As we stood our ground, my stomach dipped and adrenaline surged through my veins. The band of vampires moved first, advancing like a bloodthirsty phalanx.
I was just about to give the order to attack when a loud male voice shouted, “Basta!”
The vamps stilled.
A male in a sleek Italian suit pushed through the pack. His deep red hair was slicked back and his skin was as pale as alabaster, telling me this one was older than the rest. He spread his arms to indicate he held no weapons. “Buona notte, Signorina Kane. Si prega di perdonare I miei amici.”
“No parlo Italiano, asshole.” I kept the gun trained on his forehead.
He nodded. “Forgive my friends, Miss Kane. We mean you no harm.”
I snorted. “I’m not sure how you do things in Italy, but where I come from, we don’t flash fangs at people we want to be friends with.”
“I apologize for their… aggressive greeting. Now, you will come with us, yes?”
I laughed. “Not fucking likely.”
“Please don’t make this more difficult than is necessary.”
“You made it difficult when you showed up with the twelve angry apostles,” Adam observed in an acidic tone.
The vampire dipped his head to acknowledge our concern. “We were informed that you might have some… reservations about accompanying us.”
I cocked the gun. “Your source was correct.”
“Who sent you?” Erron said. The bolt of magic glowed ominously between his cupped palms.
“A mutual friend.”
“You’re gonna have to start being a little more specific if you don’t want this gun to start barking,” I warned.
Italian Suit’s eyebrows slammed down like he had trouble following my English. But he must have gotten the gist. “It is too dangerous to say her name on the streets during these troubled times. However, I can tell you that my mistress, Donna Chiara Rossi, is playing host to an esteemed vampire of your acquaintance.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Very esteemed.”
I tried to figure out who he could be referring to. All of the esteemed vampires I’d known were now dead—Lavinia, Tanith… Oh shit! “Wait, do you mean Per—”
The Italian cut off the name I was about to say with a tsking sound. “I believe we understand each other.”
“Hold on.” I held up a finger and dragged Adam away for a confab. Erron was close enough to hear us but kept his magic trained on the vamps. “I think we should go with them.”
His eyebrows brushed his hairline. “What? Two seconds ago you were ready to cause an international incident.”
I leaned in closer, my volume barely above a whisper. “Persephone sent them.”
His eyes widened as the implications hit him. Persephone had disappeared four nights earlier from the mage compound near Sleepy Hollow. As the last surviving Domina, she was now the sole leader of the vampire race. However, since she earned that title because the last leader, Tanith Severinus, exploded all over the unsigned peace treaty, she obviously had a few reservations about taking over.
“The plot thickens,” Adam said. “What’s our play?”
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
A crease formed between his brows. “Yes, but—”
I held up a hand. “No buts. Just follow my lead and do what I say.” When he didn’t continue to argue, I turned back to the Italian vampire contingent. “Okay, we’ll go with you. But the first sign of aggression and I’ll reduce the Roman vampire population by thirteen. Got it?”
“The mages are not invited. This is vampire business.”
I didn’t bother pointing out to him that I was half mage. Having grown up in the vampire community myself, I understood how insular the politics could be. Arguing in favor of Adam and Erron’s presence at the meeting was a waste of breath. Besides, I had a chore for the mages now, anyway.
“Fine, but I need to bring my cat with me.”
He eyed Giguhl, who fell back on his haunches to lick his undercarriage. Obviously dismissing the feline as a nonthreat, the vampire nodded. “That is agreeable to me.”
I turned to Erron and Adam. “Go on ahead to the statue and see what you can find. When you get back to the hotel, call Rhea and let her know we found her,” I said, referring to Persephone.
Adam opened his mouth to argue, but my dead-serious expression must have dissuaded him. “How long should I wait until I start worrying?”
I glanced at the Italian, who was tapping his black Gucci loafer on the damp cobblestones. “If there’s trouble, I’ll just introduce them to our horny green friend.” I nodded toward the cat. Between Giguhl and me, we’d be able to escape just about any trouble the vampires could conjure up.
“Got it.” With that, Adam planted a fast, hard kiss on my lips. In the next instant, before the warmth of his touch cooled, he and Erron flashed away.
Normally when someone flashes out through interspatial travel, there isn’t much to see. But Adam and Erron, gods bless them, made quite a show of smoke and sparks.
The fireworks seemed to unsettle the vampires. Good.
I turned back to my hosts and raised my hands. “Lead the way.”
Chapter 9
I almost changed my mind when I saw the mode of transport the Italian vamp, who’d introduced himself as Damiano, led us toward.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Damiano frowned. “Scusi?”
I pointed. “You don’t seriously expect me to ride on a Vespa?”
He pursed his lips. “But of course.”
All around us, the twelve vamp apostles were climbing atop their own scooters. Sans helmets, naturally. Because that would be ridiculous.
Thus far, Giguhl had remained silent, lest he give away his demonic identity. But once he got a load of our ride, he climbed up my shoulder to hiss in my ear, “Douchemobiles?”
I shrugged and covered the cat’s commentary by giving him a pet between the ears. But he was totally right. The flames on the sides of the bikes did seem a tad overkill.
“Please,” Damiano said. He climbed on the Vespa and indicated I should get on behind him.
Back in Los Angeles, I’d been the proud owner of a cherry-condition Ducati. After experiencing the thrill of one hundred and eighty horses galloping between my thighs, the mere idea of riding on this child’s toy nicked at my ego. I probably could have jogged alongside the entire way to Chiara’s and not get winded.
But under the weight of thirteen expectant stares and the promise of getting to the bottom of Persephone’s disappearance forced me to harness my pride.
Cradling Giguhl to my chest, I swung a leg over the low back of the scooter. I refused to wrap my arms around Damiano, however. He simply shrugged and fired up the engine. Unlike the dead sexy roar of my Ducati’s stampeding engine, this damned thing whirred to life like a cheap vibrator.
“How much horsepower does this thing have?”
Damiano pursed his lips, thinking it over. “She has eleven horses.” He patted the buzzing engine proudly.
My mouth fell open, but before I could laugh or make a snarky comment, he took off. The acceleration barely jostled me. Giguhl looked up at me from my chest and rolled his eyes. No doubt we’d laugh about this later. In the meantime, I thanked the gods I didn’t know anyone in Rome who might witness the indignity of me clutching a hairless cat on the back of a fucking Vespa.
As we wound our way through Rome’s streets, Damiano chatted like we were on a Sunday drive. “So how are you enjoying your time in Roma thus far?”
I frowned at his back. “It’s fine.”
“Excellent. You should see the sites.” He waved his hands around like steering was optional. “Experience the romance of the Eternal City.” He kissed his fingertips.
“Yeah, I’ll be sure to do that,” I said, and didn’t bother covering the eye roll since he couldn’t see me anyway.
Apparently, this guy was completely unaware of the chaos facing all the dark races. Even though the drama was centered stateside, the assassination of the Despina was sure to have wide-ranging effects for all the vampire covens in the world.
As we drove, the other vampires would occasionally close in the ranks like a motorcade, but the narrow streets and insane traffic made anything other than single file impossible for most of the trip.
“Will you be in town long?”
I sighed and shot the guy a level glare. “How much farther?”
He stiffened. Whether this reaction was due to my rudeness or a translation issue, I didn’t care. I just wanted to get there already and figure out what the hell Persephone was doing in Italy. “It is just there.” He pointed to a building across the street and down a bit. The building he indicated was nothing short of a villa.
I’d expected the leader of Rome’s vampires to have impressive security, but no dice. Not one gate, video camera, or guard with a machine gun. Chiara Rossi was either incredibly cocky or incredibly stupid. Possibly both.
Our lame biker gang turned left into an alley next to the building and pulled around back to a driveway of sorts. Above us, the building’s rear rose up, all leaded windows and carved columns and huge balconies. Just beyond the driveway, a garden lay dormant in February’s chill, but I imagined in the spring it would be like a little Eden in the city.
I jumped off the scooter before Damiano pulled to a complete stop. He and the other vamps got off their bikes more slowly. I stood there, waiting for them to lead me wherever I was supposed to go, but they all just stood there. I raised my brows. “Well?”
“The Donna is waiting for you through that gate in the courtyard.”
“You’re not coming in?”
Damiano shook his head. “No. It’s time for us to hunt.”
I nodded. Back in the day, I’d spent most of my nights hunting, too. Part of me longed to go with them. See what kind of sport the citizens of Rome offered. But then I reminded myself that I didn’t have the luxury of wasting my predatory instincts on innocent humans. I had to save them up to hunt more cunning prey—Cain.