The Isis Collar

no fit condition to be seeing him when he was looking like he walked out of an issue of GQ magazine. “No, you look good. Great, in fact. I look like the walking dead.”

He shrugged with one shoulder and crossed the room to where I was sitting. “So maybe I like the walking dead. At least one of them.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against my cheek. It felt nice. Safe and comfortable—vastly different from John but no less desirable. Just to prove a point to myself, I turned my face slightly and pressed my lips against his. Flames of magic rolled across my skin, more powerful than John’s but with a different … taste. I lingered there, remembering old times when a kiss was often the beginning of something much more intense. Bruno let me kiss him, not making it more than it was. I moved my jaw, opening his mouth, and touched his tongue with mine.

When I pulled back first, I noticed the surprised look in his eyes. Not upset, just surprised. I suppose it was natural for him to be confused, because I sure was. “I … I’m not sure why I did that.”

“Old habits die hard?”

My breath came out in a frustrated rush. “No. It’s not like that. It’s just that—” I had nothing. I had no idea why I’d kissed him, while I was still feeling the hurt he’d inflicted.

He sat down across from me and stared at me for a long moment. “It’s just that you kissed Creede earlier today and needed to prove to yourself, and maybe to me, that you’re being fair?”

My jaw dropped. Literally. I could feel air on my tongue. My mouth started moving, but no words came out until, “It’s … I mean … we—”

“Celia.” His voice was calm. “It’s okay. I’m not going to fly into some sort of jealous rage. I could taste his magic on you, could sense where he’d touched you.” He lifted one shoulder. “I know he has his sights set on you. It’s not like it’s a surprise.”

My stomach felt hollow, yet it threatened to heave up into my throat. “I’m not trying to hurt you.” The words were a whisper and my gaze was fixed on his neck. “I’d never do that.” Shades of John’s promise to me. Crap.

“Celia.” His voice was soft. He leaned forward until his elbows were resting on his knees. “I’m the one who hurt you. I know that and there aren’t enough words in the language to describe how sorry I am. I’m not even sure how to make it up to you. I think I need to get my head back together to figure it out. So I’m in the field instead of in the office. I’m getting back in shape and getting my doctorate.”

“And I’m so excited for you. You’ve talked about that since we graduated.”

He smiled and his expression was filled with pride and hope. “The land the Murphys own in Arkansas and the fee-simple magic attached to it was a doctoral thesis topic if I ever saw one, and they’ve been kind enough to grant me permission to visit whenever I need to. So I signed up for a year right here at USC-Bayview and I’m getting to work.”

“I still can’t believe you’re going to be in Santa Maria de Luna for the whole year.” I was really happy for him. He was never more him than when he was studying and learning new things. “God, that’s incredible. And you got accepted into the doctoral program already?”

He nodded. “I know it’s quick. But Warren sponsored me and the Board of Trustees agreed, provided Dr. Sloan would be my advisor. I wasn’t positive he’d do it because he’s so close to retirement.” He grinned and it looked good on him. “But he said yes.”

The grin was infectious and I found myself smiling right back at him. “So I guess I’ll be seeing you around town.”

“Yes, yes, you will. Just so you know, I turned down Duke to come back to our alma mater. In fact, several colleges started calling me once they learned about the Murphy tract and that I had exclusive permission. But I wanted to be here. Not New Jersey, not Arkansas or Maryland. Here.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes did. They deepened somehow and the flames I remembered so well flickered and flared. They moved from mage to male and made parts of my body tighten with memories of his touch.

“Um. That’s—”

“DeLuca?!” Dr. Sloan’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Aren’t you coming? You didn’t follow me.”

Bruno chuckled when I did and sharing the laughter felt good. He stood, then reached out to help me to my feet, but I got up awkwardly and my right leg gave out. Bruno grabbed my arm and kept me standing.

“You okay?”

I shook my head. “My leg’s been bothering me since the bomb in the school.”

Crap. I shouldn’t have said that. I could tell from his reaction that he didn’t know what I was talking about. How could he? I doubt it had made the papers back east. His eyes went wide, then narrowed suspiciously. “Bomb? School? What the hell, Celia.” He looked at my leg and sucked in a sharp breath. “What attacked you? That looks bad. Have you had a healer look at it?”

I looked down but only saw the denim of my jeans. “Only a dozen or so. I’ve been to doctors, specialists, and witch doctors. None of them can figure it out. What are you seeing that they haven’t? The latest one thinks there’s a spell on me, but I don’t know if they’re connected.”

He knelt down next to my leg, moving one of the chairs out of the way in order to put both hands on my calf. Dr. Sloan walked in the door just then, followed by Rizzoli. His brows rose so high it looked like his bushy eyebrows were a toupee and I felt I had to explain. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Bruno didn’t even look up. “This is bad, Celie. I mean like killing you bad. What is this?”

“That’s a very good question, Mr. DeLuca,” Rizzoli interjected. “What do you think it is? None of our Bureau people have a clue.”

“Joh … Creede is working to unravel whatever’s attacking my aura around my head. Is the problem with the leg the same thing?”

Bruno shook his head. “I don’t know anything about auras. Not my specialty. But this is attacking your flesh. Medical magic is what I’m good at. It could well be the same. I’d have to compare notes with … John.”

“Hey, a witch with the Bureau, Gail Jones, said top mages like you can identify the caster. Any idea who to talk to about this mess?”

He looked at me, his eyes both surprised and suspicious. “This is a spell? Wow. I pegged it as some sort of magical virus. It doesn’t feel like a spell at all.”

“Magical virus?”

Dr. Sloan nodded. “Oh, yes. The Centers for Disease Control doesn’t talk about it much, especially not in public, but there is a magical branch of the organization for viruses that mutate and bacteria that can be magically transmitted, changing from a magical event to something that can affect more than the original target.”

“Wow. That’s seriously scary. But one’s physiology and the other is … well, magic.”

Bruno let out an odd chuckle. “Magic is part of my physiology, Celie. If I caught something that backfired from a spell, it’s possible I could pass it on to family members. Even human ones. After that … well, it could take off. Like this has.” He motioned to my leg. “I think we need to call in the Centers for Magical Disease Control to take a look at you. In fact, I’d like to look at your skin myself.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “I’ll just bet you would.”

He didn’t smile in return and that made my stomach hurt. “I’ve got an ugly suspicion. But first I need to put you in a quarantine circle.” He looked at Dr. Sloan. “Could we use the lab for this? We might need the restraints.”

Suddenly I was less than excited about this idea. “What exactly do you think I’m going to do, Bruno?”

He paused and his face was set in stone to keep from showing me what he was really feeling. When he finally spoke it chilled my blood.

“Scream, Celia, if I’m right, I think you’re going to scream.”

12

I refused to scream. But I was turning the air blue with cursing and yelling. “Bruno! Stop it! I swear to God I’m going to rip your head off if you don’t let me up!” My knuckles were white from straining against the titanium restraints. The metal was bending but not enough for me to get loose. Everything looked red. It was too close to sunset for this crap. I don’t like being tied down and Bruno knew it.