Her cousin.
Her blood.
The only conclusion I ever formed was that Rattler had threatened me as well. If Atta would have told me the truth, perhaps I would have gone back with a gun and shot him dead. Perhaps his brothers would have killed me, and I would not be standing where I was.
The soldiers created two walls on each side of us. Remo was in front of us. Marciano was behind us. One of Angelo’s brothers was behind Marciano. The other brothers were behind Angelo and Atta. There was no room for Rattler or his brothers to squeeze in.
At the curb was where we met them. It seemed as if the hole was purposely created. The Fausti soldiers must have been ordered to keep the Greens from the sides and behind, but not up front.
Mariano set me behind him as Remo stepped to the side.
Rattler and Mariano were face to face.
Angelo took a position beside Mariano, and so did Marciano. Rattler’s brothers flanked him on either side.
I made atskingnoise with my mouth.
Rattler and his band of thugs seemed like playthings to Mariano and his family.
After looking Mariano up and down, grinning, Rattler tilted to the right, trying to see past the wall in front of us. What I didnot notice before was the color of his face and the scent from his clothes. It was not full of snake musk as it usually was, but the bitter tinge of ash. His face seemed as if it was coated in torched charcoal.
“Hiding those two, huh? Is that what this is about?” Rattler said. “Two girls who lie about what’s been done to them, when they were both willing participants?”
Mariano said nothing.
His eyes never left Rattler.
The biggest mistake Rattler could have made.
He did not look into my husband’s eyes and see him for what he was.
A true hunter.
A killer.
The intensity coming from my husband almost made me take a step back. It was pushing against me, as strong as the wind was. If it was not for the men who had hurt me and Atta, I would have shivered out of fear. I could even smell it in the air. It overpowered the bitterness Rattler and his brothers emitted.
Power.
My husband emitted power—a rich smell that did not cower to the bitter miasma Rattler and his brothers seemed to carry.
“Pussy might have your tongue tied in knots, but not mine,” Rattler said. “That one. Atta Watt. She?—”
I made a growling noise and forced myself past the men in front of me, Atta screaming my name, trying to grab me by the arm. Rattler went to take a step forward but thought better of it and took a step back. Mariano had taken me by the arm and held me close to his side.
“Speak for me,” my husband said in Italian, his voice low, but every word precise.
“Wait a damn minute!” the brother who had escorted me into the barn by the hair that night said, pulling out his phone. “He’sspeaking a language we don’t understand. That’s not entirely fair.”
“This is why I will speak for him,” I said, narrowing my eyes against his.
“Told you she’s a witch,” he spoke from the side of his mouth to another brother.
“Yeah,” Rattler said, his eyes on mine, but they weren’t as narrowed as before. “The consequence for casting spells? Burning at the stake.”
The brother with the phone turned it forward. It was a translating app. He looked directly at me. “I don’t trust you to truthfully translate what he’s saying.”
Mariano had a firm hold on me, and I had never noticed him do this until then—he was shaking my hand, which seemed innocent to the outside world. I knew better. It was a sign he was using all his strength to hold back from charging them.
