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Chapter Twenty-Eight

LUNA

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I bend the seal. Before it snaps, I stop.

This is Nunzio doing what made men do—Carmine’s bidding.

What if Carmine left me some kind of command, and as soon as I read it, I’ll be compelled to obey it? What if this means my heart isn’t just going to be obsessed with thoughts of him, but now I’m going to do his bidding from far away? While he’s with Serafina?

A pain sticks in my chest. I hate this. I hate needing to open this letter because some of his mind is inside it. I run my finger over the red wax seal. The raven is smooth to the eye, but to the touch, it feels like real feathers.

Him. His magic.

No. His power. He put it here for me.

Carefully, I break the seal. Then stop when I see his handwriting. I’m flooded with an unnatural relief. Tears flow down my cheeks. I don’t even know what I’m crying about. My heart and my mind aren’t communicating at all.

My dearest Luna ,

I write this letter from the foot of your bed.

I’ve coated the wound on your throat with venom.

It will take a day or two to heal this first time.

For the rest of your life, touching the scar will bring pleasure and pain.

You will remember. You’re remembering right now, in your dreams. You twitch and sigh in your sleep.

Absently, I touch the place he bit and yes. He’s right. The discomfort is real, but so is the warm glow of memory, contentment, and arousal.

I took you too far. I blamed a fifty-year hunger. But what’s the point of living so long if I can’t discern my own lies?

The hunger was for you. You. Your scent. Your voice. Your agony. Your ecstasy. I have never drained or fucked anyone the way I drained and fucked you. My need to consume you comes from a place so deep, only the depths of Hell can see it.

It is so clear now, what you did to me. I thought I could close myself to you, but I will never be able to drink from you without giving you access to my heart. I am not sure I can control the blood-lock with you.

You made me

The next four words are scribbled out. I can’t discern what wrong thing they said.

I can’t imagine him making an actual mistake.

Was he expressing something dishonest or too honest?

Maybe this was his last piece of paper. Maybe he’d already drafted it a hundred times and just said “fuck it” and crossed out the offending words.

The error was a moment in his life. It’s him . I draw my finger over the scribble. What did these hard blue marks obliterate?

“Okay, Luna, move on.”

I shake it off and continue. At least I can obey myself.

You made me feel for you. You plucked my string. You told me there was a gold coil inside me. You reached for it, and you changed it. You remade it in your shape.

This need for you is false and forced. I know it is. Yet nothing has ever felt so real. An immortal does not fear anything the way I fear losing you, or what you can do to me if I continue to own you.

Your power is immense and terrible because you don’t know how to use it.

I have put you in thrall. It is the deepest thrall I have ever held over anyone, woman or man. It is only because of your blood in my veins that I had the power to touch you that deeply. It was intentional, yet I don’t know if I could have stopped myself if I wanted to.

I spit out a laugh. How human, to have free will but no control.

Now, I own you. Truly. We are bound by more than the scars on your fingers. You will desire me constantly. You will need to please me. You will obey me without question. Your mind is your own. I cannot reach that. But your body and your heart are my possessions .

When I return with the knife, my immortality will be restored. The damage you did to me will be reversed. I will decide what to do with you then .

—Carmine

Is that a threat? It’s toxic as fuck, for sure, but I feel no fear.

I should. I know I should. He thinks I hurt him.

Manipulated him. He thinks I bent his soul in my direction.

Maybe I did. He doesn’t care whether I meant it or not.

He’ll kill me for the power he says I have, and nothing about that is frightening. I’ll let him. I’ll die smiling.

Jesus. This must be the thrall. The worst part if it is that my brain recognizes how fucked the rest of me is.

PS: Audwyn is dead. He will not bother you again. The Scangas are no longer a threat. You are safe. Etta and Silvia Gargiulo will care for you while I am gone. Serafina will not come back with me.

Wait. What? I read the postscript again. He’s coming home with the knife, but not Serafina? I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but how can I not? Is she staying behind? Why?

King Strigoi was telling me he’s going away for a few days.

I just want to give you a reason to be happy when I’m gone.

Serafina told me. He told me. In my upset and discombobulation, I forgot. I thought his trip to take care of Audwyn was the thing.

He didn’t say he was taking Serafina. Maybe he was hiding that part. Maybe he didn’t want her until I started falling for him. Typical man. A parade of red flags.

He’s tired of her already. He’s leaving her behind. How stupid of me. I feared he took her away as a fuckbuddy because I’d be out of commission. But he’s not bringing her back. Why? Am I the home game and she’s the away game?

She hates him.

I don’t eat with strigoi.

That’s no consolation. He fed her oranges by the fountain in the dark morning.

The pain in my chest gets sharper.

No. I can’t do this. That’s not what the letter says. I have to chill. Calm down. Read it again for inference. Check between the lines.

I drink the water and study it again.

He tells me nothing about why he’s leaving Serafina or what the price of the knife may be. He’s coming home with it, because it has always been and always will be his property… which is normal Carmine, owner of everything in his sight line. I can’t infer much there.

“Huh,” I grunt on the fourth read, when I can see past the words and notice what’s not there.

He never says I have to stay put. He doesn’t forbid me to leave the compound. Not explicitly. Is that a mistake? He doesn’t make mistakes… except he does. The proof is right here in these scratched out words.

Denying the truth is pointless. If I find a way to go to him, I will.

Your power is immense and terrible because you don’t know how to use it.

What will he think of my power when I learn how to use it?