Page 62 of Depths of Hunger

We’re brothers, and that’s what we do,Luca says, his breath labored,each inhale a struggle. Tell Father it was me who broke the lamp in his office.

Despite everything, I can’t help but laugh. So does Nico. Of all the things to confess at a moment like this, that’s what Luca chooses. It’s not even in my top ten things I expected to hear, but in this hell, it’s enough to remind me that we’re still here, still fighting, no matter what comes next.

I am here.My father’s voice cuts through the noise in my head, sharp and clear.

Be careful, Father. They have bullets laced with poison and, I’m guessing, swords, as well, to finish the job. Don’t come into the Duomo.I risk a glance around the altar and spot Marku struggling to his feet. He’s healing faster than I expected. All the vampires are back on their feet like an unkillable horde rising from the grave. Even with my father here, we’re no match for them. My strength is draining away, slipping through my fingers like sand. I glance at Luca; his breathing is shallow; each rasp a desperate fight for air. We’re both as weak as kittens, shadows of our former selves.

Gattina. My kitten. Mia’s face flashes in my mind, and a wave of regret crashes over me. I would have given anything for more time with her. My heart aches with a painful, erratic rhythm, each beat a reminder of everything I stand to lose. Mia, my perfect match—smart, ambitious, bold, everything I didn’t realize I needed until it was too late. I’ve committed the greatest sin a vampire can—I’ve fallen in love with my human wife.

And now, I won’t even live to savor that sin.

A loud crash reverberates from the back of the church, metal against stone, followed by a pained grunt.Nico?I reach out, desperate, but there’s no response. I try to move, but my limbs feel like they’re weighed down with lead, refusing to obey. Mustering every ounce of strength, I force myself to peek around the side of the altar once more. My heart stutters as I see my father and Nico fighting their way up the aisle. They’re locked in combat with the other vampires, but they’re not just holding their ground—they’re killing them. Thepoison-laced bullets seem to have no effect on my father, his movements are fluid and deadly.

One of the Albanians charges with his sword drawn; eyes blazing with murderous intent. My father moves like lightning, sidestepping the attack and striking the vampire in the chest with a swift, brutal blow. He wrenches the sword from the Albanian’s grasp, and with one smooth, merciless arc, he swings it through the air. The vampire’s head separates from his body, rolling down the aisle and coming to a stop on the opposite side of the altar, eyes still wide in shock.

“Lorenzo,” my father says, his voice calm but urgent as he crouches beside me. His presence is a lifeline in the chaos. “Stay strong.” He pulls a needle from his coat, and before I can react, he plunges it into my chest, injecting something straight into my heart.

Pain explodes inside me, my heart constricting violently. It feels like a thousand stings, burning through my veins, searing every nerve with white-hot agony. I convulse, every muscle seizing as the liquid courses through my body, and then—nothing. The pain evaporates, replaced by a cold, crushing emptiness. The world around me fades; the sounds of battle receding until there is only silence, vast and absolute.

Darkness swallows me whole, and for a moment, there is nothing but stillness. This must be death.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Ifinally emerge from yet another twisted alley, my lungs burning and my heart hammering. Ahead of me, I see Paulie’s car parked under the dim streetlights, his outline behind the steering wheel eerily still. I sprint toward it, my footsteps echoing off the narrow, ancient walls. “Paulie?” I shout, banging on the driver’s side window, but he doesn’t move. He sits slumped, staring blankly ahead, and a sick feeling churns in my stomach. I pound on the window harder, desperation clawing at me. Still, nothing.

My breath catches in my throat as I reach for the door handle, dread tightening around my heart. Paulie survived being shot in the neck; he’s tougher than most. I send up a silent, frantic prayer:Please, let him be alive. Please.

I pull the door open, my hands trembling. “Paulie?” I whisper, but my voice cracks, barely audible. My mouth has gone dry, and my chest compresses as though all the air has been sucked out of the world. I touch his shoulder gently, but he doesn’t respond. I nudge him harder, and to my horror, his head lolls forward, then rolls off completely, landing with a sickening thud in the passenger side footwell.

A silent scream tears at my throat, but no sound comes out. Myvision blurs as I stumble back, my body slamming into the cold stone wall behind me. I can’t process what I’m seeing. Paulie’s headless body slumped against the seat, blood pooling beneath him—it’s unreal, impossible, a nightmare that I can’t wake from. I want to look away, but my eyes are locked on the grotesque sight.

The sudden crack of gunfire shatters the silence, followed by a scream that rips through the air. It jolts me out of my shock, and I turn toward the Duomo. The hope I’ve clung to this entire time—hope that somehow, someway, I could stop this—is dashed. There’s no question now: Luigi knows Renzo and his brothers are vampires, and he’s brought someone here to kill them.

I race up the steps to the Duomo, shoving the heavy wooden doors open. Chaos erupts around me as I burst inside. The echo of gunshots, the clash of metal, and the shouts of battle fill the ancient cathedral, reverberating off the frescoed walls. My eyes dart around wildly, searching for Renzo. Nico and Leonardo are fighting a swarm of men, no—vampires—slashing and dodging as they move. Nico swings a sword with lethal precision, beheading his opponent in one fluid motion. Leonardo charges toward the altar, bullets ricocheting off his body like he’s made of steel, undeterred.

And then I see him. Renzo. He’s lying on the floor by the altar, sprawled out, his arms and legs splayed as though he’s been thrown. My heart lurches with relief—he’s alive. But then, as I take a step forward, a bullet whizzes past my head, forcing me to dive to the side, my back pressed against the cold, ancient stone of the church. I have to get to him. I stay low, hugging the wall as I make my way forward, the occasional bullet cracking the plaster above me and sending shards of debris raining down.

I spot Luca lying motionless nearby. My heart sinks, but I force myself to look closer—his head is still attached. He’s not dead, not yet. Leonardo crouches over him, doing something to his chest, and Luca’s body convulses violently, his back arching as if in agony. A strangled sound escapes his lips, raw and tortured.

I inch closer, creeping through the shadows, using the pews as cover. As I near the altar, I see Renzo again. He’s still on the ground,and for a split second, hope flares in my chest. But then his torso jerks upward, contorting in an unnatural arch, his face twisted in pain. It’s like he’s being pulled by some invisible force, a puppet on unseen strings. He collapses back to the floor, lifeless and limp, and my heart shatters.

I move to step out from behind the side wall when I spot him—a large, bald vampire, his presence commanding and menacing. He strides toward the altar with deadly intent. Nico is still locked in combat with two other vampires at the back of the church, his fangs bared as he fights, but he’s too far away to help.

Luca’s body jerks again, mirroring Renzo’s tortured movements, before slumping back down. And then Renzo sits up and blinks hard before staggering to his knees, shaking his head slowly as if to clear his mind. He’s alive and my heart rejoices. Renzo lumbers to his feet, his arm extended toward Luca.

But movement near the altar draws my attention. I stare, horrified and helpless, as a bald vampire reaches the altar. He leaps up onto the stone surface, towering over Renzo’s weakened form. In one fluid motion, he pulls out a gleaming sword, its blade catching the dim light, reflecting the scenes of saints and demons painted on the walls.

Terror floods my veins as I realize what’s about to happen. I’m too far away, too slow, too late. And all I can do is watch as the nightmare unfolds.

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Iopen my eyes and see my father hovering over me, his face a mixture of relief and urgency. My body feels light, whole again, the weakness and pain washed away. I pull myself up, the sudden rush of strength almost disorienting. “What the hell did you give me?” I demand, my voice rasping.

“Later,” my father snaps, urgency in his tone. “Your brother needs help.”

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