Chapter 25
Vivi
The morning after finding Azrael and unmasking the wizard behind the curtain, Ivan wakes me with a hand on my shoulder. We’re still in my old bedroom, having decided to stay at the Valachi mansion until this war is over.
It’s kind of surreal, being back beneath my childhood roof, living once again with my sister and Damon. Nothing’s changed, and yet everything is different.
When Ivan gently shakes me awake, I’m dreaming of my childhood again, of little blond Angel and the boat at the fountain. I open my eyes and peer groggily up at the man leaning over me in the faint line that spills through a crack in the drapes. It feels early…too early.
“What time is it?”
“Early,” Ivan confirms. “You need to get dressed and head downstairs.”
His tone is laced with a sense of urgency that bleeds through my residual sleepiness and wakes me. “Has something happened?” I sit up and push the blankets aside as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed.
“Nothing yet, but we need to prepare for the worst.”
“I see.” I grab for the nearest article of clothing, the slim-fitting sheath I wore to Eduardo’s funeral, and start to pull it on. Ivan stops me.
“As pretty as you are in it, not the dress. You need to wear something you can move in.”
“Okay.” Moving to the closet, I pull out some athletic wear that I haven’t worn since high school. The leggings and T-shirt still fit fairly well, considering the years that have passed, and the tennis shoes are as comfortable as they were years ago.
Ivan nods his approval, and we head downstairs to find Evie standing in the foyer.
“Good morning, Vivi,” she starts. “Did Ivan let you know what we are doing today?”
I glance at Ivan’s retreating form. “He just told me to wear something comfortable.”
Evie eyes me up and down. “Good, then; that’ll work. You’re going to need it.”
Evie leads the way to the basement with all of its fine furnishings. I find myself looking around curiously, as though I’m a visitor in someone else’s home.
Which, technically, I suppose I am now.
Still, this was my home. I should be familiar with the basement. I’m not, though. It’s as foreign to me as if I’ve never stepped foot down here.
Throughout my childhood and teenage years at the mansion, I was never permitted to wander down here. I didn’t even know that the torture room where Ivan extracted information from Azrael’s man existed. Evie moves confidently, as if she owned the place, as if Lorenzo Valachi never slammed the basement door in her face.
We go deep into the basement, so deep that I’m sure that at some point, this part must have been extended beyond the footprint of the mansion above. Evie finally opens the door to a long room with a dirt floor, industrial lights, and targets in the distance.
Rowan, Lulu, and Carina are waiting, all of them dressed casually.
“What is this?” I ask, trying to hide my surprise.
Carina answers. “Training, kid. Ivan’s orders.”
My forehead puckers. “Why would Ivan order this? Does he expect us to fight?”
Evie replies this time. “Not you three,” she says, motioning to Lulu, Rowan, and me, but there have been too many close calls in the last few years involving daughters of Dons. Ivan doesn’t want you completely helpless so he’s asked Carina and me to show you how to protect yourself.”
She gestures to a table, and I notice a row of handguns. A cold chill runs through my body, and I back away.
“No. I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Evie says firmly. “You just point and shoot. You’ve done it before.”
I close my eyes against the reminder, stated so matter-of-factly in Evie’s implacable voice. “I didn’t want to. I had to. Please don’t make me do this.”
Rowan moves over and puts her arm around my shoulders. The tables have flipped; it’s Rowan lending me comfort and strength, when once, I was that person for her. “It’s all right, Vivi. There is a good chance that we won’t have to use any of this stuff. Ivan just wants to make sure you are safe.”
Then, keep this fucking war far away from me. I’m so tired of war.
I was with Ivan right now only because he didn’t trust anyone else to adequately protect me. Now that an alliance has been reformed between the families, there is no reason for me to be there when they confront Waylon.
Evie ignores my hesitation and walks over to the table. Her hips move with a fluidity that makes me envious. There is a raw sexuality to Evie, an innate, casual thing that she doesn’t have to work to bring out. It’s confidence.
She hands me a set of professional-looking earphones, then motions to the other sets lying on the table and looks at the other women. “Put these on. You guys, too. Hearing protection.”
Choosing a gun from the selection, she presents it to me, the weapon sitting comfortably in her outstretched hand.
“This beauty is a Walther PDP-F. Nine millimeter, semi-automatic. It’s good for women because of its smaller grip diameter and shorter length of pull.” She continues, giving me a list of specs that make my head swim.
Finally, I stop her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, and no offense, but I don’t care.”
Evie rolls her eyes and thrusts the gun toward me. “Just take it. The safety’s on. See this little piece right here? As long as it’s in this position, the gun won’t fire. It should always be in this position unless you are intending to use it.”
She holds the gun in front of me, her expression inexorable.
I don’t take it.
“Vivi…you are the wife to the most dangerous man in the city; you need to know how to use a gun.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do this, Evie. I know it seems easy to you, but I can’t.”
Rolling her lips inward—likely to prevent herself from saying something she shouldn’t—Evie turns and offers the gun to Rowan. Rowan takes it, her eyes looking my way with apology. I give her a quick, tremulous smile to show that I’m not upset.
Carina and Lulu also take guns and line up in front of the targets. Evie and Carina give brief instructions on how to stand, how to breathe, how to grip the weapon and squeeze the trigger instead of pulling it quickly.
Carina looks over each woman’s grip, nodding approval. “Okay, focus on the forehead, the dot right between the eyes, and squeeze the trigger. And then aim for the chest—”
Rowan and Lulu raise the guns. Lulu looks excited, Rowan, nervous but resigned. They fire. Neither bullet hits the target.
But the sound has sent me far from this basement shooting gallery, across the river, and into Brooklyn, where the greenhouse still stands. I see the woman slashing out with her knife at Ivan. I see how quickly she moves, her precision and accuracy. I feel the horrible weight of the gun in my hands, still warm from Eduardo’s body. My hands are surprisingly steady as I raise the gun and fire.
And fire again.
Hands. There are hands on me. I look up, and it’s Rowan, concern and confusion, etching her features. I’m crouched on the floor with my head in my hands. Tremors consume me, and my heart beats hard inside my chest, fluttering madly against my rib cage. Lulu runs over and drops to her knees beside me.
“Vivi. It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re here at home. You’re safe…” Her voice is soothing. Maternal.
Carina raises an eyebrow. Evie looks annoyed.
“She needs to pull herself together.”
Lulu snaps back. “Ease up, Evie. She has been through something horrible.”
Evie does not back down, her mouth set in stubborn lines. “That is the nature of our world, Lulu. All of us have been through horrible things, and there will be many more horrible things to come. We need to prepare for them.”
“We were raised differently than you, Evie. This isn’t normal for us,” Rowan says.
Carina shakes her head. “No. That’s no excuse. I was raised like you, and I learned to defend myself. Do you really want to be completely helpless every time someone comes after you? Strong men need strong women.”
Lulu’s fingers tighten on my shoulder. “I’m pretty sure that Ivan is strong enough for both of them.”
I’m all but forgotten on the dirt floor, the women arguing over my head. Carina crosses her arms over her chest. “But he is always putting himself in harm’s way to defend her. The least she can do is get some training so that he doesn’t have to risk so much.”
Rowan’s gaze flashes from me to her sister-in-law. “Evie, please.”
I can hear them arguing above me, and my heartbeat moves to my ears. My chest hurts. Panic and guilt flood me, and all I can do is rock back and forth.
They think I’m weak. Maybe I am weak? Maybe Carina is right. Ivan does risk his life for me, and the war is about to reach its climax. I can’t always wait for Ivan to come save me.
I stop rocking and stand, still shaking. I palm the gun I just set down and flick the safety off. Then I point it at the target, line up the sights, and fire. I fire again, and again, until the clip is empty and the gun clicks harmlessly in my hand.
Only then do I set it down and look around. The room is silent, all of the women staring at me open-mouthed.
“You can teach me how to protect myself. But I can’t use a gun.”
Evie gestures at the target, which is filled with a neat grouping of holes in the paper outline perpetrator’s head. She lifts a brow. “You have to. You already shoot better than anyone here.”
I shake my head. “No. And the ones coming at us…they don’t always use guns. How do I disarm someone who has a knife?”
Evie smiles, the expression cold and fierce on her fine features. “Now, that is something I can help you with.”