Page 107 of Fratelli: Eternal Bloodlines

The words fell like a death knell. The cultists looked at one another, their illusions shattered. Macy Lynn took a step back. The horror and confusion was palpable on her face.

Dolly stepped forward, her golden presence luminous and otherworldly. “You have stolen, killed, and manipulated in the name of a false purpose. The First People were not gods—they were your ancestors. You’ve dishonored them. Just like Julia Brown when she took her dark oath over the universe’s love.”

Darlene, a living shadow made of darkness, stepped beside her sister and lifted her hand. The darkness around Darlene spread to Greenlee. It thickened and slithered across the ground like a living thing. Greenlee was lifted off her feet, her bodycontorting with each sickening crunch of bone. The warriors screamed, so many went to their knees and pleaded for salvation for their leader. Charmaine looked on in horror. As a guardian and the protector of light, she itched to save Greenlee, but the sisters were in control. The crowd wept as the matriarch’s form became twisted, crushed into a ball of energy, then ripped apart with a final, agonized wail.

A stunned silence followed. Dolly and Darlene left the cult members paralyzed and powerless. The First People’s cult was no more—its remnants broken, scattered. And now they were all doomed to flee or face more wrath.

Sonya,Tristan, and Shakespeare tore through the desert in Tristan’s Bugatti. The engine roared as they sped toward the fortified camp. Dust billowed behind them, caught in the rays of the rising sun.

“Slow down!” Sonya warned. She gripped the seat as the fortress loomed ahead.

“We have to get inside!” Tristan yelled; eyes fixed on the distant walls. His heart locked in with Charmaine. Her distress was now his. He could feel her emotional torment. He’d kill all of them and anyone who dared to harm her.

“The sun’s coming up, damn it! Slow down!” Sonya shouted again. Less than a mile away from the doors to the fort, Tristan yanked the wheel hard. The car spun into a wild U-turn, kicking up a massive cloud of dust that swallowed the vehicle whole. Sonya lurched forward in her seat. Before she could speak, Shakespeare glanced back, his eyes full of concern. She waved him off and caught her breath.

“Shit!” Tristan cursed and slammed the wheel with his fist. “We’re too late. We can’t get in now!”

“Quiet,” Shakespeare murmured. He stared ahead.

Tristan glanced at him and frowned. “What?”

Sonya closed her eyes. She focused her energy. The surrounding air hummed with untapped power. When she opened them, there was a new clarity in her gaze. “The twins,” she whispered. “They’re separate now. Charmaine said they were changed. We are too late. We need to be ready. They’re coming. They know you are here, and they want you to take them to Rome.”

“The Vatican?” Tristan asked, confused.

“Lucio,” Sonya replied, her voice steady. “They know where he is. They know what’s happening to him. They want him. They have claimed him as theirs.”

“Want him? Want him?” Tristan repeated.

Before Tristan could react further, the gates to the fortress creaked open, pushed by the women of the cult. The two vampires and the guardian of the darkness watched as a tanker truck rolled out slowly. It was flanked by nearly a hundred dazed women dressed in fatigues. They walked at the sides of the tanker truck as if escorting their leader.

“This is their army?” Shakespeare muttered.

“I need to join Darlene. She’s calling for me,” Sonya said, wincing from the pain in her head over the guardians’ command. She pulled off the cloak around her shoulders. The one Phoenix had draped over her. She tossed it up front to Shakespeare. “Cover yourself. I’m not sure my blood will protect you from the sun. I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

“No. Don’t go. This doesn’t feel right. This is… wrong? We’ll get you out of here,” Shakespeare urged his voice tight. He glanced at Tristan, who was fixated on the tanker. Shakespeareknew Tristan would not leave Charmaine behind. Neither of them could break their bonds.

Sonya shook her head. “I have to. Dolly trusts you, Tristan, to take us to Lucio. Let’s not upset the sisters. We don’t know what happened to them in that camp. I’ll follow you with Darlene and protect her. Charmaine will protect Dolly. We must figure this out with them, not against them. Understand? Now let me out! She has commanded it!”

“For now, we will let her command you,” Shakespeare mumbled. His hand clenched around the cloak as he opened the door and slipped into the sunlight. He flinched but withstood the heat, his eyes locked with Sonya’s, his entire body smoking, even though covered. “I love you.”

Sonya’s breath hitched, but she smiled. “I know. I’m with you.”

“Do you love me?” he pleaded.

“I can’t name it. Not now. If this is love let me prove it, not say it,” Sonya touched his cheek. Shakespeare’s eyes drifted shut and he sighed.

“My goddess,” he breathed.

“Goodbye,” she said.

Charmaine exited the tanker, and her eyes lit up at the sight of Tristan behind the wheel. They shared a brief smile before Sonya ran to embrace her friend, her sister, their tears mixed with the dust of the desert as they held each other tight. The cult women were on their knees with their heads bowed. The other women came to the front gates with their small children and stood transfixed.

Shakespeare retreated into the car. The guardians stopped embracing, and both looked to the consiglieri. They gave a last smile and turned away. Tristan gripped the steering wheel and a low growl to resist the temptation to risk the sun to go after theirmates escaped both men. The guardians entered the tanker, and their psychic connection was severed.

The consiglieri sat in silence; sworn enemies now bound by a common cause.

“How did we get here?” Tristan muttered. “I should’ve been with Lucio, protecting him.”

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