Page 23 of A Hint of Darkness

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Page 23 of A Hint of Darkness

“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.




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