Page 48 of Cursebound
I cover him with the sheets and go into Pietro’s room. He’s still asleep, as he has been for hours now, but it’s time for him to wake up. I shake him by the shoulders and have to smile as he gradually comes to consciousness. He was never a morning person. Mama had to go and do this exact thing every day, at least an hour before he needed to leave for school. She ruffled his hair and called him her little sleepyhead, and he pleaded for ten more minutes.
Everything has changed since then, of course. For starters, she’s dead.
“Rise and shine, baby bro! Luca tells me you’re doing well—even managed a few words?”
He croaks out a dry laugh, and I wonder what those words were. Given the way the two men feel about each other, they probably weren’t polite ones. He wipes the crusts of sleep from the corners of his eyes. “Huh,” he says. “I can move my hands now. That’s new.”
“That’s vamp blood for you. Plus, you know, your own. What about your legs? Do you think you can walk?”
He concentrates and grunts and eventually sighs. “No dice. I can’t even feel them. Which is bad, because I really need to take a piss.”
“You want me to help you to the bathroom or leave you with a bottle?” I really hope it’s the latter. I am so not up for seeing his dick again. Or ever.
“Bottle will do fine. What’s the plan?”
“Glad you asked. I’m about to sneak out and steal a car. I’m thinking soccer-mom style—big enough for you to lie down, but nothing that stands out. Then, when Luca wakes up from his power nap, we pile in for a road trip.”
“Where are we going?”
“New York, New York.”
I stay quiet as he tries to solve the puzzle. “He’s Cosca, isn’t he?” he finally says. “And if it’s New York, then it’s Firenze. And if it’s Firenze, it’s Don Vincenzo, and he’s a monster! The stories about him…”
I frown, surprised at how quickly he got there—and his knowledge of Don Vincenzo. His brain works at the speed of a microchip, but I had no idea my brother’s world included all of this.
“Right on all counts. Why do you know this and I don’t?” Young Seers are taught the basics of vampire history and lore to help us better understand our potential allies and enemies. But the Coscas were not on the syllabus. Or it’s possible I was asleep that day—I wasn’t the most dedicated student. Since then, like Donatella, I haven’t needed to know more. Their ability to coexist allows them to fly under our radar.
“Because it wasn’t relevant, I suppose. The Coscas don’t trouble us. They play the game, obey their own rules, stay in their lane. Except their lane is pretty fucking big, includes some deeply shady shit, and makes billions of dollars each year.”
He glances up at me. “Tomasso was fascinated by them, had huge files on them all, and I picked up some stuff along the way. Look, I know you’re hung up on this Luca guy, but you need to be careful. Don Vincenzo is not to be messed with, and if Luca belongs to him, then neither is he.”
Too late. I’ve messed with him in all kinds of ways already. “What do you mean, ‘belongs’ to him?” I ask, the word leaping out at me.
“Okay, so I’m no expert, but as I understand it, there are different levels of service within the Coscas. You know the human Mafia?”
“Only fromThe Sopranos.”
He laughs, and the sound makes me smile. Old instinct.
“Right. Well, forget about that. So in a Cosca, the Don is the chief—the head of the fucking snake. Then he’ll have a counselor, who is usually swapped in from a different clan at birth.”
“Swapped in at birth?”
“Yeah. Don’t ask me why—something to do with them having clearer eyes, not being weighed down by family history, whatever. Then there’ll maybe be family members—in Vincenzo’s case, a daughter—either adopted or biological, if that small miracle has happened.”
It’s extremely rare for vamps to have natural children—technically possible, but hugely against the odds. I don’t know what those odds are, though. A million to one? A thousand to one? Jeez. I should probably find out more about that, given the circumstances.
“Then under that,” he continues, oblivious to my little side panic, “there’ll be a second-in-command, and the second will have their own people, and on and on it goes, right down to the foot soldiers. The big guys, the ones near the top? They’re usually raised in it. Sold and sworn in as kids. Sometimes before then.”
I drink in this new information and try to imagine the messed-up world Luca grew up in. The night we met, which feels like forever ago, he mentioned that his birth mother was a maid who sold him. Now I have an idea what he was sold into.
“So, like, he could be bought out?” I ask.
“No clue. But if he’s high enough in the chain, he’ll be sworn in blood to the Don. You can’t trust him, Rosa.”
I stare at my brother, with his too-long sandy hair and dark circles beneath his tired eyes, and wonder if he sees the irony of his words. If he realizes how hypocritical it is for him to lecture me on who I can trust after what he tried to do.
He looks away, stares at the ceiling, and I guess the answer is yes, he does.