Page 54 of Kiss of Blood and Sin

Enzo turned to Gianna. “Come on.”

She shook her head. “No.” That’s my girl, stubborn as a mule and twice as pretty.

Enzo came over, his face a mask of forced patience. “Gianna, he was planning on ripping him apart when he arrived. For now, he won’t kill him, but your brother’s hanging on by a thread. Don’t push it.”

“Go inside,” I chuckled, bracing my legs apart to avoid an embarrassing face-plant. It took every ounce of vampire power I had. “I love my new job. The benefits are killer. Literally.”

Enzo clasped Gianna’s arm. “Please.”

Angelo had stopped, probably waiting to see if Gianna would defy him. Family game night must be a blast at their house.

She broke free of Enzo’s clasp and walked past Angelo, her back ramrod straight.

“Good girl,” Enzo muttered. “Park the car then come inside, Romeo.”

“Right, because nothing says romance like being a punching bag and a valet,” I quipped.

I forced myself back into the car, my head spinning like I’d just chugged a barrel of vervain-laced bourbon. Somehow, I managed to drive the sleek limousine into the garage without turning it into modern art. I panted in the seat, my head rocking backward. Everything spun around as if I was on a roller coaster designed by a sadistic vampire.

Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. My new mantra. Should get it printed on a T-shirt.

My hand shaking, I forced my scraped-up fingers to pop the trunk. I skidded out of the front seat and landed on my ass. Smooth, Dimitri. Real smooth.

“He sure did a number on you.” Petar’s voice was about as welcome as a stake to the heart.

I whipped around, ignoring the searing pain that shot through my body. My eyes locked onto Petar's, a snarl curling my lip. "Oh, look who decided to grace us with his presence. Tell me, Petar, did you enjoy the show? Take notes while Angelo used me as a punching bag?"

The selfish bastard hadn’t moved his pinky to help me. Probably afraid he’d chip a nail. "Next time you feel like being a useless spectator, do us both a favor and disappear. I'd rather bathe in vervain than count on you for help." My voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

My fangs itched to descend, the urge to show Petar exactly how it felt to be left helpless almost overwhelming. "You know, I'm starting to think Angelo went after the wrong vampire tonight."

He grabbed my arm and dragged me off the floor.

“Let go of me,” I growled as I leaned against the car. “I don’t need help from someone who treats being a bystander like an Olympic sport.”

He gave me a toothy smile. “Fine, lover boy. But don’t forget our agreement. You need to get that mirror.” He snapped his fingers. “Now give me the talisman, or do you want me to tell dear Angelo that you raped his sister?”

I took some angry breaths. “Gianna…would deny…it.”

He shrugged. “She would, but who do you think Angelo would believe?”

The bastard had me. There was no way I could do another round with Muhammad Ali in there. He could easily kill me. With my hand shaking, I reached into my bloodied jacket and pulled out the talisman. It was still warm. I reluctantly handed it to my traitorous father.

Petar clapped his fingers over the talisman and gave me a smile that could’ve curdled milk. “Thank you.”

With that, he sauntered out of the garage like he’d just won the lottery.

“You’re welcome,” I called after him, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Feel free to not come back anytime.” I eyed the tire iron in the trunk, briefly fantasizing about introducing it to Petar’s skull. Sadly, my body felt like it had gone through a meat grinder, so vehicular vandalism would have to wait.

It took every bit of strength I had left to pull out Gianna’s three pieces of luggage. What the hell were in these bags? Cement overshoes?

I staggered along the sidewalk, pushing the stupid luggage, each step feeling like I was walking on vervain-coated Legos. The kitchen I stumbled into was bigger than my apartment. Great, I’d been demoted from vampire to Cinderella.

Gianna waited for me, worry etched on her face. Angelo stood beside her, gripping her arm like she might make a run for it. Maybe to Vegas. I hear they do great vampire weddings there.

“Let go of me,” Gianna hissed at her brother, struggling like a kite in a windstorm.

Angelo’s gaze swept over me, his smile reminiscent of a shark that had just spotted an all-you-can-eat buffet. I half expected him to start humming theJawstheme.

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