Chapter 39
Dinner that night was an informal affair, even if it was held in the grand dining hall. Platters of simple, hearty food were consumed with easy conversation, the air thick with anticipation for the fight.
Giana picked at her food, her mind already racing through firewall protocols. Rodrigo's presence beside her was a steady, reassuring warmth, his thigh pressed against hers under the table.
As the remnants of the meal were cleared, Altun rose gracefully from her seat beside Julian. She caught Rodrigo's eye, then Giana's. "Can I have a word with you two?"
Rodrigo nodded, pushing back his chair. Giana followed, a knot of apprehension tightening in her stomach.
Altun led them through a side archway into a smaller, book-lined anteroom that smelled of old parchment and beeswax.
Julian followed them and closed the heavy door.
Altun turned to face them, her expression uncharacteristically serious.
"There is a magical signature on the van you bought here," she began without preamble.
"It is hard to explain, but it is like a resonance that is unique to the caster.
I checked the men you brought in, too, and it was as if someone had touched them with magic and then withdrew.
I don't know if it was a type of control spell or if it was to wipe their memories of a face or faces they had seen. "
"Are you sure?" Rodrigo asked, his brows lowering.
"Why would I lie? I don't know who is backing Vincenzo, but this magic feels…wrong. It's a kind of death magic, and before you ask, I felt it recently enough that I'm not mistaken."
Rodrigo went very still. "Where?"
"Istanbul," Altun replied, hesitating. "The night of the attack on Kon's warehouse. Whoever this 'Old Man' is, he wields magic that I've only encountered once, and that person should be dead."
"You can't seriously be thinking of Serapis. There is no way that he could have survived that fall into the ocean," Rodrigo replied, eyes widening.
"I know, and I'm not certain, but the magic is so similar, it is eerie," Altun replied.
Cold dread seeped into Giana's bones. Magic. Real, dangerous magic. It was one thing to fight men with guns, but it was another entirely to face something… other.
She had never met Serapis, the occultist who had pretended to be a member of Rodrigo's father's family for generations.
Gabriella had died when she had dragged him over the side of a sea cliff, but they never found his body.
She was suddenly glad that Athena and Frederica had taught her to always shoot for the heart and the head.
"It doesn't matter who it is," Rodrigo argued. "The compound is hallowed ground, Altun. Consecrated. Necromantic magic can't cross its threshold. Gūl, like the ones Serapis had in Istanbul, can't touch us here."
Altun nodded slowly, but her eyes remained troubled.
"Gūl, no. The ancient wards hold against such abominations.
But Rodrigo, hallowed ground only disrupts necromancy and demonic activity.
There are other magics. Curses woven from hatred and ambition that draw power from pain, not corpses.
The old monastery wards you have here are not designed against such things. "
She looked from Rodrigo to Giana, her gaze piercing. "If this person is anything like Serapis, they will be smart enough to find a way around them."
The silence that followed was broken only by the soft crackle of the fireplace.
The stone walls of the villa, which had always felt like an impenetrable fortress, suddenly seemed less certain.
It was meant to be their sanctuary, but Altun's words painted a picture of a threat that could slither through the cracks.
Giana knew certain forms of magic were real, but she had never seen them in person before. How could they defend against such power if they didn't know magic themselves?
"We need to find out who is capable of wielding that kind of magic and why the hell they would want to work with a little weasel like Vincenzo," Rodrigo said finally.
"I don't know, but I would bet any treasure in my collection that they were taught by Serapis at some point in their lives.
All students carry the mark of their teachers, whether they want to or not," Altun replied, a small crease between her brows.
"No matter how good they are, they will have to be exceptional to take on both Kon and me.
We can handle them, Rodrigo. I only thought you should know the threat isn't all bullets and blades. "
Julian stirred from his post by the door, his voice a low rumble. "So we fight men, machines, and possibly pissed-off nature spirits or some geriatric warlock's pet curse. Our average Tuesday, then."
A ghost of a smile touched Altun's lips. "Try not to sound so excited, love."
"I can't help it. I like to live dangerously," he said, sending her a smoldering look. "It's why every day with you is an adventure."
"Careful, charm like that will get you everywhere," she replied, her smile now reaching her eyes.
The meeting broke up, and Julian escorted Altun back toward the main hall, leaving Rodrigo and Giana alone in the candlelit anteroom.
Altun's warning of magic pressed down on them, a new layer of dread added to the already suffocating anticipation of the siege. The familiar scent of old books and beeswax felt cloying now, the shadows deeper, more menacing.
Rodrigo's fierce, unwavering eyes held hers. "Whatever comes next, I want you to know that you're not alone anymore, Giana. You stand with me. With us. We won't let anything happen to you, magic or otherwise."
Giana closed the distance between them, her body fitting against his. She wound her arms around his neck and rose up on her tiptoes.
"You're not alone either, Rodrigo, and there is no one I'd rather have at my side in a siege," she whispered against his lips before she kissed him. She loved this complex, dangerous man, and she wanted him to know it, especially when a fight was coming.
Rodrigo's arms locked around her, crushing her to him, his mouth moving against hers with equal parts desperation and devotion.
Bullets or magic, Vincenzo could throw whatever he liked at them. Somehow, Giana knew that if she had Rodrigo with her, there wasn't anything she couldn't survive.