Page 2 of Depths of Obsession (The Emerald Dagger Mafia #2)

CHAPTER 2

W hat a fucking mess. I stare at the body on the floor. There aren’t many options here, and the few I do have are bad. Gazzago isn’t going to let this slide, and honestly, he has every right not to. If someone killed a member of my family, I’d rip their throat out and drain them of blood without a second thought.

I glance up at Pippa. Her face is ghostly pale, her deep hazel eyes wide with fear, like she’s trapped in some nightmare she can’t wake from. Her messy bun looks somewhat worse for wear and large black tendrils of hair hang down, framing her face. She’s still gorgeous, even in this state with blood all over her clothes. Being a vampire, the blood only adds to the appeal.

What the hell was this smart, beautiful woman thinking to get involved with this asshole? That’s a question for another time, though, and certainly none of my business. None of this is my business. My level of interest in getting dragged into this shit is less than zero. I have problems enough of my own. Sometimes, it sucks being in charge of security for Renzo’s empire. Our empire as he calls it. Not my fucking empire. Mine is altogether different.

But this is Pippa. A woman who has always been my weakness. Ever since that first dinner for Mia and Renzo. There’s something about her that sucks me in every time I see her. I’ve done my level best to keep my distance from her ever since I was warned off in no uncertain terms. But now, I don’t have a choice, I have to be here. I’ve been sent to protect her, which is good because she sends my protective nature into overdrive and now I don’t have to fight my instinct. I will do anything to keep her safe, even kill. I glance at De Carlo. I might even enjoy it.

I squat next to the body, ignoring the pull of all the spilled blood. It’s no longer warm, so not as attractive to me. Hell, my fangs don’t even prickle.

As I continue to pretend to study the body, I contact my brother. Renzo? I send my brother a telepathic call, my mind brushing his with urgency.

He replies immediately. What is it? What mess has Pippa gotten herself into?

Her boss killed Edoardo Gazzago. He’s lying here on the floor, right in the gallery.

For fuck’s sake. Renzo goes quiet, and I know he’s telling Mia, trying to figure out our next steps.

Gazzago is a pain in everyone’s ass, especially Renzo’s. My brother could’ve driven him out of Milano. I asked him to let me have at the bastard, but Renzo argued it would’ve taken time, effort, and a lot of resources. He said the man wasn’t worth it. I argued but he overruled. Now we’re in this mess. Sometimes Renzo’s ego is too big. I told you to let me get rid of him.

Telling me I told you so isn’t helpful.

And I give a fuck what’s helpful?

My phone rings, making me glance up at Pippa, who waits with an expectant look on her face.

I answer. “What do you want done? By the way, you are not on speaker.”

Renzo’s sigh communicates so much an unspoken thought: You know as well as I do that getting rid of Gazzago wasn’t that simple. His contacts are excellent. “There’s a rumor Gazzago has deep connections in the families.” What my brother isn’t saying is that Gazzago also might have connections in the realm of magick, or so we all have heard. “A rumor I couldn’t confirm or refute. Let’s just deal with this shit.”

I glare at Marcello and then Pippa. This is the last place I want to be right now. I had been on the way to one of my clubs about to enjoy some one on one time with a very flexible waitress.

“Give me a minute.” Renzo goes silent. The truth is Renzo lets people think he’s a little intimidated by Gazzago—it keeps the peace and makes it easier for him to do business with some of Gazzago’s contacts. It also keeps the old guard, of which Gazzago is a member, happy. As long as they think one of them can challenge Renzo then they feel vindicated not bothering to do it.

Gazzago runs the hotel laundry services and a lot of the booze in Milano. He also moves small amounts of drugs and guns. His network is why Renzo kept him around. As long as Gazzago stayed out of our way, Renzo was content to let him be, against my advice. But this... this is going to cause trouble. Gazzago will demand retribution. I have to find a way to keep Pippa out of it.

“I don’t think we have a choice.” I grind my teeth. “I can get rid of the body, but Gazzago isn’t going to let this go.”

Renzo sighs, the weight of the situation seeping through our connection. “No, he won’t. I’ll reach out and tell him where to find his cousin. You stay there with the dumb fuck gallery owner. Tell Pippa to go home.”

Great just what I want to do. Babysit this asshole. “ Fine, but if there’s trouble I’m handling things my way.”

Renzo pauses, and despite being on the phone with me, he blasts his frustration to me mentally. Out loud, he says, “Agreed. I’ve been willing to give Gazzago some latitude, but I’m not putting up with any more stupid shit. I’ll work out some kind of recompense for his cousin and let you know what we agree to.”

“Fine.” I don’t have Renzo’s patience for this shit. How do you figure that kind of shit out? What does one dead cousin cost?

“Luca, make sure Pippa’s okay. Mia won’t forgive me if anything happens to her, and I really don’t have the energy to deal with that.”

A quiet laugh escapes me. If someone had told me a few months ago that Renzo would be worried about what his wife thinks I would’ve told them they were full of shit. But here he is, afraid of dealing with his wife. No way in hell would that work for me. I think Renzo is spending too much time around humans. He’s forgotten how to be a vampire. Although to be fair, Mia is something special…for a human.

“No problem. I’ll keep her safe.” I disconnect my end of the conversation.

A split second later, Renzo blasts me with his final thoughts telepathically. That includes from you. Don’t get involved with her. We don’t need her finding out our secret and I don’t need to hear all about how you broke her heart. I do not want my life fucked up because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. Pippa is off limits.

I ignore my brother and break the mental connection. I don’t need to be lectured to. I gave my word I would stay away from Pippa ages ago, at that first dinner. Looking back, it was a stupid thing to do because of all the women I could have, Pippa is the one I want the most. And now, she’s even further off limits. My word should be good enough for my brother. Also, Renzo isn’t the only one who warned me off, although he doesn’t know that. The fortune teller at Renzo’s engagement party was clear. Pippa is bad news for me and my family.

I stand and turn my glare on De Carlo. “You and I are going to stay here until Gazzago’s men come to pick up the body.”

“What the fuck?” De Carlo snarls, his voice rising with panic. “Why the hell would you tell him?”

I smile coldly, knowing the expression never reaches my eyes. “You wanted to send a message. This is how you do it. You have to face the consequences. Gazzago is entitled to bury his own.”

De Carlo sags against the wall, his bravado crumbling. “I... I have a dinner I can’t miss. You’ll have to deal with this.”

I’m on him in a flash, shoving my forearm under his throat and pinning him against the wall, cutting off his air. His eyes bulge as he struggles, and I lean in, my voice a low deadly growl. “You’re not going anywhere until I say so. Capisce ?”

De Carlo’s face turns a shade of blue under the fluorescent lights, and he nods desperately. I ease my arm away, letting him collapse back against the wall.

Turning, I meet Pippa’s gaze. “Go home.” The last place I want her is here when Gazzago’s people show up. If things go sideways, I want to be able to go full vampire on Gazzago and his men. De Carlo will be collateral damage, but I can’t kill Pippa, and I can’t have her find out I’m a vampire. If finding a dead body makes her run at the mouth, seeing me suck the blood out of her boss will push her over the edge. Plus, I just promised my brother. Hands off no matter how sexy she looks when she’s scared. I need to stay a safe distance away from this woman or I might not be able to control myself.

Pippa stares at me for a moment, then gives a slow, reluctant nod. She starts toward the door, then hesitates, glancing back. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to keep my father from finding out?”

I raise an eyebrow. What am I, her babysitter? Not up to me to keep her secrets.

She sighs heavily. “I thought not. Well, fuck,” she mutters, more to herself than to me, as she walks toward the exit. “I have to pack up some stuff,” she says. “It will take a bit.” I step aside, giving her space to pass, but she suddenly pivots, balls up her fist, and drives it into De Carlo’s solar plexus. He crumples to the floor, gasping for breath. “That’s for dragging me into this mess, asshole,” she snaps, and then she lifts her foot like she’s going to kick him but then glances down at her shoe and mutters, “Not worth wrecking my Louboutins over.” She turns and disappears down the hallway to the front of the gallery.

“Don’t take too long,” I growl after her. A grin tugs at my lips as she lifts a one-finger salute over her shoulder and disappears. That was unexpected, but definitely entertaining. I can’t help admiring her fiery spirit. It doesn’t hurt that she’s easy on the eyes, too. To be sent to look after her without being able to touch her, well it’s a special kind of hell all unto itself. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t want any other man taking care of her, not even one of my brothers. I will make sure she’s safe, but I will not touch her. That’s the deal I make with myself. I can protect but not touch.

De Carlo groans as he struggles to catch his breath, and I fight the urge to punch him again just for the satisfaction. It’s going to be a long night, and I could use the amusement, but beating him senseless would only piss me off more. Besides, Gazzago deserves that pleasure. And I deserve the pleasure waiting for me at my club. I sigh.

“I’m going,” De Carlo mumbles, gesturing weakly toward the office.

I nod, keeping my expression neutral.

He staggers to his feet, swaying slightly, and shuffles toward the office door before disappearing inside. A moment later, I hear the familiar sound of drawers sliding open, the creak of leather, and a soft, rhythmic tapping. I take a deep breath, and the faint, acrid scent of cocaine hits me. I suspected it when I caught the whiff on De Carlo’s blood earlier, but now I know for sure—he’s using. Probably thinks he needs it to steel his nerves. It’s reckless and stupid, but that’s his problem, not mine. If he wants to be high when he faces Gazzago, so be it.

I turn away and drift down the dim hallway into the gallery. The walls are cluttered with modern art—random splashes of paint on canvas, chaotic and soulless. I miss the old days, the real art. Monet, Renoir—they created beauty that had depth, a soul. They also knew how to handle their liquor. We had wild afternoons together, laughing, drinking, living. This modern garbage lacks heart. It’s empty. A wave of melancholy tightens in my chest, and I fight the urge to dwell on the past clawing at the edges of my thoughts. It’s over. Done. As much as I miss it, it can’t be repeated. I think briefly of Vittoria. I don’t want the past to be repeated.

A rustling of papers pulls me back, and I glance up toward the loft. Pippa’s up there, still in the office, cursing under her breath as she packs up her things. She’s pissed, no doubt. That idiot in the back got her tangled in this mess. But she shouldn’t be surprised. Humans are assholes—always have been.

Her scent hits me. Lavender. It reminds me of France and my youth. Warm sunshine and good wine. Intoxicating. She is completely disheveled and vulnerable and it’s one of the deadliest combinations I’ve ever seen. My desire for her grows at a rapid and physical rate. If she doesn’t leave soon, I’m risk doing something I probably will regret. The fortune teller’s face flashes before my eyes. Stay away from her. She will bring about a great fall for you. Merda.

De Carlo moves in the back room, but I don’t bother to check on him. I don’t care. If he tries to run, I’ll catch him before he makes it five steps. I glance at my watch. Thirty agonizing minutes have dragged by. "Pippa," I call up, "time to go."

"I don’t want to have to come back!" she yells down, her frustration spilling out.

"You don’t want to be here when Gazzago arrives even more. Time to go," I growl. She needs to be gone. I can’t concentrate properly with her up there like that. The smell of blood and lavender are too much. It’s arousing all my senses along with parts of my anatomy, and I’m finding it difficult to keep myself under control.

She curses again, and sniffs. Is she crying? Please, no tears. I don’t do well with tears. Not since…I cut off that line of thinking. I know the sight of Pippa crying will be my undoing. “Now, Pippa.” I put urgency in my voice. I need her gone so I can focus. She’s too much of a distraction; a siren song to my soul. I give myself a mental shake and curse my brother for sending me here to look after her.

I thought it would be easier than this.

I was so wrong.

She gathers her stuff, and stomps down the stairs. "Why I thought this would be different, I have no fucking idea. I thought it’d be a fresh start, a new career—something good. Something not part of la famiglia . But no; another fucking clusterfuck,” she snarls, venom lacing her words but I can see the frustration in the tracks of tears on her cheeks.

Fucking asshole. I will kill him for making her cry.

The gallery door creaks open, and I know it’s too late. There he is—the man himself. Tommy ‘Two-Guns’ Gazzago. He strides in, flanked by three bodyguards, one of them carrying what looks like a rolled-up rug. My stomach twists, killing all other thoughts.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath. This could go south in a big hurry and with Pippa here it means I can’t just kill them all and have a feast.

Gazzago is short, round, and too perfect looking, almost like he’s made of plastic. His hair’s dyed jet-black, his face shaven smooth. But if he let the gray show and grew a beard, he’d look like Babbo Natale . All he’d need is a sleigh and reindeer. Except this Santa’s a ruthless killer, hiding behind cherubic cheeks and twinkling eyes.

I step forward and give a curt nod. “Gazzago.”

“Valdici,” he replies, his tone sharp, all business. His gaze flickers to Pippa, and his eyes narrow on the blood on her shirt. His expression is alarming when he lifts his gaze to her face. “You’re Danillo’s girl, aren’t you? I heard you worked here. How’s your father enjoying his retirement? Now that Aldo married Mia off to his brother”—he gestures toward me—“he’s no longer head of the family, your father’s not top capo anymore. Tough break. And his brother betraying the family…” He makes a hand gesture that means she’s cursed.

Pippa glares silently. Gazzago isn’t expecting a response.

“Where’s my cousin? Why are you covered with his blood?” His voice is edged with impatience as he glares at Pippa.

“In the back,” I answer, matching his tone.

His gaze flicks back to me. “And the heart?”

I blink, caught off guard. “Heart?”

Gazzago’s nostrils flare, his voice drops to a menacing whisper. “ Il cuora della regina .”

I stare at him, completely baffled. “The Queen’s Heart? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He glares at me, his once-twinkling eyes now hard. “The fucking Queen’s Heart,” he yells in his deep Italian accent. “That’s what my cousin was here for. Where. Is. The. Heart?”

I glance at Pippa, who frowns as she shakes her head slightly. I shrug and gesture toward the back room. “Let’s ask De Carlo.”

Gazzago nods. “Fine.”

“Pippa, head home,” I say, trying to keep her out of this.

But Gazzago shakes his head firmly and shoots out a hand to grab her arm. “I think this must be my cousin’s blood on her clothing; she is not leaving. No one leaves until I get the Heart.”

I want to argue, but I stop myself. If I push too hard, Gazzago might do something stupid and then I either go all vampire or I let Pippa get killed. Neither option is a good one.

One of Gazzago’s bodyguards moves first, followed by the man himself. I signal Pippa to walk ahead of me, and the other two bodyguards fall in behind us as we head toward the back.

I reach out to Renzo mentally, my frustration bubbling up. What the fuck is the Queen’s Heart?

What the hell are you talking about? Renzo snaps back.

Gazzago just asked me about it. Said he sent his cousin here to get the Queen’s Heart.

Fuck if I know anything about it. Ask De Carlo. Or better yet, ask Pippa. She must know something.

We reach the storage room just as Gazzago barks, “You’re the bastard who killed my cousin, eh?”

De Carlo, eyes defiant, lifts his chin. “He tried to cheat me.”

Gazzago grunted and two of his henchmen rushed forward, grabbing De Carlo and slamming him into the wall. “My cousin was not a cheat, you stronzo . You made a deal with him and didn’t keep your side of the bargain.”

“Bullshit,” De Carlo spat. “I kept my side. Your cousin didn’t keep his. Or yours.”

Gazzago’s eyes narrow and his voice lowered dramatically. “Are you calling me a cheat?”

De Carlo stuttered a bit as one of the bodyguards squeezed his throat. “Look…” was all he managed to get out before his airway was completely cut off. His eyes widened and he looked frantically around the room, making eye contact with me. He stared at me as if I was going to jump in and save him. I couldn’t care less if he died. Pippa was going to have to find a new job anyway. Of course, it would mean I wouldn’t have the pleasure of killing him for betraying her. That was a downside, for I would very much like to kill De Carlo and drain him of blood.

Luca, with Gazzago’s possible ties to the magick realm, this Queen’s Heart could be important. Find out what it is and what Gazzago wants with it , Renzo demands, his voice tense in my mind.

Fucking hell. I turn my gaze to Gazzago, my patience wearing thin. “Let him speak,” I growl, my voice low and dangerous. Gazzago shoots me a glare, but I hold his gaze, unfazed. “Might want to get your questions answered before you kill him. Hard to interrogate a corpse.” Not impossible, though. I’ve seen it done before in the magick realm—disturbing, but effective. Gazzago would shit his pants if he saw that. It’s not for the faint of heart.

Gazzago considers my words, then nods. The bodyguard loosens his grip on De Carlo, and he slumps between the two men, gasping for air.

“Now,” Gazzago hisses, “fucking tell me what I want to know.”

De Carlo struggles to breathe, his chest heaving, trying to form words but nothing comes out.

Then Pippa’s voice cuts through the tension. “Wait, Marcello, you actually have the Queen’s Heart?” Her eyes are wide, disbelief etched across her face.

De Carlo, still gasping, nods weakly. A chill skates down my spine. I’ve never heard of this heart thing, but the name alone sends a ripple of unease through me. “What is the Queen’s Heart?” I ask, bracing for an answer I’m certain I won’t like.

Pippa takes a shaky breath and speaks, her voice tight with unease, “The Queen’s Heart is a diamond necklace with a large center ruby. It was given to Queen Maria Cristina of Savoy by her husband, the King of Sicily, back in the eighteen hundreds. Supposedly he got it from the Pope at the time as payment for something. No one knows what.

“When Maria died after a short illness, her sister Charlotte took the necklace and wore it constantly until she was killed in an unfortunate riding accident. The necklace disappeared after that. It’s in the portrait of Queen Maria that’s hanging in the Galleria dell’Accademia di Firenze. There’s been rumors about it over the centuries, but no one has seen it in years.” She hesitates before adding, “It’s worth a fortune on the black market, but if it became public, Italy and the Vatican would probably fight for it. No private collector would be allowed to keep it.”

The weight of her words sinks in. A priceless necklace that disappeared after the two people who owned it died. Sounds like a bad omen with possible connections to the magick realm. The sooner I get this sorted and get Pippa the hell out of here, the better.

De Carlo leans back against the wall, still catching his breath, his face pale but defiant. “I-I made a deal with you,” he stammers, looking directly at Gazzago. “Two point five million for the Heart. It’s worth far more than that! Edoardo showed up here and demanded the Heart but tried to give me five hundred thousand. Five hundred!” His voice rises with fury, his face turning red. “He said the deal had changed—take it or leave it. So I told him to fuck off. When he wouldn’t let me go, I stabbed him. I’m not getting ripped off by some lowlife thug.”

As De Carlo speaks, I notice Gazzago’s expression—cold, blank. But I can tell this is news to him. He hadn’t known about Edoardo’s betrayal.

“Where’s the money?” I ask, my voice cutting through the silence.

De Carlo jerks his chin toward a bench in the back of the room. “It’s under that bench, behind a box.”

Gazzago nods at one of his men, who moves swiftly to the bench, rummages around, and pulls out a duffel bag. He walks it over to Gazzago and hands it to him. Gazzago opens it, glancing inside briefly, but I don’t need to see. De Carlo was telling the truth—two point five million wouldn’t fit in that bag. Gazzago’s face remains expressionless, but the lack of reaction says everything.

“Where’s the Heart?” I ask De Carlo, my voice firm, demanding.

De Carlo glares at me, defiance twisting his face as he straightens up, trying to shrug off the men holding him. “Somewhere safe,” he sneers. Then, turning his hateful gaze toward Gazzago, he spits, “I’m not getting it until I get what we agreed to.”

Gazzago gives a subtle nod, and the bodyguard on his right slams a fist into De Carlo’s left kidney. De Carlo doubles over, gasping for air. Gazzago watches, cold and calculating. “How do I know you didn’t already take the rest of the money?” he says smoothly. “Maybe you took it and left this bit to claim you were cheated.”

I glance at Gazzago, raising an eyebrow. That’s the lamest excuse I’ve heard. He’s grasping at straws. Clearly, Edoardo cheated them both, but Gazzago won’t admit he’s been duped. He’s too proud for that.

De Carlo straightens up, still wheezing, and Gazzago gestures again. Another punch lands, and this time, De Carlo crumples to the floor.

“You still killed my cousin, stronzo ,” Gazzago growls. His eyes flick toward Pippa, and something dark flashes across his face. “You knew about the deal? Maybe you have the rest of the money.”

Pippa shakes her head, eyes wide.

“Maybe I should tell your father about all this,” Gazzago continues, his voice dripping with menace. “He should have better control over his daughter. You were here when my cousin died. You have his blood all over you. You’ll need to pay as well. Maybe betrayal runs in the family.”

“Gazzago, be careful,” I warn, my voice low and steady. I don’t need to say more. He knows what I’m implying—I won’t tolerate him doing something stupid. Pippa will not get hurt. She is not responsible for what her uncle or her boss did.

Gazzago’s glare sharpens on me, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he motions to the body, and his men move to pick up Edoardo. One of them unrolls the rug, and they dump Edoardo’s body inside before rolling him up again like a piece of discarded trash. They haul him out, the stench of death lingers in the air behind them.

“I want that Heart,” Gazzago declares, turning back to De Carlo. “I’ll have the rest of your money, one million and nine hundred thousand, tomorrow. I’ll be in touch.”

“That’s one hundred thousand short,” De Carlo croaks, struggling to sit up.

“The discount is for killing my cousin,” Gazzago retorts, his voice icy. He heads for the door, his bodyguards trailing behind. “And be happy I’m not charging you more.” He pauses at the threshold, glancing back at Pippa with narrowed eyes. “You’ll need to pay a price as well for the part you played in this.” He sneers and gives her a wink. With a final snort, he leaves, the heavy door closing behind him.

De Carlo’s still on the floor, now leaning against the wall, his face pale and sweat beading on his forehead. I crouch beside him, my voice low but full of warning. “How the fuck does a loser like you end up with this Queen’s Heart?”

“I’m a respected art dealer,” he wheezes, as if that explains everything.

“You’re a jacked-up loser who got money from his father’s death in New York and then moved over here and opened this fucking gallery. So I repeat, how did you end up with the Heart?”

De Carlo glares at me but as I raise my hand, he starts talking. “I heard a rumor that the Heart had been found.” He pauses.

“And?” The urge to feed on De Carlo is strong and I can feel my fangs start to grow. He needs to tell me what I need to know now.

“And there’s an auction for it. I was supposed to be one of the people who are holding the necklace for the auction. It moves from place to place, so no one can steal it but I got a call that they changed the plan so I don’t have it.”

“Let me get this right: You were selling something you didn’t even have to a stone-cold killer. How the fuck did you think this was going to work out for you?”

De Carlo shrugged. “I was making the most of an opportunity.”

“When and where is the auction and who is holding it?”

“I’m not sure when or where yet. They won’t tell anyone until just before. It’s being run by Gianfranco Calaba.”

I want to rip De Carlo’s throat out. Not only did he get Pippa mixed up in this mess with Gazzago, now she’s involved with Calaba, one of the most notoriously deadly black market dealers on the planet.

“Calaba?” Pippa says weakly. “Fucking hell. That man gives me the creeps. I can’t believe you were going to rip him off. You must have a death wish, Marcello.”

I stare at the gallery owner, my mind racing. This can’t be happening. “You made a deal with Gazzago. He’s not going to be pleased if you don’t deliver.”

“I know! I know!” De Carlo whimpers, panic creeping into his voice. “I freaked out when Edoardo showed up early. I wasn’t supposed to have the Heart until tomorrow.”

Pippa snorts in disbelief. “And stabbing him seemed like a good idea?”

“Edoardo figured out I didn’t have the Heart, and he said he was going to tell Gazzago and then tell Calaba that I had been trying to sell the Heart out from under him.”

“So Gazzago knows about the auction?” I ask.

“No,” De Carlo shakes his head. “Edoardo knew but he said his cousin didn’t know and that’s why he wanted to make a deal for the five hundred thousand. I got freaked out and stabbed him.”

My fists clench. Renzo’s going to lose his mind, and Tommy Two Guns will make sure De Carlo ends up full of bullet holes after this mess.

“So Edoardo ripped off both Gazzago and you, but you have no idea where the Heart is?” I ask, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You’ve gotten yourself into one hell of a mess,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“But you’re going to help me, right?” De Carlo asks, his voice rising in desperation.

My patience evaporates. “Why the fuck would I help you?” I snap.

De Carlo’s eyes narrow and he gives me a sly smile. “Because if you don’t, I’ll tell Gazzago that Pippa stabbed Edoardo and that she was in on the whole thing from the beginning.”

Rage surges through me. I reach out and grab De Carlo by the throat, lifting him up onto his toes. “Die asshole,” I say as I squeeze his throat.

“Luca, wait. As much as I hate to say it, we need him alive,” Pippa says softly. Her voice is strained, worry clear in her eyes. “We have to help him. If we don’t, Gazzago will demand my family pay the price for his cousin’s death—and the missing necklace.”

I stare at her, my chest tight with frustration. She’s right, of course. Gazzago won’t let this slide. He’ll demand a price, and I have a sickening feeling it might be her. The way he looked at her when he left made my skin crawl. The thought that he might actually touch Pippa makes me want to kill him in the most painful way possible.

I drop De Carlo to the floor. A headache pounds at my temples, and a sense of dread coils in my gut. Why do I have the feeling I’m going to have to find this damn necklace in order to save Pippa? Keeping her safe is my top priority, but even with my status in the magick realm, I know nothing good is going to come from this. I can feel it in my bones.