Page 60 of Vows in Violence

“I don’t recognize this man,” I say, my voice steady despite the memories swirling in my mind. My eyes lock onto the stranger, assessing him. His clothes are torn, and bruises mark his face, but there’s a defiance in his eyes that intrigues me.

“None of us do. This man has kept his identity a secret from all of us,” Damon replies, a hint of fascination in his tone. His casual demeanor, the almost playful curiosity, grates on my nerves.

“Stop with the dramatics, Papparado. Who is this?” I snap, impatience lacing my words. I am not in the mood for games, not after everything I’ve been through today.

Damon laughs, a sound that grates on my nerves, like nails on a chalkboard. “This, Ivan, is Azrael.”

Chapter 23

Vivi

I’m probably biased, butmy niece is a bright child.

Her genius is clear to me as we sit on the floor in what used to be the master suite in my childhood home. Once my parents’ room and then Angel’s, it’s now Damon and Lulu’s.

Even though Angel is not really gone, it’s still painful to be here. I had thought that being back in my family home would make me feel safe and secure amid all the chaos surrounding everything that has happened, but every board and nail feels soaked in the essence of memory.

I have no desire to be here anymore. And whatever new world Ivan creates, I know we will need our own home for ourselves. Something new. Something that’s purely ours, unhaunted by any ghosts.

Now, though, I sit on the plush area rug with Giorgia and Lulu, sorting blocks by shape into a plastic contraption. Giorgia takes a block in her hand, studies it, and places it into the appropriate slot.

“Should she be able to do that?” I marvel aloud. “She’s so young.”

Lulu shrugs a little, brushing back a silky lock of her daughter’s hair with her fingertip. “She’s a smart cookie.”

Watching her stirs something within me. Was it really just days past I was pondering motherhood? I’m essentially homeless right now. I have so many other important things to worry about.

With the same finger she used to caress Giorgia’s hair, Lulu touches my knee. “Is he kind to you?”

Lulu’s question breaks into my thoughts. I lift my gaze, focusing on my older sister. The fact that Lulu is sitting here in front of me after being gone for so long is a miracle in itself. Her skin is still tanned from living in a warmer climate and her hair has grown longer, but she’s still Lulu. Still the spunky older sister who used to move my bookmarks around to tease me.

Right now, she’s worried. I can see it in her eyes.

I offer her a half-smile. “His is a strange sort of kindness, but yes. I know he seems rough and grumpy, but I promise it is there.”

“Rough and grumpy.” Lulu chuckles. “I would have said ‘brutal,’ but okay. Grumpy works, I suppose.”

“Do you remember how we used to steal those romances Mother hid in her nightstand? The heroes were all knights and princes and pirates, and they all had one thing in common.”

Lulu grins. “A big cock?”

“Lulu!” I feel a blush heat my skin, even as I grin.

“Well, it’s true.”

“I was thinking more about how in tune with their feelings they all were. How it was easy for them to spout declarations of love and be tender with their lady loves.”

“Hmm. Okay, that too, I guess.”

“What I feel for Ivan…what I know he feels for me…it’s different. Deeper. He doesn’t have to say the words. I know what he feels.”

“Okay.” She watches me for several minutes, the weight of her gaze a tangible thing. Something is on her mind; I can feel it. Finally, she shifts her weight a bit, seeming to come to a decision. “I trust you know your heart. And his. You were made to be happy,cara.”

I nod. “I know. And I am. It’s just…”

“Everything,” Lulu finishes. I flash her another semblance of a smile. She always did know me. “How are you doing?” she continues. “With it all?”

A heavy question, one without easy answers. We just buried Eduardo. I just killed someone. I don’t have a home, and faceless assassins are after us.

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