Page 84 of Magic of the Damned

How does that transaction go? “Hey, want to work for me in the underworld?” “The underworld? Sure.”

Some variation of that did in fact take place, along with them agreeing to have their minds altered once they left. What predicament would I need to be in to agree to such a thing? Perhaps it wasn’t seen that way but rather as a new adventure.

The chef’s eyes quickly matched the disconcerted expression she gave me. It had her hauling to what I guessed was another pantry, or maybe an area where they prepared the food. The kitchen was so tidy, it didn’t appear as if a great deal of preparation took place there.

Despite the home’s exquisite beauty, exorbitant décor, expensive art, luxurious natural stones, and beautiful library with its first-edition books casually displayed, the place never seemed pretentious. Even when guards greeted Dominic upon my initial arrival, it hadn’t seemed ostentatious. A person dressed in a modern chef’s coat, black pants, and hat seemed to take it to that level, putting the grandness of the home in perspective.

Once we had our plates, we sat at the kitchen table, where I had a view of the garden and the strange midnight-color flowers that managed to be both disturbing and intriguing.

Anand picked at his food, slowly looking over the room, his frenetic energy a distraction as I attempted to eat.

“Where’s Dominic?”

“With his father.” His curt tone was laced with finality of the topic, but my heightened curiosity had me ignoring it. There were too many questions that needed answers.

“Have you spoken with Dominic today?”

“Briefly.”

It was becoming increasingly frustrating that I couldn’t gather anything from Anand’s expression or body language. An indecipherable slate. Did he know about what Dominic discovered? If he didn’t, I didn’t want to bring it up because I wasn’t sure what it meant for me. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking of all the warnings Helena, out of spite, had revealed about Dominic. He was ruthless when he needed to be. He’d screw you and then kill you without a second thought. I remembered the look on her face when she revealed that. And that he hadn’t denied it. I wanted to invalidate it because of the source, but Helena probably knew her brother better than anyone.

Fear crept over me.

“Will I meet…”

I let my words drift off, waiting for Anand to provide a title for Dominic’s father. I’d given him the designation of Lord of the Underworld in my mind but wanted confirmation. How would I address him? Dominic was the Prince of the Underworld, so it would be fitting that his father would be the king. Anand continued eating, ignoring the pointed opening for an answer.

“Anand.” Tumultuous dark eyes, a stark contrast to his serene beauty, snapped up from his food to peer at me.

“Yes?”

“Will I meet the…”

“Lord.” He sighed. “He is the Lord of the Underworld and I don’t know if you’ll meet him. If you do, it’s doubtful it will be the pleasure you seem to think it will be.”

His response made me fall into silence. I ate, my thoughts plunging into a darker place. Seated across from the enigmatic supernatural who was a miser with any information wasn’t helping. I picked at some fruit, trying to calm myself so that I could think clearly. A spell got me here, so a spell would have to get me out. Not a binding or warding spell. I didn’t know enough about the various spells to know which ones might help. Dominic said that Peter had enough body conduits to do various spells, and it wasn’t sitting well with me that he’d hidden my birthmark. It was such an odd thing to do.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Anand suggested, breaking into my thoughts.

I jumped at the chance. I wanted to explore more of the underworld, but I also hoped it would help me focus, spark more ideas. Following him out the door, I had to double my steps to keep up. Noticing my struggle, he slowed. He usually moved with a fluid grace, long strides and quick movements. The challenge of having to change his rhythm was apparent, his gait becoming mechanical and lumbering. We walked past the garden, through a pathway of heavily populated poplars that nearly obscured everything behind it.

“Is it just the palace here?”

“Palace?”

Oh, are we pretending this isn’t a mini palace? Okay, I’ll play your game. “House. Is this the only home here? Are there others who reside in the underworld other than the humans and the guests downstairs?”

The question quirked his lips into a smile. “Guests. You mean unrepentant ruthless prisoners housed in the Perils,” he corrected, amusement brightening his face.

The light sound of his laughter relaxed me. “The ruthless scallywags?”

“You are a peculiar human, aren’t you?”

His head tilted toward me as if he expected an answer. How does one answer an inquiry about their weirdness?

“I’m just curious.” I was also trying to be considerate of any feelings he may have, as he was the child of a person imprisoned in the Perils.

“This is the last stop for them. No hope for parole or reconsideration of their sentences.”

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