While Carlo called Luigi, Nic would place a call of his own to the local polizia. Thom had programmed Nic’s phone to route the call through a cell tower at the southern edge of the city, while Carlo’s phone was routed to a tower in the east. Nic’s call would be recorded, and Evangeline prayed Luigi would believe them.
“Ready for this, E?” Sylvie said as she pulled on her gloves.
A stab of fear stole her breath, but she nodded and turned around so Sylvie could snap the silver handcuffs around her wrists. The pain was immediate, and as her fangs descended, she cried out.
“Try to relax, luv.”
“I’d like to see you relax in this situation,” Evangeline muttered as Sylvie tore a strip of duct tape from a roll and pressed it across her swollen and bloody lips. With gentle hands, Sylvie guided Evangeline down to the ground, then wound a silver chain around her ankles and locked it in place.
“She’s ready.” Moving to the door, Sylvie pulled her pistol from the holster at her hip. “You deviate from the plan at all, asshole, and I’ll kill you.”
Restrained, bruised, bloodied, and absolutely terrified, Evangeline didn’t fight the few tears that trickled down her swollen cheek. Carlo dialed, sympathy in his light purple eyes.
“Capo,” he said as he held the phone up for the video call. “I have news.”
“If it does not involve Nicola or his human, I am not interested,” Luigi said, his voice sounding rougher than when he’d tortured her in his underground prison.
Carlo turned the phone, and Evangeline started to curse behind the tape, struggling against the restraints. “She came to me for help. Stupido. Despite her strength, she was not hard to subdue.”
“Where are you? I will send a car and men.”
“No.” Carlo repositioned the camera so Luigi could see his face while Evangeline continued to make terrified, helpless sounds. She’d fought Luigi every moment when he’d held her. He’d never believe she’d just give up now.
Clearing his throat, Carlo continued. “I require some…guarantees before I turn her over.”
“Watch yourself, Giancarlo. I am not inclined to negotiate with you. Give me the human. I will not forget your loyalty.”
“I want to know your plan. Tell me and she is yours.”
Evangeline screamed louder, the silver leaching the strength from her limbs and sending daggers of pain up her arms. Her fangs ached, and Nic’s panic mixed with the nausea she hadn’t been able to shake since Luigi had drugged her.
“Not over the phone. Meet me at the Conclave. With the human.”
“If I bring her with me, what is to stop you from taking her and leaving me with nothing? I will bring you a sample of Evangeline’s blood only. Once I am satisfied, I will tell you where she is.” Carlo stalked over to Evangeline and grabbed her by the hair, hauling her up so Luigi could see her tear-stained face. “As you can see, she is not going anywhere.”
Terror ripped through her, and Luigi’s snarl revealed his fangs. Memories of him feeding from her had her shaking, and she tried to tell Nic she’d be okay, but she couldn’t focus.
“Fine. Be there within the hour.”
The screen went dark, and Carlo helped Evangeline sit up. “Come now,” he said, and Nic raced into the room, followed by Sylvie.
“Get the fuck away from her,” he growled, and Carlo backed away. “Evangeline, are you all right?” Gently, he peeled the tape from her lips as Sylvie unlocked the silver cuffs around her wrists and tucked them back into the lined pouch at her hip.
“N-no. Just…hold me. Please,” she whispered. Once her legs were free, Nic gathered her in his arms and cradled her against his chest. His heart thudded under her hand.
“This had better work,” he said, glaring at Carlo. “Otherwise I will kill you for causing her pain.”
“It’ll work,” Evangeline rasped. “You didn’t see his eyes, Nic. Luigi’s desperate…I think he’s dying.”
44
Nic kept Evangeline tucked close to his side. Every one of her anguished cries had stabbed him through the heart. Only Antonio and Thom holding him back and Sylvie’s glares had kept him from racing into the hollow shell of the building and breaking Carlo’s neck.
“What do you mean, dying?” Nic asked.
With a shudder, Evangeline sank against him. “M-my mother…she said something I didn’t understand at the time. ‘I have to hurt you in order to stop him. I thought…maybe all those years with Henry had changed you enough, but…no.’”
“Changed you enough?” Sylvie said, raising a brow. “He made you immortal. That’s a big fucking change.”
Evangeline offered her a weak, lopsided smile, then winced as a drop of blood tumbled from her split lip. Nic leaned down and kissed her, taking in her blood and healing the wound as best he could without letting his arousal and need for her take over. Her little moan threatened to undo him, but he forced himself to pull away.
“From the research we decrypted, Nic and I weren’t immortal until three years ago. But we don’t know what happened to either of us after that. What if—” Evangeline peered up at Nic, uncertainty in her amethyst eyes, “—his treatments were slowly turning me into…whatever I am now? Part vampire.”
“You think if we had not escaped, you would have turned down in the catacombs,” Nic said.
With a nod, she confirmed his fears. “Yes. And my mother finished the job. Or…came close.”
“That doesn’t explain why Luigi looked so…terrible,” Carlo said.
Evangeline twined her fingers with Nic’s. An angry, red welt marred her slender wrist. The silver handcuffs. Anger flared. Only her touch kept him grounded. She seemed to feel the same, because after tightening her grip, she looked around the small group. “He…” Clearing her throat, she continued. “He fed from me three times. Not small amounts.”
Her fear chilled him over their bond, and Nic bent to brush his lips against her ear. “You are safe, cara. I will not let him touch you again.”
Forcing her shoulders straighter, she met his gaze, subtly acknowledging his promise with a shaky smile. “Every time, I…I could feel him get stronger. I couldn’t really see well. The drugs he gave me kept me too dizzy. But he forced his blood down my throat the first two times, and so I could…sense him, a little, I guess. And the last time he attacked me, something had changed. Before he bit me, he was shaky. Like…he was desperate for more of my blood. Not just because he wanted the hit. Because he needed it.”
“Like a bloody addict,” Sylvie said. “You think he’s going through withdrawals.”
“Worse. I think drinking my blood…is killing him.” She turned to Nic, trembling fingers curling against his black sweater. “When we were in the cabin, you sensed me when I was in trouble. When I was so dehydrated I nearly passed out and drowned in the tub. After, you insisted I sleep with you because you said you could sense if I got sick again.”
“Si. Once I took your blood, your body…I could feel everything. Your thirst, your headache. Your weakness. I feared for you if I left you alone.” Nic brushed his knuckles under her bruised cheek. “I can sense your injuries even now.”
“And that’s…normal? It works with any blood exchange?” Evangeline asked.
“Not every exchange, but many. I did not have the same abilities with Livia,” he said. “While I occasionally offered her a drop or two of my blood to heal an injury, she always refused.”
“Seretta always told me she could sense my health.” Carlo shoved his hands into his pockets, the deep sadness in his voice hard to hear.
Nic struggled with his feelings for the man he’d considered a son. He hated what Carlo had done to Evangeline, but could he truly cut Carlo out of his life forever?
Evangeline’s words pulled him from his thoughts. “I was too out of it when Luigi had me to understand, but I can remember more now that the drugs are out of my system. I felt…weakness. His breathing was labored. Almost like…someone was sitting on his chest.” Evange
line paused, closed her eyes, and thought for a moment. “Brittle,” she finally said. “He felt brittle.”
“Um.” Sylvie held up her hand. “I’ve had your blood, E. After I was shot in the square.”
Evangeline frowned. “This is why we need to find my mother. Do you feel any different than you did before you were shot?”
“No. And I’ve had two bags of donor blood since.” Sylvie rubbed her side and wrinkled her nose. “The bullets were coated with something. Sickly sweet and almost rotten. Bayard couldn’t stop the bleeding, and I didn’t heal. That’s why he called Vittoria.”
“The serum,” Nic managed, trying to stifle the shudder that wanted to race down his spine. “Could Luigi have the serum? Vaffanculo. We cannot confront him if he has more of it. We will be too vulnerable.”
“Did you smell it when you found me and Philipe?” Evangeline asked.
“No. Philipe’s injuries did not heal well because he was starved and very weak. The silver bullet lodged in his kidney, and the organ could not heal.”
“Henry needed both of us to manufacture the serum. Your blood. And mine. Maybe Luigi ran out. Otherwise, why wouldn’t all the guards have serum-coated bullets? And if he’s out…it’s going to take him at least another day to make more.”
“Two days,” Nic murmured. “Longo said it took him two days to distill a batch of that vile liquid. Then we must hurry.” With a nod, he looked to Sylvie. “Very well. How do we breach the Conclave?”
45
Nic handed Carlo his jacket. “Do not let your guard down for a moment.”
“Promise me, capo. You will end him.” Carlo held Nic’s gaze for a long moment, and Nic nodded.
“I swear. But you will be there to see Luigi die.” He could not think about any other eventuality. Despite his anger at what his oldest friend had done to Evangeline, taking her blood, causing her pain, he loved Carlo. “I do not know—” Nic glanced over at his life mate, talking in hushed tones with Sylvie, “—if we will ever be what we once were, amico mio. If Evangeline cannot abide by your presence, I will honor her wishes. But I do not want to lose you. You are my son. You always will be. Even if forgiveness is…difficult, and forgetting impossible.”
Carlo stared down at his shoes, his hands clasped in front of him. “And you are the only sire I have ever known. I will not ask for forgiveness. I do not deserve it. I will live with my regrets for the rest of my days—or hours.”
“Carlo.” Evangeline’s warm, delicate fingers found Nic’s, and her other hand wrapped around his arm as she held herself slightly behind him, using him as a shield between herself and Carlo. “I can’t look at you without remembering what Luigi did to me. But I know you were trying to protect us. Don’t die.”
Nic squeezed her hand, and she rushed back to Sylvie. He felt her fear over their bond, but also a subtle reassurance that she understood the complicated relationship he had with the vampire in front of him.
“If we can breach the drainage tunnels, we will find Marie and signal you. Get out of there as quickly as you can. Thom will be waiting with the car in gear.”
After a nod, Carlo held out his hand. The lump in Nic’s throat made it hard to swallow, and he pulled his son into a fierce embrace, hoping with all he was that God was on their side. “Tu vai con Dio, figlio mio.”
“Lo faro, papa.”
Antonio led the way, followed by Sylvie, Evangeline, and Nic. Thom, suited up in a uniform and posing as Carlo’s driver, waited outside the Conclave while Carlo climbed the stone steps leading to the two-hundred-year-old building.
“At the drainage tunnels,” Sylvie said over comms.
Thom replied quietly, “Carlo just entered the Conclave.”
Though Sylvie had sewn a microphone into the lining of Carlo’s jacket, he’d opted to forego comms, fearing Luigi would either hear or see the tiny device.
With his hand in the air, Antonio called for them all to stop. Signaling, he directed Sylvie to one side of a thick, metal grate three feet across and four feet tall. Nic and Evangeline took flank. Rust covered the bars, but the padlock looked to be only a few years old, and bits of corrosion had flaked off of the hinges, exposing small patches of dull iron underneath.
“Any signal?” Antonio asked. They all worried about cameras or other traps Luigi might have set.
Sylvie took a small, plastic box out of her pocket, flipped a switch, and waited. Thirty seconds later, a single green dot started to glow on one side. “We’re good, mate. Crack it.”
Clasping the padlock in both of his hands, Antonio twisted, and the metal snapped. He carefully swung the grate open, and Sylvie—by far the shortest of them—ducked inside.
Nic controlled his breathing, one hand on Evangeline’s waist, the other resting on the butt of the pistol strapped to his hip. A knife was strapped against his other thigh, and he carried two spare magazines in a chest harness. Similarly outfitted, Evangeline shifted on the balls of her feet.
“Clear,” Sylvie hissed, and one-by-one, they followed her into the murky gloom.
“Do you have it?” Luigi grabbed Carlo by the arms, and his haggard face and bloodshot eyes spoke to the sickness Evangeline had sensed from him.
Taking a step back, shocked at how easily Luigi let him go, Carlo nodded. “The human’s blood. She did not willingly part with it.” Rubbing his jaw, Carlo scoffed. “She is stronger than she looks. With a harder head.”
“The blood. Now, Giancarlo. Do not try my patience.” Luigi held out his hand, his fingers shaking.
“Are you all right, capo? You look unwell.” He had to stall as long as he could to give Nicola and the others time to find their way into the Conclave from the drainage tunnels. Even as ill as he appeared, Luigi could still snap Carlo’s neck with little to no effort.
Luigi snarled, baring his fangs. “I will be fine once you give me the blood.”
Trying to hide his relief, Carlo dipped his hand in his pocket and withdrew a small, hard plastic case. “Take it.”
“What do you want in exchange for the human?” Uncapping the vial, Luigi inhaled deeply, a low, satisfied sound rumbling in his chest. When he tipped the blood to his lips, he almost moaned, and within seconds, color returned to his skin and his eyes cleared.
Vaffanculo. I cannot fight him if this burst of strength lasts.
Carlo took two steps back and unbuttoned his jacket. Though he’d told Sylvie and Nicola he would not enter the Conclave armed, he’d tucked a small folding knife in the inside pocket of his jacket. The blade was pure silver and might be able to slit Luigi’s throat—if Carlo were quick enough.
“I had a bit of fun with her before I called you,” Carlo said as he perused the centuries of history on Luigi’s office shelves. First editions of Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Chekhov all in near mint condition, along with some of the more recent works of fine literature. “She hates you. I did not know English had quite so many…profane words. Or that they could be strung together in such…inventive ways.”
“My patience is wearing thin, Giancarlo. You are nothing to me. A young, impulsive child who professed such undying loyalty to Nicola, only to betray him without a single thought, in the end.” Leaning against his desk, Luigi crossed his arms. “Make your demands, and I will decide if I agree or if I ‘have a bit of fun’ with you until you tell me what I want to know.”
Fear coiled in Carlo’s gut. He said a quiet prayer that Nicola and the others were close, but only silence—and his own strained breathing reached his ears. “Evangeline spoke of a coming war. Of the supremacy of the vampire race under your rule. I want very little, capo. Only protection. A guarantee that if you find a way to use the human to enhance a vampire’s life span, you will not exclude me from receiving such a boon. That is all.”
A thin smile twisted Luigi’s lips. “Waste my precious research on you? I think not.” As the elderly vampire flew across the room, Carlo whipped the knife from his pocket. But before he could open it, Luigi had him by the throat.
The weapon clattered to the floor, and Luigi tightened his grip.
“Tell me, Giancarlo. Where is the human? If you confess quickly, I may let you live.”
46
The cold muck lining the drainage tunnels seeped into Evangeline’s boots. Mud oozed between her toes. Sylvie led the way, then Antonio, and Evangeline followed with Nic at her back. Hunched over, inching along in the darkness, her mind started to wander. To her mother. That tiny room. The scratches on the wall. In the cell.
Five years? How had Marie found herself in Italy? And why hadn’t Henry told her that her mother was alive?
Over comms, she heard Carlo tell Luigi that he’d ‘had fun’ with her, and Nic’s anger pulsed over their bond. “I’m fine,” she tried to send him, but in truth, though he’d insisted she take some of his blood, she could still feel the pain from the silver cuffs around her wrists. They’d left angry, red welts, almost cuts, and her ankles still held the memory of the weakness from the silver chains.
Sylvie stopped short, and Evangeline almost ran into Antonio as he followed suit. A subtle glow illuminated an electronic keypad on the stone wall.
“That should not be here,” Antonio whispered. The four of them gathered around the lock, and Sylvie flipped on a small surveillance light clipped to her shoulder. As her eyes adjusted, Evangeline reached for Nic’s hand.
“Tell me, Giancarlo. Where is the human? If you confess quickly, I will let you live.”
Over comms, the wet, dull sounds of fists hitting flesh were followed by Carlo’s choking cough. “Stay…where you…are. I will…tell you…nothing,” he gasped. “You are…a madman.”
“Perhaps.” A snap and a strangled cry made Evangeline jump and curl into Nic’s side. She knew what a broken bone felt like, sounded like. “I am also more than two thousand years old with an immortal’s blood fueling me. You are nothing. A child. Weak. You will tell me where she is once I give you a taste of my newest weapon.”
Revelations in Blood Page 25