Page 54 of A Dangerous Bargain

But I know it’s him. There’s no mistaking his scar. Elisabetta threw the rock in anger, and then broke down sobbing when she saw the blood. Niccolo took her on his lap and showed her the cut and reassured her that it was an accident: Look, see how it was heart-shaped and becoming a mark of her love?

He’s angry and pretending not to know you, an awful voice whispers. You deserve this. This is your fault.

I need to go back. I need to apologize and beg him to return to us. He can ignore me all he wants, but Mamma and our sisters will need him when I’m gone. I half stand, ready to leave right then.

Except… if he is angry, why would he still wear the ring I gave him? Why keep it at all?

“What if he’s not angry or ignoring you?”

Leonardo’s question stops me. I didn’t realize I’d spoken aloud. I also didn’t realize he’d slipped into my room like a flea-ridden cat.

I whirl on him, scowling. “Shouldn’t you be working on our painting?”

“Last I heard, it was a group project.”

“I’m sick.”

He sits cross-legged on the floor. “Looks fatal. Shall I summon the priest?”

Must he make me spell it out? “I want to be alone.”

He has so many smiles, they could be their own language. This one says I’m full of shit. “No, you don’t.”

If he’d asked if he could be here, I would’ve said no. But the fact that he’s already here… it’s like setting down my brush when it’s too dark to paint anymore. A break I didn’t want, but one I needed.

“If my brother’s not ignoring me, then what do you think he’s doing?”

Leonardo tips his head and taps the black mark on his wrist. “I think he made a bargain and gave up a memory for it.”

A bargain. Of course. I collapse on my bed and release a long breath. “But the only people who can make bargains are in workshops and the Florentine families blessed with their own… demons.”

It feels odd to call them demons still, even if that’s what they are.

Odder still that Niccolo would make a memory bargain with one. When I came home from Verrocchio’s workshop with my first mark, he’d given it a long, dark look and begged me to be careful. He didn’t like the thought of me giving up my life for magic, even if it was just a day or week. His grim expression didn’t change when I said it was expected, that all the other artists did it too.

Leonardo tugs his bottom lip thoughtfully. It’s stained with the faintest brush of deep purple, the same color as in the Medici wedding portrait. I scrape my tongue along the back of my teeth and shove away the memory of how his plush lip felt under my thumb when I almost kissed him.

How it looked when he asked me if I wanted to open a workshop with him.

What did he mean by that?

I desperately want to know, but I’d rather swallow paint than ask. He was probably jesting. I was upset and he needed me to stop bawling in public like a child. He’s my co-conspirator. All right, fine, a friend. A distressingly attractive friend, but still. There is no future for me, and I need to focus on what’s important. I can’t be distracted by him. I won’t—

“… could be hidden. What do you think?” He stops talking with a bright, expectant look.

Sod it all to hell! A mouth has no business being that distracting.

“Something on your mind?” Leonardo asks lightly when I stay silent.

I force my gaze up, making dedicated eye contact and everything. “No. ’Tis a lot to consider, that’s all.”

His mouth curls. “I said we’ve been told demons can only make bargains with the people they’re bound to, but how do we know if that’s true? Your brother could have a hidden bargain mark.”

That’s not a half-bad theory.

“We could bribe his valletto and ask if he’s got any,” Leonardo says.

I frown. Asking the person who dresses my brother questions about his body feels wrong. “Won’t that seem… odd?”