Page 59 of A Touch of Brimstone

He diverted his eyes from me, moving his attention to the wall behind me as he deliberated.

“His claws are poisonous,” he eventually said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Even to us. Weakens us and mutes our magic.”

“For how long?”

“Until it’s out of our system. The last time, it was about thirty-six hours. I was unable to return home, use my magic, or fight at my normal level,” he admitted. There was a reluctance to his confession and a hitch in his voice. Was he embarrassed that he’d been clawed, or that he had vulnerabilities? It humanized him and dampened his intensity. I closed the distance between us.

My voice was low and entreating as I continued the questioning, learning more about his world. If I was forced to live in it, I wanted to know everything about it. Whatever my expression revealed to him, it caused him to relax.

“Dark Casters’ magic can affect us, even with my immunity to witches’ magic.” He gave me a knowing smirk. “But that’s information you already know.”

Well, I upheld my promise. I hadn’t revealed that I knew the information. I wondered if Nailah had confessed. Based on the self-satisfied look on his face, he was speculating and I had confirmed it.

“Go on,” I urged.

“Their spells I can break, but their magic can be used against me.”

“Some witch magic as well.”

He nodded. “Atmospheric and some elemental. If it rains, it rains on me as well. Snow, I get chilled. And if there’s a cyclone, I can be swept into it like anyone else.”

His eyes narrowed on me, searching my face. “What are you thinking, Luna?” He might not have added the “Little” to it verbally, but the taunting gleam in his eyes had.

I had a speech about how they arrived at the average and pointing out that for five-six to be the average, there had to be people significantly shorter and that there were scores of people shorter than I was. Emoni, at close to five-eleven, would just look at me with a combination of amusement and a trace of mockery, urging me on. “That’s right,” “You tell them,” “I’m with her and the Lollipop Guild.” On the opposite end of the height spectrum, Emoni didn’t seem bothered when people commented on her height.

“I thought you said I wore my thoughts on my face. You tell me.”

“I’d like to hear it from you.”

“These reveals make you seem—approachable. Real,” I admitted.

“Real?”

“Normal. Like other people.” These were all wrong descriptions. So. Very. Wrong. But telling him that he seemed less of a larger-than-life figure, insurmountable presence, or ethereal force, although true, seemed hyperbolic.

“It shows the many dimensions you have. Like everyone else.”

Self-assurance bloomed over his features, in the fire that banked in his eyes, his supple lips, and carved features. “But I’m not like everyone else.”

That was apparent.

“Can bullets and blades hurt you?”

“They hurt,” he offered in a level voice.

They hurt. Well, Prince, they hurt everyone, but will you die? “That’s nothing notable. I think they hurt everyone.”

“I’m very difficult to kill.” He leaned toward me, a hint of a warning.

It wasn’t even a fully formed thought—just a fleeting moment of me knowing I had other ways to protect myself against him and Helena. One freaking passing thought. A half thought. Not even a complete thought.

“Tomorrow, we’ll get you magic and you’ll do the spells and this should be over for you.”

“But not for you?”

He shook his head. “There are other players involved and I need to find out who they are. What their endgame is. Those people who came after us—after you—weren’t the Conventicle guards and they aren’t allies of the Awakeners. If I figure out their objective, then I’ll know how to deal with them.”

“Perhaps they’re just the ruthless arm of the Awakeners,” I tossed out but quickly added, “but that wouldn’t explain them killing Rei and the others. If they were allies, they wouldn’t have tried to kill me. If anything, they’re more aligned with the Conventicle.”

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