Page 11 of Devoted

You are a terrible liar, sister, but I appreciate the attempt. Now stop talking and let me concentrate.

Gabriel cast off the mooring line, and Nico steered us away with the ease of someone who’d been boating his entire life. The engines purred quietly as we moved into the canal with our lights on, throttle revving when he entered the choppier waters of the Grand Canal, busy even this late.

Gabriel straightened, looking powerful and vulnerable at the same time, the wind pulling his hair back from his chiseled, regal profile.

I’d been so angry with him this morning, but now I saw the truth. Gabriel was carrying all our fates on his shoulders. He’d forged that deal with Valeria to save us, and he would bleed himself dry to keep us alive.

I sighed, adjusting my wig.

And in return, I’d acted like an ungrateful brat.

“The darkness will help,” Dante whispered in my ear, his shoulder brushing mine as he stretched his arm out behind me and toyed with the ends of the wig. “And we got lucky. There’s a lot of boat traffic tonight.”

“I’m not sure I’d call this lucky, but okay.”

The city drifted slowly past, buildings rising like walls on both sides of the choppy canal, lamplights flickering on the water. Every bridge overhead was packed with tourists at a standstill. We dodged boats and gondolas, a few appreciative whistles at our sleek craft as we sped past.

“Let’s discuss Valeria.” Gabriel settled onto the bench on the starboard side, hands clasped between his knees, the picture of decadence. “Are we confident she won’t sell us out after we get her father back?”

“Bold of you to assume this will work.” I leaned back against Dante’s chest, a wealthy couple out for an evening cruise, showing the city off to some friends.

Gabriel gave me a sour look. “Assuming we’re successful, who’s to say she won’t sell us out to Blackwood the second she has Rocco back?” He studied the passing traffic with the stillness of a male who understood the stakes we faced tonight.

“Nico,” Gabriel called softly, “were you able to detect any lies?”

Nico Draconi was a Truthteller, a skill set useful in interrogations, I assumed, but I’d never thought about his using his magic in more… ordinary situations.

“No lies that I could detect, but I have to ask myself… once we deliver Rocco, what use does she have for us?” Nico mused, expertly steering the boat between two gondoliers, their shouts disappearing beneath the hum of the motors.

“And I’ll point out, Valeria had more mental guards than anyone I’ve ever tried to read. But she was telling the truth about rescuing her father and keeping her word.”

“She takes her oaths seriously,” Dante agreed. “And she has other means of freeing her father. We weren’t her only option.”

“She didn’t have to stick her neck out and save us, either,” Luca added. “Blackwood had us cornered yesterday. All she had to do was stand back and watch him and Giovanni scoop us up and call it a day. I say she’ll keep her word.”

I refrained from groaning out loud as literally everyone jumped in to defend Valeria.

“You didn’t…” I paused. “Happen to see her thoughts, Luca?”

“Of course not,” he said indignantly. “I don’t poke around in my friends’ heads. Or my allies,” he added quickly, seeing my face.

Well, she’s neither of those things, so poke away, I grumbled to him privately.

“I think,” Dante said carefully, “that we get through these next few hours and debate Valeria’s motives once we have Rocco back.” His fingers brushed my bare shoulder. “The Valeria I used to know would have done anything for her father. To be honest, I’m more worried about Rocco’s motives once we get him back to the island.”

“Gabriel did cut off his hand,” I pointed out. “I’d say his motives will be pretty fucking suspect.”

“You what?” Luca leaned forward. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“He fucking nearly got your sister killed. I should have taken his head and been done with it,” Gabriel muttered. “Then we wouldn’t be in this fucking boat, dressed like… this.” He plucked at his multicolored designer shirt.

The Castello district was bustling tonight, though it didn’t have the heavy foot traffic of San Marco or the cultivated shopping of Dorsoduro.

“Valeria gave me a code word,” I announced to the boat. “For Rocco. When she was apologizing to me over that stupid ball. Stella marina. It means starfish.” Dante stared at me, and I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I know. But she did apologize for groping you in public, so there’s that.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Dante’s mouth quirked. “I’m just… impressed, is all. That she’s still standing.”

His hand found mine in the dark, his fingers threading between mine, calluses hard, a testament to everything he’d been through before he lifted my hand to his lips. Pressed a kiss to my knuckles without ever looking away. What could have been an act for anyone watching became a delicious fire burning low in my belly, set off by the twin flames burning in his eyes and the wicked smile on his lips.