“Not sure. They both have motive and opportunity. They met the night before, when you…” He paused. “Either of them has the means. I posted soldiers at every Pentarch’s palazzo, under the guise of increased security. Severin backed me up, so this all looks legal. More eyes on this city will make it harder for them to hide.”
“If Dante’s not dead, then where is he?” I scrubbed my face. “Blowing up the house… that is a declaration of war. A statement. Why make him disappear? Why not kill him outright?”
“For all intents and purposes, you’ve disappeared as well,” Nico reminded me. “There was no body, and so far, no announcement of your death. My guess is, Giovanni is still searching for you; his spies have been asking questions.” Nico’s tone turned gentle. “We’ll know more in the next few days. One of them will reveal their hand; both your absences cannot go unnoticed for long.”
“He’s really gone, isn’t he?” I whispered, the admission carving something open inside my chest. Not the tearing, violent pain I’d felt these past two days, but a relentless ache that made those tangled vines twist tighter until I could barely breathe.
“I promise you this. We will bring him home.” Nico set his hand over mine, heavy and warm and calloused from training.
“Dante was my friend,” he declared softly. “My brother in everything but blood. He saved my life in the pits more than once. I’m not going to pretend I know what he was to you,principessa. But wewillget him back.”
I blinked down at our joined hands, throat burning with the scream I was holding back.
“I was supposed to hate him,” I whispered. “I mean, he was such an asshole, kidnapping me at my own wedding. So fucking pompous, rude, and arrogant, I vowed to take him down and spit on his ashes.”
“And instead?” Nico asked quietly.
I swallowed.
“And instead…” I choked out a laugh, staring at the cracks in the plaster. “I fell in love and started planning our future. Even that shitty house was starting to feel like home.”
Gods, the truth was pathetic spoken out loud.
“I thought we had time,” I whispered. “Time for me to tell him that somewhere between wanting to stab him and wanting to kiss him, I fell in… love.” The final word lodged in my throat until I couldn’t breathe.
“I never told him,” I finally managed. “I wasted every moment trying to convince myself that what I was feeling was dangerous for both of us. And now he’s…” My vision blurred.
“Ember.” Nico’s voice was soft. “You didn’t waste anything. Trust me, he knew.”
I pressed the heel of my hands to my eyes. “I was going to tell him,” I whispered. “After he came back that day. I was going to look him in the eye and tell him I would have chosen him. Because I—” My voice broke.
Because I couldn’t live without him.
“You’ll be able to tell him all that yourself.” Gabriel wasoutlined by the doorframe, rolling his shirt sleeve down over a corded forearm, buttoning the cuff. He stepped inside, those blue eyes burning, so like Dante’s, the breath caught in my throat, and that thorny vine wrapped around my heart andsqueezedout the last few precious drops of blood.
“We’re going to find him. He’s not dead.” Gabriel reached up and rubbed his chest, right where my own heart ached and ached. “If my brother was dead, I’d feel it. And he’s alive.”
A tiny, treacherous spark of hope battered back the darkness inside me.
“If this was Uncle Gio...” I toyed with the edge of the blanket. “I know about his network. I can tell you who to watch, who to follow.” My gaze found Nico’s. “Who to talk to.”
I knew what I was asking. That Nico’s methods oftalkingwould involve knives and fists and broken bones, but frankly… I didn’t care. I had a terrible feeling Dante’s time was running out, and I wanted my husband back alive. In one piece. And if I left a trail of bodies behind me, then so be it.
Nico reached for the glass he’d set down earlier and held it out to me.
“Drink,” he commanded. “Then we’ll talk about what comes next. But… I’d like to see that list of names, principessa.”
The liquid inside was dark and viscous, the scent of blood heavy and rich. My body reacted instantly—fangs punching out, hunger twisting in my gut. I hadn’t fed… since right before the explosion. My injuries weren’t healing, but drinking from anyone but Dante…
“I can’t,” I pushed the glass away.
“You don’t get to starve yourself to death.” Gabriel’s voice was unyielding. “You want to help? Then get yourself strong.” His eyes flashed before he glanced away, jaw locked tight. “That’smyblood. We figured… I might taste more familiar. Now drink, or I’ll force it down your godsdamned throat.”
I stared up at him, hunger and horror battling inside me.
“Dante is still alive somewhere,” he promised, his tone softer. “Fighting for his life. Do you think he’d forgive any of us if we gave up now? Are you going to lie in this bed while Giovanni toasts his success?”
I snatched the glass from Nico and tossed the entire thing back, Gabriel’s blood burning a path down my throat. The flavor of his blood was similar to my husband’s, sweeter, maybe, less spice and fire, then power hit my veins in a sudden surge, every one of my senses sharpening.
