Assassin's Heart (Assassin's Heart, #1)(49)

I nodded eagerly. “I can do that.”

We continued down the canal, lost in our thoughts. After a few moments the silence slipped into awkwardness. Les poled the boat and began to hum. I watched him.

“Do you always sing to yourself when thinking?” I asked.

He blinked. “I guess so. I’ve never really thought about it before. I used to sing in the tiger cages. And when I was hiding from the ghosts in the canals. I suppose it’s just a habit.”

I thought about humming my tune when marking a kill. It seemed we had something else in common.

“And here we are.” He poled his boat to a mooring and I saw that we’d reached the street next to their alley. Time to speak to Marcello.

Les tied the boat off and jumped out. I followed behind, but the boat rocked suddenly and I stumbled. Les grabbed my hand, steadying me. He laughed, his hand clasping mine, and I laughed too. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed. I’d forgotten how good it felt.

Les’s smile faded and he stared at me. His fingers stroked mine.

My breath caught in my throat and my cheeks burned. I pulled my hand free. “I think that’s enough for now.”

The wind blew a strand of his hair across his throat. Les rubbed his neck and nodded. “You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry.”

Was he? Because I didn’t have time for this. I needed to concentrate on the Da Vias and nothing else.

Even if, for an instant, I remembered how it felt to have a body pressed against mine, how it felt to feel so alive when Val kissed me and showed me how beautiful he thought I was.

But that wasn’t for me. It wouldn’t be fair, to feel so alive again, when my Family was dead because of me.





twenty-one


I SAT DOWN ON A CHAIR ACROSS FROM MARCELLO. HE glared at me while Les poured tea. Then Les disappeared into one of the back areas, leaving us alone.

I couldn’t decide if he was being polite, or a coward.

“I thought I told you to get out.” Marcello sipped at his steaming tea.

“You did. And I did. And now I’ve returned.”

Marcello set his cup down. “What do you want this time, niece?” he sneered. “Get it out so we can all get on with our pathetic lives.”

“I don’t have a life anymore,” I said. “The Da Vias took it from me.”

“That’s why I included you in the pathetic part.”

I dug my fingers into the arms of my chair, trying to rein in my temper. Marcello’s eyes flashed to my hands, and he grinned slowly.

He was trying to get a rise out of me, trying to make me angry so he would have an excuse to throw me out again. I wouldn’t let him beat me.

“They lit the house on fire,” I said. “While we slept. They came inside and set the fire and waited for us to flee our beds before cutting us down.”

Marcello tapped the arms of his chair. “That is what the Da Vias do. They are sharks in the sea, always circling, always waiting for an opportunity to taste blood.”

“I left my brother’s body in the tunnel,” I continued. “I left my mother in the house, fighting Da Vias, while the roof collapsed and surrounded her with flames.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have abandoned her, then.”

I bit my cheek until the taste of blood bloomed across my tongue. “Emile was four years old. Jesep was sixteen. Matteo was nineteen. Rafeo was twenty-four and already a widower.”

“So? What’s your point? Death comes for all of us. You of all people should know that Safraella sees not age, nor wealth nor creed.”

I needed his help. Why was it so hard to appeal to his sense of justice? “Help me, please. They were your family, even if you were no longer Family,” I said. “They were your blood.”

“Pah.” He shook his head.

I leaned back. “Maybe you are too much of a Da Via.”

He slammed his fist of the arm of his chair. “Don’t you dare call me a Da Via!”

“You were married to Estella Da Via. I know that much. And there you sit, choosing them over us.”

“I’m not choosing anyone. There’s no point to your little plan of vengeance. It doesn’t matter.”

“They were my Family!” My voice cracked shamefully, and I flushed.

Marcello eyed me. “And you were lucky to have them when you did. Not everyone in this world is so blessed. You should count yourself further blessed that you survived while they didn’t. Forget about them. They will surely be reborn—if they haven’t been already—and won’t have a single memory of you. Flee from here, from Lovero. Find some man to straddle and make yourself a new family. It’s the only way you’ll achieve any peace in this life.”

I glared at him. “I don’t need peace in this life. I need vengeance.”

He got to his feet. “Well, you won’t find any help here. I need you to leave now. And you’re not welcome back, niece.”

I stood. More than anything I wanted to hurt him, to claw his eyes, bury my stiletto in his unfeeling heart. But I had promised Les I would behave, and he was my only hope now of getting the information I needed from Marcello.

“My father would be ashamed of you,” I said.

Marcello smirked. “He already was. Now leave.”