He groaned out my name one final time, then collapsed beside me, throwing an arm over his face.
“I could die now,” he murmured softly.
“And not have a single regret.”
50
EMBERLINE
Iwoke up alone in the dark—irritated and wondering where Dante had gone, presumably to plot his sire’s imminent downfall with Nico and Gabriel—while I lay in bed, telling myself I wasn’t going to do anything stupid.Don’t make a mistake now, Ember. You are so close to having everything you’ve ever wanted.
Besides, revenge is overrated.
By the time I lostthatargument, my boots were already laced, my knives were strapped to my thigh, and my hand was opening the latch of the door to the roof, which definitely needed another coat of olive oil.
I was just a little bit—okay, a lot—pissed my husband vanished into thin air without so much as a word.
Or a note.Especially after giving me three mind-blowing orgasms.
If he could disappear on some secretive mission, then so could I.
In any case, I wasn’t sitting around with my thumb in my ass while Giovanni was walking around free, drinking my father’s brandy and sitting in his chair, pretending he was in charge.
If my uncle had buried his dirty secrets beneath the palazzo, then playing the part of the good little wife was a waste of my well-honed talents.
I knew that palazzo like the back of my hand, hadmemorized every security code, knew a handy unsealing charm, and could get in and out through the broken garden window unseen. AndIdidn’t rule by committee.
I made decisive decisions and carried them out myself.
Besides, I’d be home before my husband, and if I brought back that proof, we’d be further ahead.
I eased the hatch open, and heavy night air rushed in. In the distance, the moon rose over the city, giving it the look of some place magical, unchanged for hundreds of years, and St. Marco’s bells tolled, the mournful sound smothered by the haze of light rain.
Half an hour later, I studied the family palazzo, all marble and shadow, hunched over the canal, sinking another inch every year. Enzo used to joke that it didn’t matter, as long as the wine cellar stayed dry.
A light flicked on, then off inside, one of the front doors opening, just enough to allow my uncle to slip through. He was almost indistinguishable from the night, with a dark cloak thrown over his brown habit, a hood over his head, but I’d know that shambling gait anywhere.
It took me a second to identify the tight knot at my center.
The one that felt both like the heaviest weight I’d ever carried and the cold bite of a knife into my skin.
I’d only thought I knew what hatred felt like,tastedlike, as I realized my fangs had punched through my tongue, blood flooding my mouth. In our world, being betrayed by an ally was expected, but by the male who’d held your hand when you were learning to walk… was unspeakably cruel.
Giovanni whistled faintly as he walked along the swollen canal, an old song my father had loved. Anger turned into a tight throat and blurred vision, and when I blinked the tears away, my murdering uncle was gone.
I leaptfrom one roof to my own, boots gripping the slick tiles, more afraid of the overflowing canal below than the stone. One wrong move and that would be the end of Emberline DiRavello Dominico, because I couldn’t swim to save my life.
The cameras along the roofline had been disabled, their blinking lights dark. Even worse, the house wards were down, and the Draconi guards were gone. The palazzo was fast asleep with all the confidence of a powerful vampire family who thought trouble long past and themselves invincible.
Foolish arrogance.
Luca was inside, probably asleep, I thought angrily. With me gone, my brother trusted my uncle to handle the security, and the fucking house was wide open.
First thing tomorrow, I’d be back, and this shit was getting handled.
The garden window with the broken latch gave way easily, and I crept through the back corridor, with its delicate, hand-blown chandeliers and frescoed ceilings, past the old kitchens, seldom used these days, then my father’s beloved wine cellar, where dust lay thick on the racks and clammy stone sweated around me.
Beyond that lay the storage room, vacant now, except for a few sacks of flour and some rice since neither my brother nor my uncle ate real food, apparently.
