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Be careful, I whisper into his mind. They’re still dangerous.

An almost imperceptible nod of the head, acknowledging me. I know exactly how dangerous they are, Rosa, he replies. And I also know that I am even more dangerous.

I try to see him through objective eyes, rather than the eyes of a woman who loves him, a woman who fears for his life. Damn. He’s right. It’s not just his physical size, although that is imposing. It’s not just his eyes, which are breathtaking. It’s more than that; it’s the essence of him. He is made of power. It shines from him, fills the air around him, radiates in waves of unearthly authority. This is a man who could rule the world, never mind one Cosca.

I glance at my hands, see silver sparks floating from my fingertips. I am not under threat right now; I am not furious or a slave to my emotions. This is happening in response to him, I know. I don’t want to be afraid of it. I don’t want to fear what I am, what he is, and yet I still do. I shove my hands into my pockets, hoping I don’t incinerate myself.

His face is directly in front of Luigi’s now, and the ancient Don recoils. Finally, he sees what I see. Realizes that he is in mortal danger. “Tell me the truth, Luigi,” Luca commands.

“Okay, okay … yes. I remember them. The witch family back in the old country. The d’Argento witch was in charge of spelling the Bargain, but she didn’t want to do it … There was some hitch. Some stupid witch thing.”

Luca nods, raises his eyebrows. “And you, Federico? You remember what happened to them?”

“No. Why should I?” Federico replies, still staring at the wolves. He does not seem to understand yet where the real threat comes from. “Giulia and Vincenzo dealt with it. They had leverage of some kind. Found it at the d’Argento village.”

Again, Luca nods. How the hell is he staying so cool? I know there is a torrent of feeling inside this man. I know how much those memories affected him, how devastated he was at the losses, at the pain of seeing everything he knew and loved burned to the ground. Now, Federico talks about it so casually, as though it was just another day at the office? My own heart is racing, and I’m fighting the urge to stake him myself, so fuck knows how Luca is dealing with it.

He walks to the final Don. “Alfredo. Tell me what you know.”

Alfredo, the grandpa with a twinkle in his eye, still wearing his straw fedora. He looks at Luca and smiles. His head tilts to one side, his face alight with curiosity now.

“The village was destroyed,” he says, his voice surprisingly firm considering the fact that one of the wolves now has his muzzle in his crotch. “But the witch did as she was bid. The leverage … it was you? You appeared at their court the day the Bargain was sealed. Giulia’s new little plaything. None of us paid you any attention, did we? That … that was a mistake.”

He knows. He knows who Luca is, what Luca is, and he knows he is going to die here tonight. Far away from home, from those he might love and who might love him in return. I know nothing about him. He could be married, have children. Actually be a grandfather or at least an adoptive one, as vamps rarely reproduce. He could have a whole life that he will miss. What is he thinking right now, I wonder? After being alive for more than four centuries, does he still yearn for more time? Are there still questions left unanswered?

I will never find out. Luca smiles back at him. “It was. What do you think about my pedigree now?” he says, before he reaches out, takes Alfredo’s head between his hands, and wrenches it from his neck. There’s a sickening pop as the bone and muscles snap, and the straw hat finally falls. Luca throws the bloody head into the woods, and one of the wolves chases it, snarling and growling.

The other two Dons panic as Alfredo’s body falls to the ground. He is not yet dead. He will need to be burned or staked, or that head could still rejoin the body. The sound of howling from the trees tells me that perhaps that won’t happen in this case, but I will make sure. I will plunge my own stake into that man’s corrupt heart and finally end him.

Luigi makes a break for it, pushing Federico in the back, knocking him right into Luca. Luca grins, grabs hold of a screaming Federico, and plunges his fangs into his neck. He does not feed from him, which I’m oddly relieved about, but he tears his throat out in a bloody, pulpy mess, leaving Federico lying on the floor clutching at flesh that no longer exists. He will definitely need staking. Donna and I will be on cleanup.

Luigi is running, which is frankly a stupid thing to do when trapped in a wood with a bunch of apex predators.

The wolves howl as one, and I notice Sophia’s dreamy expression when the eerie sound tears through the night air. They give chase to Luigi, joined by Luca. I stay alert, ready to jump in if I need to, seeing Donna in exactly the same fight-ready stance as me.

We need not have worried. Luca leaps onto the fleeing Don’s back, brings him down with a growl as vicious as the wolves’. There’s a small scuffle, a blur of vampire, the wolves running around them snapping and snarling. A moment of pure terror as Luigi seems to briefly get the upper hand, his fangs grazing Luca’s neck. Blood shines dark in the moonlight, and I’m halfway there when Luca roars, flips him onto his back, pins him down with a powerful hand around his throat.

Blood from his wound drips down onto Luigi’s face and it sizzles, like drops of acid burning into his skin. Woah. New scary power alert.

I lay my hand on Luca’s shoulder, and he snarls as he looks up at me. I take a step back, hold up my hands. He’s in the grip of his bloodlust, and though I know he would never intentionally hurt me, it’s always wise to have a healthy respect for a six-foot-plus killing machine with muscles on his muscles.

His eyes flare when they see me and go back to normal. Or as normal as his ever are—rich, deep brown, almost black apart from the red ring that reveals his anger, his hunger, his frenzy. “Forgive me, cara mia.”

“Always,” I say simply, backing away and leaving him to it.

He slams Luigi’s head onto the ground, so hard he goes cross-eyed. He’s stopped fighting back now, and there’s a strange look on his face. Part defiance, part … relief? Maybe deep down, like many older vamps, he had his fill of this life many years ago. Now, he’s finally met his match and knows that end is in sight.

“How do you think this will work, Don Luca d’Argento?” Luigi asks, finally showing him the respect he deserves. “You will simply take us out and become what, the new king of the Coscas? You don’t think we have allies, supporters, those who will make it their life’s mission to avenge us?”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Luca replies, sitting up, the older Don trapped beneath him. “You have shown what you are tonight, my friend, just a weak old man whose time has passed. A relic of a bygone era, one that should have died centuries ago.”

“And what, you’re the brave new world?”

Luca gestures around him. “Yes. Look and learn, Luigi. I have the support of the wolves. The Vecchissime. The shifters.”

Right on cue, four owls glide down into the clearing, bathed in moonlight. Yep. Definitely not just owls.

“And as for the witches? Well, I am one.”