Page 110 of Fratelli: Eternal Bloodlines

Marcello’s gaze darkened. “You really believe this is them?”

Sebastiano gestured to Lucio’s coffin, a sharp edge to his voice. “Look at him, Marcello! We didn’t do this. Something has taken him, something bigger than us, bigger than our father. The Chosen will come for us. They want war. We need to give them what they wish. Be ready for it.”

Marcello’s jaw clenched as he glanced toward Lucio’s coffin. “I don’t think this is them. Not entirely.”

Sebastiano’s laugh was bitter, almost mocking. “What proof do you need? Lucio’s gone, Marcello. Whatever’s coming, it’s already here.”

The heavy iron door creaked open, and Domencio entered, led by a monk carrying a flaming torch. His expression was grim, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Marcello turned, and hope disappeared from his eyes.

“Where is Phoenix?” Marcello asked.

Domencio didn’t meet his gaze immediately. “I left him and Raven in Vegas. I came here, but had to wait out the morning sun. I tried reaching both of you... but nothing.” His voice trailedoff as he looked toward Lucio’s coffin. Even with the lid closed, he could feel his brother’s presence, or what was left of it. Seeing him like this, trapped, untouched by life or death, left Domencio feeling hollow.

Shame clouded his features as he lowered his head. “I was wrong,” he admitted, his voice low and raw. “For years, I blamed him. I hated him because Papa favored him. Because he was born first,chosenfirst. I was jealous. I let that eat me alive, and he begged me to be a brother, to be like you two.” His gaze lingered on the coffin. Memories flooded back. “I was just a scared kid in that crypt with the ferals. He could’ve let me die... but he saved me. I see that now.”

Sebastiano sneered from his seat, his voice dripping with disdain. “Well, good for you, Domencio. Too fucking late. You tortured Lucio. Fucked with his head. Let him hunt the Brown women and then let him suffer with guilt alone. Look at what you and Shakespeare have done with the wolves. You stupid fuck. We warned you.”

“Shut up, Sebastiano.” Marcello moved toward Domencio, his expression hardening. “He’s not gone, Domencio. You two are the same—blood of the same blood.Reach him.”

“I can’t,” Domencio muttered. He shook his head solemn.

“Try,” Marcello urged. “Please.”

“Ican’t!” Domencio’s roar reverberated through the chamber. His eyes brimmed with blood tears, that then streaked down his cheeks. “Do you think I haven’t tried? He’s gone, Marcello! I was supposed to be with Papa, but I came for him. For Lucio! I’ve never been without him, and now... he’s not there. There’s nothing left to reach.”

Marcello’s heart sank. “Wait... why were you supposed to be with Papa?”

Domencio hesitated. “Phoenix... he said I should go to Sicilia. Tend to Papa. He and Raven were handling the Guardians. Bringing them to you.”

Marcello’s brow furrowed. “Phoenix was supposed tokillthe Guardians. Maybe we got our signals crossed.”

Sebastiano slammed his goblet down, the blood splattering across the crypt walls. “It’s thosewitches,” he hissed. “They’ve undone everything. We’re running on fumes here. We should be out in the sun or the night and ready for the hunt.” His large Tibetan dogs gave low growls like lions.

Sebastiano, always the most volatile, unraveled. He hated the sun, but to hear him now he rather burn in it than waste another moment not seeking revenge. Marcello could see it in the way his eyes flickered between rage and helplessness. He had always leaned on Lucio, on their bond, and now, without him, he was adrift. The truth was, they all were. Lucio was the only one of the three that still had a heart. Though none of the brothers admitted it. He was the soul of their Fratelli. Without him, they would not survive as brothers.

Marcello stepped closer to Domencio. “Go to Sicilia. Be with Papa. We’ll figure this out and bring Lucio to you both. We’ll defend our father and our brother together. To the end.”

Domencio glanced at Lucio’s coffin, feeling the weight of his failure. He approached it slowly. He rested a hand on the cold surface, memories of their childhood flashed through his mind. The crypt, the fear, the tears... and the brother who saved him.I was wrong, Lucio. I’m sorry. He sent the message with what little psychic strength he had left, praying that somehow Lucio could hear him.

I’ll do whatever it takes to save you.

Palermo, Sicily

“Welcome to Palermo,” said the concierge, bowing slightly as the group arrived at the hotel.

Charmaine smiled politely, but her eyes were on Tristan as he stepped forward, speaking in rapid Sicilian to secure their rooms. Sonya stood beside her, though her attention kept drifting to Shakespeare. Since their arrival in Italy, there was a tension between them, an unspoken urgency beneath every glance.

Before they boarded the private jet, Tristan had convinced them not to enter Rome directly. The brothers had eyes everywhere, and arriving in Rome would tip their plan in the Draca’s favor. Palermo was safer, quieter, a place to regroup. Charmaine had feared the twins wouldn’t agree, but Tristan had a way with Dolly, a way of cutting through her walls of rage. Darlene, on the other hand, had been unnervingly quiet. Though the glow of energy was gone, both had skin that glisten with vitality. The darker tone of Darlene’s skin was mesmerizing and often caught the sideways glances from those she passed. It worried Charmaine how changed and powerful the sisters were. She had no idea what the First People had done to them.

Don’t worry, Tristan’s voice echoed in her mind.I have a plan for us all.

She glanced at him as he accepted the keys to their rooms, and the desire in his thoughts brushed against her.Not now, she reminded herself, while her body betrayed her.

Shakespeare’s hand slipped into Sonya’s as they headed toward the elevators. The energy that connected them was no longer filled with suffering. His hand, his touch, felt like a union she could never put into words. Sonya allowed the feeling to adjust to fit the moment. The warmth of his touch grounded her. He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles gently. It was a simple gesture, but one filled with everything she had ever craved—love, devotion, something unbreakable between her anda man. She had known many lovers in her mortal life, but none as different and exciting as her consiglieri. While Charmaine tormented herself over the propriety of their now bonds with the consiglieri, she reveled in the rebirth of her essence. She wasn’t street, or damaged. She was a great warrior with a greater purpose. And she had one of the toughest vampires in the game as her mate.

Darlene entered the elevator with the rest of the group, her hand pressed to her brow. The darkness inside her consumed, gnawed at her senses. It wasn’t like before. Before, when she was with Dolly, she felt powerful. Now, she felt... intercepted. Weak.

“Are you alright, sister?” Dolly asked, concern in her eyes.

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