He began to argue with her, but she forestalled him with a hand, her injured one. “No. It is not time for you to die. I’m not ready to give up—and you didn’t kill Ottavio. I did.”
Dropping to one knee he took her hand. “Isabella, you don’t have to lie to spare my feelings. I remember everything I did. This time the memories are as clear as if they were my own.”
Her hazel eyes stared at him seriously. “I know that, but you failed to grasp one important detail. The man you pulled off me and beat until his head split open was already dead.” She looked away. “I guess I learned from my experience with your demon. I didn’t mean to kill him. Not at first.”
He wasn’t aware that he was gaping at her until she leaned over and pushed his mouth closed with a delicate white finger under his chin.
“Are you sure?” he whispered.
“Yes,” she nodded slowly and reached for his hand. “Come lie down with me. I want you to hold me.”
He bowed his head, his forehead touching hers. How is it she always managed to undo him so easily?
“Anything. Anything you want.”
With a hand on his cheek, she drew away from him and gave him a small sad smile. “I want you to live.”
Her words hit him like a body blow, making it hard to catch his breath. But his witch didn’t give him time to dwell. She took his arm and led him to the bed. They lay down together, and she curled against his chest. There was nothing sexual about their embrace this time. It was about comfort.
“It was awful, what it did,” she said eventually.
“What I did.”
“No, what it did. I—I may have found a way to be rid of it. Possibly. I’ve been improvising, adapting a ritual that will cure you. It involves a purge and a cleansing fire. The curse needs to be burned away at the root and your aura sealed so nothing gets back in.”
Matteo tensed. Isobel peeked up at him from underneath her lashes, her skin almost luminescent in the afternoon light. Slowly she stroked his chest with her pale white fingers.
“That’s wonderful news mi tesoro.”
Her hand fisted in his shirt. “It will be very painful. More painful than you can possibly imagine. And if I do it wrong, you may not survive.” She snorted slightly. “I do want you to live, more than anything. But I might be the one killing you after all.”
He squeezed her tighter. “If that’s my fate, I accept it. I’ll never be anything but grateful to you.”
Isobel rested her head on his chest. “I don’t want your gratitude. I just want you.”
Despite everything that had just occurred, the world was suddenly a bit brighter.
“Well, thank you anyway...for letting me love you. Even if it’s just for a little while.”
***
Being secretive was becoming second nature to Isobel.
She kept Matteo out of the ritual preparation, despite his insistence on helping. Though she believed that the demon couldn’t know what it didn’t witness, the deeper integration of the incubus into the fabric of his being was worrisome. She had no way of knowing how intelligent it was and didn’t want to take any chances on alerting it to their plans. It knew too much already.
But she now knew something about it too. While it enjoyed her body, it abhorred her blood. It had reacted badly when it came into contact with a few drops after the attack in the conservatory. Either it had been driven away by some property in the blood, or the blood had hurt it in some way.
Which was why she was altering the ritual and not telling Matteo. If he knew the true extent of the danger, he would never cooperate.
It was something her grandmother had told her once. Blood magic meant sacrifice, sometimes your own. Adding her blood to the ritual tied her to it inextricably. If she couldn’t control the fire in the purge, it wouldn’t just consume Matteo. It would claim her too…
The Conte was being kept in the dark, as well. Matteo was his only heir and in spite of his pompousness and selfishness, the man did love his son.
If Aldo saw Matteo in pain, he would interfere and jeopardize all of their work. For this reason, Isobel decided not to confide in Nino either, even though she would have appreciated his assistance. However, when it came right down to it, she didn’t know if his regard for her was enough to overcome his loyalty to his employer.
She was alone in this.
At least that’s something you’re used to.
Chapter 26
A hand on Matteo’s forehead roused him from a deep sleep. It always took him so long to wake, even though he knew it was Isobel doing the waking. It was always her. No one else ever dared to touch him.