Page 80 of Magic of the Damned

His crisp gaze lingered on me. Malice pulsed in his eyes and in a draw of breath, he was in front of me, his hand gently lacing through my hair. Heat from his body snaked around me. The intensity of his gaze as they held mine… a raging inferno lived in it. The previous strands of hair he’d taken from me were coiled around his finger.

“May I?” The heat in his voice seemed to be asking about more than just follicles for a spell.

“Yeah,” I whispered in a low rasp.

“Thank you, Luna.” The proximity of his body and primal sensuality that existed in any space he occupied made me think with my hormones instead of with the higher thinking that I desperately needed.

Luna, you’re trying to make a point. Despite my victory, it felt hollow because he’d taken something from this interaction. It showed in his salacious smirk.

“Remember, once you cross it, the ward is disabled, allowing others to get in as well. Stay on this side of the door.”

“This is where I’m staying?”

He nodded. “You’ll be my guest here,” he said. I preferred this politer version of ‘my room is probably the only way to keep my sister from murdering you.’

During the first hour of Dominic’s absence, I made myself familiar with my surroundings. Calling it a bedroom didn’t begin to cover it. Bedrooms didn’t have a kitchen, laundry, and two sitting rooms, one in the anteroom and the other in his bedroom. Sleep didn’t come, so I curled up on the large circular chair in the bedroom with a book I’d found on the bookshelf. I’d perused several spellbooks; there was another that looked like a historical account of the supernatural world. I ignored the spellbooks. The night— No, the past few weeks had made me apprehensive about dealing with spellbooks. The account didn’t offer anything more than what Dominic had already shared. It did give me a little more insight as to why Anand preferred living in the underworld to living among the others, which was that interspecies were often regarded poorly. If mixed with a human, they were viewed as a lesser being, their power diminished: for example, a human-shifter couldn’t shift but retained some enhanced abilities. The few that were able to shift couldn’t maintain the form long enough for it to be any use to them. They were never allowed to be part of a pack or pride. If the half-shifter was the result of the woman in the pack becoming pregnant, she was given the choice to abandon her child to the father or leave. The father was not given the option and was cast out.

Children who were human-witch combination were rare because witches valued protection of the strength of their magic over everything. Although a witch wasn’t thrown out of their coven for the violation, their offspring was forbidden to mate with another witch. The diluted bloodline ended with their child. Because human-witch children only presented with a nominal level of magic, the magic line was quickly diluted.

Vampires couldn’t have children, losing their ability to procreate once they were changed. The vampires they sired were considered their children.

Studying the book, I couldn’t help but think of Anand, a hybrid therefore considered weak and a demonstration of a weakened bloodline. Inconsequential. I’d seen Anand’s abilities. There wasn’t anything weak or inconsequential about him. His stealth, ability to go undetected in any environment, heightened senses, and lightning-fast reflexes, which I was sure was attributed to his magic, were not what was generally believed.

What happened to supernaturals who contradicted established beliefs? Was it his choice to live in the underworld to seek refuge among those who wouldn’t judge him or didn’t care about those things? But whatever Anand’s abilities were, I doubted they exceeded Helena’s and Dominic’s.

The historical accounts of the supernaturals in reality were a drastic contrast to the diluted fantastical view found in the Discovery of Magic that Reginald had given me. But anything could be viewed that way when the quest for power, cruelty, politics, and violence was removed.

I didn’t need any reminders, but it was the nudge into action I needed. I didn’t want to live in the underworld. It was an unlikely option anyway. If they didn’t find a way to break the spell and free themselves and taking my life was the prevailing option, I wouldn’t survive my stay.

How long did I have before their patience grew thin?

Despite fixating on the metaphorical ticking clock, I managed to fall asleep after setting aside the supernatural history book and attempting to read Le Comte de Monte-Cristo, putting my infrequently used French to use. Five pages in, I realized why it was infrequently used: I wasn’t good at it. Trading it in for the English translation, The Count of Monte Cristo, I slipped into an uneasy sleep.

Startled awake by a hard knock on the door, I quickly came to my feet and answered the door, book clutched to my chest. Dominic, carrying two bags, was waiting.

“You need to let me in.”

“Come in,” I said, stepping aside.

His eyes dropped to the door. Rust and purple waves burst across the threshold before pushing him back. It was comforting to see the ward’s effectiveness. When I stepped over the threshold, the pressure of the ward gripped my leg before releasing it. Dominic, now free to enter, came in and placed the bags on the trunk-style desk, which had become my favorite item in the room. Surrounded by clean lines, sterile neutral colors, and minimalist décor, I appreciated the whimsy of buckles on a desk. They worked and I was sure there was a story behind it that I was interested to learn.

“Clothing and essentials,” he told me as he opened the larger bag, revealing its contents.

“Thank you. There are stores here?”

He shook his head. “We keep supplies for those who work here. And guests.”

“How often do you all have guests?”

The underworld didn’t seem like a popular trip destination. But before the transfer of duties, Dominic had been the arbiter of punishment for the supernatural world. A hostile situation instigated by his sister had required him to give up that power in order to protect her. The other people who resided in the underworld were those who’d struck a mutually beneficial deal to work there. Once the term of the contract was over, magic would be used to wipe their memories. They wouldn’t remember the nice clothing they were given, the mansion where they resided, the prince they worked for, and all the peculiar things of the underworld that would make them compare and maybe appreciate their own world. Or recall the darkness of this world. A sun that never rose, a sky that was always dim, and a garden with the darkest of plants. No memories of the place devoid of greenery and sunlight so they’d appreciate those things even more upon their return.

I clawed my way from the despair that wanted to creep in and focused on what was in the bag.

Holding a button-down against my body, I looked at him.

Restrained laughter made his lips twitch.

I’d ask Dominic for a belt or scarf that I could tie around the waist so I could wear the shirt as a dress. Certain styles I avoided because they brought attention to my vertical challenges. This shirt wasn’t one of them. Sorting through the various bits of clothing, I found several pairs of leggings, my preferred t-shirts both oversized and fitted, and jeans. There appeared to be enough to last me a little over a week. I hoped there wouldn’t be a need for all of it and that I would soon be back home, coming up with believable excuses to explain my absence to everyone.

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