Page 73 of Magic of the Damned

“Are you threatening us, human?”

“Is it a threat if I plan to do it?” I challenged. “I’m negotiating on behalf of the humans. If they are safe, I’ll do what I can for you all as well. If not. . .”

Dominic still had the cool, implacable look that made it difficult to read him. If he hated me for this, he wasn’t letting it show.

“You aren’t doing a good enough job. Perhaps there should be a change. You’re biased—and the dissenters don’t fear you enough to follow your rules. Make a situation that will force compliance.”

Oh, so that’s what it feels like to have the searing glare of powerful supernaturals on you.

“She’s not wrong,” Dominic offered, but I couldn’t gauge how he felt. Was this a concession he made so I would help return the prisoners, or did he approve of the changes I proposed?

“You put her up to this!” Madeline snapped.

He held his hands up. “I assure you I didn’t, but she sees what I’ve been telling you all along. Your leniency has led to this coup attempt. They see you as feckless. To be frank, you have been. I’m not. The threat of my reprisal and them being taken to the Underworld is a far better deterrent. I have an army. Return to the old ways, lift my restriction. I guarantee you won’t have as many situations to clean up. Nor such casual slipups.”

I didn’t say that. The old ways seemed really violent with harsh penalties. There had to be a middle ground. But perhaps harshness was needed right now.

I shrugged. “I don’t care how it’s done—I just want it done.” Sounding more callous than intended, I said, “I don’t want us to be victims of your whims. We shouldn’t have to suffer for your failures. If Dominic’s involvement promotes better compliance and protects us, then do what you must.”

Dominic nodded and looked to the members of the Conventicle, who didn’t seem sold on the idea.

Madeline bristled. “So your sister can return to her reign of terror for the most minor offences.”

“No, that rule will stand. My sister will have no jurisdiction.”

They continued to debate, becoming hostile at times. I remained silent. Nearly an hour later they had come to some resolution, but contention remained in the air and amplified when Madeline retrieved a piece of illuminated paper.

“Do I have your permission to make the changes?” she asked the Conventicle.

They nodded, and she passed the paper around, each individual placing a blood-pricked finger on it. With a swipe of her hand over it, the paper was erased. Feeling like I’d been pulled into a gothic version of Fantasia, I watched a magic-controlled pen scroll over the paper, scribbling out the new terms. I’d made this happen. Flushed with pride, I realized that in a room full of powerful supernaturals, I had prevailed. One point for Team Human.

Madeline was smug as she negotiated going to the Underworld to watch the spell casting, whereas Dominic still hadn’t made it known how he felt about the changes. Was he indifferent, or aware that he now had more responsibilities and that the actions of the supernaturals fell on him? Instead of guarding the worst of them, he’d be responsible for holding all rulebreakers accountable.

Madeline’s response to the estate was more subdued than mine. She gave it a sweeping look and followed behind Dominic as he entered the house, with the same greeting he’d received on my first visit. The guards lined the walkway, and as soon as she was through the door, two flanked Madeline.

“What the hell?” She halted. “What is happening?”

“Go with them, we’ll be with you in a moment,” Dominic said in a level, neutral tone. She seemed just as confused as I was when Dominic took me by the elbow, guiding me down a hallway that I had missed. Or perhaps it hadn’t been visible. The pitch-black hall made it impossible to see what was in front of me. A faint hint of sulfur and smoke permeated the space. Magic pulsed off Dominic at an erratic pace.

“Dominic,” I whispered. He turned to me. His eyes glowed. Roaring amber and bright gold like an active flame held my gaze until I pulled my eyes from his. He threw open a door to reveal more darkness. My heart pounded. Interrogation. Torture. The air was thick with his emotions and my fear.

“I need lights,” I told him.

“You don’t need light, I’m right here.” Heat wafted off him.

“Lights,” I demanded.

He held a ball of fire in the palms of his hands.

“Little Luna,” he whispered.

“Oversized Dominic,” I shot back. No alliteration, but I made my point as I split my attention between looking at the two sources of light—his eyes and the fire in his hands. But the fire garnered the bulk of my attention. I took slow, cleansing breaths, hoping to calm my racing heart. He squelched the fire, making the room dark again.

A chuckle reverberated in his chest.

He blinked, eyes muted. When he whispered a spell, the warmth of his breath breezing against my lips made me painfully aware of how close he was to me. Embers of light were floating around us, enough for me to see his face. He tilted his head, dark amusement playing over his face.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” he asked softly.

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