Chapter 10
DANTE DOMINICO
The rendezvous point—a sheltered, secondary canal just off the Grand Canal—was confined enough to ramp up my panic every time I thought about my wife.
The only bright spot in today’s clusterfuck of epic proportions?
I was no longer naked.
My borrowed shirt was too tight and smelled like another male’s sour sweat. The pants didn’t reach my ankles, the too-small boots pinched my feet, and yet I sent the unnamed Demente soldier another silent thank you.
The male hadn’t argued when I’d rematerialized and demanded he give me his clothing.
No, he’d taken one look at the flames burning all over my body and stripped bare, throwing everything in my face before fleeing in his silk boxers.
I snorted. Who the fuck wore silk boxers?
Who bothered wearing boxers at all?
“No sign of the Riva.” Gabriel walked back and forth along the fondamenta, practically wearing a groove in the stone. “They’ve been pinging the tracker but get nothing but radio silence. They’ll keep trying.”
My brother threw Nico another venomous glare, then went back to his useless pacing, cursing beneath his breath. Closing my eyes, I reached out across the quiet city, searching for my wife.
And like the last ten times… I found nothing.
Panic burrowed in a little deeper beneath my skin.
Inhaling a lungful of canal-drenched air, I reminded myself Emberline was capable of taking care of herself.
That Luca was with her—which wasn’t so much a comfort as a reminder she wasn’t alone.
But it took every bit of my self-control to wait for them to appear as my mind came up with a million terrifying scenarios. I curled my hands into fists, stopping myself from dematerializing to La Sala, ripping the doors off the building and Giovanni DiRavello’s head off his shoulders.
Nico leaned against a nearby wall, hands in his pockets, seemingly incapable of making eye contact. He hadn’t said a single word since we’d gotten here.
Not one.
Gabriel stalked past me, his face a storm of the same unanswered questions churning inside me.
What the fuck were those things?
And why did Nico know everything about them?
Rocco was already on his way back to the island. Dematerializing had very nearly killed him; only the quick thinking of the waiting healers had stabilized the bleeding enough to load him onto a boat. Now, he was headed for home.
Mission. Fucking. Accomplished.
Now, all I needed was my wife.
Another deep inhale filled my lungs with diesel fumes, still choking the narrow calle from the boat that carried Rocco away. One of the Demente soldiers asked timidly how much longer we were going to wait, and Gabriel nearly bit his head off.
Nobody asked again.
I drifted toward the open end of the alley, where the city streets were nearly empty in the predawn hours. It had been thirty minutes since we’d returned, but it might as well have been thirty years for the fear masticating my heart.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” my brother demanded, stepping in front of me. “Give her another couple minutes.”
“I’ve given this more time than I should have. We never should have left her behind.”
“We don’t even know she’s still there. The boat was gone,” his attention drifted over to Nico. “He made a logical deduction. For all we know, they’re on their…”
I froze, my nose flaring as I turned to the west. A ripple of Emberline’s presence echoed down our bond… followed by a wave of pure panic.
“I’ve got her,” was all I could manage, then I was gone, flying through the darkness toward La Sala, honed in on my wife.
When she disappeared, I changed direction, flying even faster over the labyrinthian streets, my heart jammed in my throat until I finally realized she was heading towards familiar territory—the safehouse.
Gods, Emberline must be desperate to go back there.
Chances were, Giovanni had posted guards on the off chance one of us showed up, but I didn’t give a shit about him. I needed to put eyes on my wife, reassure myself she wasn’t hurt.
I landed in the narrow alleyway, hand slapping against a cracked stone wall to steady myself.
The safehouse was abandoned. No signs of life except for… My nostrils flared at the thick, metallic scent. Blood. Hope died, and the world went black as a thousand scenarios flashed through my head.
My wife was badly injured.
She was bleeding, and she’d dropped out of the sky, and…
Shoes scuffed on pavement as Gabriel materialized beside me, wildly scanning our surroundings, catching the same cloying, coppery scent, and my heart clenched in fear and something far more frightening.
Then the scent of lemons and lavender drifted out from a darkened corner, and I bolted down the narrow alley. There she was, leading a shell-shocked Luca by the hand.
Her arm was smeared in dried blood, and my fear didn’t yield. It strangled.
My wife stopped. Sobbed out my name.
Then she was running. We crashed into each other, Emberline repeating my name, over and over, her whole body shaking as I held her close, my nose buried deep in her hair, searching out where she was injured and how badly.
Gods. She was alive.
I set her on her feet with trembling hands, then pushed the hair out of her face to get a better look at her wide, tear-lined eyes. Dark. Full of terror and something bleaker that shook me to the core. Whatever had happened… whatever she’d seen…
Later.
We would talk about it later.
I checked her over more thoroughly, cataloging what I’d missed before.
The deep gashes beneath the dried blood, four evenly spaced marks, almost to the bone.
“Ashbound?” I asked softly, recognizing the pattern.
I turned her hand over gently, moving her fingers to make sure there was no tendon damage.
“I wasn’t looking, and the damned thing got me good.” She grimaced when I rotated her thumb. “Won’t stop bleeding.”
She sounded so irritated, some of my fear edged off. “Is your brother hurt?” I nodded down the alley to Luca, at the shell-shocked expression on his face and the splash of blood on his bicep.
“Just shaken up, I think,” she whispered, her fingers digging into my arm.
“Did everyone get out alive? Where is Nico? What about Rocco? Who stole our godsdamned boat?”
More of that tension inside me loosened at her direct, rapid-fire questions, at the fact she was pissed off and furious and surprisingly intact, given the gauntlet of guards and monsters she’d faced. I gathered her closer, pressed tight against me, her heart thumping in tandem with mine.
“Everyone is fine. But… gods, I thought I’d lost you.” The words escaped before I could stop them.
She just laughed, pulling back to cup my face.
“We went back for the boat, but it was gone, and then… there was this… thing. Like a spider. And Blackwood’s guards casting creepy black magic. And Ashbound. We had no choice but to hide in one of the tunnels leading to the palazzo, only to run into even more of them, and…”
She shot a worried look at her brother. “There’s more I have to tell you, but we should get moving. I’m afraid I left a blood trail behind us.”
Gabriel immediately tore off the bottom of his shirt—I didn’t have any fucking fabric to spare—and bound up her arm.
“She’s right.” Gabriel gestured for us to follow him. “We’ll lead you both to the rendezvous point; there’s a boat waiting to take us out of the city and back to the island. The boat’s warded, so we should be able to get out of the city unnoticed. You can fill us in during the ride.”
She frowned, then used her nail to scrape something off my cheek. Probably dried blood.
“Are you okay?” Her voice gentled, fingers catching my arm. “Things got pretty intense back there.”
She meant when the demon took me over.
“I’m good,” I stretched out my arms and made a turn. “I like these clothes, even if they are a bit tight.”
Her lips curved up into a smile. “Just a bit. At some point, you’re really going to have to work out your clothing issues, husband.”
I couldn’t describe the warm, happy feeling I got when she called me that, but she was right.
We had to move.
Luca looked exhausted, his skin several shades paler than before, and every few seconds, he rubbed absentmindedly at his right arm, where a speck of blood stained his shirt.
“Here. Let me take a look at that,” Gabriel reached for him, but the kid jerked away. “You’ve been rubbing it for the last five minutes.”
“I’m fine, just a scratch. Nothing serious and I’m already healing.”
“He wouldn’t let me look at it, either.” Her eyes found mine, filled with worry. “He’s spooked, is all. I can’t say I blame him.”
“You’re sure you aren’t injured?” I threaded my fingers through hers, loath to let her go. “You look remarkably unscathed for fighting your way out of the palazzo.”
“I’m fine, just,”—she chewed her bottom lip—“a little shaken up by what we saw inside. And by Blackwood.”
Fear bloomed beneath my ribs with sudden heat, instinctively drawing her close against me.
“You saw Cesare Blackwood?”
“In the flesh. He was waiting for us in the council room.”
I could barely fucking breathe. “Why the fuck was he…”
“Dante, we need to get out of the city before those guards track us here or my uncle closes the canals down,” she said gently. “Once we’re back on the island, I’ll tell you everything… but I don’t think Valeria should know what we saw tonight… not yet.”
“She’s right,” Gabriel squared his shoulders. “We keep this information close to the vest until we understand how involved Blackwood is and what the fuck those things were.”