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Chapter Forty-Six

LUNA

The Citadel at the Far Edge of the Western Sea.

I’m so wrapped in the magic of those words, and the texture of the orange, that I don’t even think of correcting the use of Mrs. Montefiore.

Serafina, of course, isn’t so enchanted.

“Her name is Beneforte,” she says to the slim, dark-skinned person in a business suit who appeared out of nowhere, with what appears to be a battery-powered light. “That wedding was bullshit.”

“Either is fine.” I put back the orange.

“Do you want to see your room?” The light gets smaller as it’s taken halfway down the hall in anticipation of my agreement.

“I do go by Beneforte, if you have to use my last name,” I say when I catch up. “Luna, if you don’t. And you don’t.”

“Very good. I’m Alex. That’s the whole name, and I use they/them pronouns.”

“Cool. This is a really nice place.”

“You don’t even see it after a while.” The emotions around them are visible and readable, but not particularly large or deep. They’re a special creature, but not a vampire.

Serafina’s already been here a few days, but English isn’t her first language. I hope she hasn’t been giving Alex a hard time over the pronouns.

She flips her hair over her shoulder as she heads down a hall. “They’re the one who won’t let me cook.”

Well, she threaded that needle like a champ. I guess she doesn’t need the English lesson.

Alex indicates I should follow Serafina. “Those are the rules. Guests of Mr. Corragio do not cook or clean.”

Though the living area has a warm, vintage charm, once we’re through the frosted safety glass doors and in the hall, we get slick and modern.

Gray carpet and white bookshelves, though behind the glass doors, the books are cloth-bound, gold-stamped, thick-spined.

Old stuff. Probably not a Stephen King or Colleen Hoover anywhere.

“Any more rules I should know about?” I ask.

“You’re safe here. No one gets in without being invited—mortal and immortal. This apartment is under divine protection.”

“That’s kind of overwhelming.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“How long am I going to be here?”

“Apparently, Friday will be your last night.” They stop and bend slightly to make eye contact. “You’re not trapped. You can leave any time. But if you do, you’re outside his protection.”

“How will I know when it’s safe?”

“You’ll know. When your power is greater than the danger, you’ll know.”

My power. I’m still not used to thinking about myself that way. But I nod as if I understand completely.

Alex pats my shoulder and reaches into a doorway. They flick on a light and stand out of the way so I can get through. “Your room.”

“Oh.”

I don’t know what I expected after seeing the hallway and sitting room.

Maybe something like the villa, with its constantly flaming hearth and dark everything.

But the walls of windows reflect the starkly modern design of white walls and sanded wood.

It’s crisp, and clean, and if it ever had a dark history, it’s been scrubbed away for my comfort.

A roof patio with tons of potted trees is illuminated by pale lamps.

“Thank you.” I scan for the door to the terrace, but don’t see one.

“They gave you the room that doesn’t go outside.” Serafina shoots Alex a look. “Mine does, of course.”

“It was not spite.” Alex holds my Nike bag by the straps, emoting a slight thread of disgust. “We brought this from the club. Shall we launder it?”

“No.” I take it. “Thank you.”

“They’re obsessed with cleaning,” Serafina says. “If you shit on the coffee table, it’ll be sterile before you even get your pants up.”

“The presence of shit is the problem, Ms. Orolio, not the speed of its removal.”

I hide my chuckle behind my fingers.

Serafina playfully slaps my arm. “This is what I’ve been dealing with for days.”

Alex nods. “Indeed. Would you like something to eat, Luna?”

“Yeah. Whatever you have is fine.”

“We have everything. What is your heart’s desire?”

“A cheeseburger!” I decide to go for broke. “And fries. Not McDonald’s. And a Coke!”

“Ms. Orolio?”

“I’m good.”

Alex tsk s and, with a quick nod, strides out. I put my bag on the bed. Serafina sits on a short couch that overlooks Central Park.

“What’s the deal?” I ask softly.

“The deal is, they and their little gremlins are going to make you a cheeseburger and fries that’s not from McDonald’s. It’s going to be the best thing you ever ate in your life. It’ll be cooked just the way you like it and seasoned in ways you didn’t know were possible.”

“What I meant was?—”

“I know what you meant. And it’s fine so far. Too fine.” She glances back. “I don’t trust any of this. These people, these creatures ? They aren’t like us.”

Knowing what we both know now, I can’t look at her when she says that, and she’s too perceptive to miss my discomfort.

“You know me,” she insists. “I don’t change shape. I don’t howl at the moon. They can inspect me and interrogate me all they want, but there’s no proof I’m anything.” She pulls her hair away from her face and holds it at the back of her neck. “I’m the same.”

“I believe you.” I sit next to her and drag my Nike bag onto my lap and unzip it. “I’m different though. He did something to me.”

“That scar.” She inspects it without touching. “Does it hurt?”

“Tingles sometimes.” I unzip the toiletry kit and take out the toothbrush and toothpaste, stuffing the bandages back in the pouch.

“What did he do to you?”

“Same as he did to the guys, but worse.” I zip the kit, but the pull on the blue bag is stuck. Fuck it. I toss it on a chair. I’ll deal with it later. “Anyway. Do they cook fast? I’m starving.”

“Not fast. Just people speed.” She shakes her head, deep in thought.

“If he hadn’t spent a week saying I had a family out here—like it was some kind of present—let me tell you, I never would have gotten in that car.

” She drops back on the bed and stares at the ceiling.

Carmine fed her an orange by the fountain.

He spoke gently to her in the sunroom. He was seducing her, but not in the way I assumed.

“I have to get out of here before they hand me over to a pack of fucking wolves.”

I toss the dental stuff on the bathroom vanity then drop down next to her. “There’s been so much.” I say it to myself as much as her.

“They know I don’t go outside and they gave me the room with all the terraces. Not spite , of course, but something.”

“Do you want to switch rooms? I don’t have agoraphobia.”

“It’s not a phobia. I’m not scared of anything, okay?

I just… can’t. Since your husband told me I was going home and…

he had blood on his cuffs when he put me in the car and Laro killed Domenico right in front of me.

Yes, I know it wasn’t Carmine who did it and it wasn’t Domenico’s blood, but I was stuck on a plane with those cuffs the whole way to America. ”

I take her hand. “It’s a lot.”

“They all think I’m a thing . A beast. A strigoi .”

“That word also means…?” I can’t say the word werewolf. She doesn’t want to hear it and I’m still getting used to it.

“It means both.” She squeezes my hand, still looking outside. “All of them. Carmine. Those wolves. Me.” She looks at me, glassy-eyed. “I don’t want to be some animal.”

“You’re not an animal. You’re magical, Serafina.”

“Domenico used to say that. Do you think he knew?”

“He knew you .”

“I just wanted to go home.” She presses her fingers into her eyes as if keeping the tears in her head.

“But there’s no home left, and I got him killed.

I spent all my time trying to get around his thrall and I let Laro murder him.

” She turns onto one shoulder and looks at me as if for the first time. “And now… you too. You’re in thrall.”

“Very much.” I didn’t expect to be ashamed of it, but under the fierceness of her gaze, I am.

“What’s it like?”

“Uncomfortable. My thoughts are my own, except when I’m in my feelings, then my heart takes over.

He’s all I can think about. I’d do anything for him, and it’s not just words.

I need to obey him. I live for it. Maybe there’s a part of that feeling that’s real.

A tiny part. Like a thread in the sheets that was there already, but it looks like all the other threads, and they’re all woven so tight… so whatever. It’s all confusing.”

“You were falling for him before. You admitted it.”

I did. We sit in silence and I remember my heart before the thrall. I was enamored of Carmine’s beauty, his cold wisdom, and his secret self. The preference for purple. The predisposition to laughter. The suppressed playfulness.

There’s a click behind us.

“Are you eating in here?” Alex asks. “Or do you want to eat on the terrace? It’s a little wet out but we have a canopy and heat lamps.”

It is lovely, and it’s New York City in the fall… but Serafina would want to stay inside and I don’t want to eat alone.

“She’ll eat outside,” Serafina says.

“What about you?” I ask.

“It’s fine. Trust me.”