Page 97 of Magic of the Damned

I wasn’t nostalgic enough to relive the bittersweet tears I’d shed reading it. Instead, I decided on falling into N. K. Jemisin’s world of The Broken Earth. But sleep had other ideas.

CHAPTER 8

Iawoke, covered by a heavy blanket, the book next to me, and fully aware of Dominic’s presence. It couldn’t be ignored. He’d repositioned the desk chair just a few inches from me. His turbulent energy was chasing away the calmness of the room.

“You didn’t come to bed last night.”

The underworld’s odd light didn’t ebb in from the small window. The room was lit by the flicker of golden radiance from Dominic’s magic and the transfixing glow that dwelled in his amber eyes in varying degrees. It was muted now, a hint, and they were intensely focused on me.

“I didn’t want to be around you,” I blurted before I could tamp down my curt admission. I kept being used as a pawn in his world, first by Peter and now by the Lord of the Underworld. Peter needed me alive. Areleus didn’t.

He grunted. If my words bothered him, nothing about his expression hinted that it did.

“Your father was going to kill me,” I said, my voice quivering. It was achingly difficult trying to ignore the phantom touch of the lord’s claws pressed into my stomach, to not replay his cold venomous words over and over.

“That is who he is,” he asserted, emotionless. I detected the undisclosed part as well. That’s the way they are.

“Are you like that?” I asked, the need for real answers overriding my fear of knowing just how vicious he could be.

“Sometimes.” Without any inflection in his voice, I couldn’t determine if it was a source of shame or pride.

“Because it’s necessary or you choose to be?”

“Violence and cruelty are necessary in this world, Luna. It is unfortunate that he sees you as a bargaining tool,” he said.

“Unfortunate for you,” I barked. I needed some form of emotion. His lack of passion infuriated and scared me. I was locked in the underworld with them, and it didn’t seem like I had any allies. My chances of survival were whittling away if I didn’t at least have Dominic.

“Do you want me to leave?” It seemed more like a challenge than a question.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. He closed his eyes and took away the magical ebbs of light, plunging the room into darkness.

“I need light,” I told him. My request was left unanswered so we sat in darkness, the tension thick between us, the silence heavy with hostility.

“My father’s right,” he whispered, sparking an urge in me to run. The air changed, becoming heavy and uncomfortable. Toxic energy slithered over my skin, and I tried to determine if it was subtle magic or the obvious animosity between us.

“I could end this right now, break the vessel.” His hand created a gentle gird around my neck that could easily become the death of me. His dagger claws could sever the vessels in my neck in an instant. My heart thrashed so hard, he had to have heard it. I stilled and closed my eyes. It wasn’t as if I could see it coming. Do anything about it. Helplessness felt horrible. No part of me could let that define me or the situation, despite all evidence to the contrary. My fingers crawled toward the book that I’d fallen asleep with. Could I strike him hard enough to give me the advantage?

He whispered my name. It carried in the room, something desperate and conflicted in the strain of that one word.

A soft light glowed between us. Dominic looked contemplative as his hand rested on my neck. As if he was looking for the inspiration to perform the execution.

“Dominicus?” I whispered.

“Don’t call me that,” he demanded. A wrathful blaze ignited in his eyes, then faded into a depthless darkness. I swallowed at his palpable warring emotions.

Dominic’s hands moved to my jawline. At a gentle rhythm, his thumb ran along it, then swept across my lips. As quickly as he was near me, he was gone, leaving me with even more questions.

I fumbled around the room, looking for a light. Once I found it, I turned it on, spilling much needed light into the room. I folded the blanket and returned the book to the table before reluctantly heading for Dominic’s bedroom to get dressed. Staying away from him wasn’t really an option, and I was so unsettled by not having a definitive answer. Could I trust Dominic with my life? That question dominated all the many thoughts, inquiries, and tactics in my mind.

Before I left the library, I found Jasper, who was busying himself dusting and wiping down books, probably as an excuse to distance himself from the mercurial Dominic. I waved goodbye to him and thanked him for his hospitality. Jasper responded with a nod and bringing his hand to his chest. I wasn’t sure if it meant his pleasure or that he enjoyed my company, but it was a welcomed response.

Making my way to Dominic’s room was a slog. I was on edge, fearful that I’d run into the lord or the magically restored Helena. Despite my determination to get more answers from Dominic, I wasn’t enthusiastic about seeing him, either.

His struggle was real and so was his disappointment at his inability to choose the simplest resolution to their problem. Dominic’s curiosity might be his Achilles heel and my guaranteed safety. Getting rid of me might prevent him from learning more about my purpose and what the vessel was capable of, but it would free them and prevent Peter from ever using me again.

As I eased the door open, I could see Dominic on the sofa, legs spread. Like his presence, taking up far too much space. Nothing about his mien felt approachable, nor did it feel like the time to talk. The conflict had placed a rigid crease between his brows. With each step I made toward the bedroom to get to the shower, I could feel his eyes on me. Hard and penetrating.

“I want you alive, Luna,” he whispered. Was that all I was going to get from the embattled Dominic? I needed more, but nothing about him at that moment showed I’d get it.

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