Page 56 of Kiss of Blood and Sin

I waggled my eyebrows at her. “Pushing my luck is my middle name. Right after Danger and before Irresistible.”

But even as I cracked jokes and milked my injuries for allthey were worth, a knot of dread tightened in my gut. I knew the clock was ticking. As soon as I could walk without looking like a newborn giraffe on roller skates, I had a mission to complete.

Angelo’s office. Two magical items. Steal them or face the music of Petar’s big mouth. Talk about a rock and a hard place. More like a rock and a volcano full of vervain-laced lava.

I caught my reflection in the mirror across the room, wincing at the sight. “Well, don’t you look like something the cat dragged in, then dragged back out, then set on fire,” I muttered to myself.

Gianna’s footsteps echoed in the hallway, and I schooled my features into a mask of nonchalance. She couldn’t know that I was about to become a master thief. The thought of losing her made my undead heart clench in a way that had nothing to do with my physical injuries.

As she entered, I flashed her my patented smirk. “Miss me already? I know, I’m irresistible even when I look like I’ve gone ten rounds with a meat tenderizer.”

But behind the quips and the smirks, my mind raced. How do I get into Angelo’s office? How to avoid becoming a Dimitri-kabob on the wrong end of a stake? And most importantly, how to keep Gianna in the dark about the whole mess? As much as I hated to admit it, I lost my heart to her.

I sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the pillows. “You know what they say, no rest for the wicked. Or the wickedly handsome, in my case.”

Little did Gianna know, my rest was about to become a whole lot more scarce. Thievery, lies, and potentially pissing off the vampire equivalent of theGodfather? Just another day in the life of Dimitri, vampire extraordinaire and soon-to-be cat burglar.

I eyed the door to the bedroom, my personal Everest for the coming days. Soon, I’d have to climb that mountain and dive into the shark-infested waters of Angelo’s domain. But hey, who doesn’t love a good suicide mission now and then? Keeps the eternal life interesting.

The thought of Gianna discovering my plan twisted my gut worse than vervain-laced bourbon. If she thought I was just using her... well, let's just say I'd rather face Angelo's wrath than see that look of betrayal in her eyes.

Chapter Thirty

Gianna

I descended the stairs, my footsteps echoing in the grand foyer. The smell of fresh coffee and blood-infused pastries wafted from the kitchen, making my fangs itch beneath my gums. Dimitri was still sleeping upstairs, his soft snores a comforting rhythm I’d grown accustomed to over the past week. The memory of his battered body made my chest tighten, but now, finally, he was healing. My handsome mate was returning to me, one faded bruise at a time.

As I entered the kitchen, my body tensed instinctively. Angelo sat at the table, sipping his coffee with the nonchalance of a king on his throne. I hadn’t spoken to or seen him since he’d had been the stuffing out of Dimitri, and the sight of him made my anger flare anew, a hot coal in my chest.

Angelo’s gaze flicked up to meet mine,his eyes as cold and hard as agates. He was impeccably dressed, as always, not a hair out of place. It was like looking at a statue come to life. “He’s still in bed? If I can’t stand up to me, how is he going to defeat a wolf pack?”

I cocked my eyebrow, mirroring his cool demeanor even as my hands clenched at my sides. “You’re stronger than a wolf pack and you nearly killed him,” I spat, each word dripping with venom. “And I’m not speaking to you.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, fear crept into my heart at the mention of wolves. Unbidden memories flashed through my mind—the dark alleyway, the glint of savage claws, the searing pain of bites, the overwhelming terror as I fought for my life. I pushed the thoughts away, refusing to believe that Dimitri couldn't protect me. After all, he had survived Angelo's vicious attack. He had to be strong enough... right?

Angelo set his cup down with a soft clink, the sound sharp in the tense silence. “Don’t try my patience, little sister,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. A shiver ran down my spine, but I stood my ground. “If I wanted your precious mate dead, he’d be dead.”

I trembled slightly, betraying the fear that still lingered beneath my anger. I scoffed, the sound harsh in my throat. “Enzo said you planned on murdering him, so stop spinning tales.”

I moved to the counter, my movements jerky with suppressed rage as I began preparing a tray for Dimitri. The familiar routine helped calm my nerves, but I could feelAngelo’s eyes boring into my back, making the hair on my neck stand on end.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Gianna,” Angelo said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. It made my heart twist painfully in my chest.

I turned to face him, tray in hand, my grip so tight I feared I might snap the handles. “Watch me.” I spun on my heel and marched out of the kitchen.

As I climbed the stairs back to Dimitri, my whole body shook with a mixture of anger, fear, and a deep, aching sadness. The heaviness of the tray in my hands was nothing compared to the plight of the situation pressing down on me. How long could we go on like this? If I didn’t mend my relationship with Angelo, he would attack Dimitri again. This time, I wasn’t sure Dimitri would survive. The thought made my eyes sting with unshed tears as I approached our bedroom door.

I pushed open the bedroom door, balancing the tray with vampire grace.

Dimitri was sprawled across the bed, sheets tangled around his legs. His eyes fluttered open as I entered, a lazy smirk spreading across his face.

“Well, well,” he drawled, voice husky with sleep. “Breakfast in bed again? I could get used to this five-star vampire resort treatment.”

I set the tray down, my lips twitching despite my mood. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re not exactly on vacation.”

Dimitri stretched, wincing slightly. “Could’ve fooled me. After a week in here, I feel like your kept prince. Though Ihave to say, the welcoming committee could use some work. Less fists, more fruit baskets, you know?”

I perched on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

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