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Chapter Thirty-Eight

LUNA

The sun is already over the hills. I must have slept through most of the morning. The fountain is still circulating a sun-kissed flow of water. After holding my mother’s power for half a century and being the place where Serafina ate with a strigoi , it still has the nerve to work.

On the toilet I used to share with the woman Carmine took to New York, I bend until my forehead touches my knees.

Yesterday, I tried to protect Nunzio from Carmine’s wrath by being a good girl. I don’t think I can do that today.

Your mind is your own.

I can’t get Corrado out of my mind. His devotion is eating him alive.

Your body and your heart are my possessions .

It’s not okay. I hate this. We are less human here.

I don’t want to be this. I don’t want my life to be on a path with mile-high walls on each side. I still have stupid decisions to make and consequences to face. I have years of weighing my choices between right and wrong. It can’t be over already.

In my room, there have been no toothless humans or witches to control the size of the hearth fire, so it’s the same as when I went to bed.

Just to prove a point, I hold my hand out to turn it off. Nothing happens.

“Told you,” I say to no one.

Carmine always tells me how powerful I am, and I believe he believes it, but I’m a mess.

I can’t even find my Nike duffel bag. All he’s doing is setting up a contrast between what he says and the truth I know.

The power he sees is only as strong as the person wielding it, and in this case, that person can never meet his expectations. Ever.

He sees a witch goddess or something.

He sees the most valuable thing he’s ever claimed.

“There you are.” I reach behind a chair for everything of value I own.

Nike. Just do it .

What a fucking shit piece of advice.

I could pluck Carmine’s heartstrings all day and he’ll never really love my sad little dishrag self, because he can’t see that in me. His huge ego inverted the whole process. He loves me; therefore, I can’t be anything less than glorious.

It’s all about him. My heart says it and my body will revolve around him at the slightest word, but that doesn’t make it true.

Swoosh . I unzip the duffel.

Jeans. Two T-shirts. Phone charger. Underthings. Papers, scrap and otherwise. Passports. The dregs of my toilet kit. A red Bic lighter. One pink Starburst wrapper. Two green twist-ties, stuck together. Cheez-it crumbs, deep in the seams.

I want to go home. I’ll even take Mom with me if I see her on the way out.

I want to make it right with her, and Laro, and even, someday, when the thrall isn’t so overwhelming, I want to apologize to Carmine, who I rewired in hopeful ignorance and who I’d tie into golden knots all over again if I could.

That’s the problem.

“In a minute. I’d do it again in a minute.”

The lapis clock ticks. He gave me that. It’s mine. It goes into the bag along with the Who T-shirt. I tuck the cameo back in its gold box. My neck tingles when I close the charm away.

In the mirror, I peel back the bandage. The pink scar could use some dry-out time—it’s closed, clean, crescent-shaped, still tender to the touch.

The venom worked hard to heal something that should have killed me, but it’s still a wound.

I toss the bandage and slap through all the drawers until I find more cotton squares and tape.

They go into the Nike bag with the toothbrush and toothpaste.

Zip .

I’ll go home and see Yaretzi and thank her for everything she tried to do for me.

I’ll tell Richie I’m sorry I left him without even saying good-bye.

I won’t explain how scared I was that he’d talk me out of it, or convince me to take him, or make me feel stupid for getting on that plane.

Because I was stupid, and lonely, and weak.

I’m still all those things, but at least I’m honest about it.

Duffel over my shoulder, I take one last glance out the glass doors at the fig tree, the burned-out building against the blue sky, the draining house, and the patch of dirt where everything that happened with Laro and Carmine and me wore the grass away.

I have power, and at the very least, I can shut the lights before I leave.

Hand toward the fire, I set my mind to seeing what’s between its energy and my intent. I catch the streaks of valence and align my fingertips with them until they tingle. Then I draw them closer together.

Nunzio’s leaning against the doorjamb.

“Turn around,” I say. “You don’t see me.”

“Where are you going?”

I take a deep breath. Even then, I’m not sure what I’m going to say.

“Carmine. The thrall. Insert what we both already know. But did you see how deep it can go? Do you remember Corrado before? Who he was? He had an identity. He was a lazy tough guy who took the path of least resistance. He was a rule-follower because the rules favored him. And he was all right. I liked him. He wasn’t a saint, but he had a moral center.

He knew who he was and where he belonged.

What is he now? Where does he belong? By Ferrante’s bedside?

Is that it? Is that all he’ll ever be again? ”

A crow lands on the balcony railing. Nunzio tilts his head toward it, as if he’s trying to tell me something silently.

“Which one are you?” I ask the crow. It opens its wings and readjusts them, but doesn’t change into Ario or Viaro.

“I don’t care. Fly to wherever he is and tell him that Luna said it’s all clear now.

Corrado’s going to starve down there waiting for Ferrante to wake up.

I understood it, and I don’t want to. Ever. I can’t be that. I can’t be this .”

“It’s Ario.” Nunzio reaches into his back pocket. “Viaro’s not great in the day.” He takes out his phone and looks at the display. “It’s for you.”

He flicks the phone to me. I catch it. Carmine’s name is on the screen.

Shit. This isn’t as good as being near him, but it’s also not as bad. He shouldn’t see me this fucked up over him and packing to get away from him at the same time.

“What time is it…” I get confused. “Where is he?”

“No clue.” He sits on the chair by the window.

“Well then, here I am.” I hit the green dot.

His voice comes over the speakerphone. “ Pronto , Nunzio.”

Carmine’s voice is like a blow to the heart.

“Hi.” My knees are suddenly weak. “Carmine. It’s me.”

“Luna.”

“I…” If I tell him what I’m doing, he’ll order me to stay in the villa. I won’t be able to disobey.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“I’m fine. I just… I miss you.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

“When?”

“Did you read my letter?”

Did I? It’s burning a hole in my heart. Now his voice is so close and all I can think about is him taking up space somewhere in this world.

“It didn’t say when,” I say.

“Soon. I left you enough to remind you of me.”

“You did something to the oranges.”

He scoffs. “I have no such power over fruit.” I can almost hear his smile. His voice is soft and suggestive. It is a caress that shuts out the rest of the world. “Only your reaction to it.”

“What I did to you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I believe you, snowbird. But it doesn’t matter.” He says it like a compassionate god. He’s so sorry for the consequences he’s imposed and that I was too human to anticipate.

“Can I talk to Serafina?”

“She’s not here.” Behind him, a siren wails. A horn honks. He’s in a city, either outside or by a window.

“How is she?”

“The same.”

That could mean anything except dead. It also means he knows how she is. So she’s still with him. It means I have time. I need him to stay on the phone with me forever, and I need him to not say another word. The more he talks, the more likely he is to give me some kind of command.

“You’re not hurting her for betraying you. I swear, Carmine.” I speak hope as if it’s a statement.

“I cannot hurt her.”

“Why?”

He takes a breath, then continues in compassionate god mode. “Domenico is dead. That’s punishment enough.”

In the background, I hear a loud beep, a rumble, and a robotic voice saying, “ Stand clear of the closing doors .”

“You’re in New York.” My heart’s desire is to stay on the phone with him. It’s as close as I can be right now, but my mind wears away at the thrall, scraping it down like a chisel on a six-foot-thick stone wall.

“You will stay near Nunzio. Do you hear me? It is not safe. You are not safe.”

Next stop, Fourteenth Street .

“I hear you.” I’m trying to remember what Fourteenth Street looks like, smells like, because the sound of the world he’s in is so familiar. I wonder how the woman he brought is enjoying it.

I take him off speaker and press the phone to my ear.

“Why?” I ask, going into the bathroom and closing the door. “Why did you bring her? What’s going on?”

“Sweet Strega, are you asking if I betrayed you? When in all of the world, in half a millennia, there has been no woman like you. No man or woman, no vampire, no other creature I have cared for even comes close.”

That’s very nice—comforting as hell, and he seems as sincere as a guy that I went into and rewired can be. Behind him, there’s a rumble and a beep, then an announcement for the next stop, which I only hear as ambience.

“No man or woman?” I ask.

“You’re so sweet, and as provincial as any American.”

“You’ve had male lovers?” I curl up on the floor with my back against the cool tile and my knees tucked into my chest.

“I have lived five hundred years. Do you think I’ve only enjoyed the company of one kind of body?”

“Actually?”

“This bothers you?”

“It’s kind of sexy.”

I wait for a reaction. The chatter and hum of the subway station cannot hide the fact that he’s not saying anything. “Are you there?”

“I am, always,” he says. The echo chamber of the station changes to the wide-open clatter of the city outside.

“Always, but not now. I woke up and you were so far away. It hurts, and knowing it’s the thrall doesn’t help at all.”

“When I woke up, everything was different, but nothing had changed. The world was worn out. I wanted the old power, the old ways… because that was what I was supposed to want. Then you showed up, and I was unsure for the first time. You surprised me with… everything. If I lose you… if anything happens to you… I don’t know what I’ll become.

I don’t…” He pauses again. “I don’t have a lot of time. ”

“You can call me back later.”

“No, I… yes. I mean…”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Just… be careful. Do it for me. For how afraid I am.”

He’s afraid? How can that be?

I don’t know how to help him. There’s nothing in this supposedly powerful Strega toolkit that’s marked STUFF TO SOOTHE A VAMPIRE’S FEAR .

“I’ll do whatever you want.” I make a promise I was ready to break five minutes ago.

“Obey me.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Don’t test it. Please.”

He sounds desperate. Unsure. Vulnerable. How is it possible?

“Carmine.” His name leaps from my throat to keep him just one more second. I don’t even know what I’m going to say.

“Luna.”

If I hadn’t changed the shape of him, would he be so tender with my name?

“About what I did to you?” I ask.

“You’re sorry and you didn’t mean it?”

“I’m not sure if I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.”

His permission unties a knot, and guilt rises and floats away like a birthday balloon.

“I think I want to own it. Maybe I’d do it again.”

He sighs. “The day you embrace your power, goddess help us all. Until then, let Nunzio and my kindred protect you.”

“Once I embrace my power, your feelings are the first thing I’m going to fix.”

“Like I said. Goddess help us all.” A horn honks on his side of the universe. “I have to go.”

He ends the call, and like that, it’s over, and now I’m falling off a cliff.

God, I hate this.

I go back into the bedroom and toss Nunzio’s phone onto his lap. “Thank you.”

“ Loooonnnaaaa …” Etta calls from downstairs.

These women left their children and their home to take care of me. At some point, I’m going to have to apologize to them too.

But did that flame get smaller?

I lean into the fire. It’s not gone, which is what I wanted, but it’s smaller. I’m sure of it.

“Huh.”

“… è ora de mangiaaaareeee …”

“Coming!” I call down, picking up the Nike bag.

“What’s the bag for?” Nunzio asks.

“Laundry. Duh. Obviously.” I roll my eyes and hop down the stairs as if I don’t have a care in the world.

I drop the Nike bag by the laundry room door. It’s ten steps from the front door, but that’s enough plausible deniability, in case I change my mind.

I won’t. I have to know.

Must I obey Carmine when he’s not here? Or when he didn’t give a direct order forbidding a specific action? Will the thrall stop me at the door or the gate? Am I strong enough to even try?

Maybe those are all separate questions.

After we eat, I will test the premise.