Page 157 of Devoted

Romulus. Or at least, I thought it was Romulus. And I wondered who this male was to elicit such undying trust from both sides.

“So…” She leaned back in her chair, sipping her wine. “What do you intend to do, now that you are free?”

I set my glass down. “We’re going to do what we should have done two days ago. What I should have done years ago, when I had the chance.”

She arched an eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, is that, piccola?”

Now that all our other options were exhausted, the ending to our story seemed so… inevitable.

“I’m killing my uncle. And when I’m finished with him, I’m going after Blackwood.” I steadily held her dark stare. “I restrained myself before because of old loyalties and because of Luca. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Your brother’s involvement was… unexpected.” She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, the crystal humming beneath her touch. “Both of us are equally to blame for his fate, I’m afraid. I did not foresee him being used as Blackwood’s pawn.”

She gazed past me, eyes going hazy, as if she was weighing all our fates in her hand and deciding which way she wanted the bones to fall.

“Giovanni has been a plague on this Dynasty for centuries,” she agreed, getting comfortable in her chair. “And while Blackwood is a vile excuse for a vampire… we cannot kill him.” She leveled a stern look at me. “And by we, I mean you, Emberline Dominico. Lord Blackwood cannot die.”

She flashed those teeth again in a vicious smile. “At least… not yet.”

And that’s when I knew for sure. Emilia could see the future. And I was a little more inclined to believe Blackwood’s fate would eventually come.

“For now, Cesare Blackwood is Rome’s problem. The more pressing issue is they possess the real Basin. And your brother, who, it turns out, is a very talented mind reader. Something no one thought to mention.” She waved her hand in the air. “But Luca is a problem for tomorrow. My spies report he is currently inside your family palazzo, so for the moment, he is safe.”

A burst of adrenaline shot through me, along with a crazy urge to race across the rooftops and check for myself.

“If we can’t kill Blackwood, let’s get him out of the city. Since he controls the Drax, he’s the bigger threat at the moment.” Gabriel’s tone was the one he used when he wasn’t about to entertain any arguments. “Send him back to Rome where he belongs. Once he’s gone, we focus on Giovanni.”

“If Blackwood took Luca to Rome,” Dante mused, “he’d be away from the fighting. Away from your uncle, who would use him as bait, or worse, as a shield.”

I shook my head. “No, my brother’s not going to Rome, especially not with fucking Blackwood. That male is a psychopath. There’s no way to watch over Luca in Rome, no way to monitor his safety.” I thought of that black rot creeping up the side of my brother’s face. “His health.”

“There is merit to the idea. Luca would be safer in Rome, with Blackwood, than here, with Giovanni, actively fighting a war.” Gabriel leaned forward. “He needs your brother, Emberline. He needs Luca’s ability to mind-read. Your brother would be far safer as Blackwood’s weapon than as your uncle’s pawn.”

I dug my fingers into my temples, rubbing. “Logically, I know you’re right. It’s just…”

I thought back to how Blackwood had tormented Nico, his own son, and the vile things he’d said, and my heart began to race.

“They’re both monsters. Luca’s not safe with either of them.”

“While you have valid concerns, piccola, the fact remains, your brother will be safer in Rome.” Emilia set down her glass. “Let me worry about keeping Luca safe. And getting Blackwood out of Venice. I believe I have the solution to both of those problems. I can even ensure he leaves voluntarily—believing the choice is entirely his own.”

She glanced toward the archway that led deeper into the temple and lowered her voice.

“There are plans in motion you are not yet aware of. Pieces that have been in play far longer than tonight.”

“What pieces?” Dante growled. “Emilia, if you’ve been holding out on us…”

“You really should learn to control that temper of yours,” she hissed. “One of these days, Dante Dominico, it will get you into trouble. But…” She took a breath. “Not tonight. Sleep first. You’ll be clearer in the morning and hopefully in a better,”—she glared at my husband—“mood.”

“Tell me one thing, Emilia.” I stopped her just before she went through the door, banking on the fact she had seen the future and, secondly, was willing to tell me the truth. “Will we win this fight?”

“I didn’t bring all of you this far,”—she looked down at us, her head held as high as any queen’s—“to lose to the likes of Giovanni DiRavello.”

She swept out of the room, and one of her warrior priests appeared in the doorway, waiting to show us to our chambers. Dante offered me his hand, palm up. I laced my fingers through his.

“You are going to get us in trouble,” I scolded. “You need to behave.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said, then added quietly, “Emilia’s holding something back, and we’re in too deep for surprises. If she’s working against us, we need to know before we walk into a trap.”