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“I don’t want a single fuck from this place,” Ciro spits. “Worst Broadway show I’ve ever seen!”

“Gloria and Isabella are waiting for us near the old road!” Adriano announces, shoving into the Ero, and I stare back at the oncoming hoard closing the distance with alarming speed. We won’t make it before they start tearing into our backs, nipping at our heels all the way to the rendezvous.

The train of survivors dwindles, most of them already climbing up through the ravine.

“Ero! Circe! Come on!” Aless yells, taking a few steps toward us.

“No can do, brother.” Ero glances back.

“The fuck you can’t, get your ass up here!” Alessandro bellows.

“Is that an order?”

“Does it need to be?!”

“Probably make it worse if it was. Don’t know that I ever want to obey another order as long as I live.”

I stifle a giggle, readying my weapons. “Agreed.”

“Ero…” Aless growls, shaking his head. “Take one last request then, from your brother, once upon a time, your don…”

“Shoot.”

“Show them how Diamantes never break.” They share a last look, and he’s gone.

We stand there and wait, staring at the press of bodies stomping right at us. Our eyes meet, a silent agreement.

“Ready to clean up your mess?” I snicker.

“Excuse me?” Ero smirks, tilting his head.

“I mean, this is kind of all your fault.” I wave at the army ahead of us.

“Uh, I wasn’t patient zero for Dr. Anankenstein.” The first wave reaches us, mowed down in a hail of bullets. We reload, kicking and bashing as we hold them at bay.

“Wow. Low blow. And a fuckingterriblepun.” I lash out, spraying the two of us with blood. Our battle cries intertwine like ancient gods of war.

“God, you’re an insufferable twat.”

“You’re an intolerable fuckwit.”

“I fucking love you.”

“I know you do…”

EPILOGUE 1: ANANKE

“Tea. Milk and sugar,” I state very politely. More than any lowly waitress deserves.

Preposterous. There’s not a single drop of drinkable leaves in this entire bloody city except at this…acceptable establishment.

Constant movement does not suit my tastes, but it is a necessary evil for the time being. After the debacle in Algeria, some unfortunate truths made their way out about me. Three months of this utter catastrophe and I am all but spent.

No more Interpol or Special Agent Morrigan.

Daciana Dalca of the ’Ndrangheta no longer exists, thanks to the Italian mob scene pronouncing her as persona non grata.

The list goes on. Not to mention that every one of my previous allies excluded from the proceedings at the ruins outside Khemissa somehow learned of my intentions and the…unsavory disposal of my guests from that affair.