Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
W hen Dominic returned, I took the dress bag he handed me. Unzipping it, I stared at the beautiful blush-taupe midi sheath dress with the dramatic draped neck. Dressy but not formal.
“It was Helena’s suggestion,” he admitted with a tight smile. I hope my face didn’t reveal how off-putting I found the dynamics between him and his sister. It wasn’t just their interaction I found complicated; it was her. One moment she was cheerfully insisting on my murder, the next she was selecting beautiful dresses for me. That suspicion had me eyeing the dress and forcing my imagination to resist going into hyperdrive determining the many ways she could use the dress to end me. Nothing feasible that didn’t require a multimillion-dollar production budget came to mind, but in the world of magic, I was sure there were things possible beyond my imagination.
“She’ll use this one act to prove she’s changed.” Dominic shrugged with a knowing frown. Even with my limited knowledge of the antics, I understood his frustration. I couldn’t imagine years, probably decades, of dealing with it.
Dominic kept on his slim-cut steel-gray slacks and black shirt that complemented his honed physique. He directed me to a different dining area with a beautiful spiral chandelier that added a modern touch to a formal dining room which held an ornate wood table that could seat twelve. Dark blue wainscoting made the vast and intimidating room more inviting. A section on the opposite side of the room had a lounging area complete with a bar. Like the dining room, it didn’t appear to get much use.
Areleus looked at ease seated at the head of the table with his daughter to his right. He directed Dominic to take the one to his left. I sat next to him. Anand entered, dressed similarly to Dominic but in dark green pants and an alabaster shirt, his hair slightly mussed from him idly running his fingers through it, which he was doing from the moment he entered the room. Him taking a seat at the far end of the table drew the lord’s attention.
“Anand, I appreciate you joining us. By joining, I’d hoped you would truly join us.”
So, it wasn’t just me he didn’t want to be around. Anand wasn’t a people person. With a heavy sigh, Anand stood and took the seat next to Helena and across from me. His interlocked fingers seemed to be more interesting than the people in the room.
With a personal invitation for dinner, I expected more than mundane chatter about the meal and the occasional request to pass the condiments. Once the plates were nearly empty, I became the recipient of Areleus’s undivided attention as he interviewed me, asking about my childhood, where I attended school, my interests and hobbies. He didn’t seem interested that I sketched and wrote poetry when I wasn’t reading. He seemed unimpressed that some of it was used in songs written by my best friend, Emoni. The notebooks filled with my musings were shared only with her. She’d always been a safe space for that. Thinking about the way her face brightened when I finally built up the courage to show her sent a pang through me. Remembering her appreciation and how I felt when she asked for permission to add stanzas of them to her songs, I felt a real longing for her. I missed talking to her, our banter, her urging me to live by her mantra of being my authentic self, and even her wild plots to get revenge on Jackson after our breakup. My heart ached knowing that when I returned for good, I would have to lie to her.
“I’ve upset you?” Areleus asked. The deep-seated confusion in his tone snapped me from my drift into Emoni.
Offering a tight smile, I said, “Not at all. I was just wondering how I’ll explain my absence to the people in my life once I return.” I gave Dominic a look. “Without using magic against them.”
The lord took a slow drink from his wine glass, his considering eyes turned in Dominic’s direction. His stony countenance turned pleased. As if he’d solved a puzzle. “I see the fascination,” he said. “Her optimism is contagious. How she’ll ‘explain’ her absence,” he repeated with a chuckle of dark amusement.
“Yes,” Helena cooed with the venom of a viper and a flourish of movement drawing attention to her magic-restricting marks. “Of all the toys he’s had and broken, she seems to be his favorite.” Her voice was cloying in contrast to the dagger-sharp glare and cutting remark.
“Toy?” Dominic challenged.
“Your human,” she scoffed. “She’s your favorite little human—until she’s not.”
I could see Dominic’s crude rebuttal brewing, but before he could comment I said, “I’m neither a toy nor ‘his’ human. I’m Luna. You can start by calling me that.”
She smirked. “Your Luna seems to be your favorite of all the humans you’ve had over the years.” Treating me to a critical once-over, she grimaced. “I struggle to see the root of it. Your intrigue has me intrigued.”
It had been said so often, I was wondering the same. I was not one for self-deprecating thinking, but Helena’s harping on it had me wondering what drew Dominic to me. It seemed more than just carnal lust.
Areleus looked from his daughter to his son. “Helena, how have you missed it? There’s plenty to pique his interest. The human Luna”—Did he think that was better?—“restored our position of rule with the supernaturals. Reclaimed her power by refusing to be a pawn in the Tenebras game, and undid his wrong. And she is quite determined to undo his misdeeds again.” He raised his glass to me. “Although Helena has missed how truly lovely you are, I appreciate it fully.”
Reluctantly, I admitted that Lord Areleus’s smile was enthralling. He gave it out so infrequently, it was otherworldly and enchanting. As I held his gaze, there was a hum, an allure, not the necessary fight or flight instinct. Jerking my eyes from him, I remembered that looking a vampire in the eyes was dangerous; it gave them the opportunity to compel. These people’s magic had something similar. I wouldn’t be lured into complacency, especially by him. Returning to my food, I put all my interest in finishing the last of it.
“Have you made any progress?” Areleus asked, pushing his plate away and refilling his wine glass. Once his attention was off me, I did the same and took a long appreciative drink of the full-bodied expensive wine that I wasn’t likely to experience after I left.
“Not yet. I will need access to the Book of Umbra .”
“That book of spells is restricted. Magic from it should always be a last resort,” Areleus warned.
I stole a glance at Anand. He was watching the exchange with a casual interest, but it was obvious he was looking for an appropriate time to leave.
“It will be used as such. No spell is unbreakable. I just need more time.”
The lord considered it. “Is time in our favor? Our position among the supernaturals has been restored, yet we are absent. A civil war is brewing and by the time we are free, will we be met with the results of a coup? You’ve said that there are things at work that will change the power brokers of the Conventicle,” he noted.
I wasn’t opposed to new leadership of the Conventicle. I had a problem with them wanting me dead. But I was no longer the reason the prisoners were loose, so I was indifferent about who led the Conventicle. I was team anti-Awakeners.
“Which is why I need the Book of Umbra . I need to weigh all possible options. At this point it’s harm reduction. I realize spells from that book come at a cost—an irreparable imbalance. Although I’m not in a rush to compromise my magic, I will if it is necessary.”
The lord nodded, easing the pinched frown. “And you shall have it.”
Anand took that as the end of the discussion and as an indicator that dinner was complete. Placing his napkin on the plate, he stood to leave. Areleus tracked his progress until he disappeared through the double doors, then he let his disappointment peek through.
“At least he joined us. That is the most we can ask for.”
The moment I completed my dinner, Dominic offered a rushed goodbye and rose to leave as well. I was reluctant to do so when the chef mentioned dessert. But no promise of a delectable cake was enough to make me stay alone with them. Despite Areleus’s stiff smile he gave whenever I looked in his direction, Helena only offered me glares. Dominic’s rush to leave showed his exhausted tolerance of his father. The forced amicability was obvious in every strained word they spoke when they attempted conversation.
As we departed, Areleus called Dominic’s name. As he turned to respond, an illuminated ball hit him in the chest with a thud, sending him crashing into the door and ripping it from the hinges. Splintered wood scattered. Pulled back against a hard chest, I was secured by Areleus’s hand around my throat, his claws held steady at my stomach. Dominic recovered, glaring at his father’s hand that with a swipe could do unspeakable damage. Fear made tears brim in my eyes. I tried not to blink because they’d spill. I wouldn’t give Helena, who I could see out of my peripheral, the satisfaction of that. Despite my intentions, I did blink, and tears slid down my face. Fire ignited in Dominic’s hand and narrowed eyes studied his father. Behind the glare were calculations and defiance.
“Release Luna,” Dominic demanded. He inched toward his father. I released a sharp gasp when Areleus’s hold tightened.
“My commands are not to be ignored, Dominicus,” Areleus told him. “You will release your sister’s magic as I requested.”
Dominic’s response was to take slow steps toward us, his eyes sliding in the direction of his sister, who must have been gleeful at the magic and violence unfolding in front of her, and even more so that I was the recipient.
Dominic’s insolence had taken full control. This battle extended beyond just me and seemed deeply rooted in something I knew nothing of.
“Have you grown so confident that you no longer understand your position? So foolish as to mistake my commands as suggestions?” Areleus bit out.
Energy peeled from the air, along with what felt like the removal of oxygen, making it even more difficult to breathe.
“Do I need to show you the penalty for your disobedience?” Areleus growled through clenched teeth. “You want her alive for an ill-conceived notion of preventing it happening again. I’ve granted that to you. You realize I don’t care. One swipe and I free us.”
“You’ve always been short-sighted. An ill-fated quality that Helena shares.”
“Yet, despite your efforts, I still rule.”
Dominic’s jaw clenched so hard he could make diamonds from coal. If there was ever a debate over the existence of animosity between them, which Dominic had suppressed into amused disdain, there was no question now. A fiery rage was in his eyes. A thirst for violence that he planned to sate.
Areleus’s cruel laugh broke the silence. “I can see the plans, son. Shall your second attempt to dethrone me be as ineffective as your first? It’s been a century, perhaps the years have dulled your memory.”
Dominic glared at him. “I forgot nothing, including what led me to do it. Release her, now.”
The claws pressed into my skin, to let me know of their presence and what they could do, and the control he possessed with them. My head filled with ways to break his hold. How close was I to his sensitive crotch? If I clawed at his hand, would he retaliate? His hold tightened, blocking all my breath when I touched his hand. His hold was powerful, clipping my last breath.
“It’s my son who values your life, not me,” he pronounced in a breathy whisper near my ear. And then to Dominic, “Remove Helena’s restriction, now.”
Dominic didn’t move, his chin tilted in an unspoken challenge. Anger flared in me at him using me to make a point. My heart pounded. How long would Areleus tolerate Dominic’s insolence? His eyes were locked on his father, the restraint of fury a tendril nearly at its breaking point.
“You failed before. What skills have you acquired that you believe will lead to your success this time? I’m not as trusting of you as your sister is. And I would never put myself in a position to allow you to suppress my magic. You are aware that use of the magic in the Book of Umbra comes at a cost. Weakness of your magic. That will challenge your delusions of besting me, won’t it? This is my final warning.”
“Helena,” Dominic called softly. She quickly made her way to him, her expression a sheet of innocence as if she wasn’t the source of this altercation. Turning to face his sister, Dominic took hold of her arms. His mouth moved, but he spoke so low his words were inaudible. The marks on her arms became gilded before illuminating. They unraveled slowly from her arms before disappearing. She studied her brother during the spell, her lips twisted, seeing something in him that registered as concern in her face. Once the markings had disappeared, he pulled Helena to him and whispered something that made her face go pallid.
The second I was released I dashed out of the destroyed doorway, heading toward the bedroom but stopping in front of the library. I didn’t want to be around Dominic, and Anand was clearly at his limit with peopling. Absently, I stood in the hallway, without a clear direction to go.
“You look like you could use some tea,” said a melodic deep voice from the library entrance.
I turned to find the man who’d judged my clothes earlier leaning against the frame of the opened door, offering me a sympathetic half smile.
Nodding, I followed as he led me through the library, around the stacks, and down another hallway to a door. He opened it to reveal an oasis. A vibrant tall fiddleleaf plant in the corner offered the dose of greenery I hadn’t realized I’d missed so much. On one of the shelves and on the corner of the desk were smaller verdant plants. The one with a hint of pale orange reminded me of a plant that Cameron, the owner of Books and Brew, had in her office. I sighed. I missed her, too. I could use her infectious optimism and vitality now.
“The only one that’s real is that one.” He pointed to the plant on a table next to a chaise at the opposite end of the room. “It doesn’t require a lot of light so it can thrive with the light from the greenhouse. I take it out there occasionally for a dose. It’s not the real sun, but it’s serviceable.”
I got the impression that the fake sun was as much for him as it was for the plants. The sage-gray walls… I exhaled at the peace they invoked. It felt like I had been holding my breath since I left the spectacle between Dominic—or rather, Dominicus—Areleus, their drama, and the threat of death. Pushing all thoughts of that from my head, I took in the oversized curved boucle sofa and the combination of traditional and deco art and furniture. It was a surprising design style for a man who wore a vest and speckle-rim glasses.
“I love your office,” I said, making a huge assumption since the spacious room, except for the desk, didn’t look like a typical office.
Pleased, he headed to a narrow, free-standing range in the kitchen nook. He added water to the gooseneck kettle.
“Relax and make yourself at home.”
I headed for the chaise and settled back on it.
Within minutes of the kettle whistling, the aroma of chamomile and something I couldn’t quite identify hit my senses. Inhaling the scent didn’t make the incident from earlier disappear, but it was a comforting distraction. I crossed my legs, giving him room to sit on the end of the chaise, and extended my hand to the area, inviting him to join me. He was human, or human passing. It didn’t matter. It was comforting. He was comforting. Hesitating, he studied my face before taking the seat.
“Thank you so much…” My words trailed as I waited for a name.
“Jasper,” he provided.
“Thank you, Jasper. I’m?—”
“Luna,” he interjected. “You have been quite the talk as of late.”
That was surprising to hear since my interaction with people was limited. “Really?”
“Maybe not the talk.” He shrugged. “But you’ve piqued everyone’s curiosity. No one knows why you’re here. You don’t seem to have a job here and Dominic has never brought a…” He searched for the right word. “Paramour here.”
I applaud your search, Jasper, but that’s definitely not the right word. That description made a relationship seem benevolent and simplistic and the opposite of what existed between Dominic and me.
“How long have you been here?” I asked, not ready to discuss Dominic, his violent family, or his paramours—or people he enjoyed fucking and betraying, if Helena’s accounts were to be believed.
“Eight years. I’ve been here the longest. Usually, people stay a year or two. Chefs tend to stay a little longer, three to five years.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure why.”
“And the librarian stays the longest,” I teased.
“It was what I did before I accepted the invitation to come here. It’s easy and I’m surrounded by books. It’s a good existence.” He said it with a smile, but sadness crept into his voice and I debated whether to press for more information.
“You prefer being somewhere different?”
The pensive smile he worked at was achieved with a great deal of effort. “I prefer living in a place where there aren’t any reminders of loss,” he admitted. For a stretch of time, he was silent as we drank our tea. “My partner. He and I had many great years together, and when he died, it was a hollow existence. Here I have no reminder and I stay relatively busy.”
How, I wondered.
He leaned in with a conspiratorial look. “I’ve never been in the other room.” I figured he was referring to the magic room. “I spend a great deal of time trying to trick it into granting me entrance.”
My laughter lifted the somber heaviness that had drifted into the room and made him grin. I wanted to keep that grin there and him far from the morose mood I’d glimpsed when he spoke of his partner. I directed my attention to the cabinets where he’d taken out the tea. “This isn’t just chamomile, is it?”
His face brightened. “My special blend.” He escorted me to the cabinet and opened it to reveal canisters of various labeled herbal teas and blends. His love for it rivaled Emoni’s love for coffee. That squashed my desire for them to meet. A love for tea and coffee wasn’t the recipe for a budding friendship.
“There are a few books there.” He jerked his chin toward the table. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like.”
I took a sip of tea, grimaced at the tepid temperature, and was about to rewarm it in the microwave when Jasper’s eyes widened with disgust. Okay, I’ll drink cooled tea. He offered to make me another and directed me to the chaise. Watching him prepare the tea, I was convinced he enjoyed the preparation as much as the tea.
Lifting the hardback of Charlotte’s Web , I gave him a quizzical look.
“Sometimes a return to the books we loved as a child is what we desperately need.”
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.