In Italian, she went on a rant.“She is a witch! You stare into her eyes for too long and she will enchant you! Your uncle knew this. The old goat might have been the devil incarnate, but he knew her for what she is!” Then she took his head, pulling him down to her mouth to whisper in his ear.
Her voice came out sharp, but still a soft susurrus, almost tickling my skin. My ears were keen enough to hear the last part of her tirade, though.
Her son’s eyes widened. Even Nino reacted. He scrunched up his nose and made a noise close toewww.
She had the nerve to insult my sauce! To accuse me of witchcraft, of putting an ingredient in it that made my stomach turn, but could easily be disguised in sauce, since it was the same color. All to charm a man to my bed.
A drop of blood from…
“How dare you!” I shot at her. “I would never—!” I stumbled over my anger, and the words were slow to come. “At least—at least—well,at leastI don’t put enough garlic in to clean an entire army of worms!”
She gasped, dramatically putting her hand to her heart.
Her son gave me an apologetic smile, though I knew he’d never take my side over his mamma’s. It just wasn’t done.
He took her by the shoulders and went to lead her away, but she wouldn’t be swayed. The knife made another appearance, glinting silver and cold against the heat of the candlelight.
Pointing the knife at my heart, she took a step forward. “You will tell me where my husband is or else.”
“What is going on?” Nino said, groping around.
He hit the knife out of her hand by accident, and it must’ve nicked his skin, because he hissed before he fell to the floor, grabbing for the thing, desperate to find it before she could get it again.
It didn’t seem to matter.
She took me by the shoulders, her nails digging into my flesh, and shook me. She was a solid woman, and it felt like my teeth were being jarred lose.
“I d-d-don’t know!” I said, answering honestly. “I am l-l-looking for my own hu-hu-husband.”
“Mamma,” Naz said, taking her by the shoulders again. “She does not seem to know.”
She hadn’t let me go, though. The three of us were connected in this bizarre dance.
“If I find the room first, not only will Luca die at my hands, but so will your husband.” Finally releasing me, she made a slicing motion around her throat. “I will bleed him dry and dance on his grave.”
I said nothing to her, attempting to catch my breath, allowing my mind to settle back into place as her son led her away, her voice reaching me from down the hall.
“She has entranced you too! You cannot see!Isee it in her wicked eyes. She knows. She knows what is happening! I told your father not to go!”
“He should have listened,” I whispered.
A woman rushing down the hall collided with Naz.
She hadn’t been looking where she was going, and he’d been looking at his mamma.
Blinking furiously to clear my eyes, I looked to the left, to ask the person next to me if he had seen that. A spark between them, made even brighter by the soft tint of the night. Or had it been my imagination? One of the many candle flames licking up the wall coming between them? Or static electricity?
Naz let his mamma go to hold the woman at arm’s length. For a moment they said nothing. But then Belaflore hissed something at him. Naz cleared his throat, clearly wanting to offer help to the woman but torn.
In the end, he took his mamma’s arm and they moved forward. The woman didn’t see, but Naz glanced behind him once to look at her again.
The brief exchange had rattled her too, but there was more to her unease than Naz.
Lifting her chin, she went to stride past me, but I stopped her.
“What is your business back here?”
“The bathroom.”
