Dominic's Nemesis

by D. Alyce Domain

  Dom felt a ghastly sharp pain in his right eye before she allowed him to collapse out of her control onto the floor. The triangular tip of the knife cracked the delicate bones of his eye-socket. He screamed in agony as his vision died in that eye, tasting the blood that ran down the side of his face and over his lips.

  “DOM!” Cael started for him.

  “Don’t. You cannot help me.”

  Cael halted at his words. “Tell me what to do then.”

  The blade dislodged a short distance preparing to strike again. His mother hadn’t moved from her position.

  “Find…Grey…son.” He shimmered back to the astral, narrowing escaping a second jab. The stabbing pain magnified to nightmarish intensity, skewing his mind into a silent scream. Eons pasted before his thoughts could coalesce and block out the agony. When he was able to bear it with some level of finesse, the first thing he noticed was Cael once again approaching…with Stephan and Ethan in tow. Bloody Hell, what did they aim to do? Cael and Stephan didn’t realize what they were up against, but dammit Ethan should know better!

  He could not let her hurt them. He shimmered in but did not uncloak himself. The haze of pain cleared, and his thoughts sharpened. Invisibility would make him a more difficult target. She might get in a few good jabs, but if she couldn’t locate him she wouldn’t be able to immobilize him again. Anything to keep her focus away from his brothers.

  The knife hovered mid-air between the ceiling and floor, along with its mistress, keen and ready to strike. Lillian stalked with the cold, predatory stance of a cobra. Her eyes were black pits with no iris. Her elegant neck moved in trance-like undulations.

  Ethan’s gaze riveted to the spill of crimson below her on the floor. “You said it wasn’t that serious.”

  “I said it was fixable.” Cael tossed over his shoulder, before addressing Stephan. “Are you sure you can handle this?”

  “Why ask questions you already know the answer to.” He replied.

  Cael turned back to his older brother. “Ethan-”

  “If we don’t do something, she’ll kill him.” Ethan pointed out. “With that wound, how long do you think he can stay in the astral realm? If he passes out—”

  “Ethan’s right.” The blade stabbed out into the air missing his good eye, but slicing the lid open. More pain, so much pain… Dominic dipped and dodged, the bloody mess making it difficult to see even out of his good eye.

  “Dom, are you all right?” Ethan aimed at him.

  “Fine.” The tip of the blade nicked his shoulder that time.

  “Keep still you fiend!”

  Stephan stepped forward wordlessly, brandishing a hand out front.

  “Be ready.” Cael advised.

  A wave of heat rolled over the room. The candles adorning the Pentagram liquefied into five puddles of gooey wax. The next instant flames burst forth, sending trails sprawling in all directions. Most so weak and aimless that they winkled out within seconds. The strongest strain, a scarlet-yellow plume, ran across the floor like a swift-fleeing rodent and connected the empty space between the pentagram’s points, creating a circular wall of flames.

  Lillian toppled off her throne of air. The knife, too, clattered to the floor. Dom wiped the veil of blood from his eye and watched with half-vision while his mother shrieked and writhed. She darted this way and that. The blazing heat swayed whichever way she went, a taunting shadow licking at her flesh. She screamed an inhuman howl of madness, clawing at herself in a frenzy to elude the flames.

  “Astral now!” Ethan ordered. “We think it’s the chanting that strengthens the pentagram, creating the barrier.”

  Self-preservation propelled him back onto the astral plane. Agony dogged him even the short time required to close the distance between him and his brothers. He materialized only semi-conscious behind Ethan, just short of the chamber door.

  “Leave…now. Circle broken.” One hand over his ruined eye, he fumbled for the doorknob, his free hand slick with blood from his good eye. It took him several tries before Cael reached around him.

  Cael caught him under his shoulders, steadying him. “Stephan, we’re leaving.”

  “Go!”

  “Remember, she has to breathe.” Ethan emphasized. “For all we know if she dies, so does Miss Prescott.”

  “Be quick. Without Eden, I cannot keep it level for very long.”

  Chapter 43

  The library still lay in chaos. A charred pile of bricks where the fireplace once stood, blackened half-melted glass shards littered the floor on one side of the room. Someone had covered the hole where the window had been with a tarp.

  “Stop. Ethan, do it now.” Weak but determined, Dom shook off Cael’s steadying arm and stumbled to the ash-covered sofa and sat. “Who’s idea was it anyway to pit Stephan against her?”

  “His, and for what it’s worth, we don’t like it anymore than you do.” Cael stated as he moved aside to let Ethan by. “We couldn’t think of another way. Stephan’s the only one of us with an aggressive gift.”

  Dom dropped his hand and let Ethan exam the damage. He rested his head against the back rim of the couch and breathed easier as the soothing waves of Ethan’s gift swept over his injuries. “Let us hope she doesn’t gather her wits enough to thwart him before we return with Greyson.” A blurry image began to flicker in his injured eye. He tried to raise his head only to be pushed back down. “Ethan?”

  “Almost done, lie still.”

  “You cannot be serious.” Cael stared at Dominic incredulously. “You’re too weak to shimmer two and then shimmer back three. Plus, how do we even know Greyson can help?”

  “I don’t bloody know!” Dom snapped back. “You’re the one who’s been extolling his praises as the foremost expert on adeptness and psychological science.”

  “That was before our deranged mother possessed your fiancée’s body and started knife-wielding from beyond the grave.” Cael returned dryly.

  Just then there came a discreet knock on the crumbling shards of wood still passing for a door.

  “What?!” Dom called out.

  He heard several planks fall to the floor. “Ahem, Master Ambrosi forgive me for disturbing you. A guest has just arrived. I was obliged to-”

  “Get rid of whoever it is.” Dominic waved a hand, the torn bloody sleeve of his nightshirt dangling off his forearm.

  “That was my first inclination sir, but-”

  “Hell and damnation, Renfred!” His head snapped up despite Ethan’s protest. The butler had stuck his ancient face just within the threshold. He could make out enough to know that Renfred was his usual portrait of refined dignity. Dominic cringed at the thought of his own appearance. “Do I look like I can spare a moment to entertain just now?”

  “Of course not, sir, and I do hope the injury is nothing serious, but your brother insisted.” He stood aside to reveal someone standing behind him.

  “My—-what?!” A towering blur appeared where Renfred had been. “Ethan, my eyes—”

  “Should clear in just a moment.”

  “Where are his spectacles?”

  That voice.

  “Gabriel?” The next instant he found himself staring at Muse resting in the crook of his brother’s elbow, and the falcon perched over his right shoulder. “What the devil are you doing here? You’re supposed to be comatose in Italy.”

  “Nice to see you, too, Dominic.” Gabriel quipped as he let the cat down and tilted his head to the bird. The falcon gave a quarrelsome squawk. “Gideon is being difficult. I am not at all certain he will grace us with his presence. But then, you know how he is about carriages.”

  “Lillian’s back.” Dominic stated baldly.

  “Yes, I know.” The taller man did not flinch. “I am relieved that her attempt on your life was unsuccessful. We had hoped to arrive in time to prevent it, but no matter, all is well.”

  “Not quite. Didn’t you see—”

  “I saw nothing beyond your death. It was a nightmare I could n
ot shake off until recently. By the by, where is Stephan? I had thought to see him while we were here.”

  “They will have to fill you in. Enough Ethan.” Dominic batted the doctor away, stood and held his arm for the falcon. The bird alit his shoulder instead. “Gideon will accompany me. That way I’ll only have to shimmer two back. Is that an acceptable alternative, Cael?”

  “I suppose it’ll have to be.”

  “For propriety’s sake, at least don a dressing gown before you go.”

  Only Ethan would be concerned with decorum at such a moment. Dominic accepted the gown the doctor removed from his own shoulders, delaying just long enough to shove his arms in the sleeves. The falcon protested being upset.

  “Simmer down, we’re going.”

  * * *

  Greyson’s essence wasn’t difficult to locate. He remembered it well from his one glimpse. Thankfully, the essence seemed fairly isolated, although Dom noted that there was an unusual density of souls in the not-so-immediate vicinity…more than could be explained away as servants. No one man, living alone, would require so numerous a staff as this.

  He slid off the astral in what appeared to be a gentleman’s dressing room. Light shone in from the partially opened door. The falcon vacated his shoulder. Dom felt rather than saw his brother’s transformation.

  “Nice of you to join me, Gideon.”

  “Dom, this room is the size of a coffin.”

  “We will not be here long.” He inclined his head to the neatly hung rack of shirts and trousers to their right. “It might make our convincing him to come back with us easier if you were wearing more than a fig leaf.”

  “Why do we need him?” The rustle of clothing mingled with his words.

  “We have to evict Lillian from Eden’s body before she does irreparable damage. Cael thinks he could help.” Dominic took the opportunity to creep closer to the adjoining door while he waited for the rustling to stop.

  “Are you suggesting an… exorcism?”

  Being reminded of the countless tortures he endured in the name of the process, he too flinched away from the idea. “If Greyson cannot offer an enlightened approach I don’t see any alternative.”

  The gentleman in question did not react in the shocked manner Dominic had expect at being confronted with two uninvited guests breaching the sanity of his private chambers.

  Greyson sat propped up in a massive four-poster bed of dyed-black wood. He calmly put aside the volume in his lap and stood. “Conte Ambrosi, this is a surprise.” The professor took in the second man with a cursory glance. “I don’t believe we have met.”

  “Uh, this is Gideon–” Dominic supposed he ought to at least solicit his willingness before he sank to kidnapping. “My brother. Forgive me, but we haven’t the time for pleasantries. There is a situation that requires your assistance. Help me and I will grant you the audience you requested.”

  “And if I choose not to?”

  “I’ll have to insist.” Gideon stepped forward. The floor-skirting grey robe he’d chosen only heightened his sinister hint of violence.

  The professor seemed to take the threat in stride. “Let me just get dressed and we’ll take my carriage.”

  “No time for carriages and fancy dress. As my brother explained, time is in limited supply. You will accompany us, now.”

  Dom did not miss Gideon’s shudder at the mention of a carriage.

  “Very well then. Just let me collect my journals and we’ll be off.” The professor waved away Gideon’s protest with an impatient hand, and strolled forth. “They are imperative if your problem is of a psychic nature. It’s where I document the whole of my knowledge and research. An encyclopedia of psychic phenomena, if you will.”

  Much too easy. Dominic had to wonder at his willingness. “You’re not even curious how we plan to transport you or how we managed to elude your vast staff to gain entry to your bedchamber. “

  “I won’t be coy. I know that you are adept…and I suspect that it runs in the family.” He eyed Gideon warily, as he came to a small writing desk situated in the corner. “That is why I wished to speak with you. I have committed to a great task, part of which includes identifying and classifying psychic abilities and their associated cognitive abnormalities. When I’m done, there will be a taxonomic and nomenclature system for the science of psionics, a factual guide to the—”

  Dominic looked to the three leather-bound tomes Greyson collected from the desktop. “Is that them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  It was a testament to his stubbornness that he did not collapse when the threesome materialized, to his surprise, outside his bedchamber door. Gideon didn’t need to be shielded because unlike other animals, he possessed a soul even as the falcon, so piggybacking him was effortless. It was the energy he’d extended masking Greyson’s books that had drained him. Shielding inanimate objects always proved difficult.

  Cael and Ethan rushed at him. The falcon squawked testily and flew to join Muse at Gabriel’s side.

  “That’s it. No more astraling tonight.” Ethan declared.

  “Where is Gideon?” Greyson looked around, tensing at the site of Gabriel several yards away. He fumbled with the books in his hands, trying to open one whilst holding on to the other two. “How did he…Yes, of course, I have documented several cases-”

  “Gideon’s mood has not improved.” Gabriel lifted a hand to accommodate the bird, before acknowledging the newcomer. “I am Gabriel. Though we are identical, people do not often confuse us. Since we have only just met I will overlook it.”

  “I am Professor Greyson.” Greyson returned, bewildered and still battling to keep hold of all three books. “Uh, forgive me. I did not realize there were two of you…that you were twins, I mean. I meant no offense.”

  The door just beyond them bulged out, rending the air with a sharp popping noise.

  “What is that?” The professor stumbled away from the buckling wood, loosing his grip on two of the volumes.

  “We’re out of time.” Cael’s pleading gaze alternated from Dominic to the professor. “We have to get him out of there.”

  “Who’s in there?” Greyson asked no one in particular.

  “Stephan. He has manifested the ability to manipulate fire with his mind.”

  “Pyrokenesis.” Greyson’s face lit up like a child at Christmastime as he turned to eye the rending shards flaking off the doorjamb. “Firestarters are extremely rare…and very volatile. Pyrokenesis is one of several emotion-linked abilities. Emotion-linked abilities are much less psychologically damaging and less draining. Most pyrokinetics do not even—”

  Dominic brought him up short. “That’s all very interesting, Professor Greyson, but how do we help him control it?”

  “Right, yes.” He redirected his attentions to the remaining tome in his hands. “Well, it has been my observation that the older a person is at manifestation, the more difficult the ability is to direct. Well-adjusted adepts manifest at or even before puberty. At what age would you say your bother Stephan manifest?”

  “Two and twenty.”

  “Oh dear…I had not thought it so late as that.” He dropped the volume he held and instead picked up one from the floor, flipping through it. “Having met only one firestarter in this lifetime, I must confess my knowledge is limited on the subject. Let’s see, according to the notes I made, he shouldn’t restrain the impulse. In this case, it caused a dangerous build-up of pressure…to explosive proportions. The key element to her control was balance. She described it as ‘a boomerang cast at just the right angle so that it returns to it’s bearer with a neat catch’…if that makes any sense to you.”

  “No,” Cael stepped nearer the chamber door. “But, Stephan will probably know what you mean. Stephen! Can you hear me?! Dom…”

  “I’ll astral.” He did not wait for the inevitable protest from Ethan.

  The scene mimicked the one in the library the day before
. Both windows were reduced to charred holes with bits of shattered glass strewn on the sill and beyond. The flames were no longer confided to the ring imprisoning their mother, but engulfed the room entirely. He couldn’t see what had become of Lillian, couldn’t see anything with the intense heat crawling along his skin, burning his lashes and brows, drying out his eyes. Only blind luck or perhaps Stephan’s quick instincts drew him to a flame-retardant spot on the warm stone floor. He closed his eyes against the heat, and breathed the dragon’s breath through his mouth to spare his nasal passage a certain scorching.

  “Stephan, don’t fight it! Greyson says the more you restrain your ability the more it slips beyond your control. Let go and it will peak and snap back to you.” He swiveled this way and that, not sure of his brother’s exact location in the room. His voice grew more hoarse with each syllable.

  “Stephan!” A deep-throated cough mangled his next words. He wondered if Stephan could even comprehend him. “Don’t fight…Can’t yooo…feel…growing wilder? Meant to be thrown…like fishing… reeled back in…”

  A blinding flash of heat walloped him like a boxer’s fist, knocking him backward. His legs buckled as Dante’s inferno blazed around him, a teeming mob on the verge of violence.

  Chapter 44

  “Are you alright?” Cael asked, while the twins hovered, Gideon shirtless.

  Ethan answered for him. “He’s fine. The brows and lashes will grow back.”

  Stephan, bare-assed and sheepish, apologized as he melted back into the darkness. “Sorry, Dom.”

  He sat up to find himself covered with a blanket atop the pianoforte in the music room. The moon beamed down soft shadowy light, which partially illuminated the room in a broad central circle, leaving the corners steeped in darkness. Greyson stood on the opposite end of the pianoforte thumbing through one of his volumes.

  “Good, you’re awake.” The professor did not look up as he spoke. “We’ll need the six of you if this is going to work.”