What if I don’twantyou to set me free?
The thought bounced around in her head, stupid and annoying and absolutelynotgetting a say in this.
“Gabriel,” she said firmly, torn between giving in and pushing him away, wishing like hell things weren’t so damn confusing between them now.
“Yes?” he whispered, his breath warm on her lips. “You were saying? Something about me being right, I believe?”
Could they just go back to hating each other and occasionally fucking? Did it have to mean anything more than that? Did she have to crave his stupid smile and his sexy bare feet and the way she sometimes caught him staring at her, even when he was trying to act like he hadn’t been paying attention?
“Gabriel,” she said again, pressing a hand to his chest. “Maybe it’s best if we just—”
The teakettle whistled, piercing the air and shattering the supercharged moment.
“Tea!” she blurted out. “Best if we have tea.” Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she ducked out from under his arms and headed for the stove, never more grateful for the wonder of boiling water.
By the time the tea had steeped, the flirty moment had passed, both of them retreating to their separate emotional corners. The only thing she knew for sure was that neither of them had any clue how to navigate this strange territory. For all the distrust and anger still simmering between them, it was clear their attraction to each other hadn’t dimmed a bit.
But was that all it was? Intense attraction, heightened by the fact that they’d started out as enemies? That she’d blown whatever trust and friendship they might’ve built to bits?
Had there evenbeenanything to blow up—anything other than wild, mutual lust? Or had she imagined the glimpses of longing and vulnerability in his otherwise icy eyes?
And why the hell—after everything that’d happened between them, after everything he’d made clear this morning about where they stood—was her heart still drumming out a rapid-fire beat, all for him?
Gabriel doesn’t do feelings,she reminded herself.Especially not for the witch-demon who betrayed him.
Jaci needed to remember that. The past, however recent, no longer mattered. Love, lust, temporary insanity… The label wasn’t important, because whatever it was had vanished the moment she confessed her secrets.
There was no going back. Only forward, no matter how many stumbles and steps it took.
Back in the living room, they took seats on opposite ends—Gabriel on the couch, Jaci at the table. She told him about Isabelle’s books, about the research they’d planned to do together. He asked a few questions about the lore, and then, out of nowhere, “Your original plan… You said you needed my heart to bind Viansa’s powers. How would that work?”
The question caught her completely off guard. She faltered, nearly dropping her tea. “Gabriel, I’m not… I wasn’t going to. I—”
“Answer the question, Jacinda.”
Tightening her grip on the mug, she sighed and said, “Viansa is the demon who bound your curse—the dark power that ensures both its potency and its permanence. The curse runs through your blood, through your very heart, and it’s deeply connected to her magic—like, on a cellular level.”
“Okay. But I’m not quite following how the binding spell would work.”
“Are you familiar with the ancient Egyptian pantheon?”
“Somewhat.”
“The goddess Serket was associated with scorpions and other venomous creatures. The ancients believed she caused their stings, so they also called upon her in spells and rituals to heal or protect against them. Two sides of the same magical coin, so to speak.” Jaci sipped her tea. “Essentially, a connection forged by a certain magic can also be broken by that same magic when that magic is intentionally altered for a different purpose.”
“Fight like with like,” he said.
“Something like that, yes.”
“But why the heart, specifically? Why not my blood? Or a finger, for that matter? Something that wouldn’t require me to be turned into a gray.”
“Our hearts hold our very essences, Gabriel. Not only do they control the flow of blood throughout every part of our bodies, but they record the moments of our lives, beat by beat, until the moment of our death. The Egyptians knew this too. It’s why they mummified the heart but discarded the brain, thinking it a useless organ.” Jaci shook her head, shame burning through her chest. “That day, when I finally translated the message from the Tarot, it all just clicked. I realized the heart was the most powerful part of your being—powerful enough to bind an ancient demon’s powers.”
“The Tarot?” he asked with a dark chuckle. “So a deck of cards told you to kill me?”
She looked up and met his eyes, but there was no malice there. If anything, her explanations only seemed to further intrigue him.
“Not exactly,” she said. “It’s… it’s better if I show you.”
