Page 45 of Vows in Violence

We are the devils.

Not too long ago, I entered this sacred place as a guest at the wedding of Luca Marzano and Carina Scarpetta. It was a day that ended up becoming even more momentous when my friend, Rowan, was suddenly forced to marry Enzo Scarpetta.

There was so much anger in the chapel that day, and all the while, my brother stood there beaming. He was the catalyst. The engine driving all of us forward irrevocably toward our destinations.

He was the wizard behind the curtain, and the Five Families despised him for all of his machinations.

But as much wrong as he did, I’ll miss him dearly. Ivan was kind not to make Angel leave me the same way he had in the past. He confessed the grace he had given him, and if I hadn’t wholly loved my husband before, the last pieces of my heart fell for him after learning of his subterfuge. Angel is alive, even if he’s not with us.

As alternatives go, exile is not the worst thing that could happen.

Shrugging the thought away, I focus on my surroundings. The last time I was here, the church was dark. Every arch and corner seemed foreboding and dangerous and frightening. Now, with the late spring sun streaming through the stained-glass windows, I can better appreciate Our Lady’s beauty. The stained windows paint the ancient wood and stone in multi-color light. Paintings and statues line the walls, something I hadn’t noticed when Ivan’s sentries had been in their places at my wedding.

This isn’t a scary place anymore.

Everything had worked out. Sort of, anyway. Nikolai is dead, and Angel lives, but the threat of Azrael and reparation still hangs over us.

Ivan stands beside me, several of his men spreading out through the room. “What are we waiting for?” I whisper. I’m not certain why we’re here, only that it has something to do with Angel and Azrael.

God, how I want to be done with Azrael.

Ivan blinks down at me. “We need to get in contact with Azrael. I must speak to the priest.”

On the heels of his pronouncement, the priest appears—the same one who married us, I note. He eyes us with a bland sort of curiosity. “How may I help you today, my son?”

Beside me, Ivan stiffens. He doesn’t like being addressed in that manner.

Son.It’s a reminder of things better left in the past.

I grab his hand and give it a slight squeeze. Ivan exhales loudly, deliberately relaxing his frame. He leaves his hand in mine, curling his fingers around mine in a protective gesture.

“I need information, and you can supply it,” he answers. “Who comes to collect the letters to Azrael?”

Father Greco’s friendly face disappears, replaced with an unsettling coldness. He draws himself up, taller and tighter, and regards us down the length of his nose.

“I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with this matter, Mr. Romanov. We communicate to the Mother, the Father, the Son, and the Saints through our worship, and that is—”

Ivan takes a half-step forward into the priest’s space. “Is it not a sin to lie, Father?”

“I tell no falsehood.” A blustering half-laugh escapes him, the only outward sign of nerves. I can smell his fear, though.

Ivan’s free hand twitches, and I know that his impatience is about to win his battle for control. “Do not test me, Father.”

Greco’s eyes narrow, but he does not reply.

Words spill out of me without thought. “I understand that you are afraid, Father.”

Ivan raises an eyebrow at my outburst, but he doesn’t interrupt. The priest remains silent, and after a moment, I continue.

“These people are dangerous, and they’ve probably threatened you. Or maybe you didn’t need them to say the words. You’re a smart man, and you know how these things work.” Greco’s lips part, as if he’s about to speak, but I reach out and grab his hand with my free one, stopping him. “I promise that no harm will come to you, Father.”

He gives a bitter laugh. “My child…my sweet, foolish girl. It’s too late for promises like that. Azrael already knows you are here.”

I lift my chin at his chiding and release his hand. “So, when we are successful, they will assume that you helped us anyway. You meeting with us at all has sealed your fate. If you give us whatever information you have, we can better protect you.”

The laugh fades from the priest’s lips, leaving his face pinched and anxious. “How can you possibly protect me? You don’t understand. Azrael is everywhere.”

Ivan smiles, an unfriendly expression on his stern face. “You will find that we have that in common. Much better to have me as an ally than an enemy, Greco.”

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