Chapter 4
EMBERLINE
We dematerialized from the island to a narrow calle off the Castello, a slip of stained stone beside a black ribbon of water, still enough to reflect the lamplight.
The close, high-walled alley trapped the damp and the smell of old fish.
Beyond the opening, a vaporetto chugged heavily past with a steady, mechanical hum through the wider waterway.
Dematerialization was a strange thing. The way Venice reformed around me, how the brine of the ocean changed to the bog of the canals, the world coming apart, then reassembling itself into something that felt like home.
The way the cold magic still clung to my skin, a temporary shield against the smothering heat of an Italian summer.
I picked at my silk blouse, draped around me like a tent, and hefted the oversized bag on my shoulder. Pushing my ridiculous, ginormous sunglasses up my nose, I pondered the dubious life choices that had brought me here.
Dressed as a rich, American tourist.
Armed to the teeth beneath my silk and cashmere.
Feeling like a fool. Dante was right. These costumes were stupid.
Right on time, a sleek wooden boat coasted up to the dock, the gleaming sides a rich, mahogany red.
“A Riva,” Luca murmured appreciatively. “You don’t see many of these anymore.”
I had to admit, the craft was a good choice. The engines were powerful, and the low profile sat close to the water, giving our enemies less of a target. Given we were all dressed in designer clothing—all Valeria had available, apparently—the brand made sense.
Gabriel lifted his hand to the pilot, and Nico caught the thrown line.
In the early evening, this far off the main promenade, no one gave us a second look.
A small, private motorboat moored along a secondary canal didn’t draw the humans’ attention, but once we drew closer to La Sala, the surveillance would be sharper.
Dante stepped off the fondamenta into the boat, then offered me his hand.
I reached down, my blond wig slipping slightly forward as I jumped down onto the deck.
“The first thing I’m going to do is rip this thing off,” I told my husband, shoving the nylon strands out of my face. “And how am I supposed to move in this ridiculous outfit? I can’t even fight,” I complained. “Or reach my weapons.”
Everything was too heavy and too loose and too fucking big.
“Well, you do look like a movie star in those sunglasses,” Dante purred, pulling me into his arms. “The most beautiful female in the entire world.”
Well, fine, then.
Some of my irritation ebbed away at the adoration in his voice.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I rested my palm on his chest. He was in dark jeans and a short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned low enough to be indecent, those tattoos climbing up his throat and down one arm on full display.
His shaggy hair was pulled back into a man-bun, and like me, his distinctive blue eyes were covered by dark sunglasses.
That sharpened jawline, though…
A dead giveaway if anyone looked too closely.
“You all know the drill. Everyone find their place, and Nico will take us in.” Gabriel’s voice was tight with nerves as he scanned the open water beyond. Once we were away from the cover of the buildings, there would be plenty of scrutiny, and we all had our parts to play.
“Luca, I want you in the back where you can see the guards clearly.”
My fingernails dug into Dante’s chest, and he caught my wrist, thumb brushing over my racing pulse.
“We’ll be right beside him,” he soothed.
I nodded, unhappy Luca would be completely exposed, but it was crucial my brother had a clear line of sight during our approach. He had to pick out every enemy and read their minds to make sure they saw us as nothing more than a boatful of harmless humans.
“Besides, it’s not like anyone will recognize him,” my husband whispered, lips quirking before he turned away, shoulders shaking.
Indeed. My brother’s hair was shorn away at the temples, spiked high at the top, and like the rest of us, his face half covered by a pair of sunglasses. His black shirt was unbuttoned to his navel, his chest dripping in enough gold to buy this boat.
I look like a douchebag, Luca’s voice echoed inside my head.
No, you don’t. Besides, it’s just a costume. I paused. And your hair will grow back in a couple of… months.
He settled himself on the long seat at the back of the boat, manspreading all the way across, steel-toed cowboy boots flashing. Dante led me to the short bench on the port side, so we’d be facing La Sala as we approached. Hopefully, getting the jump on any attack.
Easy for you to say. Why can’t I wear a wig like yours? Why did Nico have to practically shave me bald?
I glared in Nico’s direction, wrinkling my nose at the shit-eating grin on his face, the same one he’d been wearing ever since he’d gotten the clippers out and told my brother he was an expert at cutting hair. I snorted out loud.
Expert, my ass.
Yes, I’d read him the riot act when I’d walked in and seen all Luca’s dark brown curls on the floor. But what was I supposed to do?
Glue it all back on?
You look handsome. I can see your bone structure now.
You are a terrible liar, sister, but I appreciate the attempt. Now stop talking and let me concentrate.
Gabriel cast off the mooring line, and Nico steered us away with the ease of someone who’d been boating his entire life. The engines purred quietly as we moved into the canal with our lights on, throttle revving when he entered the choppier waters of the Grand Canal, busy even this late.
Gabriel straightened, looking powerful and vulnerable at the same time, the wind pulling his hair back from his chiseled, regal profile.
I’d been so angry with him this morning, but now I saw the truth. Gabriel was carrying all our fates on his shoulders. He’d forged that deal with Valeria to save us, and he would bleed himself dry to keep us alive.
I sighed, adjusting my wig.
And in return, I’d acted like an ungrateful brat.
“The darkness will help,” Dante whispered in my ear, his shoulder brushing mine as he stretched his arm out behind me and toyed with the ends of the wig. “And we got lucky. There’s a lot of boat traffic tonight.”
“I’m not sure I’d call this lucky, but okay.”
The city drifted slowly past, buildings rising like walls on both sides of the choppy canal, lamplights flickering on the water. Every bridge overhead was packed with tourists at a standstill. We dodged boats and gondolas, a few appreciative whistles at our sleek craft as we sped past.
“Let’s discuss Valeria.” Gabriel settled onto the bench on the starboard side, hands clasped between his knees, the picture of decadence. “Are we confident she won’t sell us out after we get her father back?”
“Bold of you to assume this will work.” I leaned back against Dante’s chest, a wealthy couple out for an evening cruise, showing the city off to some friends.
Gabriel gave me a sour look. “Assuming we’re successful, who’s to say she won’t sell us out to Blackwood the second she has Rocco back?” He studied the passing traffic with the stillness of a male who understood the stakes we faced tonight.
“Nico,” Gabriel called softly, “were you able to detect any lies?”
Nico Draconi was a Truthteller, a skill set useful in interrogations, I assumed, but I’d never thought about his using his magic in more… ordinary situations.
“No lies that I could detect, but I have to ask myself… once we deliver Rocco, what use does she have for us?” Nico mused, expertly steering the boat between two gondoliers, their shouts disappearing beneath the hum of the motors.
“And I’ll point out, Valeria had more mental guards than anyone I’ve ever tried to read. But she was telling the truth about rescuing her father and keeping her word.”
“She takes her oaths seriously,” Dante agreed. “And she has other means of freeing her father. We weren’t her only option.”
“She didn’t have to stick her neck out and save us, either,” Luca added. “Blackwood had us cornered yesterday. All she had to do was stand back and watch him and Giovanni scoop us up and call it a day. I say she’ll keep her word.”
I refrained from groaning out loud as literally everyone jumped in to defend Valeria.
“You didn’t…” I paused. “Happen to see her thoughts, Luca?”
“Of course not,” he said indignantly. “I don’t poke around in my friends’ heads. Or my allies,” he added quickly, seeing my face.
Well, she’s neither of those things, so poke away, I grumbled to him privately.
“I think,” Dante said carefully, “that we get through these next few hours and debate Valeria’s motives once we have Rocco back.
” His fingers brushed my bare shoulder. “The Valeria I used to know would have done anything for her father. To be honest, I’m more worried about Rocco’s motives once we get him back to the island. ”
“Gabriel did cut off his hand,” I pointed out. “I’d say his motives will be pretty fucking suspect.”
“You what?” Luca leaned forward. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“He fucking nearly got your sister killed. I should have taken his head and been done with it,” Gabriel muttered. “Then we wouldn’t be in this fucking boat, dressed like… this.” He plucked at his multicolored designer shirt.
The Castello district was bustling tonight, though it didn’t have the heavy foot traffic of San Marco or the cultivated shopping of Dorsoduro.
“Valeria gave me a code word,” I announced to the boat. “For Rocco. When she was apologizing to me over that stupid ball. Stella marina. It means starfish.” Dante stared at me, and I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I know. But she did apologize for groping you in public, so there’s that.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Dante’s mouth quirked. “I’m just… impressed, is all. That she’s still standing.”
His hand found mine in the dark, his fingers threading between mine, calluses hard, a testament to everything he’d been through before he lifted my hand to his lips.
Pressed a kiss to my knuckles without ever looking away.
What could have been an act for anyone watching became a delicious fire burning low in my belly, set off by the twin flames burning in his eyes and the wicked smile on his lips.
“There will never be anyone else for me, tesoro. Ever.” This time, when he kissed my hand, he touched the tip of his tongue to my skin, and my toes curled.
“Well, then, you’re stuck with me until the end of time, I suppose.”
“I suppose I am.”
Then he went back to surveying the canal ahead, his strong profile catching the light—the clean, severe lines of his cheeks, the strong set of his jaw, the unflinching expression that meant he was already thinking of all the ways he’d protect me once things went to shit.
“Be careful,” I murmured, squeezing his hand. “I can take care of myself, so no unnecessary risks. No matter what happens, Dante. We go in, free Rocco, and we get out.”
When he didn’t respond, a tickle of worry curled in my stomach. I knew my husband and how deep his anger ran. If my uncle or Lord Blackwood were here tonight, and he saw them…
“Dante, I mean it. Tonight is not the time to be a hero.”
We were closing in on the Sala del Giuramento, the elegant silhouette materializing out of the dark, shadow turning to substance as we came around the turn. Out of habit, I scanned the roofline as we passed, counting the number of shadowy forms moving against the night sky.
Luca was doing the same, lips pinched together as he searched their minds.
The palazzo was the epitome of old Venice, beautifully crafted in the way buildings used to be built to withstand the test of time by craftsmen who understood their craft the way no one did these days.
The upper stories were washed by the ambient light of the city, while the lower section, where ancient stone met brackish water, was black and furred with algae.
“I can’t make that promise, Emberline,” Dante murmured as we slowed down, Nico easing us toward the smaller canal leading off to our right. “If I have the chance to kill Giovanni or Blackwood, I’m taking it.”
“That’s not part of the plan,” I hissed, squeezing his hand. “Dante, this is no time to go rogue.”
“Fuck the plan. All these months, we’ve been playing the long game… I’ve been playing the long game for decades. Every day those bastards draw air is too long. They need to die, and if I can make that happen, well…”
His words trailed off as Nico steered us into the mouth of the canal, straight into oncoming boat traffic, curses trailing after us as we narrowly avoided a collision. Overhead, pale faces stared down, monitoring our progress.
I wanted to argue with him, convince him now was not the time to go off script, but we were under too much scrutiny right now.
“Any sign they suspect who we are, Luca?” Gabriel asked in a low voice.
“So far, they just think we’re careless humans,” Luca murmured as Nico barely avoided the frantic gondolier poling his packed boat out of our way. “The incompetent driving is helping.”
“Who are you calling incompetent?” Nico snapped from the cabin. “You try navigating this mess. Nobody is even following any rules. There are rules, voi stronzi,” he shouted, shaking his fist as a passing boater flipped him off.
“Just up ahead,” Gabriel said quietly, pulling the cipher out from beneath his shirt. The disc contained magic that would override any warding on the building without setting off an alarm.
“The dock is located in the building to the right. We used it as storage for cargo overflow. At least, we used to.”
Our craft inched forward as oncoming boats maneuvered around us, and I took one last look at the sliver of sky, lit by cold, flickering stars.