Page 56 of Blood & Bedlam

“She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s here,” he assures. I exhale on a choked sob. Vladimir’s hands bracket my face, dragging my gaze up to him and, for a moment, he’s all I see.

“I heard you,” I whisper. He cocks his head to the side. “When I was … wherever I was. I heard you fighting for me. I heard you threaten them if they took me.” His lips tip up in the ghost of a smirk. I trace my fingers over his jaw, his lips, mapping out the lines of his face with touch.

“You came back to me.” His voice cracks, and it’s so vulnerable, so real.

“I keep doing that, it seems.” I try to tease, but there’s a truth to those words that bolsters my strength. “I’ll always come back to you.” His head tilts down, his lips slanting against mine gently, but I don’t have any restraint. Vlad’s scent invades my nose, and I breathe him in deeper. He feels like home, and as my fingers dig into his muscles, I make a promise to never leave him again.

The urgency of our kiss ebbs away, turns more exploratory, more indulgent. The ache in my muscles burns a little less with every pass of his hands over them, and I practically melt against his chest, let him envelop me into the safety of his arms. I pull back only slightly to see an amused expression on his face.

“What?”

“You have visitors who are chomping at the bit to see you. I’m afraid if we keep them waiting too much longer, they’ll break the door down.” He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose.

“They’re … waiting to see me?” I ask, startled.

He gives me a curious look, studying my face, his gaze shifting from one eye to the other. “You’ve been sleeping for days, and they’ve been taking turns sitting in here with us. Fleur and Camille have only left long enough to attend Council meetings, but other than that—”

“Thirty seconds and we’re coming in!” I hear Claire huff, followed by three impatient knocks on the door. I startle, but Vladimir just hangs his head, shaking with silent laughter at their impatience.

“Are you up for seeing them?” he asks gently, and there’s no pressure, only concern. I nod my answer, and with a flick of his shadows, the lock pops, but the door practically flies off the hinges as all four of his daughters make their way inside.

My eyes find Cami immediately, and a profound sense of relief rocks through me. Fleur stands at the end of the bed, but Juliette climbs right up along with Claire. Cami’s eyes stay on me, so many unspoken things passing between us. Vlad scoots over, allowing me to disentangle from him, but he keeps a strong hand on my thigh.

Camille rocks on the balls of her feet for a second, and though she’s hundreds of years old, she looks so young. Casket girl, Alesso, called them. The tales of the daughters are taught to every high schooler in Louisiana, but the truth of the horrors are heavily sanitized. What she must have went through … What almost happened to her again. I swallow thickly, and slowly lift my arms to her, ignoring the strain in my still healing muscles. Her full lip wavers and then she’s crossing the room with stunning speed, scaling the bed and crashing her body against mine. I hold her tight, tucking her chin beneath mine, whispering against her hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She holds me tight enough to break bones, but I don’t care. Her warm tears fall against me, soaking through my shirt as I run my fingers through her nearly silver hair, which is down and disheveled. We’re surrounded, but for a moment, it’s just the two of us.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you, ever again,” I vow, my eyes blazing with the force of my conviction as I let my gaze touch each of her sisters. I can feel my power there, thrumming on a low charge, but it’s there, and it’s mine—I’ll use it to protect my family with my last breath.

When Cami finally moves away, the rest take turns getting their hugs in, except for Fleur who settles for a firm hand squeeze.

“What happened? With the Italians?” I ask.

Fleur smirks at Vlad. “What Italians? Papa killed them all,” she replies, but Vlad tips his head to the side and holds up a finger.

“Not all of them. Cami took out at least four,” he corrects, and there is pride in his eyes as he stares at her.

“Those fuckers. I hope they suffered,” I spit.

“Oh, they burned. Their last moments were agony,” Cami promises. I feel deep satisfaction at that.

“As for the rest of House of Clan Torini, we’re still working on it. We have a meeting in the coming weeks, at their request. From what information I’ve been able to gather, the delegation acted independently, or so they’re claiming. At this point, it’s hard to know until we’re face-to-face if they’re lying because it was unsuccessful, or if they really had no idea a coup was being conducted under their noses.” Fleur props her hip against the bedframe, her hands in her pockets.

“Alessandro …?” I hate that I ask. His name burns against my fucking tongue and nausea rolls in my gut, but I have to know.

“He’s dead,” Vladimir answers flatly.

“So, it w-worked?” I clarify.

Vlad’s face softens as he pulls me close, tucking me under his arm and then lifting my chin up to meet his eyes.

“You saved me. You saved Cami.” His eyes bore into mine, settling the storm raging within. There’s an extra wave of calm that washes over me.

“That’s not very fair.” I turn to Fleur, but she only lifts her hands in defense.

“You need to stay calm so your body can heal. Goddess’s orders.”