A Touch of Brimstone (Magic of the Damned Book 1)

by McKenzie Hunter

  “Dominic.” She snapped at him with the sharpness of a mother chastising a child. It left me trying to figure out the dynamics between them. Nailah looked younger, late twenties, early thirties. Dominic appeared to be mid- to late thirties. Despite her initial sharpness, there was a hint of deference in the way she looked at him, a request for understanding and compliance in her expression. The disapproval lingered in her frown.

  There were so many unspoken words and displays of emotions that I went from thinking there was a mentorship-type relationship, emissary, or maybe she was his moral compass and he was rejecting it. There was something else that passed between them. Compassion? Caring? Were they in a relationship? So many things passed between them, it became a rollercoaster ride that I was ready to get off.

  The adage leads us to believe there’s a thin line between love and hate. But there isn’t. They are both intense emotions brought by feelings. Indifference is a thorn in the side. The killer of all things. The snuffing out of the fire in any relationship. Indifference was nowhere to be found in their exchange. If the dagger-sharp looks they exchanged were an indicator, hate seemed to be flickering to ignite. Or at least contempt.

  “Her acquiescence was coaxed,” Nailah pointed out. Coaxed by the man able to manipulate thoughts by looking at them. And moments ago, I was drowning in his eyes.

  Faux relaxation and a feeling of peace. The room’s abatement from poking and prodding me out of the door was an implanted thought, a manipulation.

  Seething, I stood. “We’re done for today and maybe… maybe forever because you’re a venomous snake.” I snatched my bag up and rushed toward the door. It smacked me back into the room. You go to hell, too, I thought, rummaging through my bag for whatever made the room prevent me from leaving. After finding a book, I tossed it, aiming for the table but secretly wishing I put too much power into the throw and that it would hit Dominic.

  Aimless, I stood in the hallway without a strategy for the next step. My day off was meant to be in the Underworld, with the ambitious goal to unravel the spell and never return. With anger and Dominic’s deception raining over me, I just wanted to leave. Dominic wouldn’t take me and I didn’t want to ask.

  Should I search for Anand? Desperation had me calling his name, my voice carrying through the massive hallways.

  Minutes passed with no response from him. I didn’t really expect him to answer. I wasn’t sure he was even in the house. Was the Underworld his home? If so, if he was easily hidden in our small store, could he be found in this ridiculously huge place?

  “Yes?” Anand’s mild voice spoke from behind me. Turning, I found him with one shoulder leaning against the wall, hands shoved in pockets. Disheveled hair, loose-fitting shirt, and jeans that hung low on his waist. He looked confused.

  “Do you live here?” I asked.

  He nodded once. A small confirmation, but the confusion remained.

  “You heard me calling you?” If he had been close, I wanted to know where. Was one of the rooms on this floor his bedroom? I needed to know how to get to him.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Yes.” A flush rose over my cheeks.

  “I was in my room,” he offered, putting me out of my misery.

  “Is your room close?” I nudged my thumb toward the closed rooms I’d passed the other day.

  “No, it’s in the west wing. It took me a while to get here when I heard you call me.” This place was huge enough to have wings and he heard me call him. He was on the other side of the house and: He. Heard. Me. Call. Him. Nope, not terrifying at all.

  His curiosity had turned to irritation. “Luna, what do you want?”

  “Take me home,” I blurted.

  Pushing up from the wall, he appeared reluctant as he looked past me.

  “No,” Dominic responded. “You’ll honor your agreement to stay until tomorrow.” His tone was strident and unyielding, as if he’d made a monumental concession by just letting me leave at all to resume my life.

  My patience was frayed and my tolerance worn thin. Nailah eased out behind Dominic and looked between the two of us, taking in the tension. No matter how I tried to force my breathing to be calm and measured, it came out in short, sharp clips.

  I held Dominic's hard-edged gaze as I marched up to him. “Don’t you ever do that to me again! Do you understand?”

  Dark amusement replaced his hauteur. His smirk reached his eyes as he relaxed into it. “Got it. When you are writhing in pain, I should let you be. Apparently, you enjoy it.” Closing the few inches of space I had left between us, he leaned in. “That’s a very interesting bit of information to know about you.” He moistened his lips. “Perhaps there’s more to you than just your petulance.”

  There was no denying the salacious innuendo. That wasn’t the draw; it was the way his eyes roved over me, taking me in. Raw hunger. I piqued his interest and the darkness that dwelled in the prince.

  “If you don’t move, I’m going to knee you in your prince peas,” I told him through clenched teeth. The challenge in his smirk made me want to act on it, but knowing that guards were just a call away and Anand probably would not tolerate me doing it, I squashed the urge.

  “You know damn well what I’m talking about. You ever manipulate my mind for any reason, I’m done with you and done with helping.” I shoved his chest to give me more space. He didn’t move. It was like pushing a concrete wall.

  Nailah watched our exchange with censure, Anand with curiosity.

  “Of course. Your rules. May they serve your life’s interest well,” he agreed. The devil was in the details and I had missed something; that was evident in Dominic’s face. A tacit agreement had been made and I had missed some critical specifics of it.

  Responding to Nailah softly calling his name, he turned away and strode toward her with the smooth easy confidence worthy of his position in the Underworld and his command among the supernaturals. The comfortable arrogance was likely the root of their resentment and her strained alliance with him as well.

  Several minutes passed in a restless quiet. So much unspoken between them, leading me to wonder about their relationship again. It was strained and it showed.

  His hand slipped to her waist and he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. Was that an apology? An appeal for understanding? The end of an impasse or the acceptance of it?

  Anand’s impassive face offered nothing.

  Dominic whispered something in Nailah’s ear. He was so close to her, and even if his back wasn’t to me, I wouldn’t be able to read his lips. Aware that Anand could probably hear it, I looked to him to see if it prompted a response. Nothing.

  Nailah’s look was more expressive than any words. Disappointment and frustration, but with whom or what remained a mystery.

  “Anand, take me home, please,” Nailah requested, stepping away from Dominic and giving me another sweeping look before turning away without another word. Had Dominic just sent his conscience away, or was it her decision to leave? I needed her tempered presence and didn’t want her to leave.

  Once she left, Dominic turned to me. “Let me show you to the room where you will be staying.”

  There was a moment of internal debate, of trying to forcibly hitch a ride back to my world. Then I heaved a sigh and followed him.

  13

  Calling it a room was an understatement. If it had a kitchen, it could easily be an apartment. Striking in blush and white, the room boasted gorgeous elaborate ceiling moldings and a king-size bed with a beautiful, tufted headboard and aged wood frame. It all seemed far too elegant for me to wear my oversized shirt that paid homage to The Picture of Dorian Gray—which had seemed whimsical and cheeky while packing—and shorts.

  The silk-patterned chaise lounge and a chic flared-arm sofa did nothing to minimize the size of the room. One side of the room was a window, bathing the room in warm light from the garden and providing a spectacular overhead view of crimson and black flowers and a pergola with drawn curtains and
delicate warm lighting giving it a comforting ambiance.

  The bathroom was a relaxing oasis, the light a pale hue, making it seemed candlelit. In a world of perpetual dusk, these people seemed to appreciate light.

  Aware of Dominic watching me, I gave the room just a sweeping look, underappreciating the shower stall with the stacked stone walls and overhead shower that gave the impression of bathing under a waterfall. The free-standing stone tub, I could imagine emerging from and wrapping my body in towels from the warmer, letting all the drama of the day spill from me. That was the point. This wasn’t just a place to lay my head for the night, but a more subtle manipulation. Luring me into complacency.

  Turning, I eyed him with suspicion. He seemed to bask in me being enamored by the room. It had its intended effect. Everything about this room was in diametric opposition to him and the situation. Soothing, warm lights, luxe and inviting furniture, the prospect of a warm shower, and even the picturesque view of the softly lit garden and pergola. Even the faint scent of lavender and chamomile made it difficult to stay enraged, and I desperately wanted to cling to my anger like a toddler gripping their favorite stuffed animal. It would serve me well not to underestimate or become too comfortable with the Prince of the Underworld.

  But his words from earlier kept nagging at me. Had I made things worse, ensured that I wouldn’t survive? I wanted Nailah to tell me my fate hadn’t changed.

  As people emerged from the shadows, placing food on the table in the pergola, I tightened my hold on my bag as if bolting out of the Underworld with it in hand was remotely an option.

  “I thought it would be nice to have dinner in the garden.”

  Really, dinner surrounded by flowers that were a staunch reminder of where I was and who I was with? Well, okay. At least he wasn’t trying to woo me.

  “That would be nice.”

  My easy response drew his attention. His brows lifted and his depthless eyes bored even harder into me. Placing my bag on the dresser, I gave him an affable smile. Make nice with the prince.

  “Things between us do not have to be contentious,” I said.

  “And yet you make it so.”

  You’re making being nice really hard. Slow breaths. Don’t knee the prince.

  “I’m here to help.”

  He scoffed. “You’re here because it’s the pathway to your safety. Let’s not pretend otherwise. It diminishes us both.” His amber eyes danced with fire, and pulling my eyes from them seemed impossible. Was it my imagination or had the room grown hot? It felt sweltering.

  “I want my prisoners returned, I want to stop a war, and I want to counter an insurrection. You play an important role in that. Make no mistake, you are a tool. It’s up to you whether you will be one of use.”

  So that was his less than subtle way of pointing out my role in determining whether I lived or died. I started to point that out, when he swallowed the space between us and pressed his fingers to my lips. “Don’t answer yet. Think about it, Luna, because your actions will determine your fate. It is in your hands.”

  The only thing I could think about was snapping at his finger like a rabid animal. He silenced me. Who does that? My face gave me away every time, and it hadn’t failed this time. The prince removed his finger and turned away and headed for the door.

  “Dinner should be ready in an hour. I trust you won’t have any problem finding your way.”

  He wasn’t wrong. I paid careful attention to everything, mapping out the house and observing the rooms that were kept closed and the ones where the doors were slightly ajar and anything I could glean from my vantage point. If me slowly following Dominic and stopping to get my bearings bothered him, he didn’t voice it.

  * * *

  One hour to dinner. I took advantage of it and put on paper the Venn diagram that had formed in my head of Dominic’s and his sister’s magical abilities after seeing her grow claws. Any information I had to help make sense of this world and better navigate it was important. At this point, no information was too miniscule, especially discovering the magic of the Prince and Princess of the Underworld and how it intersected or aligned with other supernaturals.

  Amoral and possibly sociopathic tendencies seemed to be common to all. Helena and Dominic appeared to possess forms of magic from all groups, so they were inclined toward those behaviors even more. I didn’t care if my bachelor’s in library science didn’t qualify me to make a clinical diagnosis; this was about self-preservation. And as far as I was concerned, I was dealing with people who were even more dangerous because they shared qualities with witches, shifters, and vampires. Off to the side was Nailah, clearly an exception to the rule. Or was she?

  There were holes in my information about Dominic and Helena because I didn’t know the extent of their magical ability compared to other supernaturals. How much could they shift? Could they shift into any animal or where they limited to one animal or species? Did they have magical abilities like the Mors? What were their limitations in zoning or whatever they called their form of teleportation? Hopefully over dinner, I’d get some questions answered. The two most pressing things I needed from Dominic were a promise that my family and friends would be safe and the ability to navigate between this world and mine without an escort, if possible. I had a strong feeling it was possible, and he had led people to believe he’d destroyed all the Trapsens.

  Dominic was waiting in the kitchen. Surprise flashed briefly on his face. He smiled, a genuine smile. That was as dangerous as his magic. Shifting my attention quickly, I looked past him at the garden, letting some of the potency ease away.

  “I’m glad you decided to join me,” he said. The disarming smile had settled nicely on his face and remained as he filled two glasses of wine from the bottle on the counter.

  Would you have left me alone if I hadn’t? Play nice. I simply smiled, took the proffered glass, and walked out of the house toward the garden. Dominic headed down a trail leading away from the food on the table on the patio. My stomach wasn’t thrilled about that. Dinner wasn’t just an information-seeking endeavor but also to mend my tattered relationship with Dominic, negotiate the safety of my family and friends, and lay the groundwork to enter the Underworld unaccompanied. And eat.

  Him steering me through the garden pricked at the defiance in me, but I knew it was just me grappling for some vestige of control.

  His steps slowed to leisurely movements. He was taking in the garden as if appreciating it for the first time. A faint floral fragrance scented the air. The slight breeze that seemed strangely oceanic had me looking around for a pond. There wasn’t one. I gave a side-eye to the man who could create fire. Did he have the same ability with wind and water?

  “Is there ever light here?” I asked, increasing my speed to walk next to him.

  He shook his head, looked around the artificially lit area, and returned his attention to me, canting his head and giving me an evaluating look. “But that’s not where your curiosity lies, is it, Luna? Ask your real questions.” He stopped our stroll to continue looking at me. I had to work on keeping my thoughts from my face. It’s the very reason I refuse to play poker. Bad hand, you will definitely know about it. Great hand and my beam is a sunburst.

  The warm light from the lanterns made his eyes glint. Taking a small sip from my glass, I sorted through the many questions I had.

  “The hardest part is I don’t know how far out of my depth I am. You have one faction that wants to reveal themselves to humans, another that will do anything to keep that from happening, and you’re keeping some horrible people alive because they might be needed in case of a war. It seems like it would be easier to just let them be discovered and let humans get involved. It would take away this burden. Supernaturals would have to fall in line or deal with humans and our military,” I said.

  Being candid had its merits and left no room for ambiguity. I hoped he returned my candor and gave me straight answers.

  He plucked a rose and handed it to me. I took it
and inhaled its scent, using that time to recall what he’d done to me. I wouldn’t be lured into putting my guard down.

  “A vampire can create a family of hundreds in a week. At ten days old, a well-fed vampire can move faster than your bullets, can compel anyone to fight on their behalf, and can kill before the victim can fully grasp that they’re about to die.”

  Dominic studied my face. I wish I knew what he saw because it seemed quite amusing. I inhaled his distinctive scent. His proximity crowded out the redolence of the flowers around us.

  Taking my hand that held the rose, he brought it to his nose and inhaled. Moving closer, he devoured any space between us. I was standing in a black-and-crimson garden, with an ocean breeze coming from who the hell knew where, and Dominic was telling me even more horrific things about supernaturals while his face rested just inches from mine.

  Focus. I stepped back and took another small sip, teetering between wanting to stay sober through the information and the need to be numb enough to handle it. When he resumed walking, I sidled up next to him.

  “Shifters love rules and order, which is why they form packs and thrive best in a hierarchal system.” His eyes continued to study my face. The smile still beveled his lips. “Don’t think for a minute they haven’t infiltrated your military, your police, your government. Although shifters are born and not created, there are more of them than you can imagine.” With a sidelong look, he added, “If discord arises between shifters and humans, shifter loyalty will always be to shifters. You already know how hard it is to kill a shifter. Add their speed and strength and humans have no chance of survival against them.”

  We changed direction, heading toward the patio. The food beckoned me, but I continued to focus on him. I needed this information.

  “And witches, what chance do you think humans have against them?” he queried, stopping in his tracks in anticipation of an answer that I couldn’t give.