Page 26 of Magic of the Damned

I nearly missed the bizarre plant as I became increasingly aware of his closeness, his warm, wine-scented breath breezing against my face. The hint of pear, white nectarine, and faint notes of honey and apple lingered on it.

He didn’t seem to mind our proximity. He left just enough space between us to bring the glass to his lips again and for me to become acutely aware of how savagely beautiful he was. After finding myself staring at him, I shifted back and shoved a piece of cheese in my mouth and concentrated on tearing off a piece of baguette.

Dominic leaned against the counter behind him and sipped his wine, looking through the window. But he didn’t seem relaxed by the view. Pulling my attention from my food to him, I took in not just his beauty but also his blood-speckled shirt. It didn’t seem to bother him. Maybe he was used to it. Blood on his shirt wasn’t cause for alarm.

“You live here?”

“Yes.”

“Are guardians of the supernatural prison typically greeted as you were and allowed to live in a mansion with their sibling?” I took a sip of water.

He met my gaze and nodded.

“You’re not just a guard are you, Dominic?” I asked, trying to emphasize his name as he had mine.

Without entertaining my question, he gulped down the remainder of his wine. “I trust you can find your way back to the room.”

With that, he was gone, striding quick and graceful down the hall.

Not wanting to chance another run-in with Helena, I devoured the rest of my food and returned to the spellbook room, where I found Dominic, who had changed into a blue shirt and midnight-blue slacks. His hair was slightly disheveled. A peppery, earthy scent of either soap or cologne broke through the other smells in the room. There was an icy edge to his mien. One that I was sure I couldn’t thaw.

In wary silence, I returned to my search. I completed the rows of books I could easily reach and unsuccessfully pushed to the tips of my toes to reach the books on the second to top shelf. Who has bookshelves this high without a step stool or ladder?

Dominic sidled up next to me, his body warm, his scent intoxicating and preferable to the others that inundated the room. With a taunting smirk, he handed me the book.

“Thank you. If you get me a step stool or ladder, I can reach the rest.”

“We don’t have a step stool.” His voice was light with amusement.

I huffed. “So, everyone who uses this room is a giant.” My height was a sore subject with me. It wouldn’t have been if people didn’t make a big deal of it. I wasn’t that short. The average height for a woman was five-four. Just two inches below average and people were ready to put me in the same category as Thumbelina. And Emoni mocking me for having that information “in the chamber” only made things worse. She was probably right; knowing the average of anything to use in a debate did point to it being a contentious subject.

He shrugged, the quirk still on his lips. “Anyone who uses this room can reach the shelves. Until now.” Based on everyone I’d seen, no one would have a problem. Even Helena was just three or four inches shorter than him.

With no desire to be more fodder for his amusement, I moved to the next shelf and worked on the books that I could reach and he continued adding spells to the notebook. The ones in languages I didn’t understand, he translated into English on the paper. Based on the twelve books we’d gone through, the marks on my finger weren’t very discerning. They had selected forty-nine spells.

“What next?” I asked.

He slid a piece of paper toward me. “These are the spells used to secure the prison. I’ve done a reversal spell and it didn’t work.” He moved closer, taking my hand in his. He removed the ring and studied the intricate markings on my finger. His hand was warm and his touch gentle as he moved my hand around to inspect each mark. Distinguishing the network, he used a finger to travel the various lines, pointing out the distinctions of the spells. There were seven spells that needed to be unraveled.

My hope began to peter out again. He evoked several spells, keeping a close eye on my finger for a reaction. When a golden outline illuminated one of the lines on my finger, we both breathed a sigh of relief. He made note of it and continued. One spell down. He invoked thirty spells out of the forty-nine and my markings only reacted to three. This was going to be a long, arduous task. And fatigue was setting in. I needed to sleep.

Standing, I stretched. “I get off work at three tomorrow,” I informed him and then flashed a smile. “Maybe you can find a step stool by then.”

His eyebrows inched together with confusion.

“Step stool or small ladder. They’re everywhere. You can get one from Target. You have to know what I’m talking about.”

He shook his head. “I know what a step stool is. Where are you going?”

“Home. I can’t stay here.” Based on the look on his face, that was exactly what was expected. For my life to be placed on hold and me to remain completely devoted to his cause until this was complete. “Dominic, I have a job. I have friends. If I go missing, things are going to get very complicated. Questions will need to be answered.”

“Luna, things are already complicated. Do you grasp the severity of this situation?”

“If anyone does, I do. You have a single-mission focus. Find the Dark Caster. When this is over, I can’t be jobless because of no-shows for work, and I’ll have to explain going missing to my friends and family. And ‘I was just hanging out in the Underworld with the Perils’ guardian’ isn’t going to cut it.”

“Tell them what you must when this is over, but you aren’t leaving.”

My heart pounded. Could he stop me leaving? How could I get out of the Underworld when he was my passage out?

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