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He wasn’t about to risk Bella or anyone else’s life by heading out into the chaos running rampant outside their safe house. And the idea of letting Matera’s innocent population be slaughtered by blood-addicted predators was more than he could stand.
He met Scythe’s fathomless black stare and saw the same resolve in him.
“You got extra weapons somewhere in here?”
The male gave him a curt nod.
More screams rang out in other parts of the town. More death coming closer by the minute. If the Rogues weren’t stopped, it wouldn’t take long before their attack moved down into the ravine.
Savage turned to Bella. He pulled one of his pistols from his weapons belt and placed it in her hand. “You ever shoot one of these?”
“No.” She shook her head vigorously, but the worry he felt spiking through her blood was there for him. “Ettore, what are you—”
“Take it,” he ground out fiercely, giving her a quick demonstration on how to take off the safety. “You aim this at anyone who comes to the door that isn’t me or Scythe. And take this too.” He unclipped a sheathed dagger from his belt and handed it to her. “That blade is titanium. It’ll ash a Rogue in seconds flat.”
He hoped to hell she never got close enough to one of them to use either of the weapons, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Stay put, you hear me?” He grabbed her close, imploring her with his eyes and the hard, desperate pound of his heart. “I’ll be back for you as soon as I can.”
“Promise me.”
He dragged her against him and kissed her—a brief, but impassioned confirmation that he wasn’t about to lose her when they were so close to finally having a future together.
It wasn’t easy to release her.
But as the terrorized screams of Matera’s citizens continued to ring out, he knew he had little choice.
He turned to Scythe, now his unlikely ally. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter 12
The screams carrying down into the sassi from the city above only seemed to worsen in the few minutes after Ettore and Scythe had gone.
Those terror-filled shrieks—many of them agonized, final cries—left Bella shuddering and heartsick. Frightened to her marrow.
“We’re going to be all right,” she told Chiara and her frightened little boy, hoping her uncertainty didn’t show in her eyes. As much as she trusted that Ettore was a capable warrior—Scythe too—they were only two against what was easily three times as many Rogues.
If anything happened to Ettore…
“You love him, don’t you?” Chiara’s voice was gentle, sympathetic.
“I love him more than anything in this world. I’ve loved him since I was a girl, back at the vineyard.” She absently lifted her hand to the side of her neck, where she could still feel the claiming heat of Ettore’s bite. “We’re mated, Chiara. Our blood bond is only hours old.”
“Oh, Bella.” Chiara hugged her close. “You deserve this kind of happiness. You of all people deserve it.”
Did she?
Bella couldn’t help thinking that if not for her gift and Vito Massioni’s want of it, Chiara and Pietro would not have been pawns at his mercy all these years. If not for her, Massioni would be dead—finished by Ettore in his mission for the Order.
If not for trying to rescue her from Massioni’s villa, Ettore would already be back in Rome with his comrades, not swept into more violence and death.
High-pitched shrieks sounded again from somewhere outside.
