Chapter 17
LUCA
She sleeps in my arms, so soft, so trusting, so vulnerable. So perfect in every way. If it’s up to me, she will never leave my side again. I don’t care if this is because of a blood spell—I never want it to end.
I can still smell the sex we had earlier. My cum. Hers. The background scent of lemons. She snores gently, and I smile. She’s even more beautiful while she sleeps.
I hold her close and glory in the memory of it all.
Her lying helpless on the bed, trying so hard to be still as I played with her.
The way she squirted all over my hand. The taste of her blood.
Merda. I haven’t known anything like it before.
I was unaware how empty my life was until she came into it and filled it up.
She’s worth fighting and dying for. Worth living for. She might be the one who was tied up, but I am her servant.
I watch her for hours, scared that something will change if I let myself sleep. That I’ll wake up to a new reality, one without her in it.
Despite that fear, I’m drifting off when she sits upright, her eyes open and dazed. She grips the sheets and mumbled words spill from her mouth. Then her fingers go to the amulet around her neck, and I realize that she’s not simply dreaming—she’s being Called.
From what she’s told me, the Call can come night or day, and her visions are hyper-realistic.
She’s often carried inside the mind of the predators who require intervention.
I hate the thought of her being so close to the kind of filth she hunts.
They may be vampires, but they’re not my people, and I know exactly how depraved these monsters can be.
I know because I’m one of the worst of us.
Mumbling incoherently, she climbs out of bed, and I leap into her path and gently shake her bare shoulders. “Rosa! Rosa, come back to me.”
Her eyes unfocused, she knees me in the balls so hard I double over. Fuck. I was not expecting that. For a moment, I forgot what she was. She walks to the table, unrolls the pack of stakes she brought with her, and pulls one out.
Shit. I have no idea what she plans to do with that thing and I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t let her use it on me.
I push her arm away firmly, knocking the stake out of her grip, and block the kick that she aims at my stomach.
Once I get behind her, I wrap my arms around her body, trapping hers at her sides.
She puts up a fight and manages to catch my nose in a reverse headbutt.
Eventually I have her lifted off the ground, but she continues to kick her feet and claw at my skin with her nails.
Jesus, she’s strong. Not to mention vicious.
Her naked ass bounces against me, and I decide here and now that one day, when the world is less fucked up, we’re going to have a lot of fun using fighting as foreplay.
She’s showing no signs of calming down or giving up, and I throw her onto the bed in a furious heap.
She immediately flips back up, snarling, her fingers twisted into hooks that she’d love to sink into my eyes.
As she flies toward me, I slap her hard across the face, and she falls back onto the sheets.
I hate everything about it—the sound it makes, the fact that I’ve hurt her—no matter how much it needed to be done.
Thankfully, it snaps her out of her vision, and she lies there, blinking up at me, her hand going to her cheek.
“Bella, I’m so sorry!” I stroke her hair back away from her face and check her over for signs of injury. “You were out of control—I had to stop you.”
She opens and closes her jaw a few times, then gives me a big smile. “All good. Still got my teeth. Looks like I gave you a bit of a crack too. I think your nose might be broken.”
“Yeah. My balls as well. You’re quite the hellcat when you get going.”
“Why, thank you. Now hold still for a minute. Let’s fix that before it heals wrong and spoils your handsome old vampire face.
” She crouches in front of me, and I can’t help wincing as she yanks the cartilage of my nose back into place.
It’s not the first time it’s happened, and it probably won’t be the last, but it’s never going to be fun.
We sit there for a moment, examining each other’s faces, and eventually she laughs. It’s a good laugh—loud and pure and genuine.
“We are so fucked up. Normal couples get embarrassed when they fart in bed—we just beat the crap out of each other and look at us now.”
“Yeah, well. We’re not a normal couple, are we?”
“We’re not a normal anything,” she says. “I had a vision.”
“I thought as much from the cloudy eyes and the creepy stake grab and the fact that you kneed me in the balls. I happen to know that you’re usually very fond of my balls.”
“I am, yeah. They’re my favorite balls in the whole history of balls.
But I suppose you were in the way.” She pauses for a moment before continuing.
“When I’m Called, it’s all I can see. It’s one of the reasons I’ve never had a sleepover kind of relationship—it’s pretty hard to explain to a civilian. I still feel it now. It’s Kurt.”
That name keeps coming up. He’s the one who wants to hurt her.
My blood boils, and I fire questions at her.
“What did he say? What did he look like? Where was he?” Anger has clouded my mind, because of course the last question is the most important.
If he’s somewhere close, we need to prepare to fight. And he needs to prepare to die.
“He looked like the Partridge Family’s evil cousin. You know, that kind of seventies vibe some of the younger ones cling to? Charlie Manson chic.”
I do know. The hair-not-growing thing really bothers some of them, so they spend decades looking exactly the same as when they were transformed.
“He didn’t know I was there,” she continues, frowning. “That’s normal, by the way—they never know I’m there with them. That’s why I was so freaked out when you Called me that night and were able to speak to me and …”
“Gave you a mind-blowing orgasm?” I offer.
“Yeah, that.” She actually blushes, which is about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I can forgive this woman anything, broken nose included.
“He was at an airport, Luca. And the boards behind him … They said Cairo! Fuck! He’s going for Paola.”
She leaps up and grabs one of the burner phones she left out before we went to bed. She frowns as she stabs out a number. “Donatella, is that you?” she says.
A female voice can be heard over the sounds of glasses clinking, people laughing, and loud dance music. “Rosa! What the hell’s going on with you? Tomasso told everyone you’ve been kidnapped and that Pietro is missing, presumed dead, and—”
“Donna, shut the fuck up. We don’t have time for that. Are you still in Cairo? Are you at a party?”
“Yes, I’m still in Cairo, and yes, of course I’m at a party! Have you met me?”
Rosa rolls her eyes, and I get the impression that this is a lifelong ritual, a pattern that has developed over decades.
“Leave the party, Donatella. And go to Paola. She’s in danger. There’s a vamp headed her way. Name’s Kurt. He’s part of this—part of these Calls we’ve all been getting. There’s more to it, but I don’t have time to explain right now. You need to get to Paola and keep her safe.”
The background noise fades, and I imagine the Agostini Seer moving to a quiet space.
“Rosa, calm the fuck down—Paola is fine. She left for Cape Town this morning. Her parents decided she needed to be closer to home.”
“She’s not in Cairo?” Rosa echoes, her voice a combination of relief and confusion.
“No, like I just told you! She’s safe.” There’s a heavy pause. “But what about you? Tomasso said—”
“Does he know?” Rosa snaps. “Does he know that she’s been moved?”
“No, they only decided today, and Tomasso seemed preoccupied. They didn’t want to bother him. Seriously though, Rosa. Have you been fucking kidnapped or what?”
“Yeah. I was kidnapped,” Rosa says, and sadness flickers across her face. She was, of course—grabbed, drugged, tossed into a van, held captive. Just not by me. “But it’s complicated. Look, Donna, I can’t talk now, but we should meet. Can you get to New York?”
I snatch the phone from her hand before she can say another word and crush it in my fist, then throw it to the floor and stamp on it for good measure.
“Luca, what the hell?” she demands, eyes blazing.
“You can’t trust her!” I snap right back, getting in her face, towering over her. Bullying her but not giving a shit because it needs to be done. “You don’t know what’s going on. Neither of us does. She could be part of this thing.”
Her chest rises and falls with each deep breath, and she forces her hands out of fists and flexes her fingers straight. She was ready to fight but is forcing herself down. Maybe I need to do the fucking same.
“What thing?” She snatches a pair of fresh panties from the table and hops from leg to leg as she puts them on. After she adds her sweatpants, she picks up the two halves of the tank top I destroyed and scowls.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I mutter.
“Good. We can have a trip to the mall together, and you can get me a new fucking phone as well. Get dressed, will you? I can’t concentrate with your ass in my line of sight.”
I can’t keep the grin off my face. “Too distracting for you, bella?”
“Yeah, I’m not quite sure if I want to grab it or kick it. Look, before we go any further, we need to talk. And before that, could you go check on Pietro? I need to get some food, and I’ll see you back here in ten.”
The thought of her leaving this room, leaving my protection, makes all my instincts surge, and without noticing I’m doing it, I place myself between her and the door.
“Give it a rest, Luca,” she says, angry, but also … sad? Frustrated? She’s allowed to feel those things. Those things and more.
Her hand goes up to my chest, her fingers gentle on my skin. She looks up at me and smiles. Just a smile, but my heart shatters.