“Thanks,” I say, looking away as my eyes sting. “I’d like to believe that.”
“You can,” she says, and pats my hand. “I think you deserve one member of the Donovan family who’ll be honest about things. God knows we both grew up under secrets and deception. I refuse to live my life like that anymore.”
It sounds so tempting when she puts it like that, but I could never make the same vow. When I married Luca—before that, even, when I fell in love with him one crazy night—I gave away any chance to live in the light. He exists in shadows and darkness by necessity. And so I stay there with him, a night-adapted creature.
I pat Tara’s hand right back. “You’re a darling,” I tell her automatically.
“You’re my brother,” she says, as though it means the same thing. “I love you, and you’ll always be part of the family as far as I’m concerned. Which reminds me, Howie—was there anything of Pops’ that you wanted as a keepsake?”
“Something to rememberPopsby?” I say, letting out my hyena laugh. Like Luca always does, Tara just smiles along with me, instead of looking around to see if other people have heard me. “Uh,no. No, I don’t think so.”
“I sent Mom’s rosary to Róisín,” she says. “Is there anything maybe of Mom’s that you—”
“Actually, yeah,” I say, remembering. “Mom had a diary?”
Tara nods. “Yeah. She had a real way with words.”
“You’ve read it?”
“Parts. It hurt, at the time. Only a few years after she died. So I put it away, hid it, because Maggie was going through all her things, throwing them out—” She presses her hand to her mouth. “It makes sense now, I suppose.”
“I wondered if Mom ever said anything about Tino in her diary,” I say bluntly. “And…me.”
Tara gives a shake of the head and my heart drops, but then she says, “I don’t know, Howie. I’ll be happy to have another look for you?”
“I’d like that,” I say softly. “And Tara—you’ll be careful, won’t you? Watch your back with Maggie. She’s not above killing family.”
“Oh, I have my own protections, like you have yours. Don’t you worry about me.”
I tell her I won’t. But I do wonder if she really understands what it takes to head up a family like the Donovans, especially if they’re making their way back into the same darkness that Luca and I inhabit.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Luca
Tara Donovan leaves the next day, after making promises to me I’m not sure she can keep. Finch tells me privately that he doesn’t hold out much hope for Tara’s chances, but I can’t help feeling more hopeful than I have in a long time. If nothing else, Tarahasdiscovered that Maggie’s alliance with our Italian enemies is shaky; since Joey and Sam Fuscone are both gone, the Fuscones are in turmoil. The Clemenza Family has little interest in Boston. Maggie’s resources are dwindling and her hold could be slipping. And if Tara can persuade—
“Let’s not talk about those damn Donovans anymore,” Finch groans. “We’re inVegas, baby! Second honeymoon, too! Time to have some fun. And I know just what I want to do with you.”
“Mm. I know just what I want to do with you, too,” I say. Ever since our frank conversation about exactly what our sex is doing for him, I’ve been more than happy to provide our own method of therapy. I trail my fingers down his neck to the top button on his shirt, but he grabs my hand.
“Not sex.”
“Notsex?”
“Something else.” He gives me a wicked grin. “A surprise.”
Finch’s surprise starts out with us taking the escalator at the back of the hotel up to—
“The monorail?”
“The monorail!” Finch throws his arms wide. “Cool, huh?”
His enthusiasm is catching. “Sleek, sexy, fast. Just like you, baby bird.”
Finch scrunches up his nose. “That’s a stretch. But I’ll take it.”
And so we take the monorail up the strip, hopping off at Treasure Island, after which Finch pulls me across the street to the Venetian. “You ever been to Venice?” he asks as we wander through the marble-and-gold building. The walls are adorned with classic Italian Renaissance art, the kind of pictures I’ve seen before but wouldn’t be able to name.
