Chapter 7
LUCA
“Minerva says what?” I thunder.
“She says maybe you’re linked by a blood spell, Boss,” Matteo repeats.
“What the hell does that even mean? And why don’t I know about it? And how the fuck do I break it?” I slam my hand down on the table as I speak, and the wooden legs splinter and break under the pressure. Shit.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, all right? I told her what was happening with you—and yeah, before you ask, we were careful, and Vincenzo has no clue—and she did that thing where she looks all wistful, like she might float off into the ether, and then she said it might be a blood spell.
Cast back when you were transformed. And then we went for ice cream at that new gelateria off Madison. Their pistachio sundae is to die for.”
I roll my eyes and snap back, “And what the fuck makes you think I’m interested in ice cream right now?”
“Nothing. I just thought you needed a minute to process. She says if it was a powerful enough spell, and if it was done well and long enough ago, you wouldn’t know it was there until something happened to trigger it.”
“You mean I might have been carrying this thing around with me my whole life? Like some kind of fucking parasite?”
“I suppose so. But she wasn’t certain, just to be clear. She said she’d need to have you in front of her and to taste your blood to know for sure. But it would explain a lot, wouldn’t it?”
I suppose it would, I think, standing up and kicking the broken table out of my way. I’m in a hotel on the Magnificent Mile in Chicago, and despite the cost of the place, their furniture is for shit.
I’m here because this is where my slippery little Seer went. I don’t have her exact location yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Don Vincenzo was not happy in the slightest when I called to tell him she’d escaped. He was silent, which is always a bad sign with him—that’s when he is most dangerous.
“How disappointing,” he finally said, acid dripping from every word. “I expected better from you. Find her and do as you have been ordered—or I might forget my loyalties. You understand?”
I understood. Loyalty is a huge deal in our world.
Yeah, we have to be loyal to him—that’s a big part of it—but he is also loyal to us.
Despite his viciousness, his cruelty, his vices, Vincenzo looks after us all in his own way.
He gives us a safe haven, a home, his protection—although from where I’m standing, none of it feels remotely safe.
If Vincenzo withdraws his support, it will mean I’m an open target—an unmade man.
It means all the enemies I’ve accrued over the centuries—and there are a shitload of them—will come for me.
They’ll know that there will be no reprisal from the Firenzes. I might survive it; I might not.
That’s not even the worst of it. Vincenzo could simply choose to kill me. I belong to him, and if he decides to, he can end me wherever I stand. Long-distance murder. Fuck.
My mood turning darker, I hang up on Matteo and look around for something to break. The dainty teacup shatters into a million shards against the wall, and they rain down onto the thick carpet. Pathetic little things were useless to me anyway.
It’s morning, so it will remain light outside for several more hours. I pace the room, feeling trapped in every way.
A blood spell? Could that be a thing? The thought of something being inside me—controlling me—without my knowledge is driving me wild.
I have little enough free will in this world as it is.
I was sold into the Firenze family when I was still in the womb, and it’s the only life I’ve ever known.
I hate it, but I need it. The structure, the meaning it gives my life … It’s all I’ve ever had.
Apart from Isabella, and that was … a mistake. A mistake she paid for with her suffering and, eventually, her life.
And now I find out that some bullshit witchy woo-woo has been messing with my mind all this time. It’s too fucking much.
I hate witches. Not on a personal level—Minnie can be a lot of fun—but I hate the whole idea of them and their creepy power. There were a lot of them around before I was transformed, and any one of them could have done this to me.
That’s not much help though, because I can’t remember any of it. Can’t remember what it felt like to be a regular human kid—playing outside, needing sleep, being innocent. That person, and all their memories, died when I was turned. I’ve always assumed it was some kind of mental glitch.
Not all vamps forget their human existence when they change, and it’s kind of sad to see them try to cling to their old lives, their families, their friends—it destroys them, and in most cases, it also destroys those they love.
Nothing like a goodnight kiss that turns into a bloodbath to sever those ties.
But me, I don’t remember a scrap. Everything I know about my life back then is based on what I was told by the woman who created me—or at least the me I am now.
Giulia is long gone, and I know that for sure because I killed her.
I tore her head off and set it aflame as her body tried to crawl back toward it.
Vincenzo ordered her death, and it was no hardship.
I hated her more than I have ever hated anyone or anything.
But for the first time since her fortunate demise, I wish she were around so I could ask her questions.
So I could torture the truth out of her.
The witches arrived en masse in the early 1600s, with their herbs and chants and all-powerful magic.
They can control all of us—vamps, shifters, fae, every other supernatural dreg—if they want to.
They don’t, but things had gotten so bad at that stage that they stepped in.
The legend—and that’s all it is to most of us—goes that an especially bloodthirsty group of vamps was roaming all over Europe.
They started in Hungary and basically killed their way through the whole continent.
Raping, pillaging, tearing out the throats of young virgins—all that ye olde bygone days stuff.
Even the other vampires knew it had to stop because the whole region was at risk of being depopulated, which would have meant losing our food source.
Plus, a lot of our kind were meeting their end at the hands of overzealous hunters staking everything in sight.
The witches were called there by the Vecchissime, the old families.
The not-quite-humans blessed with their own longevity and special powers.
Some were Seers, others Healers. Many were Makers—inventors and artists.
They were a large part of why Renaissance Italy was famed for its painters, sculptors, and writers.
The Bargain was struck, and the deal was sealed by the witches. And on the whole, it has held for all these long years. We’re still here; the humans are still here; the Vecchissime are still here. I can’t say I’ve given it a lot of thought—it’s just the way things are.
The Bargain was signed in blood, and my transformation took place hours before that unbreakable spell was forged.
From what Minnie is saying, it might not have been the only spell forged—but why?
Why bother with me, a baby vamp back then?
And why link me to the Capelli Seer, who wouldn’t be born until a couple centuries later?
None of it makes any sense. Except …
Something clicked into place when Matteo said those words, like a key fitting into a lock.
It explains so much. Why everything changed when we met. How my body responded to her. It went far beyond lust. I’ve fucked enough people in my life to know what that feels like.
With her, it went deeper. I was gripped by a primal need to possess her, to devour her. To protect her. To give myself to her, body and soul, and let her take me as completely as I would take her.
Even thinking about her in my arms makes me hard. The way her tits felt crushed up against me, the little mewling sounds she made. Her hair wrapped around my fist, the pale skin of her throat glistening in the moonlight.
Groaning, I head for the shower. I need to release the tension that’s been building inside me since I met her.
I’ve been walking around with a hard-on for too long.
I need to feel. To imagine her mouth on my cock, my tongue inside her pussy, my hands holding her down while I fuck every hole she has.
I’m raging with it, and I can’t think straight.
I need to find her. Or I need to find a way to persuade her come to me. But first, I need to come.
Blood spell! Fuck, I really hate witches.