Page 11 of A Hint of Darkness
Anand approached her but her eyes remained fixed on me. It wasn’t until he was just a hair’s breadth from her that she dragged her attention to him. Removing the expression from her face, she became a blank landscape.
“I saw it all,” she said. “It needs to be addressed.” The threat of violence was heavy in her voice. She lunged for me and he drew her closer to him, his fingers threading through the ends of her loose curls, his touch familiar but not intimate. There was an obvious connection that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I hoped I wasn’t witnessing a budding relationship. Anand, you can do better than the psycho-princess of the underworld.
“Don’t,” he urged. “Your impulsivity hasn’t worked to your advantage in the past.” Releasing his hold on her hair, he gently gathered her hands in his and looked at the markings on her arms.
She looked at them as well. “Speak to my brother. Show him the errors of this.”
My heart was pounding at the prospect of being confined with a Helena with access to her magic and claws.
He shook his head. “I won’t because I agree with his decision,” he admitted.
Helena’s eyes sharpened to daggers. There wasn’t any doubt that if she had access to her claws, he would have been introduced to them. Her lips drew back in a sneer and she yanked her hands from him, ripping away any tenderness that existed between them.
“I get things done!” she snapped.
“Yes, you get a lot of things done. You managed to get entire covens to turn against you because of your inability to choose any other option than violence when you feel the tiniest insult. You had the uncanny ability to leave a pack in shambles because you couldn’t handle being cheated on. So, your over-the-top response was to kill anyone in that pack you suspected was the culprit. Do you understand the problem you caused with that tantrum? The situation should have been handled differently and left between you and the man you were involved with. I say this not out of cruelty but compassion. You have become your worst enemy because you’ve lived too long with impunity. This is just punishment. And if your magic is never returned to you, it is a punishment long overdue.”
“I reacted to us having a fight. His response was an overreaction,” she challenged.
“No, his response was holding you accountable and letting you suffer the consequences. It only looks like an overreaction when you aren’t used to being held to such things.”
Turning away from her, he started back in my direction. It was a display of bravery I didn’t possess. An angered Helena who hadn’t gotten her wishes was a person I would want to keep an eye on. Jerking her sharp glare from Anand, she placed it on me, sending a shiver of fear up my spine. Straightening, I made a show of bravado that I didn’t actually possess.
Helena shuddered with the effort to not react. She was reduced to seething with her hands clenched at her sides. Probably a first for her and a duplicitous attempt to demonstrate restraint and prove Anand wrong about her magic.
“You saw the way the shades responded to her,” Helena called after him once we were heading toward the house.
He halted briefly but remained silent. He was just as concerned as she was.
“It will be addressed.”
“With the exception of you, Father has no tolerance for magical anomalies,” she threatened.
He’d surely learn about me being an anomaly. I was going to meet the Lord of the Underworld. I reined in the fear, but it became my single focus as I made my way back to the bedroom.
5
After removing the claw-ripped shirt, I discovered Anand hadn’t been attempting to keep me from panicking by minimizing the severity of the cut. It really wasn’t that bad. Once I applied pressure to stop the bleeding and cleaned it off, there was just a red line on my stomach. If Anand hadn’t intervened, it could have been so much worse. I knew that. Thoughts of the danger were constant as I navigated through the house to the main library and the magic room, where I could review the spells. The only way to chase the thoughts away was to be proactive. I had to do something.
Despite my attempts to not think about the shades, I fixated on their enigmatic pull to me and what had them swarming around me, maintaining a form that they typically weren’t able to maintain.
My belief that there was nothing magical about me was renewed by the ache from my injury. If magic existed in me, it would ease my pain, surely. But there was no use applying logic to an illogical world.
The shades were drawn to me for my lack of magic in the same way the magic room in the library repelled me. I felt the room’s rejection as soon as I neared it. It was a nudge, shooing me away. For a moment, I considered taking the hint. I could stay in the main library and appreciate the many first editions, take in the beauty of the leatherbound books and peruse the vast selection, inhale the scent of vellum and run my fingers over the gilded emboss on some of the books I’d passed. But that wasn’t going to get me out of the underworld.
Determined to be allowed entry, I pushed against the repelling magic until my hand reached the door handle. The handle turned, but the door wouldn’t budge.
“Please,” I whispered to the door. That’s about right. I’m pleading with a room to grant me entrance. Not weird at all.
“I just want to go home,” I pled, my voice low, aware of the dark-skinned man with low-cut hair and round-rim glasses that he moved to the tip of his nose in order to scrutinize me. His attire—crisp white shirt, blue herringbone vest with matching slacks—made me feel underdressed in my t-shirt and leggings. There was judgment in his look, which I ignored, going back to trying to get into the room, shoving my hip against the door to barge my way in. The room remained resolute in its denial.
When I added more force, it responded by tossing me back a few more feet. Once I regained my footing, I approached the door again and pressed my forehead against the cool wood. “I just want to look at your books. I will treat each book with the utmost respect, I promise.”
A pledge that didn’t cause it to waver.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You know me. Let me in the damn room,” I scolded through clenched teeth.
This was a new low. Fighting with a sentient room for entrance. The door remained closed. Removing the anger from my voice, I tried requesting again. It denied my request.