Chapter 40 There Is Another War
There Is Another War
Aria Amora
My head whipped in the direction of Nel Cielo, and a gust of wind whipped my hair across my face. By the time I was able to push the hair out of my eyes, it seemed as if all hell had broken loose on our property.
Gunfire erupted close to Nel Cielo, and it was beginning to pop up all over the place.
“We must get Signora Fausti to safety!” Ermanno shouted, and from underneath his shirt, he pulled out a small pistol. He turned Uncle Tito around so fast in the wheelchair, Uncle Tito had to grab onto the handles, his frail knuckles turning white.
Thandie was already on it. She had her gun in position, and she was standing next to me. I couldn’t hear anything from her earpiece, but judging by how fast her eyes darted around, she understood what was going on.
“We’re being attacked,” she whispered in a no-nonsense voice. “We need to get to the emergency exit routes—Ari—!”
She caught me before I could get too far.
I had taken off to find my husband before she could even finish her sentence.
All the other women had stayed behind in Nel Cielo to enjoy coffee while I took my walk with Uncle Tito to give him the news about the baby and her name.
He had said his wife would’ve been so pleased, which in turn made him seem so pleased.
I hadn’t seen warmth in his cheeks since Aunt Lola had passed, and he had it.
Uncle Tito said our baby was meant to be, and she was a child that was going to fulfill so many dreams. Even though the baby was not his and Lola’s, she had the name they would have given a daughter, and she carried the Fausti blood, which meant his Lola would live on in her.
It was the most I’d heard him speak since Aunt Lola passed, and my blood was still warm because of it, but the ice cold of the moment seized me.
“I—” I barely got out “—I have to get to my husband!”
“Your husband is safe.” Thandie squeezed my hand. “If something happens to you, understandably, the world won’t be—not until he burns it down, himself in it. Now. Listen to me. We must move.”
My eyes glanced in the distance, where gunfire seemed the most concentrated. We had escape routes in Nel Cielo. I imagined all the women fleeing, their men getting them to safety. My husband, though, would come looking for me.
“Rocco will—”
Thandie all but picked me up to get me moving, her body like glue on mine. “Trust me, Aria,” she said in a voice that commanded me to do so.
I realized in that moment that I would never trust another person the way I trusted my husband. He was my world, and I knew he’d burn his down to protect me, to be with me. As much as I loved and respected Thandie, I had faith in the above, and I trusted one person completely—my husband.
Ermanno held a gun, almost flying over the tarmac, turning toward a more heavily wooded area to get Uncle Tito out. Uncle Tito was too old and frail to do anything but barely hang on. We were following Ermanno.
“Trust only goes so far with me, Thandie,” I whispered as we ran.
She heard me. Maybe the wind had taken my voice and carried it to her ears.
She nodded. “Good. In this life, you should feel that way.”
We had an understanding, then.
“Ermanno!” Thandie shouted.
“I must find Azzurra! She will be close to the escape route. This is where we come to kiss!”
Oh my God. Azzurra!
We took another sharp turn, the pops and explosions fading into the background, and then it seemed like we all slid to a stop.
It was so sudden, Uncle Tito went flying out of his wheelchair.
He made a frail noise as he hit the ground.
None of us could move to help him, though.
Ita stood in the woods with a gun pointed right at us.
“A trap!” she screeched, her voice high-pitched and as crazed as the gunfire and explosions.
“I led you toooo a trap,” she sang. “He told me it would work, and it did!” She pointed the gun directly at me.
“What do you have to say for yourself, you tramp? Any final words? This is what they say in the movies, no?” She grinned at me, and my blood ran ice cold.
Thandie’s weapon was out, but she was keeping it hidden. I knew she was hesitant to use it, though, because Ita could get a shot off before Thandie could get a shot at her. Rustling from the ground made me look down. Uncle Tito was using the strength of his arms to get to his feet.
Ita didn’t even look when he rose to his full height, which wasn’t all that tall, especially since he was hunched over. He called Ita “girl” and said in a voice so sharp, it reminded me of the cold wind, “You will not hurt Avelina!”
He wanted Ita to shoot him. He was welcoming death. He had his arms spread, and his entire body trembled. Not with the strain of old age, but with pure rage.
Ita laughed at him but didn’t take her eyes from me as she spoke to him. “Sit down, you old geezer, before you hurt yourself.”
Uncle Tito was about to move in front of her, but he slipped and went down, cursing as he did.
At this moment, Ermanno tore away from the scene, heading toward where he said he and Azzurra went to kiss.
Ita didn’t even flinch. Her parents stepped out of the woods, and they were holding guns, too. It was a frigging family affair!
“We serve our chosen king.” Nik Novak spat a loogie toward me.
Irena Novak kicked at Uncle Tito. “You were loyal to the most ruthless king,” she whispered with venom, turning the gun on him.
“Marzio,” she said in a mocking voice. “He killed my father!” The gun was trembling with her rage.
“Now you will lie with the dogs you saved and be eaten by the worms and turned into dust.”
“Dust to dust we all shall return,” Uncle Tito said. “Even you, Irena.” Uncle Tito looked up at her with acceptance on his face. He opened his arms to her, as if to say, take your shot, you are doing me a favor.
Irena screeched just like her daughter had and kicked him in the ribs.
Thandie held my arm. The instinct to protect the weak was so ingrained in me, I hadn’t even realized I’d moved until she applied pressure to my arm.
She was still holding her gun up, one-handed, after she reminded me not to move, but she couldn’t use it.
Irena went to kick Uncle Tito again, but her husband’s next words froze her cold, her gun swinging to us.
Nik nodded toward Thandie’s gun. “Set it down,” he said in broken English. “Slowly.”
“Or what?” Thandie breathed out. “You’re going to kill us?”
“We will kill you,” the father said. “The rightful king and his child will begin a new reign!”
Ita smiled at me, and in that moment, I truly felt the craze that was locked up inside of her.
Rosaria and her sister, Abree, had nothing, not a damn thing, on these people.
Absentmindedly, I wondered if the air was ice cold because of their mania.
I felt it like a physical thing, sticking to my skin and burning.
The only warmth about me was the baby in my womb, reminding me that I would fight to the death to protect… her.
Gunfire was growing closer.
“Now!” Nik nodded to my stomach. “Take your shot now, daughter! Do not allow the future king’s wife or spawn to live. We must end this line!”
Three things seemed to happen at once—Irena went to shoot Uncle Tito in the head, but she was shot down before she could, and Thandie shot Ita, then took out Nik, but Ita seemed indestructible. I was knocked to the ground as Ita opened fire on me, even being wounded.
At first, I wasn’t sure if I had been hit. I only knew that gunfire was erupting all around me, and Massimo’s heavy body was on top of mine.
My husband’s voice seemed to come at me through a tunnel filled with fire.
My ears were ringing, and there was a burning in my lungs.
I instantly smelled the coppery scent of blood.
Maybe my nose had been broken as it hit the ground.
I couldn’t breathe, and it felt like the cold was descending, piercing needles on all the spots that hurt the worst.
The weight was lifted suddenly, and I felt frozen to the ground.
I was gasping for breath. My husband was frantic, feeling over me and feeling over Massimo at the same time, a hand on each of us.
He was roaring, the sound almost exploding the inside of my eardrums, as if the bass of his voice was stuck inside of the tunnel, and it was beginning to echo inside of my head.
My trembling hand came down to my stomach, wondering if this was the end for all of us.
My other hand came up and touched my husband’s face. He took my hand, and it felt like he broke every bone in it. He was kissing my pulse, repeatedly, and he was roaring out orders.
A beam of light seemed to pierce through the overhead branches, and when my eyes found it, I couldn’t look away.
My husband, as violently as he was shouting, turned my face toward his.
Our eyes met, and his mouth moved, just like Uncle Tito’s.
I could’ve sworn I heard the chanting, though.
You will not leave me. You will not leave me. Oh God, do not allow her to leave me!
My husband was on his haunches next to me. Sweat ran down his face in charcoal covered ribbons, and I felt it splash my face in warm droplets before the salt seemed to freeze on my skin.
Maybe I had been shot and was in shock.
The smell of blood was making my stomach turn, it was so strong. And I was feeling warmth, even though I was freezing cold.
My eyes turned slightly to the side, and I could’ve sworn an angel was beside me.
She had long golden hair and the most beautiful blue eyes, but her hands and white coat were burgundy with blood.
She was shouting orders as she hovered over Massimo.
I couldn’t see his face. She was covering him, and for some reason, the thought of losing him sent my heart into a panic, and my breaths were almost too shallow to catch.
All I felt were needles piercing me on the inside whenever I took a breath.
I turned my head to the other side, and that was when I met eyes with another angel. Uncle Tito. He had crawled his way over to me, and his hands were on me, his mouth moving again.
In the distance, more gunshots rang out.
It was an odd combination.
Voices were in a tunnel, so were the loud pops and explosions, but…they were beginning to fade. All but my husband’s voice and Uncle Tito’s, but the voices were twisting, becoming one, before the words faded altogether like a whispered prayer.
When I thought the word prayer…it felt like I was levitating.
I closed my eyes to the sensation, but my husband’s voice ordered me to open my eyes, and it felt like a command.
I was tired. So tired. But I slowly opened my eyes.
I realized we were running deeper into the woods, about to clear the other side.
The cold air seemed to slap me in the face, and I could make out a caravan of vehicles in the distance.
The armored SUVs were in a line, one pulling off as fast as the one before it.
Rocco seemed to jump inside of one, me in his arms, and in the next second, the door slammed shut and the tires screamed as we tore away from the property.
I moaned as the car rocked. Somewhere in my shoulder, a fire burned, unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
It felt like someone was taking a blowtorch to my skin.
“Shh, my Amora,” Rocco pulled me closer to his heart, so close, it almost seemed like his heart was beating against mine, but when my eyes found his, I lost my breath. His eyes were dilated, and so wild, I almost wanted to crawl out of his arms and get closer to the man sitting next to me.
An actual man, not a crazed animal full of blood.
Uncle Tito.
Someone had shoved him into the same SUV, probably at my husband’s order.
Uncle Tito had my wrist in his hand, and his eyes were closed.
He was keeping tabs on my pulse. When I’d lost my breath, his eyes came to mine until my heart rate must’ve faded into a normal rhythm again, or one he thought was acceptable.
The truth hit me then.
My husband’s eyes were not for me—they were for a world that had done this to me, his son and his unborn daughter, to everyone we cared about who had all been on our property, our home, who had suffered from being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
What was supposed to be a safe place from the world had become a war zone.