Or that you were brewing a tea to prevent pregnancy. Ottavio must have learned that detail from Nino.
Nino’s eye twitched. “I’m sorry you got involved in all of this. That wasn’t supposed to happen. I thought it was just a fluke that you survived, but then it became obvious what you were. You survived because of your power. Then the demon changed. In time it would kill the son, but you delayed that. And then it looked like you were finally figuring out how to remove the curse,” he said, gesturing to the ritual circle. “Which is why I sent Ottavio to you.”
It felt like the room was spinning. Isobel felt sick. “You had him attack me?” she whispered.
Nino squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “That wasn’t supposed to happen, either! You were supposed to run away with him. Women always liked him, and he wanted you. I thought you would jump at the opportunity to escape. But you were so stupid—another fool woman. You’d already given your heart to the monster,” he spat, lowering the barrel slightly as he sneered at her.
It was the opportunity she’d been waiting for. She flew up from her kneeling position, holding the burning torch with a death grip. She swung it a Nino as hard as she could.
The blow struck him in the shoulder, making him drop the gun.
She should have expected what happened next. The fire was no normal blaze…and she was very angry. As soon as it came in contact with Nino’s clothing it exploded, running over him like a wild creature. His shriek of pain was enough to shatter glass. He fell to his knees, clutching blindly.
Isobel scrambled forward, crawling toward him. She had to try and control the fire enough to pull it away from him. But she didn’t get the chance. Nino pulled a blade from his boot and sprang up with a blood-curdling scream.
He was almost on her when he was thrown to the side. The Conte was pushing him with his forearms, kicking him hard. Nino landed face down, wheezing with a horribly wet sound. Using his booted foot, Aldo turned him over.
The blade was sticking out of his chest. He had landed on it when he fell. Aldo leaned over him, obscuring him from view.
“Matteo,” she whispered, dragging herself to her feet. Twisting, she reached for the fallen torch, but it wasn’t there.
She turned back to the circle, dismayed to find she’d disturbed her half’s salt boundary. But that wasn’t the worst thing that met her sight.
Matteo’s long arms had been enough to reach the torch. He was holding it to his chest exactly where she had, his whole body wrapped around it.
“No! Matteo, let go,” she said, falling to her feet in front of him.
Using all her strength, she tried to pry it out of his hands but he had a death grip on it.
“It’s too late,” he whispered. “Going to finish it now.” He turned to cradle the fire underneath him—out of her reach.
“No, no. Don’t do this. Please give me the torch,” she cried tearfully, stepping into his half of the circle and throwing herself on his back. She embraced him from behind and begged with a sob. “Please don’t leave me.”
He shuddered and didn’t answer as he tried to push her away. Isobel held on tighter, wrapped around his back like a limpet. Looking inside him with her other sight, she pushed down with all strength, finding the taint and directing it to the hole in his solar plexus.
The demon scrabbled inside him, tearing at Matteo’s aura as it tried to hang on. Using all of her will and every ounce of her strength, she kept going until it lost its grip and was forced down into the fire burning underneath her husband.
A rending sound filled the air. The count shifted looking around wildly for its source, but what had made the noise wasn’t visible. The painful clatter died away and Isobel’s ears popped, as if the air had shifted dramatically around them.
“Let go, my darling. It’s over. I swear it’s over. Please!” she said, rolling her husband onto his back and throwing the burning wood away.
Nausea rose up when she saw his hands and abdomen. They were a raw mass of blistered meat, black and red. The smell of cooked flesh filled the air.
Sobbing, she gathered Matteo’s large body to her as best she could, cradling him in her lap. Closing her eyes, she began to chant, trying to bind the ragged edges of his aura back together. But it had been ripped and exposed so long, it had splintered and cracked in other places. Trying to force the edges closed tore open others.
Isobel refused to let go. She covered him with her body and her mind, instinctively trying to hold him together. Giving everything she had, she clung to him, past reason and all endurance.
The world around them spun into black. She fell into the void, still holding on.
Chapter 28
Isobel cracked open an eyelid in the bright sunny bedroom. Everything hurt. She felt like she’d been passed through a meat grinder. Her aura probably had been.
A noise made her turn. It was Aldo, shifting impatiently in a chair.