Page 68 of Devoted

And then it was me, hanging onto Gabriel for dear life, me, who could barely breathe. Me, who could barely swallow down the panic as I stepped inside the room where I’d very nearly died last night.

In a dream, but… still.

Emilia lounged in the center of the temple in an ancient throne carved from black stone. Given the gouges in the floor, she’d dragged it out here herself. Right in the center of that cursed circle, the runes dark and inert.

Still, I gave that whole fucking thing a wide berth.

So did Nico, his fingers reaching up to brush the nape of his neck, as if he could still feel the bite of his father’s blade.

Vincenzo and Paolo were trapped inside cages forged of magic, fragile bars of white power glittering with flashes of electrical pulses. Powerful enough that both beaten, battered males crouched in the very center of their tiny, confined space, careful not to touch them.

Emilia toyed with her necklace, one leg thrown over the arm, her other foot on the floor, the picture of lazy decadence. The white dress was shredded on one side and covered in soot. Blood splattered her throat and face. Dark hair spilled loosely over her shoulder. Longer than I expected since I’d always seen it arranged in one of her elaborate arrangements, decorated with jewels… or bones.

Now, she looked like exactly what she was.

A feral, vicious creature sated from a successful hunt.

“Wonderful. Everyone is here.” She made no move to rise, kicking her bare foot loosely back and forth, eyes glittering with the sort of intensity that would normally make me sweat, but only had me feeling ever so slightly sorry for her sons, who looked like they’d barely survived.

“I suppose thanks are in order. I’d been searching for a way out for so very long, I’d nearly given up. Imagine my surprise when you two appeared out of nowhere.”

Those glittering eyes glanced off me and settled onto Nico, her smile dimming ever so slightly before she sucked in a quick breath.

“I expect at least one of my favors to be forgiven,” I said tartly. “Or two, if you’re feeling especially generous.”

Normally, I wouldn’t push my luck, but one never knew when a chance like this would come along again, and I wouldn’t be my father’s daughter if I didn’t try to leverage this once-in-a-lifetime situation to my advantage.

“Two it is,” she agreed easily.

Damn.

I kicked myself for not asking for three.

“As you can see, Paolo and Vincenzo are learning the price of their insolence. And I do have a confession to make.” Her fangs gleamed. “They aren’t really my sons. Not by blood, at least.”

“Are you serious?” I gaped at her. “Do you mean I was nice to them all these years, and I didn’t need to be? They’re sniveling little shits, Emilia.”

Seriously. I’d practically bitten off my own tongue to not publicly insult those two stronzos, and now I find out… my restraint was all for nothing.

“Yes, they are, aren’t they?” Her eyes sparkled. “Every Pentarch needs at least two heirs, and they were mine. Chosen from the orphanage, given every luxury they desired; all they had to do was never betray me.”

“It looks like that was too big an ask.” I looked at the two of them in their golden cages. “What will happen to them?”

“They’ll be put somewhere they can’t be used as pawns.” She tipped her head, looking positively feral. “But enough about me. Why don’t you fill me in on what I’ve missed in my absence?” She glared at Vincenzo and Paolo. “They haven’t been especially forthcoming.”

“I… uhm…” I hesitated. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable talking about this in front of them. We can’t risk anything critical getting back to my uncle or Blackwood.”

She waved a hand in the air, her normally perfect nails in dire need of a manicure. “The cages are soundproofed. They can’t hear a thing. And I want them to see you. To know they chose the wrong side.”

Well, given they were locked in cages like a couple of pigeons, I expected they’d figured out their mistake by now.

She waited, slowly sliding her pendant back and forth on the chain around her neck. When she caught me looking, she stopped, tucked it back underneath the bodice of her torn white gown.

I eyed those runes like they might bite me, the circle like a trap that might snap closed, as it had last night. Even now, in this realm, I swore I smelled Nico’s blood and the poisonous reek of Blackwood’s magic, something pungent and charred and oily, even though that wasn’t possible.

No… it shouldn’t be possible, but I had the feeling that much like my uncle, I’d be a fool to underestimate Blackwood.

Gabriel explained everything succinctly, including the incriminating letters we discovered at Rocco’s, his treachery in involving Lord Blackwood, my uncle’s mysterious absence, and the council meeting where Gabriel was imprisoned and Giovanni crowned as Don. Our desperate visit here, only to discover she’d been put into stasis.