Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
L eaving the library, I caught the attention of the man I saw earlier, his expression curious as I passed him. I could feel his eyes on me. I turned to find him fighting hard to resist the smile threatening to emerge. If I wasn’t so determined to put distance between me and Dominic, I would have asked him what was so funny, but getting away from Dominic and everything he seemed to represent was a priority.
In the vast hallway, I was faced with the reality that I had nowhere to go. Roaming the house with an agitated Helena in it wasn’t the wisest thing to do. With shades drawn to me and willing to attack me, going outside wasn’t an option, either. My hand pressed against my injury.
“Anand,” I called out, turning toward the west wing of the house where he told me he resided. At least, I hoped it was the west. At that point I was just guessing. Scanning the room and above, I saw him approach the railings of the second floor. He was wearing dark blue track pants and a tank. He watched me the entire time as he made his way to the stairs and down them.
“Yes?” he asked, approaching me. Closer, I could see he not only had the scar on his face but also one on his right shoulder where he’d been clawed. He looked where my eyes had landed.
“Helena?” I blurted. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities, although after seeing him fight, I couldn’t imagine anyone being able to get close enough to inflict such injuries.
“No.” His curt response didn’t leave a lot of room for further questioning. I warred with my curiosity and courtesy. The latter won.
“Want some company?” I asked.
“Not particularly.”
Well, I had to appreciate his honesty. He looked over toward the library. “I won’t mind it too much if you want to accompany me.”
Ignoring the ‘too much’ part, I happily followed as he led me from the library and down the corridor, where I passed more rooms with closed doors. Only one was open, and I thought it was a poorly lit office until I saw the collection of swords on the walls and the menacing masks on the wall and a gothic-looking dark chair. The high back was covered with emerald velvet, complementing the elaborate carvings that extended to the claw feet and arms. The Lord of the Underworld was sunk back in the chair, fingers curved over the edge of it, distorting the carved design. I stopped, feeling the full impact of his eyes—the glow of a dying flame that didn’t waver. His lips parted as if he was about to say something but then closed. His study of me continued, leaving me to wonder if Helena had told him about the shades or about Dominic’s refusal to remove the marks that bound her. Simply giving him a stiff wave, I hurried to catch up with Anand, who swung open a set of double doors to reveal an impressive gym divided by fitness equipment with a bike, treadmill, salmon ladder, bars, dumbbells, and weight plates.
“You’re a shifter. Why do you need any of this?”
“The preternatural is inherent, and most feel that’s enough. Not for me—for us.”
So Dominic’s carved physique wasn’t just winning the genetic lottery but also physical work. It would be ridiculous to think that fighting skills were innate. Which explained the mat and heavy bag with a man’s face and torso.
“It’s a body opponent bag for precision strikes and punches,” Anand explained.
My attention moved from the equipment to the collections of blades and swords on the wall and tables. There wasn’t anything less dangerous to practice with, like training swords or blades. The sharp blades glinting under the bright lights showed me their sole purpose: to inflict a great deal of pain.
“We heal fast,” he offered, when I picked up one of the blades from the table. That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. Sparring with razor-sharp blades is fine because they heal fast? I wanted to return to my normal boring life where the answer wasn’t ‘you heal fast, let me stab you.’
“Is there anything you want to use to practice?” he asked.
The extent of my exercise was running, which I did only occasionally.
“I don’t work out,” I admitted, a little embarrassed by the confession. But if beings with preternatural strength and speed did, I could probably do a squat or pushup sometimes. Fighting—I’m just swinging my arms windmill-style and hoping one connects. I was confident I could throw a punch, kick a person in a soft spot that would ensure pain, but I wasn’t confident I’d fare well in a fight.
“Other than assaulting my cheating ex’s Good and Plenty’s, I’ve never had a fight,” I admitted.
“Explain?” he coaxed. Retelling the story of my boyfriend cheating on me and my reaction brought a smile to his lips. It was the first time he’d shown genuine interest. “Then let’s start with the basics,” he said.
After a few hours of him showing me beginner punches, it was undeniable that it wasn’t just being the strongest and fastest that appealed to them but also the endorphin high. Each strike shot filled me with an intoxicating level of exhilaration. For that moment, the dark world fell away. It was a moment of clarity and peace, and I didn’t even mind Anand’s peal of laughter when I attempted, without any instruction from him, to duplicate a combination strike and kick he’d done on a heavy bag in the corner and ended flat on my ass. Where I stayed. Tired, I lay back on the floor and closed my eyes. They snapped open when I was nudged by a warm, wet nose. I couldn’t see anything but knew it was one of Dominic’s hellhounds. I assumed Zareb, who seemed to be Dominic’s favorite.
“Hey, you,” I greeted, sitting up. He revealed himself before plopping onto my lap where I stroked his fur. Between the workout and pet, my anger and frustration had eased. I was in a better place until Dominic appeared, abruptly signaled Anand to leave, and Zareb to do so, too, after Dominic jerked his head toward the door.
Standing up, I attempted to mirror his indecipherable expression, but the frustration and irritation had returned, making stoicism difficult.
“I’m not used to asking for permission when I use my magic on anyone. If I’m using it, I have an objective and it supersedes all things,” he said softly. In a world of the powerful, perhaps consideration and kindness was viewed as weakness. After meeting his father, I wasn’t sure if it was just about not showing weakness and being the biggest predator, but rather the nature vs. nurture situation. Helena had given over to that side, whereas Dominic seemed to have a tenuous grasp keeping him from falling into it.
Whatever role I played in this situation, I didn’t want or belong in his world.
“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.
The knocking persisted and we attempted to ignore it until the commanding booming voice said, “Dominic, play with your…Luna, later.”
The pause I assumed was him deciding whether he’d give me a name or refer to me as ‘his human.’ We quickly redressed. I was smoothing out my hair when the lord entered. He gave me a sweeping dismissive glance before bringing it to his son. Even with a tight, polite smile, there was something adversarial in it.
“Dinner is in an hour. I’m expecting your and Luna’s attendance,” he said, turning on his heels. “Let’s not have a repeat of the defiance you’ve shown with Helena, son.” With that he left.
Dominic had given in to that insolence full throttle. He clearly had no intention of going. His kiss was hard and ravenous. When he attempted to return to where we’d left off, I stepped away.
“Dinner?” I reminded him.
He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He expended a great deal of effort averting his attention from my lips.
“Fine, I need to get you appropriate clothing,” he said before leaving. Did they seriously dress for dinner? What’s wrong with my jeans and button-down shirt? If this wasn’t acceptable, they’d be downright offended by my home dinner wear of an oversized shirt, occasionally some pants, and fluffy socks.
Well, I’d play by their rules and dress for dinner despite knowing the dinner was a facade for something more. I was just as curious about the Lord of the Underworld as he was about me.