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I wanted her mouth. I wanted to drive my hand into her hair and kiss her until neither of us could remember where we were, I wanted her fear turned into hunger, her fingers dragging me closer instead of holding me still.
I wanted one thing untouched by death.
She wanted it too. I saw it in the way her lips parted and the way her body softened against mine despite the violence surrounding us.
I lowered my head.
Her breath caught in anticipation.
A siren rose beyond the market, and reality returned with a bang.
I released her and stepped from the recess. Cold air rushed into the space between us. Adriana looked away as she closed her coat with unsteady fingers.
I checked both ends of the street.
“We need to move.”
I heard running footsteps.
Our second guard appeared at the far end of the street. Blood soaked one sleeve, but he remained upright and alert.
“The car is two streets south,” he informed me. “Four men are moving in from the market. More vehicles are approaching.”
“Can you shoot?”
“With either hand.”
“Good. Anyone follows us, put them down.”
His expression didn’t change.
I took Adriana’s hand. Her fingers locked around mine as we ran.
Behind us, Florence filled with sirens.
Ahead, every careful part of our plan collapsed. Lucia Bellini had been murdered because fear had silenced her once and truth had brought her back too late.
When we reached the waiting car, I opened the rear door and pushed Adriana inside. I followed, pulling her beneath me as the vehicle launched away from the kerb.
The first bullet struck the rear window. Glass fractured but held. Our guard returned fire through the open passenger window. Three shots.
A pursuing vehicle swerved and mounted the pavement.
Raze’s second car appeared behind it and rammed the Coccico vehicle broadside, driving it into the front of a closed shop.
Men emerged from both cars. Our men moved faster. They opened fire before the Coccico soldiers had cleared their doors.
The street flashed white with gunfire. I covered Adriana’s head with one arm and drew my pistol with the other.
“Stay down.”
“What about your men?”
“They know what to do.”
A motorbike came alongside us. The rider raised a weapon. I lowered the window and fired twice. The first round struck his hand. The second entered beneath his jaw. He fell backward from the bike, and the machine spun beneath the wheels of the car behind us.
I kept my body over Adriana’s until the gunfire disappeared behind us. Only then did I look down. Her face was pale. Her lips remained parted from the breaths she couldn’t slow. One hand gripped my shirt while the other was trapped between our bodies.
