Breathing Fire

“When we found Christian, on the verge of leaving town, I snapped. Did he tell you about what happened?”

I nodded, never looking away from him.

“I tortured him relentlessly. I did it myself. There was scarce an inch of him unscathed when I was through. I sliced him to ribbons.”

That I hadn’t known. I felt a sickness deep into my soul.

“I was just so sure that he knew where you were, or at least, how to get ahold of you. And I was just as certain I could break him. And when I realized that nothing would make him talk, whether he knew or not, I came so close to killing him. You don’t understand how close. I could taste his severed jugular in my mouth. That’s how close I was to taking his life. I even wanted you to know about it, if only to make you reappear, even if it was just so you could come after me. I still don’t know what stopped me, but I think not killing him is what snapped me out of the rage I’d been living in. At least enough to function again.”

“Did you know that’s what you left behind?” he continued relentlessly. “An animal so wounded it didn’t care who it hurt. If you had known it would turn me into a monster, would you still have done it?”

I didn’t begin to know how to answer that. Though angry, he was no animal now. I couldn’t picture the things he described. Dom and self-control had always just been a fact to me. And a point of pride for him. A symbol of his power. Could I even begin to imagine all I’d taken from him when I left? I’d always thought I could. The parting had cost me, as well. I hadn’t had a moment of affectionate human contact since we’d parted. I simply couldn’t bear it. But, of course, there were some pieces of the destruction I had failed to anticipate. Like how it would make him hate himself. I had been so certain that all of the loathing, both from him and from myself, would fall squarely on my shoulders.

“I just don’t know. I felt so desperate, so powerless over the events taking place. So much of what I did was panic and instinct. And once the running starts, it’s impossible to stop. It’s a familiar pattern that’s almost a comfort to me.” My answer was quiet.

So was his response. “Get dressed and get out.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Touchy Subject

 I took a quick shower, re-donning my burnt up clothes as a last resort. If Dom had any clothes I could wear in his apartments, I didn’t particularly want to know about it, so I made a point of not asking. Most of my holsters were still intact, and I armed myself, my guns and knives now fully visible.

“Your phone’s been ringing,” Dom told me as I re-entered his bedroom. He waved in the direction of his nightstand, where my cel was sitting, miraculously unharmed by the nights violence.

I’d missed several calls from Caleb. His messages sounded borderline panicked, and I can’t tell you how good that wasn’t for my peace of mind. The gist of the messages was, “Get to Club Dante. Some shit’s going down.” He didn’t pick up when I called.

I hung up the phone, looking at Dom. He was eyeing me coldly. “I’ve gotta bounce,” I said. I paused awkwardly. “My kind has an enthrallment spell. I’ve seen humans ruined by it. It plants a pernicious, persistent devotion that holds you in it’s grip for a lifetime. I don’t have any idea if druids can be affected by it, and I was never taught the enchantment, but I wonder if I inadvertently cast it on you, when you were young.”

He laughed, and it was a bitter sound. “Wouldn’t that be handy? Any spell cast surely has a counter-spell. But no, I think not. And doesn’t that just say it all about us? Love is such a foreign concept to you that you think it must be an errant spell.”

I flinched. Talk about a jab that hit it’s mark. The sad thing was, Dom was all I knew about romantic love, and I really had tried my best to show it to him. But amidst the pain in my chest, his words also brought me the beginnings of an idea. What I wouldn’t give to have that counter spell, just to cast it on Dom to see if it had any effect. If I had somehow enthralled him, he had a right to be free. And I needed to know.

He nodded at the door, dismissing me. “Sloan will go with you.”

“Ugh. I don’t even know where my car is.”

“Sloan has a car. She can drive you.”

I glared at him. “I’m pretty sure Sloan won’t want to go where I’m going.”

His lip curled in a half-smile. “Yes, Club Dante. I heard.” There was disgust in his voice. “I don’t care what kind of sordid places you frequent. Sloan goes with you.”

I gave a little half wave as I stormed out. I knew he wanted a fight more than anything else and it wasn’t hard to figure out that having Sloan follow me around was the lesser evil.

Sloan was waiting in the antechamber, by the elevator. At my entrance, she rose from the chair she’d been lounging in. She gave me a blank face, not saying a word, just pushing the down button on the elevator. We both filed in silently.

“Any idea where I could pick up clothes this time of night for an S&M club?” I asked bluntly as the elevator began to move. I was wearing the tattered remains of my combat gear. My cargo pants still covered the essentials, but the black tank I’d worn under my armored vest was pushing it. The material that had covered my stomach had burned away completely, leaving my midriff bare. The chest area was at least covered, though the straps on the tank looked in danger of falling off.

She looked a little surprised at the question, but recovered quickly, eyeing up my tattered clothes. “What you’re wearing should work, if the club is dark enough to hide the Necro blood. That torn up, shredded look is actually kind of in right now. You need different shoes though. Some black stilettos would be better.”