Inferno of Darkness (Order of the Blade #8) by Stephanie Rowe Page B

placed her hand on his jaw. "Dante, there's so little beauty that exists. So little warmth. So little kindness. What you just gave me, I'll treasure for all my existence. It will give me the power to keep my heart open no matter how much darkness consumes me, no matter how much pain takes me."
    Dante frowned at her words. "Elisha, I'm not the brightness. It's you."
    She laughed softly. "It can't be me—"
    "In my world, you are."
    She sighed as she trailed her finger over the runes on his arm. "Then your life must have been as dark as mine."
    Dark anger rolled through Dante at the thought of Elisha experiencing the kind of life he'd had, and all his peacefulness vanished. "Shit, woman, you deserve more than my life."
    "As do you. You've been through so much," she mused softly.
    A foreign sensation drifted through him, a sense of connection that unsettled him. He wasn't sure whether he was irritated that she'd seen his truth, or whether he liked it. "You can tell? Is it my lack of boyish charm that clued you in?"
    She raised her eyebrow at him. "Well, your foot for one thing. What happened to it?"
    His eyes narrowed, not wanting to taint her or this moment with his past. The past was an albatross, contaminating the present and stripping hope from the future. "Hangnail."
    She punched him lightly in the chest. "Seriously. It looks cursed."
    "Cursed?" Her comment caught his interest, and he looked at her sharply. "I just figured it was poisoned. I never thought of a curse. Why do you say that?"
    "Because..." It was difficult for Elisha to articulate it. She didn't have a specific reason. Now that she'd seen it close up, that had been her instinct, after all the curse damage she'd seen in her life. But maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was simply poison. Pulling out of his grasp, she sat up and gestured to his foot. "Can I touch it?"
    His eyes were dark, watching her intently. He was lounging on his back with his hands locked behind his head. His biceps were flexed and one knee was cocked, showcasing parts of him that made her body radiate with heat. His sleek, muscular body completely relaxed, yet taut with vigilant readiness. "Sweetheart, there's no part of my body that's off-limits to you after what we just did."
    "You're such a deviant." Her cheeks flushed, and she leaned forward to study his foot. The skin was blackened and charred. His foot and lower leg were twisted and mangled, as if every bone had been crushed and torn apart. She held her hand above it, and sharp pinpricks of pain jabbed into her palm. She sucked in her breath and turned her hand over. Sure enough, her hand was dotted with hundreds of microscopic marks, like malignant pin pricks. Fear rippled through her and she glanced at him. "I think it is cursed. What happened?"
    He was watching her more intently now. His pose was the same but a new level of tension was rippling through his body. "Why do you think it's cursed?"
    "Watch." She moved so she was sitting in front of him, her legs on either side of his. Carefully, she lifted his leg onto her lap.
    Dante gritted his teeth, and he bit out a curse under his breath. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
    "I know. Sorry." She laid her hands on either side of his ankle and gently opened her mind to his injury. Her fingers became translucent and melted through his flesh. He swore and his leg jerked, as if he had to fight to keep himself from pulling away.
    "You're like ice," he said.
    "It's not me," she said, as she carefully wove her fingers through his cells. "It's the damage." Slowly, ever so slowly, his foot began to shimmer and fade, becoming slightly transparent. As his skin turned the same sparkly blue of her hands, a pulsing, black shadow became visible beneath his flesh. It was moving and swirling, as if it were alive. Cold fear gripped her. "Dear God," she whispered, horrified by what she saw. "How is that possible?"
    "Jesus." Dante sat up, staring at his leg. "What's that?"
    "The black magic residue." Her