Page 48 of Magic of the Damned

He frowned. “Magic has only been shared by other magic holders. From my knowledge, it has never been tried with a non-magical. There was no precedent that showed you casting a spell would work. You were used as a test subject. If you’re able to power this magic, you’ll be able to survive witch magic. It’s closer to Caster magic than mine, it appears.”

My frustration was solely directed at the Dark Caster. Did they have some privileged knowledge that this would work? Was I simply a guinea pig to them, risking my life without any evidence it would have been successful? Things could have gone in an entirely different direction. I could have died that day. Tamping down the panic became so difficult, I focused on things in my control.

“How soon can we get me magic?” I needed this to end and the Dark Caster found. If the desire for anonymity allowed them to adhere to some semblance of rule, then let them have it and get me out of this world.

“I just need to make the arrangements. Later today, or early tomorrow. Witches dislike being without their magic. When you have it all your life, it’s as if a part of you is missing when divested of it. We will need to be efficient and strike true. I’ll have all the spells in order for it.”

Strike true? With so many possible combinations of spells, could we do that? The silence was stretched taut, his expression indiscernible. I wondered if we shared the same worry.

“I’d like you to stay another day,” he requested.

This time, I actually wanted the same. But it was Wine-Down, and I wanted to be there for Emoni and Cameron. It would also give Dominic more time to work through the spells.

“I have to work tomorrow—and it’ll give me an opportunity to travel home and back here alone.”

A sly look shadowed over his face. Had I messed up his redirection? “Of course, we want you to be able to do that,” he said.

Next time, try it with feeling.

Dominic escorted me to another room. At the door, he whispered a spell, his forearm ink illuminating, the markings awakening at his command, scrolling around his arm and realigning, causing the door to open for us. The midnight-blue room had the same unsettling feeling as the spellbook room. Strong magic thrummed through it. The ominous feel of energy that wasn’t quite right and definitely didn’t appreciate me being here. There were just a few books on the shelves, and they gave me an invisible push anytime I inched close to them. It only added to what was an extensive magical deterrent for the room.

The simple wooden box that held the Trapsen opened with a similar disarming process. Dominic could keep it wherever he wanted or leave it out in the middle of a room; only he could get to it.

An object that transports a person to the Underworld should look a lot more portentous than a silver, pink, and azure palm-size triangular prism. I examined the object, turning it over, exploring the barely discernable sigils etched into it. The little ebb of light that pulsed inside it.

“This is it?” There wasn’t any way of hiding my disappointment. Part of me wanted it to be something grand, like the staff from Lord of the Rings. I’d be Gandalf, extending my mighty staff, requesting passage to the Underworld. Instead, he gave me a palm-size prism and a small pocketknife.

“What do I do with the knife?”

Smiling, Dominic took it from me and lightly pressed it to my hand, enough to feel the bite of the blade but not draw blood. He was very skilled at testing and knowing the limits of injury. The same delicate precision of movement exhibited when he showed me his claw.

“You must draw blood and close it around the Trapsen. The transport is easy. Concentrating on your intended destination is the hard part.”

“If I think of somewhere else, that’s where I’ll end up?”

He nodded.

“One quick thought about London, poof, I’m there?”

He confirmed with another small nod, an amiable smile spreading over his lips. “No worries, I’d find you wherever you go.” A look of self-satisfaction passed over his features. His hand covered the Trapsen held in my palm. His fierce amber eyes held mine, expressing the very thing that his words only hinted at. I will find you. Taking a step back, I swallowed.

“I know you will.”

“Do you?”

I nodded, huffing out a sigh. “So we’re back to this? Threats don’t work on me.”

He just made a sound. “When will you return?”

“I work until nine, but it might take longer. We have Wine-Down Thursday and it’s usually busy afterward. We stay open longer,” I told him.

“Good, I should have things arranged by then.” He stepped back, giving me an expectant look. He seemed very uninterested in my solo travel from the Underworld. I expected more: him reiterating the process, words of encouragement, a reminder to stay focused. Something. But that was it. He left momentarily to get my overnight bag and handed it to me. One mini lesson and I was traveling alone without so much as a goodbye and try not to end up in Istanbul.

I hooked my overnight bag on my shoulder. He waited several feet from me, motionless and silent, in that eerie way of his.

Using my home as the exit point from the Underworld was too unsettling, so I chose a spot that had been used before—the alleyway of Books and Brew.

Closing my eyes, I focused on the location before remembering that I needed to prick my hand close it around the Trapsen. When I opened my eyes, Dominic’s arms were crossed over his chest, giving me a view of the new reassembling of ink on his arms, looking bemused.

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