Page 20 of Magic of the Damned

Abstract art and sculptures on pedestals. The number of winged creatures on display was astonishing. Angels? Was this irony? One sculpture of a copper-winged person on its knees in what looked like supplication—its wings fanned together behind its back—seemed to be a statement piece. I slowed to give it a better look.

It wasn’t me being distracted by the sculpture or being several feet behind him that placed a wary frustration on Dominic’s face. “That is all,” he told the guards. “No need for such formality at my arrival. At ease. Always.”

He looked at me, I assumed to tell me to follow. Before we could continue down the long expansive entryway, one of the guards responded.

“But your father?—”

“You’re my guards. You answer to me, not my father.” He made an attempt at a smile, but it seemed to be too much effort. “I will talk to him about it. For me, this is unnecessary.”

You don’t get a twelve-guard welcome if you’re just a glorified babysitter of misbehaving supernaturals. Dividing my attention between the infinite gray of the outdoors offered by the large picture windows, the guards at the door, the palatial home, and the spiraling dual staircases we’d passed, my attention finally returned full circle to Dominic. His brows rose.

“Have you forgotten the reason for your visit, Luna?”

With the mildest change of inflection, lilt, or modulation he managed to say so much with just the simple use of my name. I hated it. A sharp emphasis on the L made it a chastisement. I took a few larger steps to catch up with him. To match his long strides, I had to take double steps. He seemed to be all legs.

“In my world, guards usually don’t live in a mansion, and I’m sure they don’t get such a reception whenever they go home. I’m willing to bet at work they probably just get a simple wave, maybe an unenthusiastic nod before going through a metal detector,” I pointed out, leaving an opening for him. Which he didn’t take, simply responding with a shrug.

“You’re more than just the guardian of the Perils, aren’t you?”

He ignored my question.

This guy.

“You’re…” I prompted, letting the word linger.

“Dominic.”

“Oh, all Dominics are greeted with a military welcome?”

He stopped abruptly. His depthless dark eyes, which always had a flicker of a fading fire in them, studied me in contemplative silence before he resumed his rushed long-strides.

“Why are you guarding prisoners? It seems like you’re in a position to have others do that.” It would be a lot easier to continue with my questioning if he was more forthcoming and not power walking.

“I have help.”

“You do most of it?”

A tiny nod in response.

“Is it a micromanagement situation? Do you feel like you’re the only one who can handle it?”

He sped up, forcing me to jog and ignore the rows of closed doors we passed just to keep pace with him. We turned down a long hallway. At the sight of the library, I stopped. Seeing it lifted my mood even if for just a moment.

Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a rolling ladder, vaulted ceiling with gilded trimmings. In the corner, there were oversized plush chairs in pairs with a small table between, and a circular ottoman in front of each. On the other side of the room, a semi-private area boasted a cognac-colored leather chaise. Warm yellow walls made the room so inviting. The only thing that would complete the paradise would be a coffee/tea bar and a snack station. I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to leave it, even for food.

I stepped in, inhaling the scent of leather, vellum, aged paper, and the faint scent of oak that lingered in the air. It was like being hugged by a book. It took effort not to just stay there, but I turned around to find Dominic regarding me with a smirk.

“Sorry,” I said, backing out.

We returned to our journey down the never-ending hallway. After another turn, he unlocked beautiful double doors, but when I pressed my hands against them, they were heavier than expected and more difficult to move than Dominic made it look.

The doors led us to another section of the house that seemed as if it didn’t belong. Dull beige walls, unimpressive flooring, and no evocative art, beautiful décor, or beautiful libraries. This area was functional. Dominic stopped at a heavy door that I assumed led to the prison. To my surprise, there wasn’t a lock or any other barrier to entry.

“You sure magic released them and they just didn’t walk out?” I mumbled.

He turned to face me, studying me, his expression indecipherable, but the intensity of his gaze could not be ignored. When he moved closer, the heat of his body wrapped around me, his fiery gaze held mine, and pulling away didn’t feel like an option. He studied me with interest, while I just gawked at him like a person oblivious to the social contract of not staring.

“You are quite the peculiar human, aren’t you?”

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