The bindings cut deep into my skin, unyielding. They were attached to something round, bolted into the wall behind me—one of those fucking metal rings, from the solid feel.
The water sloshed again, higher now, and I tilted my head back, trying to gauge the incoming tide from the half-submerged arches. The top three steps were still visible, but the bottom half of the stairs was gone.
“Giovanni!” I screamed, “You can’t leave me down here, youbastard.”
Only the echoes answered.
I forced myself to breathe. Panicking wouldn’t help. Anger flared through the fear, hot enough to steady my numb, shaking hands. Maybe Luca was upstairs…three stories up, through layers of solid stone and powerful wards.
“If I get out of this,” I promised, “I swear to the gods I’ll make you regret not finishing the job yourself, Uncle. And if I die, I will haunt you from the grave and make you wish you were never born.”
The water climbed another inch, my teeth chattering. Vampires withstood cold better than mortals, but this chill was invasive, and the adrenaline was wearing off, leaving panic behind to consume me whole. The water was close to the candle, the wick guttering in wax.
I twisted my hands, the wire cutting deep. Too deep and I’d bleed out, but I managed to work my fingers into the knife sheath at my hip.
Empty.
Of course it was.
The water rose, reaching my sternum, then my collarbone, each inch bringing a fresh shock of cold. My breathing sped up as I scanned the walls, the ceiling. No openings. No windows. The only way out was back up those stairs and through the house.
You’re not drowning in a godsdamned basement,I told myself fiercely.You’re better than this.You survived worse. This is just water.
Except it wasn’tjustwater.
This was my worst nightmare, every one of my childhood terrors come back to haunt me. I tipped my head back against the stone and shut my eyes, hot tears sliding down my face.
I was fucked.
Dante thought I was asleep in bed.
Giovanni left me down here to die.
Die in the most nightmarish manner I could imagine. If I was older, a hundred years or more, I might survive but suffer longer. Drowning, only to revive and drown again, over and over.
But at thirty, I was considered a newborn.
More resilient than a human, long-lived, as long as I avoided beheading and being burned to death… and other nasty accidents.
Like this.
I leaned forward as far as the restraints allowed, pitting my weight against the bindings, trying to wrench that bolt free from the wall. Stone rasped as the block shifted, wire sliced to the bone, pain streaking down my arms, fingers going numb as I severed tendon and nerves.
I sagged back, panting.
The wire would cut my godsdamned hands off before I’d ever break loose.
“You always did know how to set a trap, Uncle,” I called, the words amplified by the water. “I never imagined I’d be caught by you twice.”
I wondered if he was listening. Watching from some dark corner to make sure the tide finished me off. Or was he upstairs, savoring a nice glass of Enzo’s brandy? Would he let me rot down here until I was nothing but a pile of bones chained to the wall?
Maybe this amused him, knowing he’d won. And what would happen to Luca now? Did my uncle even need my brother, or would he find a way to get rid of him, too?
“I am not dying down here,” I told myself in a breathless rasp. “Do you hear me? I am not—” A particularly strong surge hit, I choked, sputtering, braid floating around my shoulders like a dark sea snake.
Not like this,I thought wildly.Not in the dark. Not alone.
I threw my weight forward, pulling with every ounce of strength I had left.
