Page 134 of Fratelli: Eternal Bloodlines

The Fall of the Fratelli

Vatican - Vatican City, Rome

April 21, 2018

(Day of Death)

In the deepestrecesses of the realm, a soul waited. Impatient. Distraught. Lost. Desperate for escape. It paced the long, empty stretch between oblivion and restoration, yearning for freedom. The only light, faint and distant, came from the memory of Dolly and Darlene. The ladies were his flame of hope in the dark.

Lucio paused. Time had no meaning in his prison. Purpose had slipped away. All he had left were the echoes of what he’d lost—who he once was.

When Don Vittorio raised his sons, he’d spoken of the Fratelli—the ancient Order and their blood oath to the Draca. At first, the boys found his dark tales to be confusing stories meant to frighten him and his brothers, but as they grew older, the stories filled them all with dread. The age of sacrifice loomed, and Lucio remembered that day all too well—the day when the Draca cast aside his soul and took control.

There was pleasure in the darkness, yes. But there was also an endless, gnawing loneliness. Pain that never let go. He and his brothers had tried to hold on to their bond as twins, but how could they? The bond tore them apart. It severed their unity. There was no return to the sanctity of their mother’s womb.

That was why he had warned Dolly and Darlene—begged them to fight to remain one. Because in the darkness, alone, there was no humanity.

A low growl broke the silence behind him. It pulled Lucio from his wandering. Lucio cast his gaze over his shoulder. He knew what lurked between the heavens and the bowels of hell—creatures like him, trapped in the purgatory of their immortal existence, paying a cost few understood. Lucio had lived with it for centuries.

UntilHer.

LUCIO.The voice of the Draca slithered through his mind, an ancient language only understood in the prison of his thoughts.DRAQURIA COMES FOR YOU.

Lucio turned fully now. Out of the shadows, his Draca emerged. It looked sick, scorched from a battle Lucio hadn’t seen, wounded in ways he couldn’t fathom. The creature staggered forward, then collapsed before him.

He had hated this beast for decades—the source of his blood thirst, the reason he had hunted and killed Julia Brown’s descendants. But through Dolly and Darlene, he had learned to accept the curse, and with it, the Draca.

Now, the creature looked up at him with mournful eyes, filled with a sadness that pierced even Lucio’s hardened heart.What was the price for a creature’s penance if its only sin was living by its monstrous nature?

Lucio stepped forward, resting a hand on the Draca’s scorched brow. It exhaled a weak puff of dark smoke andclosed its eyes in submission. They had lived, hunted, and bled together. So, what had changed?

Then he heard it.

A roar. Distant but growing closer. Menacing.

HE COMES FOR YOU. THE SUPREME.

Lucio understood. His father was dead. Dolly was lost to him. And now, the Supreme Draca, whom Phoenix had told Lucio, and his brothers was crowned in the ancient real and given the name Draquria, would claim him. The darkness was on the hunt. And there would be no escape.

Tristan could feel the pull—thethreat radiated from Marcello and Sebastiano, both ready to tear into Dolly. Lucio would never forgive him if he let the brothers attack without defending her. He glanced at Charmaine. One look from her and he felt braver. The brothers were the present danger, and they both understood the risk. Together, theFratelliwere an unstoppable force, but Charmaine—the resurrected Guardian—was no ordinary opponent. Her clenched fists shimmered. Ancient power coursed through her veins. She was prepared for war.

Before anyone could make a move, a dark blast hit the ground like a bomb. It sent a shockwave through the air that divided the battlefield. Tristan barely had time to shield his face from the searing energy. The ground trembled, splitting the Vatican courtyard in two. It forced the brothers back from Dolly and her protectors.

Phoenix had arrived.

Dressed in the regal, ancient garb of the Roman Senate, he rose from the crater he’d created his presence an overwhelmingwave of authority. His gaze locked first on Marcello, then slid to Sebastiano.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Marcello roared. His voice was full of fury.

Sebastiano, usually composed, faltered, confusion flashed across his face.

“Killing your father,” Tristan said, his voice hard.

Phoenix’s eyes shifted to Tristan, cool and emotionless. He had trained the vampire, and molded him for years. Tristan knew the Magistrate’s power rivaled the brothers. Even now, after his betrayal, the unyielding discipline of a priest still held Tristan back from breaking ranks completely.

Marcello’s jaw clenched. He spoke in rapid Sicilian, with eyes narrowing. “Cosa dice?He killed our father?”

“Answer him!” Sebastiano demanded; his voice edged with panic.

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