This Vicious Grace (The Last Finestra #1)(62)

Adrick seemed to steel himself. “I’ll explain after you tell me if you have a Fonte. Is it working?”

She jerked back. “Yes. Sort of. It’s complicated.”

“It’s a simple question.”

She crossed her arms. “It’s a complicated answer.”

“So, no, then. And everyone here knows it, so you had to hire a thug from the docks to be your hired muscle.” His face twisted like he was fighting a laugh, and Alessa waited for the punch line, but he choked on a sob. “You’ve tried, but there’s no time left.”

“You’re giving up on me? Really? Adrick, I am trying so damn hard—”

“I know. I know you’re trying.” Adrick’s hoarse whisper faded into defeat. “You always are. Trying to cook dinner and burning everything, so we have to eat watered down soup instead. Trying to write the perfect essay for homework, then forgetting it at home so I have to retrieve it for you and get in trouble. Trying to be Finestra and killing your Fontes instead, leaving me to do the work of two people and jeopardizing all our lives.”

Every word sliced another wound that would never heal. A lifetime of guilt and embarrassment thrown in her face, and it only hurt more that it seemed to pain him to say it.

She was a burden. A screwup. And Adrick knew better than anyone, because he’d been there, cleaning up after her.

“I’m sorry.” Adrick’s face had never looked so drawn and serious. “But there aren’t points for effort in this. I don’t want this any more than you do, but I … I think, maybe, that’s why I’m here. Maybe the whole reason I was born.” Tears glittered in his eyes as he pulled a small bottle from his pocket.

Alessa backed away, her skin going cold. “What is that, Adrick?”

If she had to endure his betrayal, he needed to live with the guilt of saying it.

“You had your calling, sister. Now I understand mine. You know I’d never want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t.”

Adrick flinched. “Why do you think I told you to leave today? Do you think they would have been as careful as I would? No one else would take every precaution to make sure you didn’t suffer. Don’t you see? This is your way out. You’ll be a hero, and we’ll be saved.” Tears streamed down his face. “I made it special. For you.”

She wanted to scream, to pound his chest with her fists. She wanted to cling to him and beg him to take it back. Instead, she remained perfectly still, barely breathing.

Adrick placed the small blue bottle into her palm and wrapped her gloved fingers around it.

She stood there, staring at her closed fist between his hands. It was the most contact they’d had in years.

“Are you going to force it down my throat?” she whispered.

His eyes closed. “No. I know you’ll do the right thing.”

Dante darkened the doorway. “Time’s up.”

“Goodbye, little sister.” Adrick swiped at his eyes. “I’ll make sure no one ever forgets your sacrifice.”

Adrick left, and Dante approached, brows knit. “What was that about?”

Oh, now he was concerned? After he’d thrown their friendship in her face, he expected her to rip her wounds wide open for him? “Like you care.”

“I didn’t mean the stuff I said.”

“Save it. I don’t want to talk to you.”

She ran to the French doors at the end of the kitchens and threw them open.

A frigid wind whipped her skirts around her legs, and icy rain pelted her face. Despite her gloves, her fingertips stung as soon as she stepped outside.

“Bad night for a stroll,” Dante said behind her.

“I need to think.”

“Unpleasant spot for it.”

“Unpleasant company isn’t helping. If you want to finish this job, do it. But be a shadow.” If he didn’t want to be her friend, he could be her enemy. That seemed to be all she had left anyway.

“Can I say something?”

“No.” It felt delicious to shoot him down.

Ice coated the branches, encasing the trees like glass sculptures. Shivers shook her, but she kept walking.

Dante dogged her footsteps. “I’m trying to apologize.”

“Don’t bother.”

He sighed heavily. “Look. People usually try to kill me when they find out. I panicked.” He blocked her path, his gaze intent beneath eyelashes glittering with ice. “Will you please come inside?”

“No.”

He growled in frustration. “I’ll do it, okay? I’ll let you practice on me.”

“Why? You don’t care about Saverio.”

“I’m not offering to help Saverio. I’m offering to help you.”

She closed her eyes. “Forget it. It was a ridiculous idea. You don’t even have a gift I can use.”

“What do you want?” Dante demanded.

The frigid rain dripped down her cheeks like tears. “To be left alone.”

“Not now. In general. You say you want to be a hero, but you’re real quick to play the victim. You say you want friends, but you won’t forgive me. You say you want my help, but you won’t take it. So, what is it?”

She gestured to the high wall around the garden, at everything it kept her from. “To save Saverio. That’s what the Finestra is meant to do.”