Because Giovanni had tried to kill my wifetwicenow, and the thought of her being anywhere near him made me twitchy. And I wasn’t the only one. The demon inside mewas restless, not even content with the mayhem we were unleashing.
And my fucking brother was a prisoner in his own prison, and damn if there wasn’t some kind of fucking twisted irony to that.
Between Luca and me, most of the guards were down, except for the three protecting the old mausoleum.
As it turned out, the DiRavello family island was well guarded, and the Basin was a critical piece in this cat-and-mouse game. But Emberline’s safety came first, and the thought of her facing her uncle by herself... There were too many things that could go wrong, and the bastard was always—fucking always—a step ahead of us.
Violence burned under my skin like a second pulse as I eyed those last three guards.
“Emberline can take care of herself,” Luca said, rising to his feet. “You’ll just piss her off if you keep acting all possessive and shit.”
For a second, I just stared.This little… was he giving me… marriage advice?
The demon stared down at him, too, wondering whether he had a death wish.
“Look.” Luca ran his hand through his head of hair. “You do you, but if you want my advice, you’ve got to give Emberline some space.”
I watched his mouth move, wondering if I could get away with gagging him and leaving him on the boat when we were done.
“You keep cramping her style, and you’re going to lose her.”
Not if we lock her up forever, the ifrit whispered.
“She’s my wife.” I exhaled hard. “I know what I’m doing. We’re… Iamgiving her space. We’re figuring it out.”
He just slanted me a look like he seriously doubted that.
“How are we on time?” he asked instead of giving me more shit, which probably saved his damned life.
When I’d agreed to partner up with Luca, he’d seemed like a nice, quiet kid. Had I known I’d be getting the third fucking degree, I would have left him behind.
The old mausoleum was half-swallowed by overgrowth, its stone façade cracked with age and neglect. It sat in the center of what had once been a memorial garden but was now something forgotten.
The guards had their backs to us, talking in low voices.
“I’ll take the two on the right, you take the one on the left,” I decided. Despite his propensity to run his mouth, the kid was a good fighter. Not as good as Emberline, but skilled enough, I trusted he could handle himself.
I moved first, legs pumping, closing the distance between us before they could react, driving my shoulder into the first soldier’s chest, slamming my knife into the second one’s on my way past.
Number one clawed at my neck, but my knife was already sweeping across his throat, blood spraying as I turned back to the second, climbing to his feet. He drove his fist straight into my jaw, the impact snapping my head back. I grabbed his collar, yanked him forward, brought my knee up hard into his ribs, then broke his neck.
He hit the ground and didn’t get back up.
Luca moved with me, but where I was brute force, he was control.
The guard on the left was fast, slashing out with his knife before Luca drove his blade into the male’s shoulder, then shifted, caught his wrist, and used his own momentum to flip him backward, slamming him flat onto the stone. Air exploded from his mouth, and Luca was already there,pinning him in place with a knee, blade plunging down into his throat, twisting.
Five seconds. Clean. Efficient. No wasted movement.
“Nicely done,” I said, turning to face the front of the mausoleum, two rotting doors that looked like they hadn’t been opened in centuries.
“Thanks. I’ll take that as high praise, coming from you,” Luca replied, inspecting the gash on his arm. “Don’t tell Emberline; she’ll freak out.”
I snorted. “She’d never let you out of her sight again.”
“Tell me about it. She thinks I’m incapable of fending for myself. Big sister syndrome, I guess.” His expression brightened. “You could put in a good word for me.”
“That I could, but it’s my policy not to get in between siblings.” Actually, it was my policy not to piss off Emberline because she’d carve off my balls. I approached the heavy doors, their surfaces carved with names that had ceased to be legible years ago. “Let’s get this done.”
