Page 166 of Devoted

A warning before he broke our solitude.

“Rom.” Nico shoved to his feet in one long surge of muscle, then clasped the male’s hand. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Emilia said you were out here.” His deep voice was strangely familiar, the cadence slow, in the way old vampires’ voices were measured, and I cocked my head, wondering just how old he was. “I have an hour before my absence is noticed.”

“I’ll keep this brief, then,” Nico said before running through the plan with his usual precision, laying everything out in clear steps, mentioning all possible pinch points, and finally, what we needed from him as far as Blackwood and Luca.

“Blackwood already has doubts,” he mused. “The council in Rome is seldom stable; there is always discord. Cesare is well aware that one of the council members has been angling to depose him for years.” A short pause. “I’ll build on that paranoia. Lucien can plant some evidence to back up my claims, but I will make sure he’s in Rome for three days. Four, if I can manage.”

“That should be long enough.” Nico’s mouth curved slightly. “Then the bastard can stay in there, for all I care.”

“I will have him out of Venice tonight.” Romulus dipped his head. “As far as the Basin goes, Cesare was furious when Giovanni lost the relic the first time. I’ll casually mention the reward and the rumors swirling. He’ll put more pressure on Giovanni, which will force him to move without his usual caution.”

I nodded. “Thank you. My uncle doesn’t operate well under pressure.”

He touched his fingers to his forehead and offered me a half-bow, reminding me of manners from a millennium ago. “I am always happy to help a friend of Niccolò’s.”

I hadn’t stopped looking at him since he’d arrived. The strong angle of his jaw, those exotically sloped cheekbones, and deep-set eyes. The precise, unhurried mannerisms, the way he moved—careful and deliberately smooth, superbly comfortable in his body.

I recognized that proud, irreverent stance. The careless, yet arrogant tilt to his head. The liquid grace that turned his powerful body into a weapon.

Because I had spent the past few months beside someone who moved exactly the same way.

Honestly, that damned smirk should have been a dead giveaway.

“There’s something else. My brother, Luca. Blackwood… marked him with his magic.” I swallowed down my fear. “Like the Summoners. I’m afraid he’s going to use my brother as a weapon, or leverage, or worse.”

“Emilia has explained Luca’s situation.” Romulus’s expression shifted. “Cesare’s magic… corrupts the body, and the blood, and eventually… the soul. I do not tell you this to hurt you,” he hurried to add, “only so you understand Luca’s position. Your brother—for the next few days—will be safer in Rome than here, and I will ensure he’s well protected.”

“Thank you, I appreciate your help.” And I believed Romulus would help Luca. He seemed like the kind of male who made a promise and kept it.

Then Romulus opened his arms, and Nico stepped into the embrace without any of the awkwardness that usually attended displays of affection between people who don’t know each other well.

This was natural, and seeing them next to each other…

A chill went through me, as if someone had just walked over my grave.

“You did well bringing your friends here.” Romulus’s expression softened when his eyes dipped to me. “But the real fight will not be easy. Blackwood… you already know the dangers he presents.”

The older vampire drew back and stared at Nico—deep and long, the way you looked at someone when you wondered if you’d ever see them again. “Don’t take any chances when you’re facing Giovanni. He’ll have some tricks up his sleeve. Finish him off like I taught you. Be decisive.”

“I never do anything foolish.” Nico grinned with that arrogant tip of his head.

Romulus shook his head with an exasperated expression that strongly suggested he had significant evidence to the contrary. “Take care of yourself.”

“Take care of Luca.” Nico’s jaw flexed as he ground his molars. “He’s family now. Whatever else happens—protect him. Like you protected me.”

Something like regret flickered across Romulus’s face, then he gripped Nico’s shoulder and squeezed. “Count on it,” he said, then turned and left, boots not making a sound on the gravel.

I watched him leave and didn’t say a thing. Not about how their faces had the same shape, they used the same gestures, the way they held themselves, that particular predatory stillness they both shared.

There could be a good explanation—obviously, Romulus had been present during Nico’s childhood, but there was something deeper, something I couldn’t explain with words. And the pride in Romulus’s face when he’d looked at Nico—that had been more than professional respect.

Later, I thought.

We’d have time for questions later.

Assuming we survived these next forty-eight hours.