Page 36 of Devoted

And where was my uncle? Why hadn’t Giovanni been waiting for us in the council chambers, so very eager to torture the Basin’s location out of us? Instead, we’d found Cesare Blackwood, along with the sort of Eldritch horrors I thought only existed in human horror movies.

I closed my eyes again.

The images came anyway.

Spiders creeping down the well-appointed walls of La Sala like they’d been birthed from the shadows. Hundreds of them, hanging from the ceiling like mutated bats. The Ashbound, with their flaming bodies. Gloved soldiers standing in a line, casting streams of black magic. Gods. My entire body went weak. We were facing an army of monsters.

An army we were not prepared to fight.

I sat up, sheets tangled around my legs as my pulse kicked higher, heart racing with adrenaline.

“Bella?” Gabriel lifted his head, blue eyes still bleary from sleep. “Bad dream?”

“Something like that,” I murmured, climbing over my mountain of a husband, who grumbled about it being too damn bright, then rolled over and pressed a pillow against his head.

I padded to the bathroom and closed the door, leaning my back to it. Outside, the sea glittered beneath an equally blue, cloudless sky. Peaceful.

Meanwhile, the world was collapsing beneath our feet.

I dressed quickly and headed downstairs, passing knots of uniformed staff and Demente soldiers, speaking in hushed voices. No one smiled. All of them cast glares that told me I wasn’t especially welcome here, and I walked faster.

This was Rocco’s work.

The old vampire might be harmless as far as Valeria was concerned, but he was manipulative enough to undermine her authority.

To overthrow her, if he saw the chance.

Now that he’d returned, this island was not the safe haven we’d been promised, and we’d do well to watch our backs.

I reached Luca’s door, pausing to remind myself he was a grown-ass male and didn’t need his sister checking on him, and after a brief internal debate, I moved on.

The kitchen was empty, so I grabbed a piece of fruit and gulped down a cold cup of coffee, then headed outside, the heat of the day already building.

Summer was at its peak, and I navigated the sunbaked stone path that led down to the curving swath of beach. The Adriatic stretched endlessly before me, dazzlingly blue beneath the sun.

So blue, the water didn’t even look real, a delicate turquoise where the waves kissed the beach, turning darker in the depths, the rich color of indigo. I kept walking until the villa was out of sight, then settled on an old driftwood log, digging my toes into the sand.

And waited.

An hour later, the three of them prowled down the beach toward me. Gabriel leading the way, barefoot along the water’s edge, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his loose linen trousers, feet splashing up foam with every step.

Dante stayed well above the tide line—apparently his demon was averse to salt water—shirt straining beneath those ridiculously muscled arms and chest, powerful legs eating up the distance between us, cargo pants rolled above his ankles.

Nico followed ten paces behind, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, still stained with flecks of dried blood, like he hadn’t found the energy to change.

His expression was so desolate, my stomach knotted around itself, worry thick enough I could practically taste it. Even from this distance, something was off. The shadows swirling around his ankles were thicker.

Wrong.

Darkness spread across the sand like oil seeping through water, and I couldn’t even tell the others because I was the only one who could see his magic.

Why was I the only one, though?

How could Nico appear in my dreams, real enough to touch?

“There you are.” Gabriel’s grin danced with wry amusement when he stopped in front of me, the breeze tossing his hair around his face. “You’re getting sunburned.”

“I didn’t expect you slobs to laze around half the morning when we have work to do.”