Possess Me Please (10 page)

The man had some explaining to do, and she was going to get answers, one way or another.

Isabelle quickly showered, put on some fresh, unwrinkled clothes, and brushed her hair back into submission before going to find Cyrus. A few minutes later she was disappointed to find that he was in the living room with Scarlett. She was happy that her hostess seemed to be feeling better, but she wouldn’t be able to question Cyrus until she could get him alone.

“Hello, Isabelle.” Scarlett held what appeared to be a glass of water in one hand and was dressed in a long, silky blue robe that was belted tightly around her waist. “Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you. How are you feeling?”

Isabelle turned toward Cyrus to find his gaze fixed on her, and she willed herself not to melt in a puddle at his feet. He smiled. She straightened her back, determined to focus her attention on Scarlett and ignore the warm tingle that started down her spine and ended low in her belly.

“It’s let up some, dear, but I’m afraid it hasn’t gone altogether. I’m a terrible host, I know, staying in bed all day while I have guests.”

Now that Isabelle looked closer, Scarlett did look pale. “If you don’t feel well, I wouldn’t expect you to be any place other than bed. Cyrus and I are adults, and are more than capable of seeing to ourselves. There is no need for you to entertain us. You’ve been kind and generous, and you’ve gone out of your way to make us feel welcome.”

Isabelle raised a brow at Cyrus, silently encouraging him to agree.

Cyrus stood, picked up a pitcher of water sitting on a serving tray, and refilled Scarlett’s glass. “I told Scarlett the very same thing only moments ago.”

“Thank you,” Scarlett replied. “It’s just that it has been so long since I’ve had guests, and this ghastly headache had to ruin it.”

“Do you have medication for your headache?” Isabelle asked.

“Yes, but it knocks me loopy. That’s why I’m always in bed when I get migraines. I should take another dose before it gets worse again. Thank you for understanding, Isabelle. You’ve done a lot for me, and now you’re stuck here in the middle of this horrible blizzard.”

“I didn’t do all that much, and it’s no burden being detained here in your beautiful house.”

Scarlett smiled before slowly getting to her feet. She thanked Cyrus and Isabelle yet again for their understanding and promised to try to make it down later for dinner. Isabelle watched Scarlett leave the room, wondering how old she actually was. The lack of the unusually heavy makeup that normally covered her face allowed many of the wrinkles and flaws in her skin to become more visible.

Isabelle took a deep breath and studied Cyrus’s body as he walked to a large window covered by heavy golden drapes. His movements were intentional, all male…predatory. She trembled when the memory of his hands on her body played through her brain.

He pushed one fabric panel aside and stared out into the still-raging blizzard. The slight bunch of his shoulders told her that he was aware she was about to rain another assault of questions on him.
Too bad
. She wanted some answers. She had slept with him, wanted to sleep with him again, but before she did, she had to know the answer to the huge secret that lay between them.

“You have to tell me,” she said.

He shrugged. “It’s still snowing.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

He let the drapes fall back into place, and watched her from under his thick lashes. “Can’t you just let it be, Izzy?”

“When I got here, you were quick to dismiss me as a fake. Yet you obviously have a few
gifts
of your own. That being said, why, I wonder, were you so quick to assume I was a fraud?”

He blew out a long breath. “Look, I told you I can do certain things, but I don’t want to discuss what, or why.”

Was he nuts? What he’d done was spectacular, unbelievable, unheard of…at least to her. “Do certain things?” she repeated. “You know damn well that what you did was extraordinary. I know for a fact that a human soul cannot leave its living body for any amount of time without that body dying. Yet that’s exactly what you did, and you are still standing here alive. How the hell did you do it?”

* * * *

Human
was the defining factor here. Cyrus’s soul wasn’t, and he could do plenty of things human souls, dead or alive, could not.

“First, that’s not entirely true, Izzy. Human souls leave their bodies all the time. Haven’t you ever heard of out-of-body experiences?”

“Of course. But I’m talking about under normal circumstances. Not when someone is comatose.”

“I saved you from the Havoc spirit. You should know, by the way, how much potential danger you are putting yourself into every time you invite something in. Just leave it alone.”

Right now, he wanted to wring her pretty neck for taking such risks, but she was stubborn, and she was going to do what she wanted, no matter what he said.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him. She genuinely wanted answers from him. Maybe he should give her some. Maybe he could give her a minimal amount of information in exchange for her safety. He just wouldn’t tell her he was a demon. He didn’t want to see her beautiful eyes cloud over with disgust, as most humans did when they found out what he was.

“Leave what alone? You mean Stephen? He’s just some miserable asshole who refused to cross over, and for some reason or other has decided to make my life a living hell once again.”

Cyrus grabbed her by the arms and shook her gently. “
Once again
?” He clenched his jaw. “Are you telling me that the Havoc has done this to you before? And yet you continue to take risks with your own life? What the hell is wrong with you? If I hadn’t been there earlier, you would have died.”

She shrank away from him. “I beat him before. I would have done it again.”

She was lying. She’d be dead right now if he hadn’t been there to jerk the Havoc out of her. Cyrus was sure she hadn’t bothered to use her anchoring potion. It would at least have provided her some sort of protection.

Izzy chewed her lip and stared at the floor. “What is a Havoc spirit, anyway?”

His muscles tensed with anger, and his breath caught at her naivety. “Are you telling me you’ve been inviting ghosts to share your body for fuck knows how long, and you have no idea what a Havoc spirit is?”

He hoped the snap of his harsh words drove home how angry he was. When she frowned at him, he continued on. “Let me fill you in. A Havoc spirit is a malicious, evil soul who has decided to take on a specific mission in the afterlife, that mission being to possess as many bodies, cause as much pain, and wreak as much havoc as possible. And I’m not talking about the kind of possession you allowed with Harry. I’m talking full-on exorcism, kill-your-vessel type possession. When one takes over your body, you die. Maybe not at that very moment, but soon enough. End of story.”

Isabelle shivered.

Cyrus’s anger was quickly replaced by the need to protect. He reached for her, pulling her to him. He stroked her soft hair and kissed the top of her head. “Hell, Izzy. I don’t know what I would have done had you died.”

He still wasn’t sure how she had survived. Her soul was stronger and brighter than that of any human he had ever seen. Still, she would not be standing here at this moment had he not happened to come along at the right time.

She stepped back out of his embrace. “That still doesn’t explain how you did what you did. Please tell me.”

Her pleading eyes nearly brought him to his knees. He almost cracked at that moment.

He couldn’t, though, damn it!

She would be appalled. He could deal with her anger, but he didn’t know if he’d survive her rejection. This tiny woman had burrowed under his skin quickly and efficiently, and he wasn’t quite sure how to cope with the intense feelings he already had for her. He had never felt this way, had never cared this much for a woman…for anyone.

“No,” he said finally. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t or
won’t
?” She retreated further. “I was beginning to care for you, despite telling myself I shouldn’t. But I can’t be with someone who lies to me.”

“Come on, Izzy.”

A lone tear pooled in the corner of her eye.

Shit
! He was such a dick for making her cry. But he wasn’t hurting her intentionally. Maybe he was being a coward, plain and simple, for not telling her.

“How about this,” he continued. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know if you promise never to invite another soul into your body.”

He was fairly certain she wouldn’t agree, but he had to try.

“I can’t promise that. That is an utterly ridiculous thing to ask of me. I help people. That’s all I’ve ever known.”

He reached out and ran his fingertips along the soft skin of her cheek. “But at what cost?”

* * * *

Isabelle wanted to give in. She wanted to tell him she’d never put herself in danger again if he’d continue to touch her. But she could never keep such a promise. Her gift wasn’t simply a tool she used. It was a part of her, a part of who she was. Without it, she wasn’t Isabelle.

She stepped back from his scalding touch. “No. Unless you are going to tell me everything, stay away from me.”

It broke her heart to say it. She didn’t know how it was possible, but she was pretty sure she was falling in love with him. Isabelle had never believed in love at first sight. Now…she wasn’t certain.

No
. It was a crazy notion. A silly fairytale. And something not for her.

Isabelle turned, made her way to the stairs, and sprinted up them to her room. She had to leave before she did something stupid, such as cry, or throw herself on him and tell him she didn’t care what he could or couldn’t do.

But she couldn’t lie to herself. There wasn’t a chance in hell for them if there was no honesty between them.

Once inside her room, she locked the door, shutting out Cyrus and the rest of the world.

* * * *

Cyrus’s chest ached, and he rubbed at it. What was
that
all about? The peculiar, tingly, deep pain was unfamiliar.  His heart thumped loud in his ears, and he fought hard not to run after Izzy. She needed time to cool down. Hell, she may never settle down.

Regardless of the outcome, he didn’t regret not telling her what he was. At least this way, maybe he had a chance with her. If she found out exactly who he was, she’d hate him. No matter the curious way she had of separating evil from kindness, once the reality of the situation hit her in the face, she would condemn him.

The pressing question now was, what the hell was he going to do? He was worried about her and the Havoc. If it had been the same one who attacked her both times, as she claimed, he didn’t doubt the bastard would be back to try again. For some reason, this particular spirit had his full attention on Izzy.

Cyrus was certain the first possession had been a convenience—right place, right time, open person. However, the second time had been focused on revenge. The simple fact that Izzy had defeated the spirit once would be enough to whet an appetite for revenge that could only be snuffed out by death…the permanent kind.

And now that she didn’t want him near her, how was he supposed to protect her? He blew out a breath in frustration.
I’ll find a way, Izzy. Whatever I have to do, I will do it.

* * * *

Two days later Isabelle carried her bag down the stairs of Scarlett’s mansion for the last time. The snowstorm had finally passed the night before, and the roads were cleared enough for travel. She had barely seen Cyrus since their argument—of course, that had a lot to do with barricading herself in her room and only sneaking out for food here and there—and she planned to go home and lick her wounds in private. She was pissed that she’d missed seeing him so much, and to her dismay, doubted that feeling would cease anytime soon. It was ridiculous to have a connection as deep as she felt to someone she barely knew. She would shake him off, detox her system of him once and for all after she got home.

Scarlett frowned when Isabelle inquired about Cyrus. “He left about an hour ago, dear. Said something unexpected had come up.”

Isabelle’s heart dropped. While everything inside her had screamed to stay away, she couldn’t deny that she’d wanted to catch one last glimpse of him before she left.

I guess that’s that.

If he had cared at all about her, he wouldn’t have left without saying a word.

You did tell him to stay away from you, then avoid him like the plague.

Isabelle hoped Scarlett couldn’t see the disappointment on her face. “I thought Cyrus was going to be staying with you longer?”

“I thought so too, Isabelle. I’m going to hate being in this place all alone again, but keeping my fingers crossed that won’t be for long. I’ve decided to find a small place in Paris and start over.”

“That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you. I will miss you, Scarlett. I can’t tell you how wonderful it was to meet you. You are a remarkable woman.”

Scarlett hugged her. “You are the special one, Isabelle.”

After a few more well wishes, Isabelle made her way out to her BMW, which was thoroughly cleaned off. She had to smile. She’d bet anything that Cyrus had done that for her. Maybe it had been his way of saying goodbye.

* * * *

Cyrus shifted the Challenger and punched the gas, speeding along the interstate. He wasn’t done with Izzy, but staging a showdown at Scarlett’s would have proven worthless. He had gotten Izzy’s number from Scarlett. He was fairly certain she would hang up on him, but he was persistent, if nothing else. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. That had been the lesser of the two evils at the time.

Fate was a bitch that had a way of taking one’s plans, shoving dynamite in its ass, and blowing it into so many pieces it was unrecognizable.

A few hours later he stopped to buy gas. After paying, he made a stop in the restroom, and before he knew what had happened, a knife was buried deep in his back, the tip piercing his heart. Cyrus floated from the body he had occupied for a short time and watched the brown-haired man crouching over it.