Page 93 of Magic of the Damned

“I’m not asking you to be that way with everybody. Just me,” I said.

He considered it for a moment, the reluctance apparent. He’d taken me out of the human category, so I was unwillingly an other.

“I don’t belong here,” I reminded him softly. He swallowed the distance between us, his gaze dropping to my lips.

I couldn’t determine if the low growl was acceptance or simply acknowledgment.

“Luna, Luna, Luna.” The smokey rasp coursed through me. Magic laced around me, tugging me closer to him. The warmth of his breath wisped over my lips.

I rolled my eyes. “More spells?”

Leaning in closer, his lips brushed lightly over mine, his tongue teasing my bottom lip. He looked around. “Let’s go to the room,” he suggested softly.

My libido had taken over, and the only thing I could think of was seeing Dominic’s body again, his expert touch, and him. Even the possibility of more of his magic touching, the heat of it, ran through my mind. He offered none of it. Once the door closed, his appearance was grave.

“You’re a Scaphium,” he revealed in a somber whisper. “A vessel.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re a vessel for magic.”

“Human,” I blurted in defense, clinging to it for all it was worth. That I wasn’t just an inanimate object in a human shell, used as a vessel. I needed to have more. “I don’t have magic,” I continued, defending my human existence. “Nor can I hold it.” I distinctly remembered the torturous feel of Madeline’s magic when I borrowed it.

“Exactly, you are a vessel for magic. One of the Tenebras Obducit imbued you with their magic. Peter either knew already or discovered it, because he’s been using you for your intended purpose. A well for their magic.”

It all fell into place. Peter in the bookstore constantly, watching me, his seemingly innocuous questioning. He knew what I was and didn’t want me out of his sight. Or maybe he suspected, and using me to release the prisoners was the confirmation he needed.

“So, what do I do now?” I asked.

Dominic looked as conflicted as I felt. I was the problem: a vessel being used by Peter. Get rid of me and the magic disappeared. The dilemma was clear on his face. I wasn’t just imprisoning him, I was a well of magic that Peter could return to at his discretion. The quandary was heavy on Dominic’s finely carved features.

“I need a shower,” I rushed out, heading toward the bathroom to give us both a well-needed break. Although I had no idea what resolution I’d be met with when I returned.

Showered, I blow-dried my hair and took extra time putting curls in it using the curling wand left for me in the room. Along with a few glosses and three different types of liners and mascara. Ignoring the liners, I did give my lashes a few swipes with the applicator and opted for the lip butter instead of the glosses. An excuse for the time I’d spent in there trying to devise a plan. But in the end, all I had was the skill of coercion. They needed me alive to see what more I could be used for. Instead of a weapon being used against them, perhaps I could be of use to them. That’s all I had, because escaping and hiding wasn’t an option. Z had my scent and would find me without any problem. If I dared to go outside, what would the shades do to me? The last ten minutes in the bathroom were spent cursing the situation, Peter, and the Dark Caster who did this to me, for putting me in this situation.

I returned to the sitting area to find Dominic pacing the length of the sitting room.

“Feel better?”

My motives behind the shower weren’t as clandestine as I thought.

“I feel clean.” Better was no longer in my grasp.

Dominic gave me a long measuring look. “This world doesn’t scare you, does it?” he asked, the echo of curiosity replaced by intrigue.

My bravado must be more convincing than I thought. “Everything about this world scares me. A place where everyone is a tactician so they can acquire more power just so they can live life without consequences. People speak openly about murdering me, and I don’t seem to have an identity other than being ‘your human.’”

Something salacious threaded through his smirk. He didn’t have a problem with me being his human. He moistened his lips and I was reminded of last night.

“I’m not fearless. I have no option other than to do what is necessary to come out of this alive. And with everything you revealed, I am scared,” I admitted.

“My position hasn’t changed, Luna. I want to find the root of it. What your existence means. Could you be of use to me? One tool I’d love to have is the ability to weave spells. Could you be the answer to me doing it?”

“You’re able to do so much with your magic, why is spell weaving something you need?”

“What I do is chip away at the various spells in a weave. It’s complicated, time consuming, and not very efficient. Weaving spells would allow me to do more with a single spell.” He was calculating the possibilities of becoming stronger than he was already. Maybe I wasn’t scared of his world, just not able to be the person I needed to be to survive in it.

He inched in closer to me. “Besides, I don’t like Peter having any claim on you. None.” The possession in his statement was apparent. His. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. He kissed me, fingers lacing through my hair, the other hand sliding under my shirt, kneading at my skin. His erection pressed against me. I tugged his shirt from his pants, quickly unbuttoning it. When there was a knock at the door, we ignored it. Dominic shrugged off the unbuttoned shirt, pulling away from me long enough to yank my shirt off. His lips trailed from mine down to my neck, the swell of my breasts. Slipping my bra off, he cupped them, his tongue languidly moving over my nipples that hardened at his attention. I wanted him. All of him. And I responded accordingly, a throaty moan escaping as he teased them.

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