Page 44 of Depths of Hunger

My head is spinning, trying to grasp the sheer length of their lives. Four hundred years? My mind reels, and a sudden, irrational wave of jealousy floods me. “Were you married before?” I demand, my voice sharp.

Renzo’s smile is cold, distant. “Yes.”

His answer makes my stomach twist, and I feel like I might be sick. I stand up, needing to escape, but Renzo points to the chair. “Sit down, Mia. We’ll discuss that later.” There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes like he’s relishing my jealousy.

And I hate how I feel, and I hate that it even matters. He’s a vampire—a centuries-old vampire with a past I can’t even begin to fathom. This is exactly why I need to leave. If nothing else, this confirms my need to escape. Maybe they’ll be so focused on finding out who’s trying to kill them that they won’t notice me slipping away. I feel the weight of Renzo’s gaze. Or maybe not.

Chapter

Eighteen

Father, I’m not coming to Venezia. I must stay here. I still have la famiglia to run. And Mia is here. I’m worried about what’s going on, but I’m also worried about my wife. She’s a mere pawn in this, and she’s human, which means she doesn’t have the strength to withstand any kind of magick.My mental voice is tight, frustration and worry simmering beneath every word. Keeping Mia safe is at the forefront of my mind. I made her a promise last night and I intend to keep it.

My father’s voice is sharp in my head, his displeasure clear. Bring Mia if you want, but I want you here. You and your brothers. I don’t like you out there. You’re all in a weakened state.”

Nico and Luca are on their way with Esme,I reply, pacing the length of my office, unable to keep still.They should be there by now.

There’s a brief silence before my father’s voice cuts back in, more controlled but still tense.Yes, they’ve just arrived.

Relief floods me, but it’s fleeting, chased away by the lingering fear of what we’re up against.See to them, and we’ll continue this later. Esme said she would speak to her coven. Maybe we can get some answers about whatever this poison is.

Lorenzo.My father’s tone changes, using my full name—a rare anddeliberate choice that hits with the weight of a command. I wait, bracing for what’s coming.

I would feel much better if you were here, at the center of our power, surrounded by those who will protect and support us.

I clench my jaw, struggling to keep my irritation in check.Father, have you ever thought that it’s dangerous to have us all in one place? Think about what happened in Berlin. For now, it’s better if we’re more spread out. Once Nico and Luca recover, I suggest sending one of them to the New World. Our cousins in Nova Scotia would be happy to see any of us.

My father is silent, weighing my words.I’ll consider it. Be very careful, Renzo. Don’t get distracted by anything. You must stay on your guard.

Understood,I break the mental connection and leave my office, the need to find Mia is like an icepick between my shoulder blades. I have to see for myself that she’s okay. We couldn’t speak openly earlier, but now we need to have a frank discussion.

I pause in the foyer, reaching out with my senses to locate my wife, but she’s not in the house. Panic grips me, sharp and sudden. Where the hell is she? I stride toward the kitchen, fear blooming in my stomach with every step. My heart hammers against my ribs, and I burst into the kitchen, finding Albert calmly polishing a glass.

“Where is she?” I snarl, barely keeping my temper in check.

Albert glances up, unruffled, and nods toward the window. I follow his gaze and spot Mia standing near the water, beyond the shimmering blue of the pool. Relief battles with frustration, but I keep my tone measured. “Bring champagne to the pool and then leave us, Albert. Make sure the cameras by the pool are off.”

“Yes, sir,” Albert says, bowing slightly before heading to the wine cellar.

I let out a breath, the tension in my chest loosening just enough to make my way outside. I step through the dining room doors and head down the stone path. The sun is sinking low, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Mia stands at the water’s edge, her back to me, staring out at the waves as they lap gently on the shore. She looks small against the vast expanse of the sea, and something twists insideme. I approach her, the sound of my footsteps muffled by the soft grass.

“What are you doing?” I demand, my voice sharper than I intend.

Mia spins around, startled, her expression one of fear and something else—guilt, maybe. Like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t. “Renzo,” she breathes, her voice unsteady. “I… I’m sorry. I just needed some air.”

I study her, searching for any sign of weakness or lingering effects from the gas. The color in her cheeks makes her look healthy, but there’s a wariness in her eyes, a resistance that wasn’t there before. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” she says quickly, turning back toward the water, but her voice wavers. “No aftereffects from the gas.”

I grab her hand, and she flinches, trying to pull away, but I refuse to let go. “Come,” I say firmly, leading her back to the pool area. The sun dips lower, and the heat of the day is fading into the cool embrace of evening. The air is thick with the scent of seawater, and I guide her to the far end of the pool, then seat her at a table shaded by a large umbrella.

I release her hand and take the champagne bottle that Albert has left, pop the cork with a practiced twist and pour us both a glass. Mia, her movements slow, cautious as she takes the glass, staring at the bubbles that rise to the surface, lost in thought.

“You drink and eat human food,” she says, her voice laced with curiosity and something darker— Fear. “Does it…?”

“Nourish me?” I finish for her, watching the way her eyes flick to mine, searching. “No. Alcohol doesn’t affect me the way it does you either. The food is just for show.”

Mia takes a long swallow, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly, but I can see the tremor in her hand. “Seeing your brothers feed—is that what you call it? —today was unsettling,” she admits, her voice brittle.

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