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He mutters under his breath and limps out of the room. Right. Well, I’m sure he has something important to do. Minnie is staring at me, chewing on her lip, lost in thought. I’m hoping she’s using her witch vision to figure out why I’ve turned into an unwilling pyromaniac, but all she says is, “I like your shirt. Is it new?”
“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll probably just accidentally set it on fire sometime soon though.”
She gets my point and grins. “So impatient for a woman in her second century, Rosa. Do you think Bruno Lombardi would talk to me?”
I frown in confusion, and Luca gives her a look. “Why?” he asks for both of us.
“Because everything I’ve learned so far suggests to me that he might know more than any living soul about what’s going on here. He’s a historian, a record keeper. He has archives.” She mutters the last word with reverence.
“He’s also a shut-in,” Donna tells her. “All the Lombardis are. After Anna’s death, they fell apart. Retreated to their island in the Italian lakes. They still attend the annual Vecchissime council meetings, but that’s it. No other interaction.”
“This I already know,” Minnie responds. “But will he talk to me, do you think? If we ask very nicely and also tell him about Tomasso’s current games? I’d have thought maybe he’d be interested in avenging his daughter’s death, and Rosa and Luca seem to be part of all this. But hey, what do I know? I’m just little old me …”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t know. All we can do is ask, okay?”
Pietro bustles back into the room, looking flustered, his sandy brown hair in disarray, and muttering beneath his breath. He messes around with a phone and the laptop, various images flickering across the big screen. Luca growls, and we can all feel his impatience. He hates Pietro, and he does not have time to waste. I look over at him, meet his eyes. Open our mental link. “Chill,” I tell him. “Losing your temper won’t help. Plus, you look super fine right now. Like, the hottest vampire Don on the face of the planet.”
He smirks very slightly, one corner of his mouth twitching up almost against his will. “I know what you’re doing. Trying to distract me from how much I want to kill your brother.”
“Is it working?” I run my hands over my sides, spreading my legs very slightly. Nothing that would look out of the ordinary to anybody else in the room, but enough to make his nostrils flare.
“Of course it fucking is. Now stop, Rosa, I need a clear head right now.”
And just like that he cuts me out, closes the line. Hangs up on me. He glares at me across the room and shuffles uncomfortably on the couch. Grabs a cushion and holds it over his lap. I wink at him. Job done.
“So. It’s not only vamps,” Pietro eventually announces. “There are different versions of Serena for different interests. Shifters, wolves, one of the little creatures like the goblins and the fae. Even for witches.”
Minnie lets out a gasp, looks horrified. Witches are actually the most powerful of all the supernaturals, but they rarely use that power. The last time they stepped in was during the 1600s when the Bargain was signed. They designed it, supervised it, enchanted the documents that were signed in blood. At least that’s how the story goes; nobody really knows. They stepped in because they had to, because the balance of vampires and humans was being so severely undermined that it was threatening the whole world. Witches are all about the balance. Well, most of them are.
“No!” she says, her voice brittle. “Witches wouldn’t … they wouldn’t take part in something like this.”
“Yeah, they would, Min,” Matteo says, speaking out for the first time. “I know you don’t like to see it, and I know it’s not many, but witches can be dicks too. Remember that one Vincenzo used against us?”
I do. I remember the searing pain he shot directly into my skull, the way he used his power to incapacitate me. He was ended, but Matteo is right; it doesn’t mean he was the only witch asshole out there.
“If it’s any consolation, hardly anybody is using the witchy part of the app,” Pietro says, shrugging. “But some are. It’s hugely popular right across the whole of supernatural society. Shit, now I think about it, maybe there’s even a human version, because they can be just as fucked up …”
Jesus. This could get out of hand real quick. If there’s one thing stupid people love, it’s competing to see who’s the stupidest. Tomasso has basically set up a scenario where the lowest common denominator of all these different communities gets the chance to kill for fun, for pleasure. For points. He’s given structure to their perversions.
The whole thing feels huge, overwhelming. I am filled with hatred for my grandfather, for the things he’s done, the things he’s still doing. He was responsible for the death of my parents, both my sisters. For my abusive childhood. The death of a Seer, the attack on Paola. For the chaos and carnage that is always lurking beneath the surface of the world, waiting for somebody like him to give it a way out. I want to believe this is just a silly game, a silly app, but it’s more than that. It’s social contagion at its very worst, telling the monsters that they’re right, that it’s okay to think the things they think, do the things they do. It validates every nasty urge they’ve ever had, makes them see humans as nothing but prey. It’s completely fucked up, and the more I think about it, the more I start to see how big this is.
“He’s filling the void,” I say. “The Grand Ball Sack. He is crazy, yes. He’s insane. But he’s also clever, isn’t he? His first plan might have failed, but he’s adapted. He probably already had backups in place, plans A through Z ready to go. And now? Now, things are fragile. The Coscas are on edge because of what happened. Vincenzo was the oldest vampire alive, and now he’s gone. The new guy, much as I love him, is still new. The other Dons aren’t sure they can trust you, Luca, and they’re also not sure how strong you are. You said yourself you’re being tested.”
He nods. “On a daily basis. This is true. Things are in a state of flux.”
Aidan Flynn adds, “They’re like sharks, sensing blood in the water. Wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already started to form alliances, are looking into trying to take us over.”
I’m under no illusions that Luca and his crew are some softhearted vampires, who just want to bring peace and love to the world. They are ruthless killers running a vast criminal empire that makes the human Mafia look like a book club. But with Luca as Don, they at least have a chance of being run in a way that is not needlessly cruel, or corrupt, or based purely on violence. I don’t know huge amounts about the other Coscas and clans, but I do know this—if they make a move on Firenze, there will be bloodshed. Vast amounts of bloodshed, and not just vamp. The whole world would be caught in the crossfires of a vampire war.
“We’re also weak,” Donna says. “The Vecchissime. We should have four Seers, and we only have two. Admittedly, we’re pretty great, Rosa, but still, it’s not enough. It’s not just us either. As we discussed, the Lombardis are basically out of the fight. Paola’s whole family are focused on her recovery. Mine are willing to do whatever it takes to keep the balance in place, but yours … well. Yours is a whole different ball game.”
The Vecchissime have existed for as long as vampires, if not longer. They are the checks and balances, the buffer zone between humans and supernaturals. The bridge that both binds them and divides them. Makers, Healers, Seers—there should be more of us, and we should be stronger. We should be united in the way we always were. Until my grandfather decided he wanted to run the world, and that he’d begin by killing off his own kind.
“It’s a perfect shitstorm,” I reply, nodding grimly. The Coscas are distracted. The Vecchissime are in crisis. The human world is, as ever, in turmoil. He wants it all and sees this as the perfect time to take it. He doesn’t care what it costs. He doesn’t give one single shit about the innocents being killed, about my brother, about me.
My blood starts to boil at what he’s done, what he’s still doing. He has taken so much from me, and I will not allow him to take more. He wants to play a game? He wants to have some fun? I’m up for it. I’ll show him how hard I can play. I’ll show him that he’s nothing. That he’s weak. That’s he’s no more important than the app’s little animated mice. I’ll kill him. I’ll wipe him from the face of the earth; I’ll make him wish he’d never been born …
Luca is in front of me, the air around him shimmering with heat. “Carissima,” he says gently. “You must calm yourself.”
