Page 110 of A Dangerous Bargain

Piero de’ Medici erupts from his throne-like chair, stomping over to where his son is pinned against the wall with a scolding finger and a snarl. “You said you took care of them!”

Lorenzo winces, then gasps, finally able to breathe again. “I carried the boy’s body to the chapel myself. The demons were attacking. I thought it would be enough—”

Piero scoffs and twists his hand. Lorenzo jolts up on his toes, both hands ringed around his neck. He gasps, the sound cut off with a sputter. As if a noose has slipped around his neck and all it takes is a single tug to strangle him.

“I told you to kill them both when the demons attacked. Does this look like enough to you?” Piero demands. Compared to his bedraggled son, the Medici patriarch looks well. His fine clothes are spotless, his hands steady. The only sign he bears of the siege assailing his city is a single scabbed-over cut under his eye. Piero makes another motion, and the toes of his son’s boots scrape against the floor. He slowly rotates Lorenzo to face Leonardo and me. “Do they look dead to you?” Piero unfurls his hands, and Lorenzo stumbles to his knees.

“I’ll do better next time,” he pants. “I swear it.”

I stare at Piero, hands pressed to my wound. Warm rivulets trickle through my fingers.

He still has his devil’s magic.

But the portrait behind me is slashed. I destroyed it. His magic should be gone.

“You’re not Piero de’ Medici anymore, are you?” I say.

The old man smirks, a gleam shining predator-slick behind his pupils. “I don’t need a portal. Each Medici was foolish enough to let my magic inside them deeper and deeper for the promise of more power. I possess this body entirely now.” He examines his hands, the lines and wrinkles on them, grimacing. There’s a wash of crimson over the skin, and they vanish. Red lingers in his eyes now, no longer hidden but two sweltering coals.

They burn right through me, a brand on my soul, black and spreading and more terrible than any nightmare.

We were too late.

The devil’s here already.

And he’s going to destroy everything and everyone I care for.

Piero snaps his fingers. One after another, demons land on the sills outside each window. They press their monstrous faces to the glass, all gnashing teeth and too many eyes.

An invisible force drags Leonardo to the closest one. He twists sideways, his frantic breaths fogging the windowpane. The demon mirrors the position, cheek to cheek with him if not for the barrier. Long strings of drool drip from its double-hinged jaws to puddle on the frame outside. The window starts to sizzle. A sharp, acrid scent fills the air.

“How would you like to see him die?” Piero taps his chin. “I’m partial to dismemberment myself, but I’d hate to ruin the room.”

My vision pulses with heat, each beat in time with the agonizing throb in my side.

I’ve never wanted to kill someone before.

I don’t like the feeling—a tangle of rage and desperation too big for my body. It feels choking, overwhelming. All the worst parts of me eclipsing everything else.

The devil smirks, his face a decade younger than before. The cut on his face starts weeping a dark, deep gold. “Ah, there’s your darkness. Not so courageous without your demon friend, are you?”

I scoff, and even though ’tis hell, even though every movement screams with pain, I stagger upright and turn to the only person who can possibly still make a difference.

Lorenzo’s face goes pale. He runs, plucking his dagger from the floor, knuckles white on the grip—

I raise my hands. “Wait.”

I’m wounded, weaponless, out of ideas. I have nothing except the wild, furious rush of blood under my skin, a reminder of my second chance, my second life.

“You don’t have to be like him,” I say softly. “You can be someone else. Someone better.”

I haven’t forgotten how Lorenzo stood behind his father’s chair like a servant. Piero’s careless cruelty. It reminds me of my own father, how his voice boomed like God’s, listing out all my failures and shortcomings. How my brother always reassured me that he was wrong. How I didn’t always believe him. The worst things someone says about you are the words that linger, the ones that gnaw after midnight.

I don’t know if Lorenzo has ever had someone stand beside him in the darkness.

But I’ll try now. He should have a chance to change. I don’t know if he deserves it, but I didn’t believe I deserved one either.

Lorenzo squares his jaw and glances out to the window. The demons glare back, their red eyes smoldering through the mist.