Page 39 of Magic of the Damned

He nodded once. A small confirmation, but the confusion remained.

“You heard me calling you?” If he had been close, I wanted to know where. Was one of the rooms on this floor his bedroom? I needed to know how to get to him.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” A flush rose over my cheeks.

“I was in my room,” he offered, putting me out of my misery.

“Is your room close?” I nudged my thumb toward the closed rooms I’d passed the other day.

“No, it’s in the west wing. It took me a while to get here when I heard you call me.” This place was huge enough to have wings and he heard me call him. He was on the other side of the house and: He. Heard. Me. Call. Him. Nope, not terrifying at all.

His curiosity had turned to irritation. “Luna, what do you want?”

“Take me home,” I blurted.

Pushing up from the wall, he appeared reluctant as he looked past me.

“No,” Dominic responded. “You’ll honor your agreement to stay until tomorrow.” His tone was strident and unyielding, as if he’d made a monumental concession by just letting me leave at all to resume my life.

My patience was frayed and my tolerance worn thin. Nailah eased out behind Dominic and looked between the two of us, taking in the tension. No matter how I tried to force my breathing to be calm and measured, it came out in short, sharp clips.

I held Dominic's hard-edged gaze as I marched up to him. “Don’t you ever do that to me again! Do you understand?”

Dark amusement replaced his hauteur. His smirk reached his eyes as he relaxed into it. “Got it. When you are writhing in pain, I should let you be. Apparently, you enjoy it.” Closing the few inches of space I had left between us, he leaned in. “That’s a very interesting bit of information to know about you.” He moistened his lips. “Perhaps there’s more to you than just your petulance.”

There was no denying the salacious innuendo. That wasn’t the draw; it was the way his eyes roved over me, taking me in. Raw hunger. I piqued his interest and the darkness that dwelled in the prince.

“If you don’t move, I’m going to knee you in your prince peas,” I told him through clenched teeth. The challenge in his smirk made me want to act on it, but knowing that guards were just a call away and Anand probably would not tolerate me doing it, I squashed the urge.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. You ever manipulate my mind for any reason, I’m done with you and done with helping.” I shoved his chest to give me more space. He didn’t move. It was like pushing a concrete wall.

Nailah watched our exchange with censure, Anand with curiosity.

“Of course. Your rules. May they serve your life’s interest well,” he agreed. The devil was in the details and I had missed something; that was evident in Dominic’s face. A tacit agreement had been made and I had missed some critical specifics of it.

Responding to Nailah softly calling his name, he turned away and strode toward her with the smooth easy confidence worthy of his position in the Underworld and his command among the supernaturals. The comfortable arrogance was likely the root of their resentment and her strained alliance with him as well.

Several minutes passed in a restless quiet. So much unspoken between them, leading me to wonder about their relationship again. It was strained and it showed.

His hand slipped to her waist and he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. Was that an apology? An appeal for understanding? The end of an impasse or the acceptance of it?

Anand’s impassive face offered nothing.

Dominic whispered something in Nailah’s ear. He was so close to her, and even if his back wasn’t to me, I wouldn’t be able to read his lips. Aware that Anand could probably hear it, I looked to him to see if it prompted a response. Nothing.

Nailah’s look was more expressive than any words. Disappointment and frustration, but with whom or what remained a mystery.

“Anand, take me home, please,” Nailah requested, stepping away from Dominic and giving me another sweeping look before turning away without another word. Had Dominic just sent his conscience away, or was it her decision to leave? I needed her tempered presence and didn’t want her to leave.

Once she left, Dominic turned to me. “Let me show you to the room where you will be staying.”

There was a moment of internal debate, of trying to forcibly hitch a ride back to my world. Then I heaved a sigh and followed him.

CHAPTER 13

Calling it a room was an understatement. If it had a kitchen, it could easily be an apartment. Striking in blush and white, the room boasted gorgeous elaborate ceiling moldings and a king-size bed with a beautiful, tufted headboard and aged wood frame. It all seemed far too elegant for me to wear my oversized shirt that paid homage to The Picture of Dorian Gray—which had seemed whimsical and cheeky while packing—and shorts.

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