Page 72 of Magic of the Damned

My eyes dropped from his to the markings on his body, finding the markings on his chest that were like the new ones on Helena. Without thinking how creepy and invasive it was, my fingers traced the intricate pattern.

“This is why the witches’ magic doesn’t affect you?”

He nodded.

“Can I get one?” Although an admirer of body art, I’d never had the desire to get my own. But if this could keep me from being susceptible to the whims of the supernaturals, I’d do it.

He shook his head. “You don’t have magic.”

“That’s the problem. You all do. That puts us at a disadvantage. We can’t even protect ourselves from magic with something like this.” I hadn’t moved my hand from the tattoos. His muscles tensed under my touch.

He frowned. “I wish I could change that for you. I can’t. Luna, we have to return the prisoners and defeat the Dark Caster.”

“Peter,” I offered. It still felt peculiar associating his name with something so dangerous. But undoing his magic was a priority.

CHAPTER 22

Madeline sat in the chair where I’d first encountered her. Her eyes, and the eyes of everyone in the Conventicle, pierced me with wary annoyance. Either they had the good manners or the self-preservation instinct not to say it, but they seemed to be wondering why I was still alive. Madeline had refused to meet Dominic without them present, which worked out. He was able to tell them about the plans to take over the Conventicle. They didn’t seem worried enough about that, but they did seem worried that the attack on Dominic ensured that he’d be involved.

His request for Madeline’s magic garnered more of a reaction than the news about the coup. Nothing about these people made sense. They all seemed to share the shock of his request, unable to understand why he wasn’t taking the easy way out. End me, break the spells.

Madeline’s look of abhorrence overshadowed them all. As if she were a queen requested to do menial labor.

Canting her head, she blinked hard once. “I’m sorry?” Clearly, she must have heard him wrong. He could not possibly have asked her to share her wondrous magic with a mere human. She blinked again, waiting for him to repeat his request.

“We have the spells; we just need magic. Your magic to invoke them. My magic can’t be loaned to her.”

Madeline reacted to that as though it invoked a terrible memory. Had she known someone who attempted to take his magic?

For someone who wanted the prisoners returned and the coup against the Conventicle handled, she was taking a long time to respond. I wasn’t the only person who thought this because the impatience in the room was palpable.

A waifish Hispanic woman with loosely curled midnight hair and deep golden skin with cool undertones curled her lips back, revealing sharp canines. Vampire. I assumed Kane’s replacement. “A decision needs to be made, Madeline,” she drawled.

“Fine. One hour and I must be present the entire time. The moment the prisoners are returned, my magic is returned as well. I don’t want your human to get any ideas.”

His human. Nothing about my snarl was human, and it sounded so close to a growl that Lance, the shameless shifter, found it humorous.

“Just once, an exception will be made, and you can travel to the Underworld,” Dominic conceded. “Shall we?” He turned, heading for the door without looking back, expecting Madeline and me to follow.

“No,” I said. He stopped and turned to look at me. For just a moment, he wore his shock on his face before erasing it, leaving him expressionless. A blank canvas. The tension remained in his posture. He crossed his arms over his chest, giving me the full weight of his stare. Hard and penetrating.

“I have some requests,” I told him.

Everyone looked surprised except for the tattooed seer from the first meeting. With a smirk on his face, he rested back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head as if preparing for a show.

“You all need to stay hidden,” I demanded.

“We are,” the vampire provided, becoming less invested in the conversation with each passing moment.

“But you’re not. You all aren’t known to us, but you’re very much present in our lives.” My eyes flicked to Dominic. “You compel us, manipulate us and our memories.” I looked at the vampire. “Feed from us.” I looked at each of them, giving them my full attention. “Use magic to corral us and influence our lives. Whether or not you are seen, you affect our existence. That needs to stop now.” Emboldened by images of Emoni’s fear-stricken face, I knew I had to do something.

I looked at each one of them, giving them the full weight of my condemnation. And they responded with offense—definitely a result of being reprimanded by a human.

“You have rules to keep and you have a concerted effort to ensure that, but when you are discovered by humans, we suffer the consequences. That stops now.”

“And if it doesn’t?” one of the shifters asked in a dagger-sharp warning, leaning over the table, predatory eyes homed in on me. Drawing up taller, I met his ire. Whether it was magic I wasn’t aware of or the sheer intensity of a shifter’s glare, it was difficult to hold. Sheer defiance was the only thing that kept me doing it.

“Nothing. I’ll go home, learn to live with the markings on my finger, and you all live with three powerful beings who have a thirst for revenge. Beings who will eventually get word that they’re at no risk of being imprisoned again. They won’t have any qualms about being discovered. That will nullify Dominic’s involvement, leaving you all to deal with the coup. They’ve demonstrated the ability to be quite efficient with their violence. I suspect you’ll spend most of your time trying to stay alive. And the Awakeners? You probably won’t have to worry about them. They’ll be cleaned up in the sweep as the others eliminate you all. Their ‘comply or die’ policy will ensure that.”

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