Nico whistled low as I slid my phone back into my pocket. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“You’ve been on my bad side since we were thirteen, asshole.”
He grinned, bright and sudden, all the lethality bleeding out of him now that the fight was over. “And yet, here I still stand. You and me. Friends forever,” he chirped, forming his bloody fingers into a fucking heart.
“You really need professional help,” I muttered, but there was no heat to it. Nico was the one person whose presence never felt like a chore. He had been there for every harsh lesson my father had hammered into me, every brutal night of training, every quiet moment when I’d wanted to drown this whole cursed city and walk away.
He’d stayed by my side when my brother died, and everyone else had bowed to my father.
I knelt beside the human man. His pulse fluttered beneath my fingers, faint but present, and I fed a faint thread of magic into him, just enough to seal up his wounds and stop the bleeding. “Easy,” I soothed when he flinched away. “You’re going to be fine.”
His eyes struggled to focus on my face. “Wh-what…?”
“You and your friends were attacked by muggers,” I explained, wrapping my glamour around his consciousness like silk. “You fought them off. You’re going to go back to your hotel, sleep this off, and in a few months, tell the story to your friends over too many drinks. You’ll be a fucking hero.”
His eyes glazed. “Muggers,” he repeated groggily. “I’m a hero?”
“That’s right.” I helped him to his feet, steadying him when his knees buckled. “Follow the sound of the bells. When you get back out onto the Riva degli Schiavoni, flag down a Carabinieri, and have them escort you back to your hotel.”
Nico was crouching beside the girl, touching her shoulder, his voice low and soothing.
“You’re safe,” he told her. “You came down this alley by mistake. You and your friends were mugged, but you’re heading straight back to your hotel now.”
She nodded slowly, panicked breathing evening out. Nico moved to the third victim, offering her his hand and touching her cheek, her eyes turning hazy. The three of them staggered to the mouth of the alley, then only the water and the distant creak of wood against stone remained.
“You were very good with them,” I observed.
“Don’t you dare tell a soul,” He warned. “I have my monstrous reputation to maintain.” Nico wiped his hands on his trousers and leaned back against the wall, looking at me like he had far more to say but just couldn’t fucking wait to say it.
20
GABRIEL
“You didn’t answer me before.” Nico crossed his arms over his chest, that shit-eating grin on his face becoming a permanent feature.
I frowned. “About what?”
“AboutEmberline.” His pale gaze sharpened. “You’ve been stewing over her since your father announced your sudden betrothal. Surely, he’s not serious?”
Ah yes, the screaming match of yesterday when Marcello—who had clearly lost his fucking mind—informed me he’d agreed to Giovanni’s proposal. No consult with me, the groom, no asking if marriage to a spoiled heiress fit into my godsdamned life plans.
I exhaled slowly, some of the adrenaline draining from my system, my muscles looser than they’d been in days. “Tomorrow night,” I admitted. “The date is already set. Tomorrow, I marry Emberline DiRavello, and effectively… well, I’m effectively fucked.”
“Don’t act like this is a prison sentence,” Nico pursed his lips. “This is only for Dynasty business, not real. Separate lives, happy wives… right?”
“That’s not how the saying goes, Nico.” I stepped over the bodies strewn at our feet. “And if it is just business, then why does it feel like a prison sentence?” At the edge of the canal, I stared into the water, at the thick fog, curling around my ankles like the night had come alive. “A sentence I would have preferred to have chosen for myself instead of havingmy freedom bartered away by the likes of Giovanni DiRavello.”
Except… some part of me was looking forward to this marriage, the same way I looked forward to facing down a foe. There was something about her that fascinated me, which felt just as dangerous as being backed into a corner.
“You’re not bartering your freedom. You’re signing your life away.” Nico slapped me on the back. “Big difference.”
“Nico,” I sighed. “You are seriously the world’s biggest idiot.”
He held up his hands, then dropped them with a sigh. “At least she’s beautiful. I mean… like really gorgeous. And those stuffy manners… make you want to find out what’s under all that prim and proper coldness, but…” His head tilted to the side, suddenly serious.
“She’s hiding something, Gabriel. That wasn’t some sweet little princess staring down Marcello. As for Giovanni… if what that prisoner claimed is true...”
Thank the gods Nico hadn’t been standing on that dais, close enough to recognize the murderous gleam in her eyes and the way she held that knife like a professional assassin.
