“Hi, is Rosa home?” she says, her hands on her slender hips, head cocked to one side. She presses one viciously pointed heel down on the vamp’s chest, and I grimace as it pierces his wounded flesh. “I’ve brought her a present.”
She looks around and takes in the defenses, and her expression turns pouty. “Well, that’s really very rude.” Her eyebrows lift as she studies me. “And do you greet all your guests with your dick out, or am I special?”
Oh shit. I completely forgot the whole clothes thing.
“Not that I’m complaining,” she continues, strolling closer and staring at my junk. “I mean, it is an impressive dick.” She doesn’t seem at all fazed by any of this—the howling pit bull, the metal bars, the naked vampire growling at her. She must have balls of steel.
I’m about to reply when Rosa gallops down the steps behind me, yelling at Matteo to “stop fucking around and let me in.” Matteo won’t do shit until he knows it’s all right by me, so I give the camera directly above the front door a thumbs-up. The bars click back up, and Rosa runs toward her friend.
She never mentioned that they were close, and maybe they’re not—maybe it’s the relief of seeing someone she knows, someone who isn’t a vampire—but they fall into each other’s arms like sorority sisters after summer break.
“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” I say, letting go of Moonface’s collar. Now that the bell has stopped ringing, she’s back to her usual sweet self. She runs over to the two women and shoves her giant head between them until she gets some attention. Donatella sinks into a graceful crouch, the curve of her ass threatening to bust out of her pencil skirt, and accepts a thorough doggy tongue bath.
Matteo comes up behind me and looks on with a goofy smile on his crooked face. “Who knew Seers were such hotties?” he whispers. “And they like Moonface. I think I might be in love.”
I fix him with a warning glare. “I’ll be back in five. Keep an eye on the vamp—he’s healing, and he might be dangerous.”
“Sure thing, Boss.” Matteo goes over to the now-crawling figure and kicks him once in the face so hard he goes straight back down.
Leaving them to it, I take the stairs three at a time back up to my room, where I sling on some clothes. On my way back down, I find Pietro on the landing, scooting himself along with his hands. With a sigh, I scoop him up and carry him down with me. I’ve changed my mind—I wish to fuck that his legs would hurry up and heal.
I dump him on the floor and wonder what disasters I’ve managed to miss in a matter of seconds. The crispy vamp is cowering in a corner of the room. Moonface tries to lick his nose, and he waves his arms at her in protest.
“She’s only being friendly,” says Donatella. “Go on, give her a pat.”
“Get it the fuck away from me,” he retorts, his Southern accent as deep-fried as his singed flesh. “It’s a monster. It’s going to kill me!”
“She’s not a monster.” Matteo whistles her back to his side and glowers. “And she’s not a weapon. She’s my little baby girl, and if you don’t watch your mouth, you cocksucker, I’ll stick a stake in your heart via your asshole.”
Donatella looks on, interest clear on her face, then uses a stage whisper to talk to Rosa. “Ooh, I like this one. Can I keep him?”
I walk over to the bleating vamp and knock him out with once quick punch to the head. It’s beginning to feel a bit like I’m living in an episode ofThe Three Stooges, and I need to gain control before things get any more out of hand. Who the fuck is this guy, and why did Donatella bring him here? More importantly, is Rosa right—can we trust this woman?
“Pietro!” Donatella says, noticing his crumpled form at the base of the stairs. “What happened to you?”
“Long story, for another time,” he answers.
Good luck with telling that one, pal. It doesn’t exactly leave him covered in glory. Rosa’s smile falters, and I know she’s thinking the same thing. Her fingers tremble a little as I take her hand in mine, and I drop a kiss on her forehead. She turns those green eyes up to me, so full of hope, so full of trust. She feels safe with me, and that makes my knees weak.
I hide the emotion but keep hold of her hand as I tell Matteo to go reset the security. If Rosa was wrong—if the Agostini Seer has led Tomasso right to us—we need to be prepared.
“How’s Paola?” Rosa asks in a higher-than-normal tone. I sometimes forget how much humans, even quasi-humans like her, care about each other.
If something bad happened to Matteo, I’d burn down the world to avenge him, but that’s all. I wouldn’t feel it in my heart the way Rosa does.
“She’s good,” Donatella replies, a little smile on her lipstick-red lips. “She’s regained consciousness. Only spoken a few words, but she’s awake—and you know how tough she is. She’ll come back fighting.”
“That’s wonderful news, and I’m so glad to see you, Donna. But I have questions, and I’m sure you do too. For starters, who’s the loser in the corner? And what’s with the hat?”
“That’s a fez. Picked it up in Cairo and thought it looked cute. The loser in the corner is Kurt,” she announces smugly, and a surge of anger rises in my chest. I’m glad I punched him out, and I look forward to doing it again.
This is the fucker who’s behind the constant Calls Rosa has been dealing with. The asshole who was trying to exhaust her, wear her out, weaken her so they could pick her off. So far it’s all been rumor, supposition. Now we have the man himself and we might get some answers. Or he’ll die while I’m trying.
“After you called, I went to the hospital where Paola had been until that morning,” Donatella continues. “I lay in her bed, pretending to be her, and when he came close enough, I took him down. You should have seen it, Rosa,” she says, laughing. “He jumped out of his skin when this girl he thought was in a coma suddenly leapt up and kicked the shit out of him. It was so funny. And then, well, I chartered a flight and got the hell out of Cairo. I opened all the windows on the plane so poor Kurt had to sit in the toilet cubicle for twelve hours straight. That was also pretty hilarious. In fact, I’ve really enjoyed having him around.” Again, her laugh rings out, but then she turns serious. “Now, your turn—what the fuck is going on?”
“Could I get away with ‘long story for another time’?”
“Nah. I’ve flown halfway around the world and lied to my parents to come here. You know I hate lying to my parents.”
