Page 87 of Fratelli: Eternal Bloodlines

“That’s not possible. Is it?” Domenico frowned.

“It doesn’t matter now. We need to get Lucio back to Rome. My people think… well, we were there and the graveyard dirt, the crypts from the feral, the dirt and bones in the crypts helped father. He sleeps in the coffin now, he has felt better. Maybe it can heal him, too. Help Lucio heal in the Vatican.”

“But what about the Guardians? The Sisters? The damn curse? We have solved nothing!” Domenico protested.

“Lucio made his choice, and now we face the consequences,” mumbled Sebastiano.

“If Lucio dies, if father dies, then… what?” Domenico asked.

“I don’t know,” Marcello admitted. “I don’t know why he can’t heal. I don’t have the answers!”

The door opened. Phoenix and Raven entered.

“Leave us,” Sebastiano commanded.

Raven hesitated, but Phoenix kept with his approach, eyes shifting from the coffin to Marcello.

“Things got out of hand,” Marcello confessed. “We sentenced him to true death.”

Phoenix’s brow arched in question.

“He’s not dead,” Domenico muttered. He looked weepy, and the brothers weren’t sure why. Domencio had waited and plotted for this day. He retreated to a chair and dropped on it.

“He’s not healing, either. I’ve tried grave dirt, but nothing has changed. Before we finished him, Father spoke. Not Father—his Draca. It stopped us.”

Phoenix nodded respectfully. “We need to take him to Rome.”

“Rome?” Sebastiano echoed.

“You are brothers, bound as four. What you’ve done has torn the fabric of the Fratelli. You’ve violated your covenant with each other. That rip has weakened you all.”

“Bullshit! He’s not dead! We didn’t kill him!” Domenico insisted, and his voice was clogged with emotion. “Lucio can’t die. That’s the gag. No matter what, he is the one, the special one. He betrayed father! Had that woman for possibly months before telling us, lied to us, when he could have saved Father? He is no fallen hero. He’s not dead!”

“You’re all undead. Death claimed each of you at thirty. What you’ve done is far worse. You’ve sentenced him to a true death. Lucio understood the stakes. He remained devout. Where were you, Domenico, while he sought a cure for your father? Hundreds of young daughters of Julia Brown fed to you. Did any of you join the hunt? Aid him in any way? And you, Sebastiano?”

“Watch your fucking mouth, Consiglieri. We don’t answer to you,” Domenico snarled.

Phoenix bowed his head again. “I speak the truth only out of concern.”

Marcello paced. “Phoenix’s right. We don’t even know the extent of our actions.”

“We know the prophecy. Our brother cannot heal because his Draca is dying. And that is possibly what Draquria wants. To take Lucio and then the prophecy is fulfilled…” Sebastiano’s voice faltered.

Phoenix's gaze slipped over to him and then to Marcello. He didn’t offer any further counsel to either. He focused on Domencio with keen interest.

“The rebirth,” Domenico whispered. “It could be Lucio, but if he dies, then it’s me.”

“Lucio will not die!” hissed Marcello.

“He’s half-dead already,” Domencio said.

“It was always a possibility,” Sebastiano acknowledged grimly.

“We need to stop it. Where are the women?” Marcello asked.

“We have one guardian at the Bellagio. The others are with the First People in the desert,” Phoenix replied.

“We divide and conquer. Sebastiano and I will take Lucio to Rome. Phoenix, you and Domenico retrieve the women. Kill the guardians and bring the sisters. Where the fuck is Shakespeare?”

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