“A year ago, I woke up on a beach in Tunisia with a bag over my head, but I was free. Up until a few weeks ago, I stayed hidden, trying to get my head straight, took some jobs that weren’t… Well, Rocco blackmailed me for some off-the-books work I did, so let’s just say I didn’t always land on the right side of vampire law.”
The way the sun came in the window caught Emberline’s face just right, turning her into a Caravaggio painting, a chiaroscuro masterpiece fit for the grandest museum or my darkest fantasies. She looked so godsdamned innocent, with her hair falling past one shoulder, my shirt off the other, and I braced my feet on the shifting floor that used to be my world.
I reached up, absently dragging my fingers over a tattoo, magic tingling against my fingertips, something dark and unspeakable shifting inside me, waiting to get out.
My wife couldneverknow what the Fossa had turned me into. What the Overseer had created, down in his workshop, with pagan magic and malice and the help of a witch.
An animal, really, unfit for anything but dealing out pain and death for his enjoyment.
Because if I ever wanted Emberline to love me the way I loved her, then she couldn’t find out I was a fucking monster cloaked in a vampire’s skin.
She swallowed. “You said there’s proof.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “There is. We just don’t know where it went.”
I turned to my friend. Nico’s usual lazy arrogance was gone, elbows resting on the table, fingers laced, his pale eyes steady as he studied Ember.
“All these years, Marcello didn’t operate alone,” he explained slowly, something like regret flashing across his face. “He’s not smart enough to run a con this complicated, not even ambitious enough. He had your uncle helping to cover his tracks.”
Ember’s fingers tightened around the mug. “My uncle has spent his life pitted against Marcello. He would never protect him,” she insisted stubbornly.
“Giovanni was protecting his own secrets,” Nico clarified gently. “Your uncle was instrumental in securing Marcello his position, remember? They worked in tandem for centuries, covering each other’s tracks.”
Nico’s gaze drifted up to mine, his question clear.Should I keep going?
I nodded.
“But then someone else discovered the truth. Someone with enough influence and forethought to gather proof—letters, ledgers, eyewitness accounts, even from the DiSangue priests involved. Someone who could expose six centuries of corruption. Someonerespected, even revered.Dante’s source.”
“Just how many people are involved in this conspiracy?” Ember asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Only us, and three others, and one of them is now dead.”
Ember winced, and I could practically see the wheels turning inside her head, linking one clue to the next, creating a picture that led to one logical conclusion.
“Enzo,” she whispered. “Your source was my father. Was that why… of course it was… of course that’s why he was killed.” She stared into the distance, not seeing either of us, a horrified awareness growing on her face.
“I thought it was the rivalry with Marcello. I thought it was my fault someone got inside…”
How badly I wanted to scoop her up. Carry her away from this city. Kiss away that broken hopelessness on her face.
“Your sire was the first person I visited once I came back to Venice,” I said hoarsely. “He still had the evidence. Hard, physical evidence—records written in Marcello’s own handwriting—that proved, beyond a doubt, his claim to the title is not valid. But he was scared. He couldn’t trust anyone anymore.”
I cursed these last twelve months I’d spent screwing my head back on, retraining myself to become a member of society. If I’d only returned sooner…
“You came to see my father?” She looked up at me with tears running down her face. “When?”
“Two nights before he was killed.” I hardly dared to breathe. “In addition to showing me the evidence, your father asked me for a favor that night.”
I forced my heart to stop racing. “Enzo made me swear to honor the old blood oath he and Marcello swore, a century ago. He told me I was the only one who couldprotect you if something happened to him. Then Giovanni forced Marcello into an agreement, I interrupted your wedding, and here we are.”
“My father asked you to honor the oath. He wanted you toprotectme?” Her voice came out so small, so vulnerable. She looked… absolutely wrecked.
I wanted to go kill something.
Preferably a cherub-faced motherfucker who dressed like a monk.
“Your father knew he was in danger, and his only priority was protecting you and Luca.” Nico put in. “He’d sat on the evidence for years to protect you and your brother. He thought he was careful.”
