Assassin's Heart (Assassin's Heart, #1)(91)

Beside me, Les bent closer. He stared at Brand with hard eyes.

Brand leaned away, hands held before him. “I meant no disrespect. I didn’t realize you had claims on each other. Adoption, then. My father would take both of you.”

It would be so easy, to give it all up, to join Brand and his Family knowing that, truthfully, they were my blood family as well. To not have to be in charge, be the head of a Family, even though there were only two of us. Three if we saved Marcello.

But I’d stood before Safraella, felt the divine pain when She’d kissed me back to life. Whoever said death wouldn’t hurt? She’d asked me. And truly, whoever said life was supposed to be free of suffering?

If I gave up now, it would be to turn my back on Her gift of resurrection. To turn my back on Her. I would be no better than the Da Vias.

I shook my head. “No. I’m sorry. The offer is gracious, but we cannot accept. We must do this thing.”

From a dark alley, a Caffarelli clipper appeared. He leaned over and mumbled something to Brand before disappearing into the busy streets once more.

Brand stood. “My father says you are welcome to board your horses and to seek shelter in our territory through the end of Susten Day, tomorrow night. After that, he wants you gone.”

Les scowled, but I nodded. We didn’t need more time.

We’d make our move against the Da Vias tomorrow.





thirty-nine


BRAND SHOWED US TO AN INN LOYAL TO THE CAFFARELLIS that would let us stay for free.

The simple room had two small beds, a wash table, and a desk. We hadn’t rested since the fight with the Da Vias, and until I saw the beds, it hadn’t occurred to me I should be tired.

“We’ve been going without stop for over a full day.” Les dropped his pack to the floor. “And I just now realized I’m exhausted.”

“I think it was like with the food.” I set my mask aside and unbuckled my leathers. They stank. I could clean them before we confronted the Da Vias. No. It didn’t matter if my leathers were soaked in blood and sweat. There was more to come.

“It was as though, for a moment, we were brand-new.” Les sat on his bed to pull off his boots and remove his own leathers, stripping down to his linen pants. “I’m kind of sad it’s gone.”

“Nothing lasts forever,” I murmured, then dimmed the oil lamp on the table. The sun would be up in an hour or two, and I wanted some sleep before we left for Ravenna to find the Da Vias.

I climbed into the small bed, its wooden frame creaking loudly under my weight. The rushes in the mattress were lumpy, but they smelled clean, and the sheets felt smooth and soft against my skin. I lay on my side, facing the wall and its peeling plaster.

The last time I’d gotten any sleep had been in the jail cell in Yvain. Before that, the couch in Marcello and Les’s home. And being dead, if that counted. I’d probably never again have a safe home or regular sleep. All I could do was count the beautiful things remaining in my life: the clean sheets on this rented bed, that the Caffarellis hadn’t tried to kill us on sight, the cool night air on my skin.

The floor creaked. Chill air brushed across my back as Les lifted the covers and slid in behind me. I made room for him. He pulled me close, and the warmth from his skin soaked into me. Somehow, he’d read my mind, had understood my desire even though I hadn’t spoken it aloud.

He brushed the hair from my face and kissed me on the neck beneath my ear. His mother’s pendant pressed against my back.

“Les,” I said. He kissed my neck again, his hands sliding around my ribs to my stomach. “My brother’s still alive.”

His hands paused. “Rafeo?”

I shook my head. “My other brother, Matteo. I heard Claudia say it in the fight. After they . . . after Val killed you.”

He breathed quietly behind me. “What does that mean?”

My throat tightened. I shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it means he’s a Da Via now. I think I’ll have to kill him.”

Les sucked in a breath.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s . . . nothing.”

He was keeping something from me, something he didn’t want to discuss. But we were both in this together now, our fates intertwined when She’d resurrected us.

“He’s not my brother anymore, anyway, if he’s a Da Via.”

“He’s still your blood, Lea.”

“No. The bonds of Family are stronger than the bonds of family. That’s the way it’s always been. That’s why my mother turned her back on the Caffarellis when she married my father. It has to be that way, or no Family could ever trust another enough to arrange a marriage. And Matteo was always a stickler for rules and tradition.”

“Hmm.” Les trailed his lips to my shoulders, his hand slipping the strap of my camisole down my arm before he slid around to my stomach again. I placed my hand over his and guided him lower.

“Lea,” he murmured against my flesh, “are we going to survive tomorrow?”

My skin fluttered beneath his fingers, and heat spread across my body before journeying higher to meet the heat of his lips.

“No,” I answered, my voice breathy. “No.”

He nodded, his loose hair stroking my shoulders. He trailed his other hand across my back. The whisper of my camisole as it slipped across my skin was loud in the still room. His fingers hesitated, brushing lightly below my shoulder blades. I shivered.