Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
I awoke, covered by a heavy blanket, the book next to me, and fully aware of Dominic’s presence. It couldn’t be ignored. He’d repositioned the desk chair just a few inches from me. His turbulent energy was chasing away the calmness of the room.
“You didn’t come to bed last night.”
The underworld’s odd light didn’t ebb in from the small window. The room was lit by the flicker of golden radiance from Dominic’s magic and the transfixing glow that dwelled in his amber eyes in varying degrees. It was muted now, a hint, and they were intensely focused on me.
“I didn’t want to be around you,” I blurted before I could tamp down my curt admission. I kept being used as a pawn in his world, first by Peter and now by the Lord of the Underworld. Peter needed me alive. Areleus didn’t.
He grunted. If my words bothered him, nothing about his expression hinted that it did.
“Your father was going to kill me,” I said, my voice quivering. It was achingly difficult trying to ignore the phantom touch of the lord’s claws pressed into my stomach, to not replay his cold venomous words over and over.
“That is who he is,” he asserted, emotionless. I detected the undisclosed part as well. That’s the way they are.
“Are you like that?” I asked, the need for real answers overriding my fear of knowing just how vicious he could be.
“Sometimes.” Without any inflection in his voice, I couldn’t determine if it was a source of shame or pride.
“Because it’s necessary or you choose to be?”
“Violence and cruelty are necessary in this world, Luna. It is unfortunate that he sees you as a bargaining tool,” he said.
“Unfortunate for you,” I barked. I needed some form of emotion. His lack of passion infuriated and scared me. I was locked in the underworld with them, and it didn’t seem like I had any allies. My chances of survival were whittling away if I didn’t at least have Dominic.
“Do you want me to leave?” It seemed more like a challenge than a question.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. He closed his eyes and took away the magical ebbs of light, plunging the room into darkness.
“I need light,” I told him. My request was left unanswered so we sat in darkness, the tension thick between us, the silence heavy with hostility.
“My father’s right,” he whispered, sparking an urge in me to run. The air changed, becoming heavy and uncomfortable. Toxic energy slithered over my skin, and I tried to determine if it was subtle magic or the obvious animosity between us.
“I could end this right now, break the vessel.” His hand created a gentle gird around my neck that could easily become the death of me. His dagger claws could sever the vessels in my neck in an instant. My heart thrashed so hard, he had to have heard it. I stilled and closed my eyes. It wasn’t as if I could see it coming. Do anything about it. Helplessness felt horrible. No part of me could let that define me or the situation, despite all evidence to the contrary. My fingers crawled toward the book that I’d fallen asleep with. Could I strike him hard enough to give me the advantage?
He whispered my name. It carried in the room, something desperate and conflicted in the strain of that one word.
A soft light glowed between us. Dominic looked contemplative as his hand rested on my neck. As if he was looking for the inspiration to perform the execution.
“Dominicus?” I whispered.
“Don’t call me that,” he demanded. A wrathful blaze ignited in his eyes, then faded into a depthless darkness. I swallowed at his palpable warring emotions.
Dominic’s hands moved to my jawline. At a gentle rhythm, his thumb ran along it, then swept across my lips. As quickly as he was near me, he was gone, leaving me with even more questions.
I fumbled around the room, looking for a light. Once I found it, I turned it on, spilling much needed light into the room. I folded the blanket and returned the book to the table before reluctantly heading for Dominic’s bedroom to get dressed. Staying away from him wasn’t really an option, and I was so unsettled by not having a definitive answer. Could I trust Dominic with my life? That question dominated all the many thoughts, inquiries, and tactics in my mind.
Before I left the library, I found Jasper, who was busying himself dusting and wiping down books, probably as an excuse to distance himself from the mercurial Dominic. I waved goodbye to him and thanked him for his hospitality. Jasper responded with a nod and bringing his hand to his chest. I wasn’t sure if it meant his pleasure or that he enjoyed my company, but it was a welcomed response.
Making my way to Dominic’s room was a slog. I was on edge, fearful that I’d run into the lord or the magically restored Helena. Despite my determination to get more answers from Dominic, I wasn’t enthusiastic about seeing him, either.
His struggle was real and so was his disappointment at his inability to choose the simplest resolution to their problem. Dominic’s curiosity might be his Achilles heel and my guaranteed safety. Getting rid of me might prevent him from learning more about my purpose and what the vessel was capable of, but it would free them and prevent Peter from ever using me again.
As I eased the door open, I could see Dominic on the sofa, legs spread. Like his presence, taking up far too much space. Nothing about his mien felt approachable, nor did it feel like the time to talk. The conflict had placed a rigid crease between his brows. With each step I made toward the bedroom to get to the shower, I could feel his eyes on me. Hard and penetrating.
“I want you alive, Luna,” he whispered. Was that all I was going to get from the embattled Dominic? I needed more, but nothing about him at that moment showed I’d get it.
I slipped past him without a word and headed for the bedroom where I grabbed some clothing and retreated to the bathroom, taking that moment of reprieve before I talked to Dominic. After, I was determined to get everything I needed from him: a promise that he’d do everything to ensure I left the underworld alive.
Clean, relaxed from the shower, and dressed in clothes that weren’t a reminder of the previous day, I headed back to the seating area resolute and draped in faux bravado. I was getting answers and an oath of protection from him. But in the sitting area, I found Dominic gone and Anand in his place.
My bodyguard has returned . I probably needed one more than ever.
“Breakfast?” he asked, standing with a smirk, responding to my growling stomach. Worrying had proven to be a calorie-burning activity.
Stopping abruptly at the sight of Areleus seated in the kitchen, a coffee in hand, and a croissant and fruit on a plate, I was shocked— No, I was fucking appalled by the audacity of him greeting me with a brilliant welcoming smile.
“Good morning, Luna.” His voice was a deep purr of malevolence. “Would you like to join me?”
Was he fucking serious? I could see where Helena got her sociopathic gumption from. He was bathed in it.
“No,” I gritted out. “Why would I ever want to have a meal with you?!”
His eerie speed of movement had him standing before me in a breath, looking down at me, darkly amused by whatever he saw.
“I do see the appeal,” he admitted softly. “There’s something quite alluring about you. I’d go as far as to say it is intoxicating. It has certainly left my son addled.”
“You’re exploiting it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Furtively, I looked around for the guards. I was confident the Lord of the Underworld was about to be kneed in his man berries and I needed to know how close the guards were. Because after the assault on them, I planned to get in as many punches as possible before the guards stopped me. It wasn’t likely they’d side with me, but if they had any idea what was said, they might not handle me as roughly.
He moved closer. “What is it about you, Luna?” Another person with that gift of putting so much into my name. He moved around me. I followed. I would not let a poisonous viper out of my sights. It amused him. Areleus’s eyes dipped to my lips, his leering obvious and gross. Areleus was a sociopath and I couldn’t see past that, no matter how sinfully attractive he was.
“Anand, what is it?” he asked, keeping his eyes on me. I risked a glance in Anand’s direction, but he seemed genuinely confused as well.
“I don’t know,” Anand finally admitted.
“Yes, it is quite the conundrum, isn’t it?” Areleus’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not sharing information with me.”
“What? He’s not providing information after you attempted to murder his friend? The audacity,” I spat out.
Areleus repeated my assertion of being Dominic’s friend with the revulsion of a vile curse.
“ Anand is Dominic’s friend. I don’t doubt that when he’s with you, friendly thoughts are the furthest from his mind. You are a siren to him, and he’s answered your call. Is it you, Luna, the peculiar little human, or is there more to you? Will I need to crack you open to see?”
Fear and adrenaline jetting through me, I drew taller and met his challenging eyes. These people were energized and provoked by fear, so I would deprive him of it. The seconds ticked by before he gave me another assessing once-over before departing. His threat lingered.
“I want to go home,” I whispered.
As if saying it would bring it to fruition.
My interaction with Areleus didn’t ruin my appetite. Anand had a scone and coffee while I devoured a lot of food in hope it would hold me for the day and decrease the chance of further encounters with Areleus or Helena.
My plan to head to the library for more research if the magical room allowed, or visit with Jasper, was squashed when Anand directed me to Dominic’s office. It was the midnight-blue room where Dominic had showed me how to use the Trapsen to travel from the underworld. There wasn’t a magical key required for entrance this time. Anand pushed the door open without so much as a knock. Dominic was eying several objects on the desk. Expectant eyes flicked to me and I quickly moved toward Anand.
“You want to practice more later today?” Anand asked.
“Practice what?”
He chuckled. “Your punches and”—his lips quivered from obviously fighting the urge to laugh at the image of me attempting one of his combinations moves and landing on my butt—“kicks. Perhaps we can go over kicks.”
“I’d like that.”
He was headed out the door before I could get a time.
“Just call my name, I’ll find you,” he told me. Yeah, because that’s not creepy at all.
Dominic’s lips furled into a sneer at the door. I couldn’t determine if Anand felt it or sensed it, but he turned back around. Their eyes locked. I couldn’t see what was going on between them. Anand’s lips pursed and the shake of his head was so imperceptible I questioned if it was my imagination. Dominic inhaled a deep breath, letting it ease out. Something substantial occurred during that exchange that was borne from knowing each other well and for a long time. No matter how minute, I hadn’t missed it. With the tension in the room eased, Anand left, giving me a quick look and a heavy sigh. The wariness in it was palpable.
“What do you want?” I asked Dominic. All the warmth had drained from my voice. I had reached my limits with his hot and cold, indecisive, mercurial ways.
His fingers slithered over a large worn black book with gold edges. Gilded embossed words were on the cover in a language I didn’t recognize.
“The Book of Umbra ?” I asked.
He nodded. “It’s a last resort. I don’t know how many spells will be needed to undo the imprisonment. They will need to be stable and complementary to the others,” he pondered.
Sight of the orb, the knife with sigils on the blade, and the glass bottle of ink on the table made me uneasy. As a distraction, I picked up the book and flipped through it. It served no purpose other than to make things more confusing, since I didn’t understand the ominous-looking language. The sigils and strange markings in the book looked even more foreboding.
I turned when I felt the heat of his body behind me. He was close, too close. The smart thing was to put distance between us and stick with the single goal of getting the hell out of the underworld. He slipped the book from my hands and let it drop to the floor. Drawing me close, his fingers twined in my hair, his lips inches from mine, and the heat that radiated from him curled around me. His presence and touch were an intoxicating mix. It was impossible to deny his raw sexuality. The desire to see his entire body overwhelmed me. To feel his skin against mine and the masterful touch of his hands moving over me, caressing my skin in his dark, seductive way. I responded to his lips brushing lightly against me, his tongue teasing my lip with promise of more to come. The languid, commanding way his hand moved over me made it easy to forget about the previous days, but I forced them to the forefront. I wouldn’t let my libido make me ignore his earlier behavior; the indecision and frustration that came over him at his inability to take the easy option. He wanted to but couldn’t. Whatever kept him from doing it then may not exist in the future.
“No,” I said, pulling away from him. “I can’t do this. You’re confusing me.” Putting even more space between us, I crossed my arms over my chest.
“How?” he asked in a low and raspy breath.
“Have you dealt with a human woman before?” I asked, incredulous.
“I’ve dealt plenty with human women,” he said, the devilish note in his words teasing me. I wouldn’t be distracted by the salacious implications.
“I can’t speak for others, but this human woman can’t function with this volatility,” I admitted.
“That’s the problem, Luna,” he said. “Are you really human? You were chosen as a vessel for Dark Caster magic. I can’t help but wonder if your existence is solely to hold the magic. If that is the case, how much of you is actually human?”
The look he gave me earlier passed over his face. I was slipping in and out of categories and I didn’t like it.
“I saw the way you looked at me earlier and I hated it. You were wondering if you should take the easy way out and destroy what’s keeping you imprisoned. There was a struggle, and fortunately, I was on the winning side of it. This time. One moment, I feel safe around you, the next, I’m not so sure.”
“I’m not sure, either.”
Did he believe that response was praiseworthy? Helping this situation in any way? He won for worst response. I didn’t attempt to hide my thoughts.
“Dominic, I need more than that. Can I trust you?”
The long, contemplative silence was worrisome.
“Dominic?”
“You don’t understand how volatile the state of human existence and the maintenance of supernaturals’ good behavior is. You live in a bubble of protection because of machinations you can’t begin to understand. I doubt you truly know how close your kind is to being exterminated or forced into servitude.” He didn’t sound duly convinced of that last part. My kind. He wasn’t thoroughly convinced I was human. And now neither was I. A shadow of humanity and peculiar duality of both worlds.
“Sacrifices must be made to maintain it. No one is precluded from it. I know you want more, and I wish I could give more. The only thing I can promise you is that I will do all within my power to keep you alive because I value your life. Know that my power is immense.”
I didn’t need the humble brag, but the tension that was clouding my mind and making it difficult to breathe eased.
“To determine whether you are truly a vessel for the magic or you only exist to be a vessel of the magic, we need to take it.”
“Then take it. Take the magic out of me. I don’t need it and I don’t want it,” I blurted.
He moved to the window, his hands shoved in his pockets, his face pensive as he stared out into the grayness of the underworld. “Luna, I don’t think you quite understand what needs to be determined. How much of your existence is predicated on the magic that dwells in you? If the magic is removed, will you continue to exist?”
“Is that the reason you haven’t shared this with your father?” I asked, inching closer to him.
“No, it’s none of his concern. As far as I’m concerned, his imprisonment is the only positive thing that has come out of this. He should relinquish his position as lord of this underworld.”
“Why?”
“Vampires hang on to their humanity for the first century or so of their lives. It’s as if they remember what it is to be human, so they act accordingly. Shifters and witches are the most human of the supernaturals and therefore show those qualities in their behavior and decisions. There’s no part of me, Helena, or our father that is human. We must work to find that humanity, to ensure that we don’t give in to our nature. As the years pass, it gets harder to care about such things. My father is at that point but doesn’t possess the awareness to step down.”
A vampire wanted to have a taste of me then attempted to coerce me into hurting myself, shifters stalked me, and the witches were ‘Team Kill Luna.’ It was hard to see them as being aligned with their humanity or occasionally tapping into it to find balance. Those judgmental opinions came to an abrupt stop once I considered the undiluted version of history, the cruelty of human existence, all the turmoil I saw in the news, and social media, which was a staunch reminder that humans weren’t in any position to cast judgment.
“He’s no longer discreet with his plans. He doesn’t want supernaturals to exist—or rather, those who can challenge him. He wants servitude, and unchecked authority and power. His punishments are harsh even for the most minor infractions. He chooses to kill instead of imprison. It is my understanding that Anand told you of the tenuous balance we have with the supernaturals. Establishing a working relationship with them wasn’t my father’s doing, it was mine.”
“They don’t like you, either,” I blurted. It could have been edited to be nicer, but this conversation demanded candor.
He smirked and shrugged. “I don’t care if they like me. It’s better if they don’t, then they’re not disappointed when I’m cruel. Make no mistake.” His eyes darkened as he presented the minatory part of him, the part he managed to suppress when he was with me. But it was a blunt reminder of what and who he was and for me to never forget his capabilities.
“He is more powerful than I am and relies on the brute force of his power. My attempt to take the throne failed, but I will dethrone him because tactical maneuvering and patience are qualities and skills my father doesn’t possess. If he did, he would have dethroned my grandfather through clever machination rather than waiting until my grandfather was weakened by the spell he used to capture the shades.”
No wonder they were reluctant to use the magic from the Book of Umbra , if the cost was weakening them enough to leave them vulnerable.
“Taking the throne is?” Part of me knew what it meant to take the throne, and it definitely involved violence. I just wasn’t sure if it was to the extent of murder. Was it acknowledging defeat and relinquishing the throne, or a darker variation?
“My grandfather was killed. It was warranted,” Dominic said matter of factly. Not a hint of mourning. “He didn’t care that the shades were violent chaotic beings. He just wanted them to be his violent chaotic beings. If he had succeeded, the world you’re aware of, where the supernaturals are in the shadows, wouldn’t exist. They’d be gone and you all would be at the whims of my grandfather and his army of creatures. Despite there being only fifty shades, they can cause a great deal of trouble.”
“If they take on human form?—”
“Take a human body,” he corrected. “They can’t take on human form. What you saw is what they look like in your world, too. They are intelligent and pragmatic, which adds to their level of danger. In a human body, they wouldn’t be perceived as the threat they are.”
“What happens to the human?”
“They become a shell to host the shade. When they take a human’s body, they’re subjected to human frailty. They won’t age, but they are easier to kill. With magic like theirs, getting to the point of killing them becomes harder. They’re known to discard the shell to guarantee their survival. If my father figures out how to control them, he’ll want the same. This world isn’t enough for him. He wants yours, too. He’d use the shades and other supernatural sycophants to subjugate the ones with the highest population.”
Dominic had told me of the numbers and how so many of the supernaturals had infiltrated a significant part of our world. I just wanted to go back to my simple life, but I feared there wasn’t any going back to simple. Because now I knew too much.
I made no effort to hide how troubled I was, and Dominic took the cue. In his eerie strike of movement, he’d picked up the book he let fall to the floor and returned it to its position next to the others.
“Are you willing to let me attempt to take your magic away?”
“Is it safe?”
He gave me a wary half smile. “I think so.”
I’d like more surety, but when it came to magic, that was impossible.
“Let’s try.”
He opened the book and flipped over a few pages until he got to the one with the worrying-looking sigils. He reviewed it. “This isn’t one of the stronger spells, so it shouldn’t leave my magic vulnerable.” Taking my hand, he used the ink to mark my palms with identical markings from the book. When he picked up the knife, I sucked in a breath. The razor-sharp edge would ensure it would cut with the slightest touch to my skin.
“Can’t we use a strand of hair?” I joked in an attempt to calm my nerves. It didn’t help.
“It will be fine.” He kissed the tip of my finger. When he nipped at it, a shudder ran through me. He knew the effect he had on me. He dropped my finger, moving closer, his unoccupied hand grazing my lips, sliding down my neck, easing over my collarbone, over my chest, and teasing my nipples. They responded to the languid featherlight touch. I started panting softly, and my eyes went to his lips, wanting to feel them over the delicate area. To tease, kiss them, and touch me the way he did when he’d searched my body for markings.
“Just one prick. I promise to be gentle,” he told me in a low, sultry voice that promised more than gentle touches.
I jerked back with a sneer. “Stop doing that! You’re making me associate magic with inappropriate things.”
“Luna, I can assure you sex and magic is quite appropriate.”
“Just do it,” I pressed, trying to break the association he was trying to get me to make. Nope. Magic was complex, violent, powerful, and the root of most of my problems. I wouldn’t let one source of it being wrapped in a sexy, dark, sensual package make me forget that.
Chuckling at the sheer determination I was displaying, he took my hand. I blurted, “No touches. No kisses. No rough breathy instructions with sexual innuendos. Let’s just magic.”
He moistened his lips. “Of course, Luna, let’s magic,” he said, breaking all the damn guidelines I’d just put in place. Pointing to the orb, he said, “This will hold the magic. It won’t be able to be used but at least it’ll be out of you.”
“Why didn’t you do this before when Peter used me to free the prisoners?”
“Peter is quite skilled at misdirection. Before, I thought it was the marking on your hand only and the spell. It would have slipped my notice if he hadn’t cloaked your identifier.”
“Birthmark.”
He frowned. “I don’t know if it’s a birthmark. I’ve explored every inch of you,” he said, giving me a look that probed at the memory of that, “and there’s a lighter discoloration on your right thigh. I believe that’s your birthmark.”
I eyed the small orb. “If that gets broken, what happens to the magic?”
“It’ll be released. I’d like to take it, but I’m not sure if I can hold it. Witches can’t steal my magic. It’s incompatible. The same happened with you. You thought you couldn’t hold witch magic. That wasn’t the case. The Tenebras magic was dormant and it was warring with the witch magic.”
Growing silent, I contemplated trying the magic, seeing if I could wield it for my benefit, essentially. But doing so would undeniably catapult me into the world I desperately wanted to escape. Curiosity got the best of me.
“I want to try a spell—to see.”
He nodded. Opening the drawer to his desk, he pulled out a book. “Let’s try something simple,” he suggested, pointing to a spell.
It didn’t seem simple. To them, maybe. It appeared to be a transfer spell, moving an object from one place to another in the room.
“Does size matter?” I asked.
“I don’t know, does it matter to you?” he teased.
I glared. “Remember the guidelines.”
“Of course, Luna.” The low rumble of his words told me he had no intention of complying.
“The object’s size. Does something small require less effort?”
He shook his head. Magic, like anything, seemed easy when a person had mastered it. I decided to try something small. Moving the jar of ink. Looking at the spell, I said the words, then looked at my target, commanding its compliance to move to the other side of the table. It gave me the middle finger. After five more attempts, I gave up. I wasn’t sure why Dominic had me attempt more spells, but in the end we discovered that I couldn’t control elements, calm him or myself, or use defensive or offensive magic. I wasn’t going to knock him down or pin him to the wall with magic. Nor could I protect myself from magic with a ward. We even dabbled in seeing whether I could grow claws. Nothing. My sole purpose for magic was to be a vessel, from where magic could be pulled by others to be used by them. That wasn’t a good feeling, like a sordid violation.
“Now what?” I asked, plopping onto the luxurious pebble-color leather tuxedo sofa, which looked more comfortable than it felt. Rigid and practical like the rest of the minimalist room. There wasn’t any décor on the walls. Not even a task light, but when you can call light at will, it wasn’t necessary. His large, plain black desk was brought to life by the brass handles on the drawer. The console, on the other side of the room, was for storage. Nothing about this room was meant for comfort or solace.
“We do the spell to remove the magic. Peter won’t have a well to pull from, and hopefully it will make the spell he’s using to imprison us null.”
And without me as a source of magic for him, I would no longer be any use to him.