Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
W hen Dominic sat up, so did I. We’d had our sexy distraction; now work needed to be done. His hand running through his mussed hair, disheveling it more, was a reminder of the shambolic situation.
He got out of bed and snatched up his underwear and put them on. I did a quick scan of the room for my discarded clothing before remembering some were somewhere in his office.
“There has to be another way to nullify that magic. Pulling it from you to do so needs to be the last resort,” he said, holding up his hand to stop my response. “I know you said you could handle it, and if there aren’t any other options, then we will try it again. But if it felt as torturous as you looked during the spell, I question how likely you are to survive it. Those spells always come at a cost and often they’re not worth the benefit. We have no idea how entwined the magic is to your existence, so finding an alternative is best.”
The thought that I might die had crossed my mind as the spell ravaged through me, but I thought the pain had made things seem worse than they were. Dominic was looking at me again, with a strange, considering probe. “How did you go unnoticed for so long?” he mused.
He knew the answer to that; the question he really wanted answered was how did Peter resist using me for that long? I could only speculate that all the times I considered Peter just a peculiar, observant patron, he was watching me to see if I was the type of person who’d unwittingly help him. Knowing that my predictability aided him was annoying. If I’d left the ring or never picked up the book. Ignored him at Wine Down Thursdays. Or at the very least known to check the ring for things or body conduits, then I could have stopped this. But Peter likely had plenty of backup plans.
“He’s doing this because he feels wronged. You ‘got rid of them.’” Their innocuous-sounding word for hunting down and destroying a population. “This is him retaliating.”
“They were destroyed because they were ruthless, violent, powerful, and unable to be reasoned with. Their demise was inevitable,” Dominic said with a brutal edge in his voice.
“And could he say the same of you?”
He didn’t give my question a lot of consideration before answering. “Perhaps. If I’m driven by violence and ruthlessness without the ability to see reason. Or become so single sighted in my thirst for power that I need to be handled. So be it. That will be my fall.”
Should I be impressed or repulsed by his candor? I was mostly confused by the welcoming acceptance of violence and death. The only thing I could do was make sure their casual use of it remained in the confines of the supernaturals’ world and didn’t spill into ours—and we become victims of it. I felt that was my duty, despite the revelation that had me oscillating between human and other. It was a precarious place to be.
“You aren’t concerned about my relationship to the shades?” I asked, trying to get more information about my otherness, especially since Dominic hadn’t taken his probing eyes off me.
He shook his head. “The attack was to see if your magic could be used to free them. In their shadow form, they are ineffectual.” That anger he demonstrated when he demanded to know the assailant of the attack resurfaced, forcing his lips into a rigid frown. “To prevent them making another attempt to free themselves. You’ll stay away from them from now on, and on your return visits, we’ll have to erect a ward.”
Return visits? I had no intention of returning to the underworld like it was a vacation destination. Vessel or not, I would divest myself of this world. I just didn’t know how to do that and keep Dominic in my life. But that was a discussion for another time. Despite the heaviness of the topic, it wasn’t chasing away my post-sex calm. My body pliant, mood somnolent.
Dominic headed for the bathroom, and I lay back on the bed, giving in to all the thoughts that came racing back into my mind.
“Now that he’s fucked you, I hope it has assuaged whatever drew him to you. Hopefully he can see what I’ve known all along. There’s nothing exceptional about you and absolutely no reason to continue to protect you,” Helena sneered from the bedroom door. I shot up with a start, securing the comforter to me, in time to see her toss my panties and bra in my direction, landing them next to the bed.
My eyes went to her exposed claws as they tapped lightly against her leg. She approached me slowly, each step measured and intentional. A predator assessing a prey, as a wrathful frown bracketed her mouth. Her turbulent emotions stifling the air had my chest pounding.
“Helena,” I said in a voice soft and nonthreatening while I scanned the room for a weapon I could get to quickly. The bedside lamp was an option. Warily, I watched her approach. If I was going to defend myself, I had one shot. I’d use the lamp to pummel her and then go for the eyes.
“Dominic and I protect each other,” she said in a hushed, rough voice. “I won’t deny that the protection has been one-sided in my favor more often. In the end, we protect our family and, indirectly, you trivial, ignorant humans with your blatant and nauseating unearned confidence and self-importance. You’re all so unaware of how quickly we could bend you to our will. Wipe you out if we chose to do so.” Her advance swallowed the distance between us. I’d have to react soon.
Despite none of the spells I’d tried earlier working, I was frantically whispering them, hoping for a fluke that would lead to one working. Toss her on her ass where I wanted her. Nothing.
“He always forgives me, covers for me. He gets irritated about it, but I’m always forgiven ,” she said with a smirk.
“Seems like he’s pretty damn tired of forgiving your bad behavior and wants you to take accountability. After all, it took you running to Daddy to get your magic back,” I snipped, foolishly poking the Princess of the Underworld.
For a moment, her beautiful features were twisted into a disfiguring scowl. The reality of her fading impunity for her actions lingered in her expression and the tense curl of her fingers at her side, the lift of her chin, and the darkening of her eyes. My comment had landed. Landed hard. More effective than any punch I could have delivered.
Her head snapped to the bathroom door where Dominic stood with a towel draped haphazardly around his waist, water dripping on the floor, his hair wet and messy.
Pools of amber submerged the flames, but there was still heat in his glare. It bored into her. Helena directed all her attention to her brother. His expression was indecipherable.
“What are you going to do, kill her?” he asked.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Make me the villain because you don’t want to break your little human toy.”
“My decision is sound. If I handle this, us being in captivity like this will never be something we have to worry about again. You kill Luna, what happens then, Helena?”
She blinked but didn’t offer a plan. It was highly unlikely she had one other than killing me: the short-term solution. Although I wasn’t sure how much I could offer toward a long-term solution.
“You want to imprison me in the Perils,” she whispered, pain and disbelief heavy in her accusation.
“No. I said once this is over, you will be held accountable for all that you’ve done. The Conventicle will be given a say in what they feel are appropriate consequences for your acts. To keep it unbiased. After all, you are my sister. I have done a lot to protect you.”
Disgust at the suggestion she’d be judged by lesser beings curled her lip. She needed to bottle this confidence because it was second-level arrogance.
“Would you have them judge you?” she countered with a sneer.
“If I’d done a fraction of what you have, then yes. You know I don’t shy away from violence or doing what would be viewed as reprehensible, when necessary. Far too often, it has been your first choice. Your only choice. It has to stop.”
Her accusing glare slipped in my direction as if I was the facilitator of this and not her bad behavior and clawing his face. As if this wasn’t a response to her extrajudicial killings, violent tantrums, unstable and poorly thought-out reactions—or rather, overreactions—to anything.
“You know they’ll want me imprisoned.”
“No, they’d want you sentenced to death. I will persuade them to sentence you to prison.”
“Or we do as we’ve done in the past, ignore their desires?”
“No, that’s what you have done. Until…” His indecipherable expression broke, his brow cocked, a gentle reminder of why they had to surrender their judicial position to the Conventicle. Her violent rampage.
There was a long contemplative silence. “You’ve shown weakness too often. Father has noticed as well. I’ll leave him to handle things.” Her disappointment showed when she didn’t get any other response than his stoicism. Helena’s departure was just as quick and unobtrusive as her arrival.
“I have to worry about her, don’t I?”
He shook his head, although I had no idea where that confidence came from. “My sister is a lot of things. Even at her most impulsive and cruel, she still manages to be as calculating and tactical as she’s accused me of being. We aren’t very different. She’s trying to determine the manner in which I’ll take the throne. If Areleus relinquishes it to me on amicable terms, then with respect for his previous rule and gift, I’ll take his counsel into consideration. She’ll remain loyal to my father, because he can be of use. If I take the throne forcibly, she’ll snatch her loyalty from him. Because I will be making all the decisions of the underworld. All. Ultimately be the sole decider of her fate.” He sighed. “She’s my sister.”
He loved her, but I remained unconvinced he liked her.
“Do you think you’ll obtain the throne amicably?” Nothing about his interaction with his father showed amicability was an option.
“I love my father.”
His shifty response only left me with more questions. Did he really love his father? I saw hints of his struggle dealing with his sister. Compassion fatigue, frustration, and disappointment. None of those emotions were present when he dealt with his father. Was it comparable to the way we’re instructed to love that odd cousin who shows up for the family reunion every five years? You love them because of the familial link and societal indoctrination. Love your family, your entire family. They’re blood. Even if you have no more connection or knowledge of them than of a stranger sitting near you in a restaurant.
“If it can’t be handled amicably?”
“Then I have to kill my father,” he tossed out before returning to the bathroom.
After we’d both showered and dressed, I expected to have a new perspective and not be bothered by Dominic’s admission of possible patricide. In need of something to take my mind off that, I was more than happy when Dominic said he had to study the spellbooks without distraction. Since I couldn’t read the language of any of them to be of any help, I gladly accepted his suggestion to call for Anand. So much so that it didn’t bother me that he showed up in front of Dominic’s office door just moments after I called him.
Moving in double-time to keep in step with him as he headed for the gym, I asked, “So you live in the west wing of the house?” Anand’s secretive nature made me want to know things about him that I’d never care about with anyone else.
“Yes.” He smirked at my frustration.
“You and Dominic are friends, so why do you stay so far from him?”
“How close do you live to your friends?”
“A twenty-minute drive.”
He grunted.
“That has to do with finances. I’d love to live closer but there wasn’t anything in my price range when I was looking.”
A look passed over his face. Obviously, they never experienced any limitations due to money. What a peculiar way to live.
“I like my privacy,” he said.
“Really, you mean the man who answers questions like he’s protecting government secrets likes privacy. I never would have suspected it,” I teased.
He stopped. Head canted to the side, he gave me an evaluating look that lasted long enough for me to feel the weight of his scrutiny. “I get it,” he announced finally. “It’s not just you being the puzzle Dominic needs to solve, you’re the mascot for humanity that makes it easy to fight for their existence.”
“Mascot.” I frowned.
“Not in a bad way. You’re caring, adaptable, a champion for your people—not just the ones you know but those you don’t—and you’re seemingly innocuous.”
“Innocuous as in weak.” I sighed at the thinly veiled insult.
“Not at all. One of the problems with our world is that there aren’t many facets of strength.”
I never got the impression that any of them wanted to be human or even respected humans, but apparently there were aspects of being human that they did want. I suspected very few aspects, but the desire existed, nonetheless.
He gave me a half smile. “The human mascot should live,” he said. They had a thousand books in the library, worn from use, and he was probably responsible for some of the wear, yet ‘human mascot’ was the best he could do. It didn’t bother me. I launched at him and gave him a hug, which shocked both of us. The stress was getting to me.
Stumbling back, I covered my mouth. “Sorry. Cabin fever.”
“No worries. I don’t like being locked in here, either.”
That was an obvious understatement. He was buckling under it, and all the time he spent in the gym was an attempt to stave it off. As was wanting to train with me. It was a distraction. Still, he knew that killing me would free him, and yet he wanted me alive.
My time with Anand was more enjoyable than I would have expected. He was still a miser with information and words. Most of the questions I posed went unanswered or given the tersest response imaginable. He managed to stay stolid and a focused instructor until we transitioned to learning kicks. I followed his demonstration, and he seemed as surprised as I was that I needed less demonstration with them than I did with punches and strikes. There seemed to be more skill needed to execute them and prevent injury.
His stolid demeanor was being challenged as his lip twitched in an effort to refrain from laughing.
“Yes, I just kicked him in his imaginary berries,” I touted proudly. “Your instructions were to make it hurt. I did. I can tell you from experience, kicking someone in their man giblets hurts. And it makes the exact point I need to make.”
He tossed his head back in a howl of laughter. A hoarse strained sound. I was convinced he didn’t do it often. “Now, do it with punches,” he said. “Jabs and uppercuts.”
So I did. After two lessons, I knew I’d never be able to hold my own with the likes of Anand or anyone else, but it was a confidence booster. Adrenaline and determination to do the best I could chased away all thoughts of Dominic not giving me the opportunity to quiz him about patricide being an option. A very real option.
Plus, what were Dominic’s thoughts about me? Did I exist only for the magic? When did that happen? My mother gave birth to me, I knew that. There were pictures. My dad had a ton of stories about the pregnancy. And my brother. Was he a vessel, too? Could he be in danger? Before I could stop it, I was spiraling. My strikes hit harder into the body opponent bag, and when I placed a haphazard kick in its chest, ignoring all Anand’s teachings, he placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Take a break,” he said and handed me a bottle of water. Taking it, I plopped on the mat and every emotion I had been suppressing rushed in with a vengeance. Flooded with a sense of despair, I drew my knees up and tried to breathe. Ease the morbid feeling of impending death. Wishing I could do it all over again and leave the book where it was and never give it an opportunity to use me as a conduit. Deny Peter the gift of finding me. I wouldn’t have met Dominic, but what would I have missed? Great sex, flirting with a handsome man who gives me hot and cold messages. Right now it’s hot. He wants me alive. Claims he’ll do whatever he can to protect me. But will that promise stand if there aren’t any options? Even so, I stay here in the underworld until when? I die. They are immortal, but I’m not.
Panting uncontrollably, my hand shook too much to hold the water. Anand was next to me, taking it from me and capping it.
“Magic is entropic. It has always been and is the reason supernaturals don’t like interspecies breeding.” He flashed a wayward smirk at my response to his clinical description of having children. “The same with spells. Even people skilled at magic weaving make mistakes, because creating a spell from others can be like making a bomb with unstable ingredients. It’s the reason tried-and-true spells are usually used. People don’t use the archaic spells as much because there’s always the question of what will be lost in translation. I’ve seen spells go bad with deadly consequences. And I’ve witnessed miraculous results from spells that many were too afraid to try. Those, mostly with Dominic. He’s not feared for the things he’s capable of but because he’s resourceful and he rarely fails. I’ve known him all my life and I’m fully aware of what he’s capable of.”
“I was there when he entered the Conventicle’s meeting. They don’t just fear him. They don’t seem to like him.”
Anand shrugged. “That’s because he’s also an asshole.”
“They didn’t seem to like you, either,” I pointed out with a teasing nudge.
“I’m one, too.” The audacity. I needed just a tenth of it, I thought as I wiped away the tears that streamed down my face. Some from laughter but most from relief.
I gave Anand an appreciative smile as I stood up. “Ready.”
“Yes, but don’t kick my body opponent bag in his nonexistent—” He stopped for a moment. “Good and Plenty’s,” he added.
Nodding, I tossed my water in the corner. “Why? You having sympathy pains from hearing about it?”
“Definitely.” He started toward the body opponent bag, then his head jerked and he turned his head toward the door, alerted to a sound that I definitely couldn’t hear. Maybe the wind or something. When he sprinted out the door, I was feet behind him, unable to keep pace with his preternatural speed. I only caught up when he stopped at the entryway of the home where Nailah, the Seer, stood.