Chapter 14
ROSA
Iwake in his arms, and it is everything I imagined it would be. My head is cradled on his chest, one of his legs is hooked around me, and my whole body is curved tight against his in a protective cocoon.
For a few seconds, I am lost in bliss and comfort. I feel safer than I ever have in my life. And then reality comes crashing down on me.
I ache everywhere. Some of it is good—the dull throb between my legs and the faint tingle on my neck reminding me of what this man did to me hours earlier. Of what we did to each other.
It was the best sex of my life, the biggest high, the most euphoric sensation imaginable. Even thinking about it sends a little clenching tremor through my core.
But the other aches … They’re less enjoyable.
The still-fuzzy aftershock from the drugs, the bruises I accumulated during my struggles, the crust of a scab on my lip from Martin’s slap.
And all that is nothing compared to the wounds that left no visible trace—the sense of betrayal and complete disgust I now feel toward my own family.
The tiny voice inside me is always ready and willing to tell me I’m not good enough. To remind me that Serena died when it should have been me—that I am, and forever will be, a second choice.
The voice will probably never go away, but my underlying self-doubt still isn’t loud enough to drown out the injustice. I might not be perfect, but I didn’t deserve what happened to me. Nobody deserves what happened to me. It was foul and corrupt and fills me with shame and sorrow.
My grandfather hasn’t kept his disappointment in me a secret, but I did at least trust him.
And Pietro? I loved him.
Now they both need to be dead to me, and I must accept that I am alone.
Except, I remind myself as I indulge in a few more moments of peace, I am not alone right now. I am draped in a big, bad, beautiful man.
Vamps don’t need much sleep, especially the older ones, but when they pass out, they are dead to the world.
It gives me a chance to study him and admire his full, luscious lips, the long, dark eyelashes resting against golden skin.
His strong nose and the jut of his stubble-coated jaw.
He is breathtaking, truly gorgeous. And sleep almost makes him appear innocent.
But I know better. There is blood on his hands, in his soul.
It seeps into every aspect of his life. He will have committed unspeakable acts and left terror in his wake for centuries.
Still, some of the blood on his hands was shed for me, and I can’t find it within myself to feel anything other than tenderness and desire. A great big pickup truck of desire.
If I don’t move now, I never will. Sighing, I wriggle out of his embrace.
My clothes from last night are disgusting, but I quickly dress in them before I change my mind.
We slept for nearly a whole day—or at least I did.
He wouldn’t have needed as much rest. Knowing how he feels about me, how we feel about each other, I wouldn’t be surprised if he spent at least some of it watching me sleep, staring at me the same way I stared at him.
I touch my fingers to my amulet and drop a kiss on his forehead.
Everything is topsy-turvy in my life. My own family is the scum of the earth, and my knight in shining armor is a centuries-old killer from the vampire world’s version of the Mafia.
None of it feels steady or trustworthy, so I have to make sure I can at least trust myself.
I will go to New York and work with him to figure out what is happening. But I will not give over all control of my life to any man, including this one. Not unless I’m naked, of course.
I blush in the hazy shade of the room, flooded with images from last night. I let him bite me, for fuck’s sake. What was I thinking?
I wasn’t thinking—that’s the truthful answer. I was letting myself feel, and it was good. So, so good.
I stick my feet into a pair of those thin throwaway slippers that come with the hotel bath robes and double-check that all the drapes are pulled tight.
Luca installed some kind of extra sun-blocking screen on the windows, and I marvel at the ingenuity.
I suppose he’s had a long time to come up with a few tricks.
I sneak out of the room and into the elevator as quickly and quietly as I can. I’m not sure how long he has already been asleep and can’t risk him waking up and going full possessive on my ass.
Once I’m outside the hotel, I can breathe again.
The evening sun is still bright and warm in the sky.
People sit at tables along the sidewalk, chatting over dinner and glasses of wine, the bars and restaurants busy.
On my way to my apartment, I attract a few sideways glances—dirty dress under a hotel robe, slippers, split lip—but as is the way in a busy city, nobody really sees me.
The one woman who does—the one who approaches to ask if I need help—I gently brush off, assuring her that everything is fine. It’s not, of course, but she can’t help me with my problems. She couldn’t comprehend my problems.
I reach the cool, quiet lobby of my building, and the welcoming smile on the face of Brian, the day porter, helps me slip back into the persona of Jenny Brunelli.
“Hey, Brian,” I say, leaning on his desk. “Don’t ask—it was quite a night! Can I bother you for a spare key?”
He looks me over, doubt in his eyes. Despite this, he gives me a quirk of a smile and a nod. These guys must attend some kind of training on how to react discreetly to the weirdest of situations.
“No problemo, Ms. B. Is there anything I can do for you? You need anything?”
He scoops the key from a drawer and passes it over to me as I reply, “Nah, all good, thanks. Have you been on all day, Brian?”
“Since ten. I’m here for the next five hours.”
I offer an empathetic smile. “Long shift!”
“Yeah, Jed’s wife had the baby a couple days ago, so we’re trying to cover for him as much as we can. You sure you’re okay?”
I marvel at a world where people are doing wonderful and normal human things—babies, wives, friends. It’s all so simple, so ordinary. And so damn magical.
“I’m good, thanks.” I lean in and lower my voice. “Look, I’ve got a bit of a situation—a bad breakup. You can probably tell from looking at me it’s been rough. Did Jed say anything about anyone coming in that he didn’t recognize? Has anyone been looking for me today?”
I told Luca they wouldn’t be, and I hope I was right.
Tomasso will be drawing up his next battle plans, and Pietro is his go-to guy for anything high tech—digital tracking, phone signals, cameras, liaising with local police to access their footage.
I get the feeling that Pietro won’t be up to much of anything today, but it would be stupid to not be vigilant.
“Not a thing, Ms. B,” Brian replies, frowning. “And don’t you worry—I’ll be extra cautious for you, okay? You know we don’t let anybody up who isn’t on the list, but I’ll be sure to keep an eye out just in case.”
I place my hand over his and squeeze, and he blushes in return. Bless him.
“I appreciate that, Brian—but if you do see anyone, or if any men come looking for me, don’t try to stop them, okay? Just pick up the phone and let me know.” I really hope he doesn’t decide to be a hero. The last thing I need is to be responsible for him getting hurt.
He nods, and I thank him again before heading up in the elevator. Once I’m inside my apartment, I lean on the closed door and sigh my relief. There’s no place like home.
I take a quick shower, and it’s a real battle to not let myself get lost in the vivid images of my most recent shower. Or of the aftermath.
I wasn’t thinking clearly then, and I forgive myself for that under the shitty circumstances, but from now on, I need to keep a firmer grip on my behavior.
If I’m going to solve this mystery, if I’m going to survive, then I need to cling hard to the rational side of my personality. I need to think, not fuck.
Once I’m clean and dressed, I allow myself to revel in the joy of fresh clothing before gathering up a few necessities—a couple outfits, my laptop, a spare phone, bricks of cash, and the little packages I keep stashed with new identities for emergencies.
Passports, debit cards linked to funded checking accounts, driver’s licenses.
Eventually, all I have left are the two things I truly came back here for, no matter the risk.
And it was a risk, of course. Regardless of what I said to Luca, there’s a chance they will come for me here. Tomasso could surprise me. And Brian, kind though he may be, is a middle-aged man carrying too many doughnuts over the waistband of his uniform. He would be no match for Vecchissime guards.
They wouldn’t kill him, I reassure myself. They wouldn’t risk that kind of exposure.
I retrieve my mother’s antique silver hairbrush from my dresser in the bedroom.
It’s the last thing I have of hers, and I will never let it go.
She used it to brush our hair as well as her own, and despite the passing of decades, I like to think that some of her is still there, twined between the pale cream bristles.
I sit on the edge of my bed, next to my framed picture of Serena and me from all those years ago. Two young girls with no idea of what the future had in store for them.
These things are precious. Irreplaceable.
Worth any amount of risk to retrieve. I’m not sure Luca is capable of understanding, even if I had tried to explain.
He’s been alive for hundreds of years, and I am guessing that life hasn’t treated him kindly.
That if he ever had any sentimental attachments, he abandoned them a long time ago.
Packing the picture and hairbrush into my bag makes me feel sad to be leaving the place that I have called home off and on for so long. Who knows if I will be back. Who knows if I will return here, to my little haven in the sky.