Chapter 40
GAbrIEL
Ihad seen death plenty of times before today.
I had been its architect.
Its instrument on numerous occasions.
I had signed orders that ended lives and walked away without losing a night’s sleep because that was what it meant to be Marcello’s heir, the chosen son, destined to inherit the D’Immortali throne. To control a corrupt, ruthless empire through little more than fear and cold, necessary violence.
But nothing—nothing in my sixty-some years—prepared me for walking through Louis and Aurora Demente’s formerly luxurious estate, the ruins still smoking in the afternoon sun.
Bodies littered the ground—servants, guards, anyone foolish enough to stand their ground and not flee. I bent over, picked up a small shoe, tiny enough to sit in the palm of my hand. I wiped off a drop of blood, my instincts screaming for me to do something.
I closed my eyes, took a breath that tasted of metal and smoke, and replayed everything Valeria had told us less than an hour ago. I hadn’t anticipated Giovanni’s bloody return nor the manner in which he’d used the Drax like some grotesque blade of vengeance.
No, the monk had only been biding his time, and I’d been lulled into complacency.
Clearly, Blackwood was no longer in charge. Some seismic power shift had occurred over these past days, and Giovanni DiRavello had landed on his feet. As fucking usual.
His message had come through loud and clear. Give me back the Basin, or blood will fill the streets of Venice.
I’d come alone, leaving even Nico behind.
I’d needed to see for myself if his anger stretched to the innocents, or if he’d only meant to make some grand, bloody statement in front of the council, like the weak-spined bastard he was. But standing in the ruins of what had once been one of the oldest estates in the Dynasty, I faced the truth.
Giovanni would kill us all in the name of power.
Some part of me still couldn’t comprehend this level of evil. Even my father’s ambition had been tempered by some twisted form of honor, but Gio lacked even that. He would murder every Dynasty member—I stared at the tiny shoe—down to the last child to fulfill what he no doubt saw as his destiny.
“Twenty-three members of the household are dead. Plus the four from this morning in the council chambers.” Severin’s boots crunched on gravel as he stepped closer. He looked as if he’d aged twenty years, from the deep lines bracketing his mouth. “I should have stopped…”
I held up my hand, cutting him off.
“If you had, you would have been added to the count. So would Valeria. No, this is on Giovanni. And Blackwood. This blood is on their hands, not ours.”
“The wounds are consistent with what I saw this morning,” Severin continued, the commander’s voice reedy as he scanned the bloodied grounds.
“They unleashed the Drax on these poor souls, and they didn’t die quickly, either.
A few might have been questioned first. Hard to tell with the extent of the wounds. ”
“Questioned about what?”
“Valeria, most likely. Chances are, they suspect she’s the one hiding you, and they’re searching for the location.
Rocco was always a cagey bastard, and while there were rumors he had a house in the city, even I didn’t know about the island.
But as you know, in our world, nothing stays hidden forever. ”
That tracked and also meant our time was dwindling.
“According to Valeria, no one outside the bloodline knows about the island,” I said quietly. “But given Rocco’s inside the villa, pissed off and disillusioned, I wouldn’t put it past him to sell out his own daughter.”
“Giovanni will target another family.” Severin stared out over the wreckage, squinting against the smoke. “He’ll be looking for a response from you.”
“I know. He’ll get one,” I murmured, deciding what, exactly, that would look like.
My knife in his throat, if I had my way.
“Gabriel. I watched those things today. Once I was over my initial fucking shock…” He shook his head, and the hand resting on his weapon was shaking.
“None of my soldiers—even the best trained—can stand against those things. They’ll wipe us out.
I counted over a hundred, and I expect they have more in reserve. ”
“I’m going to need you and Emilia at the villa before nightfall.” I tucked the shoe into my pocket. “Bring me any ideas you might have, no matter how unorthodox. If taking Blackwood out is the only way to eliminate the threat, then…”
“You can’t kill him,” Severin interrupted. “Besides the fact it will destabilize Rome for years to come… given his age, I don’t believe any of us can kill him single-handedly. Except perhaps Emilia.”
“Then I expect options,” I snapped. “I’m to the point where Rome is not my fucking problem. We’ve been dragging our feet for weeks, and now…” My gaze tracked over the bodies, guilt swamping me. “Now we move. We stamp out the rot. And we rebuild from whatever is left.”
“He’ll start with the families who are loyal to you. Anyone who spoke in your favor, anyone connected to you or Emberline.” His voice went flat, like he was reporting a tactical situation, not an extermination. “I’ll do what I can. Send word to all your allies to evacuate, offer help where we can.”
“Use Valeria’s smuggler friends to get people out.” I nodded, watching a plume of black smoke float across the countryside. “As far as exposure, speed is more important than secrecy at this point. I don’t want one more vampire hauled in front of the council.”
“Understood. I’ll get this cleaned up, and speaking of exposure, you should head back to the villa. Soon enough, there will be plenty of attention on this place.”
He turned to leave, and I stopped him.
“Can I ask you a question, Severin?”
“Of course.”
“Is the Dynasty even worth saving?” I paused, the sight of that tiny shoe making it impossible to breathe.
“What I mean is, would it be wiser to just start over again? I was thinking… as evil and corrupt as this empire has become, I wonder if we should get the decent vampires out and let the rot collapse upon itself.”
Severin’s expression tightened, but his attention wasn’t on me.
It was fixed on something beyond me. “This Dynasty was built on the will and the resolve of two of the strongest people I’ve ever known,” he said quietly, his voice thrumming with emotion.
“The bones are good, Gabriel; it’s the greed that’s eaten into the mortar and the brick, but beneath that rot…
the foundation is still solid. Starting over would require you—all of you—to sacrifice everything you are.
Your futures. Your love.” He shook his head slowly.
“You’ve spent your entire life believing in the Dynasty.
Don’t give up now, not when there is still something worth saving. ”
“Get everyone out you can. By any means necessary,” I murmured, Severin meeting my gaze steadily. “And be at the villa by nightfall. We have work to do.”
I looked back at the courtyard, bile clogging my throat, swamped by guilt. “Make sure they all have a pyre. I want them properly sent off. Especially the… children.”
He dipped his head. “I’ll file a report stating the fire was reported by nearby humans, and I had no choice but to cordon off the area. That should satisfy the council paper pushers.”
“I need to tell Valeria.” I swallowed. “I’ll keep details to a minimum.”
“That would be for the best. The poor girl was traumatized today. She’s seen a lot, given she’s Rocco’s daughter, but today was…” He sucked in a breath. “The less she knows, the better. There’s nothing she—or any of us—can do for them now.”
“Don’t forget the pyres.”
“Already arranged. Emilia’s priests will take care of them.”
Of course, they would. Severin had served this Dynasty longer than most, had served my father for his entire rule as Don, and I wondered, not for the first time, what he truly thought of me.
“You told me something once,” I turned away from the carnage. “When I was young. You said power is a mirror, reflecting the soul of whichever person wields it. Do you still believe that?”
A faint smile dug those lines deeper into his rugged face. “Oh, I believe it even more now. True power is not the ability to bend others to your will, but the wisdom to know when your will must bend to the needs of others.”
“Then that is what we will do. Bend to the needs of others. Protect who you can, Severin. No more playing politics,” I said. “No more holding back. Spread the word, use Valeria’s network to get the word out. War is coming. Any vampire capable of leaving the city should get out as soon as possible.”
“And the humans?”
“There’s still a perimeter in place around La Sala, correct?”
He nodded.
“Then for the moment, we watch and learn everything we can about what we’re up against. The best scenario would be to draw our enemies out of the city. We’ll work on a strategy for that.”
“It will take me a few hours to get soldiers in place and lock this estate down.”
“I need to go back,” I said heavily. “Tell Valeria what happened to her family, and then we’ll get started on a plan. I will become the Don this Dynasty deserves. Even if it’s only for a few days or a week. So long as when this is over, Giovanni is dead and Blackwood is gone.”
Severin nodded once. “Then let’s plan a war.”
I did not look back before I dematerialized.
The weight of what happened here would always stay with me, that I knew. A stain on my soul I’d never scrub out, no matter how many lives I saved or how many deaths I prevented.
Soon, I would tell Valeria as little as possible. Watch her collapse when I could only give her meaningless words in return for her sorrow.
I would tell Emberline everything because I couldn’t keep secrets from her. She would tell me I’d done everything I could, when we both knew that wasn’t true.
Then I’d find somewhere quiet to fall apart, and when I was finished feeling sorry for myself, Dante, Nico, and I would construct a plan to destroy Giovanni and everything he’d ever touched.
Giovanni had sent me that message and hoped we’d break. That having Dynasty blood on my hands would force me to crawl out of hiding and prostrate myself at his feet.
He had miscalculated.
There would be no more caution. No more hedging. No more picking our battles carefully.
We were going to wage all-out war.
The kind of war that levels cities and could cost us everything—our lives, the people we loved, the future we’d dreamed of—because some things are worth dying for.
Somewhere deep inside, I had always known it would come down to this.
That wearing the crown came with a price, and that price was my life, either in servitude or in blood, and either way, the Dynasty would own me for life. I suddenly felt lighter, because that choice wasn’t being forced upon me… I was choosing this for myself.
Because I was the Don.
And the Don did not get to walk away.