Page 35 of A Madness of Crows

Something to make me feel more likeme.

Stefano nudges his foot against mine as he cracks the window open, letting a little of that breeze inside so it swirls around my face.

You’re okay.

He nudges me again.

Breathe.

Stubble covers his jaw, his shaved head growing out. The swirls that cover his hands and arms gleam in the light.

As the roads become more familiar, winding up to the entrance of the familiar home where the Cosa Nostra meets, Salvatore turns to me. “You know what I expect.”

Meek, blind obedience. A pretty doll for him to show off. He pushes his hand into his pocket, pulling something out. “It doesn’t hurt to make sure.”

Stefano stiffens, his eyes jerking to mine. “Is that necessary?”

Salvatore grips my wrist, pulling me closer to him. “Consider it a security measure. I want no incidents tonight.”

My stomach flips at the sight of the syringe pen in his hand. “What is that?”

My back hits the side of the car as he follows me, lifting the pen. “Nothing permanent. An hour or so and you’ll be back to normal.”

Back tonormal. My breathing speeds up. “Get that away from me.”

He barely grunts as I kick my legs up. I cast a desperate glance at Stefano as my fuckingridiculousballet shoes slide off Salvatore’s chest like water.

The pen slams against my upper arm, a sharp pinch straight into the muscle as he pins me against the wall. “There. So much fuss, Caterina. You might even enjoy yourself.”

I stare down at the small purple mark in growing horror. “Tell me what it was.”

“Ketamine.” Stefano’s voice is hoarse. “It’s ketamine.”

Ket.

“Also calledcatvalium.” Salvatore tucks the syringe away, his smile sly. “Like it was made for you.”

My eyes stay locked on that purple mark.

Even as my head begins to swim.

I’m not going to remember.

My hands start to shake.

I will not remember this meeting.

Will not remember seeingthem.

All these weeks of waiting, and—

And that darkness in my veins turns to sludge, blurring my vision. The ketamine drags me down into its grasp, until there isnothing.

Day 42 – Domenico

Matteo lounges back in his chair, spreading his arms wide as a taunting grin spreads across his face. “Well, isn’t this lovely.”

I jerk my head in the semblance of a nod when he glances at me slyly. The room around us is empty, waiting for the newest iteration of the Cosa Nostra to walk through the doors.