Page 23 of Cursebound
I’ve never liked him, and we’ve always clashed, but if you’d asked me this time a week ago, I would have at least said that I trust him. That he’s family and has our best interests at heart. Now, some instinct tells me to tread cautiously. To think long and hard before I involve him in this.
Maybe I need to dump my pride and ask one of the other Vecchissime elders. The Lombardis were broken after the loss of Anna and are rarely seen in public, but from what I remember of the few times I met him, her father, Bruno, likes his books and is well-versed in supernatural history. I could give him a call tomorrow, throw my situation at him as a hypothetical. It’s also possible that Donatella could have some ideas. She picks up a lot if useful information as the gossip queen.
I climb out of bed, then sit on the edge and sip water. There’s no way I’m getting back to sleep now. Mentally, I’m too awake, too frustrated by my lack of knowledge. Too worried about how an Old World vamp I barely know managed to invade not only my mind, but my body as well.
I won’t be getting any rest until I have answers—answers he said he had. He promised to tell me what he knew, and for some reason I believe him. That vision wasn’t only a booty call. It was his way of letting me know where he is and how to reach him.
I glance over at the photo of me and Serena that I keep beside my bed. Photos weren’t common back then, and this one is singed at the corners. It’s a miracle it survived the fire, really. Not much else did. Not her, not our parents, and not our sister, Angela.
I run my fingers over the glass, gazing at her smiling face. At my equally happy expression. It was a lifetime ago, and I still miss her. Still ache for her.
“What shall I do, sweet sister? Am I about to make a deal with the devil?”
She carries on smiling serenely, and I blink back tears. She’d probably tell me I’m being reckless, careless with my own life. That the reason I’ve been such a dedicated Seer for so long isn’t because I’m selfless and dutiful—it’s because I have a death wish. Or maybe she’d say, “Go get yourself some of that tasty vampire ass, babe!” I will never know.
I take a quick shower, washing away the evidence of whatever the fuck happened between me and Luca. Without conscious thought, I end up wearing my sluttiest black bra and panty set. I should be sharpening my stakes, figuring out how to defeat him, calling for the cavalry. Instead, I am rooting around in my underwear drawer and pulling my favorite dress off the rack.
I pack the stakes in my jacket anyway, because I don’t leave home without them, and tie my damp hair into a ponytail. My hands linger on my neck, my body shuddering at the memory of his lips on my skin. Yikes, I am a mess.
I close down that train of thought and get into the elevator. As I am whooshed down multiple levels, I wonder if he is still in my mind somewhere. Whether I can go to him the same way he came to me. If I’ve got this whole thing right, or if I’m going to knock on that hotel room door and find some confused honeymooning couple from Nowheresville, Alabama, blinking out at me.
“Hey,” I say—out loud for extra weirdo points. “Luca? Are you there?”
Nothing. I emerge into the lobby of my apartment building and nod at the doorman. Jed’s used to me coming and going at all hours and simply gives me a jaunty salute as I pass him by. Standing outside in the street, I close my eyes and try again, this time silently.Umm… I’m on my way. Please tell me I haven’t lost my mind.
I feel a strange tingle on the skin of my forehead and a rush of pressure behind my eyes. White noise fills my ears and zigzag lines form at the edges of my vision—like a pain-free migraine.
You haven’t lost your mind, bella, he says, his voice low, intense—almost breathless.“And yes, I am here. I will always be here, whether you like it or not.”
Well, I think, not replying. That wasn’t at all creepy. Okay, then. Looks like I’m doing this thing.
The Grand is a short walk away, and I need those precious minutes to prepare myself. To set some ground rules. To calm the hell down. There will not be a repeat performance, I vow—this will be a strictly no-sex kind of deal. I am going there for answers, not orgasms.
I take a deep breath and cross the road. As I reach the opposite sidewalk, a black van screeches toward me and slams into the curb. My amulet blares to life, scorching my chest. The back doors fly open, and two men dressed in black military gear tumble out. How the hell did a whole damn van manage to sneak up on me?
Probably, I decide as the two men sprint toward me, I was distracted by thoughts of orgasms and Luca da Firenze. Is he responsible for this? Did he send them? I barely know the guy and have no reason to trust him. Is it a coincidence that a kidnap van shows up immediately after I told him I was on my way?
No, I decide, that makes no sense. I whip out a stake—they work just as well on humans. It makes no sense because if he wanted to abduct me, he’d wait until I got to his hotel. Luca doesn’t need hired goons—he is more than strong enough to do his own dirty work.
I drop into a fighting stance as the two men circle me, cautious now, weighing me up. There are only two of them, and they will underestimate me. I’ll be fine.
One of the men makes a grab for my shoulders, and I kick him so hard in the stomach he flies backward and smashes into a trashcan. The other waves a gun at me, and says, “Get in the van, bitch!”
“That’s not very polite,” I reply, not at all fazed by the gun. If he were going to shoot me, he’d shoot me, not waste time on conversation. “I hate bad manners.” I throw my stake at him, a movement I’ve practiced for years, and he grunts as the pointy end lodges itself in the meat of his thigh.
He teeters to one side but doesn’t go down, and I ready myself for round two. I have no idea who these assholes are, but they picked the wrong night for an abduction attempt. I’m in a bad mood now, and I have places to be.
The first guy is climbing off the trashcan and the second hobbles toward me, but I’m not worried. I’m confident I can take them. Until there’s a sharp jab against the side of my neck followed by a rush of weakness. My hand goes to my neck, and in my peripheral vision I see a hooded figure holding a syringe.
I don’t know what’s in the injection or how long I have before I lose control. I can’t speak, and I’m already staggering like a drunk on New Year’s, so I use the seconds of clarity I have left to scream his name in my mind. To look directly at my apartment building, at the street sign, the van. To register the license plate and cast my eyes at the men who are now grabbing me, pushing me toward the back of the vehicle. I groan and slam my hand on the flat surface of the open door. A sharp sting, glass against my palm, and I know I have done all that I can.
They pick me up, throw me roughly into the van, and I land with a thud, blinking my eyes over and over again in an attempt to stay conscious until we start moving.
South, I announce.We’re driving south toward the lake. Come find me, Luca. Come find me—I need you.
CHAPTER 11
LUCA