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They both nod, but I can see Luigi is more suspicious. He has been a mouthy asshole so far, but he is also the one that Vincenzo hated the most. He has more to lose.

There’s an uptick in the tension around us. Each Don brought his consigliere and two soldiers. Luca has Aidan, Matteo, and Stefano, in addition to us being here to represent the Vecchissime. The other men shift on their toes behind their bosses, and it’s quite obvious that everyone is prepared; everyone is waiting to see which way Luca will swing on this. I’m among them, because he is still stubbornly refusing to let me in to his head.

“This could go very wrong,” Donatella whispers to me. “Or very right.”

I nod, waiting.

“Would you be willing to negotiate on the price?” Aidan says, breaking the silence. He is allowed to do that. The consigliere are highly respected, and he is not speaking out of turn. “Thirty percent is too high. It would cripple us at a time when our costs are up. Twenty, we could look at. I must urge you to be reasonable, gentlemen. Please. Discuss this with your advisors.”

The ancient Dons do exactly that, all three of them turning to their counterparts. A few frantic minutes seem to drag on forever, their voices low and muted. Vampire hearing is spectacular, and I wonder how they are maintaining their privacy—a spell, perhaps? Another mystery, like Donatella’s high heels, but one I don’t care that much about.

Luca stares at his fingernails as they talk, a study in indifference. The three older Dons finally finish their discussions.

“Thirty, no less,” announces Luigi firmly.

“Agreed,” adds Federico.

“I concur,” says Alfredo.

They look unbearably smug, and I’d dearly like to go and punch each one of them in the hooter. Then possibly stake them for good measure. Vincenzo might have been the worst of the bunch, but these fuckers aren’t exactly up for sainthood.

“That’s your final offer?” Luca asks. All three of them nod.

My amulet flares ice cold, a sudden silver light pulses eerily beneath my jacket. A buzz of static, Luca in my head at last. Get ready, he says simply.

For what?

Everything.

He stands up, rising tall and proud in the center of the clearing. The moonlight glints from his hair, and his eyes … his eyes are fully silver, shining discs of metallic sheen. It has a predictable enough effect on those who have never seen it before. Silver is one of the few things that scares vamps, and here is one of their own, glowing with it. What they are seeing should be impossible, and the shock spreads around the clearing. There are hisses and cries, and one of the consiglieres trips over his own feet in his haste to escape. It takes them all precious seconds to recover their wits, seconds that mean the difference between life and death.

By the time they have remembered themselves and are ready to fight, it is simply too late. Luca has signaled to Matteo and Stefano, who take out the Roma consigliere and soldiers in a brutally efficient fashion.

“Leave one alive,” Luca instructs, never taking his eyes from the shocked-looking Dons, now all on their feet.

Matteo drags the consigliere who fell by the scruff of his neck and throws him in Aidan’s direction. Then they move on to the Venezia contingent, and Donna and I spring into action as the Milano men finally overcome their shock enough to react, charging at Luca with their fangs out. They explode into dust as we stake them. All but one of them down in less than ninety seconds. Not even enough time for our amulets to tell us there was danger.

The three Cosca Dons are all standing, their backs to each other, glaring out defensively as their layers of protection fall like dominos. Still, they don’t look anywhere near worried enough for my liking.

“Ernesto,” cries Luigi. “Now!”

He pauses, stares at the woods. Apart from rustling in the undergrowth, nothing happens. He looks confused, angry, and finally, worried.

Luca stalks towards them, his power oozing from him, the night air shimmering silver as he prowls closer. “Your witch isn’t coming,” he says simply, all the respect he displayed earlier gone. “And neither are the soldiers you had hidden in the trees. They’re all dead. Or at the very least, dismembered. Did you really think you could come here and trick me? Take what is mine? Treat me like a bastard child?”

Alfredo glares at him, defiant still. These are Cosca Dons, and they will not break so easily. They will not show their fear. They will not lie down.

They are fools.

“What do you think is going to happen now, Luca?” Luigi asks, putting some bravado into his words. “How do you think this is going to end? There are three of us, and only one of you. You are alone, and we will fight together—we will end you, you freak, you upstart.”

Huh, I think. Rude, yet again.

Luca walks around them, cautiously. Because he is not a fool, and he knows that these monsters have survived for centuries. They have power and strength and the ruthless will to use it. They have overcome countless challenges, fought endless battles, and lived to tell the tale. Somehow, though, despite that strength, I don’t think this will end well for them.

“I am not alone,” Luca tells them, simply. “I have the Vecchissime Seers. I have my men. And I have my … friends.”

The rustling in the woods becomes more pronounced, and my nose twitches with the sudden overwhelming scent. Wolves.