as well.” He directed a shrewd glare to Ileana.

“What type of shifter are you?” Unbothered by the nude Bond Villain, Emoni’s interest remained piqued.

“Dhole,” he said.

Fear and disgust was discarded like litter; excitement blazed in Emoni’s eyes, smothering any display of apprehension. My friend is weird. It was a reluctant acceptance.

“And you can shift?” Because Anand was a non-shifting shifter, she hadn’t been able to see a shift.

All eyes turned to Ileana, who nodded. It was doubtful the shifters cared about the dhole shifting to assuage my friend’s curiosity. They wanted their ability to perform magic. People who possessed such power didn’t like it restricted in any way. That had been made apparent to me by Helena’s reaction when she attempted to stab her brother with a broken wine bottle when he performed a spell to block her magic. Along with the royals’ gifts seemed to be an innate compulsion to do whatever was needed to obtain more power and abilities.

Moments after Ileana stepped out, the shifters’ bodies contracted and shuddered as if fighting off a surge of magic that would force them back into their animal form. The dhole gave in to the magic and shifted, looking predatory as he padded around Emoni. Fascination had robbed my friend of all her self-protective instincts, and she knelt, positioning her face close to his but not before me giving her a reminder that dholes were aggressive predators. Him sharing a body with a human didn’t change that. Ignoring my warning, Emoni had clearly decided that the predatory dhole was as harmless as a cute toy poodle and was treating him as such.

Please don’t bite my friend.

“That one is human. How will that be handled?”

Emoni was too busy sinking her fingers into the fur of the predatory dog, so she missed the fact she’d become the subject of discussion.

A vampire stepped forward to handle the situation with compulsion. Emoni looked up from the animal and noticed that all eyes had turned to her and that a vampire with exposed fangs was just inches from her.

Blocked by Dominic, he revealed his fangs in warning, pulling a dismissive smirk from Dominic.

“She’s fine. Your anonymity will remain. Luna is human and knows.”

From their looks, grumbles, and murmurs, I’d graduated from “his human” to something else. In that vicarious state between not quite human or supernatural. A place that garnered me more contempt than value.

The sharp hiss rang in the room before the vampire lunged at Emoni. Dominic caught him by the throat before tossing him to the other side of the room. Emoni sucked in a breath, shuffled back several feet, and Anand grabbed hold of her, pulling her to him. She nestled closer, a flare of fear in her eyes. Emoni fisted his shirt, burrowing closer to him. I wanted her to be cautious but not hammered by the reality of how easily her life could be snuffed. Anger placed an unbearable tightness in my chest and a thirst for revenge that felt bitter. I hated it.

“Stop,” Dominic commanded Emory who, during the commotion, had shifted to human form. Slowly approaching Emoni, Emory seemed unsettled by her loss of interest, which he had clearly enjoyed. Her face was a sheet of fear and apprehension. Ragged breaths escaped and her tense stance made it clear she wanted to be anywhere other than in a room of the magically inclined.

Emory continued moving toward Emoni and Anand, but when she reared back farther into Anand he stopped and looked in the direction of the witches. With a casual wave from one of them, he was clothed.

He slowed his approach. His voice dropped to a low satin tone. Gentle and comforting. “Are you okay?” She barely bent her head into the nod.

“Lovely. Know that we aren’t all like that. Your safety is a concern to us all. His behavior was unwarranted and deserving of Dominic’s harsh response.” He was slathering it on a little too thick and disingenuous.

From my short time with vampires, I’d noticed that they tended to be brusque, impulsive, and with a propensity for violence when protecting their anonymity and themselves. Emory’s PR scrubbing of the vampire’s misdeeds earned him a side-eye glare. He saw it, ignored it, but halted his advance toward her.

It had nothing to do with my look of disapproval and Anand’s thunderstorm look that added to the tension in the room.

“It’s fine. I understand you don’t want people to know about you all, but is murder really necessary?” Emoni asked.

His brows drawn together, he looked back at the vampire who’d recovered and was avoiding Anand’s challenging gaze that seemed like he was encouraging him to consider another attempt. “He wouldn’t have killed you. The miscreant was going to compel you to forget.” There was an effort to sound confident, but I wasn’t buying it. Compelling someone took time.

“Messing with my mind?” she asked. Repulsion and anger overshadowed the fear.

He nodded. Disgust, anger, and disbelief competed for expression on her face. Guilt welled in me because I’d allowed Dominic to manipulate her memories after she’d been attacked with a necri spell. Although it was done to protect her, I still agreed with her. Manipulation of a person’s world took away their autonomy and was a violation.

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