The block of stone moved, chunks of mortar splashing into the water as the wall behind me shifted, a crack splitting the ceiling. Drowning or being crushed by the entire palazzo collapsing… what a fucking choice to make.
But maybe…one more hard yank and the entire stone behind me came loose.
Yes.
The tide surged, and I strained for air, jerking against my bonds to keep my nose high. And then there was no surface to break free of. There was only water, dark and cold and final, my lungs seizing in protest as the last air bubbles dribbled out of my mouth.
With a cold, brutal clarity, I realized I was going to die.
And nobody was ever going to find me.
52
DANTE
Emberline.
Her name rang off the walls of the training room, echoing back the growing panic in my voice, as I raced through the house, throwing open door after door to dark, empty rooms. Panic sluiced through my veins, heart beating feverishly as I took the steps two at a time.
Her citrusy scent lingered through the house, leading straight to the hatch in the roof.
I stared at that unlatched door, cursing myself for leaving.
For thinking I could sneak off to clear my head while she slept. To go over my plan again, make sure I was doing everything possible to keep my wife safe. And I’d fucking failed at that, too, because now she was gone.
I should have stayed in bed, arms wrapped around her, keeping her safe.
She wouldn’t have gone far, I told myself.
I laughed bitterly. I was a fool. After what she’d just learned, of course, she’d gone after her uncle. Alone. With a fistful of knives and a heart filled with rage, she was headed to the DiRavello palazzo.
Well, I was right behind her. I shoved the hatch open and leapt onto the roof, staring out over the slumbering city, the slivered moon hung low in the dark sky.
My gaze fixed on the DiRavello palazzo, towering over Cannaregio.
I inhaled the damp night air, catching a hint of Ember’s scent. An hour, possibly more since she’d left; fear spiked through my chest at what might have happened in those scant minutes. I closed my eyes and reached inward, searching for the other end of the blood bond, the trace of my own blood in her system.
There—a faint echo tugged at my chest, low and insistent, dragging me east.
For a heartbeat, something else flared. Cold. Panic. A sharp spike of smothering, not being able to breathe…drowning.Then the bond went dark, as if night had fallen.
My heart stuttered.
“Dare I ask why you’re on the godsdamned roof?”
Nico’s head popped through the opening, annoyance carving lines into his face. “Gabriel sent me to deliver a message. Marcello met with Giovanni tonight. He didn’t know about what.” My old friend stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Why do you look like you’re having a godsdamned stroke?”
“Emberline’s gone.” My voice came out rougher than I intended as I pointed, my finger shaking. “But I felt her… there.”
Nico’s gaze flicked over the rooflines to the palazzo, then back to me. I watched realization hit him, the way his posture sharpened. “She wouldn’t confront Giovanni by herself, would she?”
“She would, and she’d go alone because she thinks she’s fucking invincible,” I snarled, reaching down the empty space between us, grasping for something—anything—on the other end.
Nothing.
Fucking darkness and cold and… no, not darkness cutting us off, butwater.
I was a fool. A stupid, idiotic fool, and once I dragged her foolhardy, stubborn, reckless ass back home, I was never letting her out of my sight again.
