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

by McKenzie Hunter

  “What’s wrong with you! Why are you trying to bald me?”

  Chuckling, he knelt at the threshold, laying the strands across it. He whispered, said a few words, and as at my home, light flashed before revealing a diaphanous wall that quickly faded.

  “No one can enter, not even me.” Then he was gone.

  I wasn’t sure if it was irritation, or the tingling from my hair being yanked out, or disappointment in myself for my fleeting moment of wanting a little more. There was a part of me curious to know what it would feel like to have his supple lips on mine. Did he have the same ardent intensity during sex? My intrigue hadn’t stopped there. My thoughts and eyes had lingered over the shirt molded to what was an obviously well-sculpted chest and stomach.

  Luna, I scolded myself, forcing my thoughts to the members of the Conventicle and how they had looked at him, and the cool indifference in his eyes when he bared his neck to his sister. How could I forget the malicious intent in his face when he circled me in fire? And I had to remember what Helena said about the volatility of his protection of my life. Hormones be damned. He was not the guy I should fawn over.

  14

  Heading straight to the library, the only thing that kept me from rushing back to work and ignoring the croissants I saw left on the counter for breakfast as I passed the kitchen was Anand seated at the counter beckoning me to join him.

  I took it as a good sign. Riding on the high of optimism, I took my wins where I could find them. Soon I would be able to freely move between this world and mine. I hoped Dominic had agreed because he was confident we’d break the spells today. I was extremely hopeful of that, too.

  Twenty minutes into working in the spellbook room, Anand seated in the chair closest to the door and engrossed in a book from the main library, keeping that flourish of hope burning was becoming more difficult. Suspicion dominated.

  “Are you here as a companion, or security?” I asked, looking up from the book I’d been going through.

  His lips lifted into a pleasing curl. “Companion.” Despite it being a total lie, his gentle demeanor would have made a less cynical person believe it.

  It only made me more curious about him and the people who lived in the Underworld.

  “You’re not related to Dominic and Helena, are you?”

  He shook his head. Based on the blithe look that coursed over his face and gleamed in his eyes, he knew I was grasping for information and he wasn’t going to offer it freely. I missed Nailah.

  “Nailah doesn’t live here?”

  “That information you know already. I took her home.”

  It was my time to nod.

  “I was born here,” he provided, putting me out of my misery. He placed the book on the table. “My mother was once a prisoner, before things changed. My father was given the option to raise me. He declined. I grew up here with Dominic and Helena.” It explained his seemingly fraternal relationship with Dominic.

  “You chose to continue to live here as an adult?”

  He was a man of few words, only offering another slight nod, or at least I took it to be a nod. It was such a minute movement, I wasn’t sure. But that was all he provided before returning to his book. I wanted to know more about his magic. Before I could ask, he gave me a subtle suggestion redirecting me to my work. Actually, not particularly subtle. His eyes flicked from his book to mine.

  “You should work on that.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for debate or further questions.

  Dominic attempted to slip into the room unnoticed, but he wasn’t someone who could easily evade drawing attention. Anand took his arrival as an opportunity to leave. Companion, my ass. He wasn’t even covert about it as he gave Dominic a “I did my job” look before leaving.

  In silence, Dominic copied the spells I had found into the notebook. He scanned the findings, arranging several spells.

  “Are you weaving a spell?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t weave spells,” he provided in a tight voice. He really didn’t like sharing his limitations. Perhaps because he seemed to have so few, it was a reminder that he wasn’t omniscient. “I’m removing each spell individually. A weaver can make a single spell that could remove them all. It’s a power limited to just witches.”

  He waited patiently as I finished up the final book then copied what I’d found to the notebook. After several minutes of analyzing the various spells, he changed the spells around and took my hand in his. His gentleness and the warmth of his fingers on mine was a direct contrast to the clinical detachment with which he studied the markings. Something hummed off him that I couldn’t quite place. Magic? Anger? Frustration? It definitely had hints of wrathful determination. It was quite apparent he didn’t enjoy this part of his job. He probably delighted in the hell storms, violence, and retribution parts.

  Dominic explained he wanted to observe the sigils’ response to the spells, so we headed to the dungeon.

  There wasn’t any response from the first three spells, not a hint of a glow from my finger and nothing from the sigils on the wall. The fourth created a halo of light over my finger, matching that on the wall. The glow pulsed at a defiant beat, and there was a noticeable fading of the markings on my finger and on the wall. Smoky incorporeal figures formed in the prisons for mere seconds before fading away. Then a torrent of magic trampled through the space; small cracks formed in the glass before it exploded in a rain of shards. Covering my face, I knew my arm would get the brunt of it, but I felt nothing but the heat of Dominic’s body in front of mine, the sound of shattered glass hitting the floor, and what I was sure was some against Dominic’s back.

  My finger ached, but I didn’t feel any cuts. Nothing. Dominic didn’t show any signs of injury from the spray of glass against him.

  “I was able to put up a protective wall,” he explained at my surprised expression. “I wasn’t sure I got it up in time. That was definitely unexpected.” He hooked his finger under my chin, roving over it and my neck, taking it in. Taking my hand in his, his fingers a gentle feather touch as they slid across my skin, he examined me for damage. A warm, unexpected feeling moved over me at his touch.

  “I’m fine,” I assured him, surprised by the tenderness of his touch. When he released me, I couldn’t place the emotions that moved over his face, but there were hints of confusion and—perhaps disappointment. Was he surprised by his concern for me? I definitely was. His lips pressed into a tight line. He dropped my hand quickly and stepped back and studied the space where we’d seen a vestige of the inhabitants for a passing moment.

  Preoccupied, Dominic seemed only vaguely aware of me as he made his way back to the spellbook room, leaving me trailing behind. He slowed at the sight of Helena in the library, resting back on the chaise, a book on her lap. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose chignon, and she was wearing a delicate-looking white maxi dress that exposed her arms and the magic-restricting manacles. I wasn’t sure if it was an act of acceptance or to serve as a reminder to her brother of his perceived cruelty.

  There was a softness to her that belied any of the cruelty she’d exhibited before. She looked demure and innocuous. If this had been my first time meeting her, it would be hard for me to believe she was capable of cruelty. But there were still traces of something ominous and fierce in her eyes, refusing to leave despite her best effort. She was presenting a sheep, when the wolf within was rearing to attack.

  That was the point. When anger, avowals of sibling hatred, and violence didn’t work, she tried another tactic. Dominic gave her a passing look before heading for the spellbook room, stopping with an exasperated sigh when she called his name.

  Slipping past him, I was going to continue into the spellbook room, having had my fill of drama for the day.

  “Luna, please stay,” she requested in a saccharine tone. Her stark change from before scared me more than if she’d attempted to strangle me again. I kept a wary eye on her approach.

  “You’re not having success with undoing the
spells, are you?” she surmised, looking at Dominic. His jaw clenched at her statement. “You won’t. The protection spell is reacting to your magic. A deflexio protection. No matter what spell you do, it will be deflected.” She turned to me. “Whatever spell is being used, it’s encrypting it, changing the response,” she explained.

  “It’s responding to external magic,” he said.

  “Exactly.”

  His teeth gripped his lips in contemplation, then he slowly released them and looked from me to his sister. More silence filled the room and as looks passed between the siblings, I felt more and more like an uninvited guest.

  “I’ll continue to go through the spells,” I suggested, and when no one objected, I went to the spellbook room. There weren’t any more books to go through, but I’d use any excuse to get away from them.

  I was an undesired interloper, and the room let me know. The nudge of the air was more insistent, rougher. The room was more assertive with its feelings when I was alone.

  “I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here,” I told it. Great, I’m talking to rooms now. Things just keep getting better.

  Despite the revelation about the deflexio spell, I busied myself going over the spells, trying to make any sense of them, and help as much as I could with my limited knowledge of spell casting and magic. Being proactive and relentless were the only things I could cling to.

  My eyes lifted to the door nudging open and a large raw steak floating into the room with grooves pressed into it from what I suspected were teeth, since I couldn’t see them.

  Hi, Zareb. I let myself be momentarily distracted by the meat being unceremoniously plopped on the floor and the aggressive sounds of a dog shredding and eating the raw meat. Within a matter of minutes, there was just a bone. Silence. I wondered if he was taking a nap. A low shrill sound of shock whooshed from me when something rubbed against my leg.

  Appearing next to me, Zareb leaned forward, wanting to be petted.

  “Hey, Cujo,” I greeted. He bristled, lifting his head until his intelligent dark eyes met mine. I flashed him a tight smile. I’d offended the massive hellhound.

  “Sorry,” I said, stroking his soft fur. His easy breathing and simple enjoyment were oddly comforting. His response was one of the few things that seemed consistent with my world. An Underworld hound that was sent out for scouting, enjoying the basic pleasure of being petted like a normal dog. Normal didn’t last long when he eased into his invisible form, his head still resting on my leg.

  An invisible hound, not weird at all. Just another day in the Underworld. Nothing to see here. Move along.

  Dominic entered the spellbook room, his eyes quickly finding Zareb. When he made a ticking sound, Zareb’s head lifted from my leg and he moved away, Dominic’s hand reaching out to stroke his head in passing. Dominic continued to track the hound’s movement toward the door, which nudged open wider. I remained focused on Dominic, looking for any changes in his eyes that would key me in to when Zareb was around. There weren’t any. Another tick of sound from Dominic and the steak bone was removed.

  “She’s fine around her,” Dominic told the animal. With the dog invisible, I wasn’t able to tell his response and Dominic was a blank slate revealing nothing. I knew who the “her” was. Zareb obviously didn’t trust Helena around me.

  “Do you still want the ability to come here unaccompanied?” Dominic asked, closing the door after Zareb.

  “Yes.”

  He inhaled a breath and crossed his arms with a dark, commanding primality that seemed wholly his. Helena’s countenance was distinctive, too: baleful reproach, airy confidence, and predatory stealth. It was clear even when she camouflaged it with stylish clothing and flawless makeup.

  Dominic moved with fluid grace, taking the seat next to me and resting back in the chair, his hands clasped on his stomach. I couldn’t help but look at the way his slim-fit shirt’s midnight blue complemented his physique, and the rolled shirtsleeves, his exposed well-muscled arms. It was a calculated presentation and I naively fell for it.

  “Why?” His question held no curiosity. It seemed like he was asking for confirmation of something he already knew. What else had he and Helena discussed?

  I’ll play your game.

  “As I said before, it’d be easier to continue my work. I’m just as committed to ending this as you are. Neither you nor Anand will need to shadow me. I’m sure you two have more pressing things to deal with than watching me.”

  “You believe you’ll be safe at work?” Another non-question.

  I wasn’t exactly confident of that. “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  He barely nodded.

  “You don’t believe I will be?”

  “You’re safe from the Conventicle and those under their governance.”

  Despite my best effort to hide any doubt, my thoughts went to the vampire attack. “Kane will honor it?”

  “Kane was out of line. The Conventicle claims he wasn’t acting on their behalf. He never would have been violent toward you, but him attempting to circumvent our agreement was unacceptable. It has been handled.” There was a hard edge to his voice.

  Handled.

  “Is he still alive?” It took a moment for me to get the question out, afraid of the answer. He had been staked in the chest. It seemed like a harsh enough punishment.

  “He doesn’t breathe or have a working circulatory system,” Dominic pointed out.

  “Is he still around?”

  “No, but Bael is,” he told me. “The shifter who attacked you,” he added in response to my questioning look.

  “Then I should be fine. The Awakeners won’t hurt me. I die and the prisoners are returned. That won’t serve their purpose if they’re looking to secure an alliance with them.”

  He nodded but still looked unconvinced. “Understand that my sister will be here whenever you arrive unaccompanied,” he reminded me.

  Yes, I was perfectly aware of that. “You two seem to be playing nice,” I said.

  “She’s playing nice because I’m the means to her getting back her magic. I know my sister well. To her, you are simply a toy she has the opportunity to break as a way to retaliate against me.”

  I frowned. “Toy?”

  “No worries. I have no intention of playing with you.” His gaze was playful, his smirk a sensual taunt. “Unless you want me to,” he tacked on in a husky drawl.

  “No,” I sputtered. It didn’t ring true or have the level of assertion to wipe away his smirk.

  “Luna, why do you really want this?”

  His brow hitched as he studied me. I wasn’t giving him anything.

  “We want the same thing. As you said, our interests align.”

  Nodding his head slowly, he considered my answer, but it was apparent he remained unconvinced.

  “If there’s a protection spell around the markings, how do we get around it?” I was genuinely curious about that, but the question also served to redirect his scrutiny.

  “Magic. We have to get you your own. That should be an acceptable workaround.”

  It’s that easy? Just get you magic and while we’re at it, let’s end world hunger, negotiate global peace, and develop great-tasting zero-calorie chocolate.

  “Is it as simple as you’re making it sound?” It might be that simple. He was magic and had an abundance of overlapping magic.

  He shook his head. “Not at all. If it were as simple as loaning my magic to you, maybe.”

  “Why make it harder than it needs to be? Or is the idea of you being without magic for a day too much?”

  “My magic will kill you?” he provided with an easy shrug. “Witches crave magic and although it is against their laws—violations are met with swift and pitiless penalties—there’s always one Strata Three who wants to take it to another level.”

  “You’re that next level.”

  Oh, Prince, modesty doesn’t fit you, I thought at his downcast eyes and his failed attempt at humility.
>
  “It’s been tried twice—and they both died. I didn’t kill them,” he added before I could ask or get the inquiring look off my face. “It will have to be witch magic.”

  “I’m human. Will it work for me? Isn’t it usually witch to witch? A stronger witch taking magic from a lesser?”

  He assured me with an unenthusiastic nod, but I needed much more than that.

  “How do you know?”

  His eyes dropped to the ring. “Because that would have killed you.”

  “What?” I fumbled out.

  He frowned. “Magic has only been shared by other magic holders. From my knowledge, it has never been tried with a non-magical. There was no precedent that showed you casting a spell would work. You were used as a test subject. If you’re able to power this magic, you’ll be able to survive witch magic. It’s closer to Caster magic than mine, it appears.”

  My frustration was solely directed at the Dark Caster. Did they have some privileged knowledge that this would work? Was I simply a guinea pig to them, risking my life without any evidence it would have been successful? Things could have gone in an entirely different direction. I could have died that day. Tamping down the panic became so difficult, I focused on things in my control.

  “How soon can we get me magic?” I needed this to end and the Dark Caster found. If the desire for anonymity allowed them to adhere to some semblance of rule, then let them have it and get me out of this world.

  “I just need to make the arrangements. Later today, or early tomorrow. Witches dislike being without their magic. When you have it all your life, it’s as if a part of you is missing when divested of it. We will need to be efficient and strike true. I’ll have all the spells in order for it.”

  Strike true? With so many possible combinations of spells, could we do that? The silence was stretched taut, his expression indiscernible. I wondered if we shared the same worry.

  “I’d like you to stay another day,” he requested.

  This time, I actually wanted the same. But it was Wine-Down, and I wanted to be there for Emoni and Cameron. It would also give Dominic more time to work through the spells.