Page 24 of Her Dark Salvation

If demand was up, supply had to follow. Desperation led to attacks in the night, dark alleys, and shadowed corners. Most of the time, anyone claiming to have been attacked by a “vampire” was dismissed as crazy, but that didn’t mean victims couldn’t claim assault. And if too many vampire accusations started flying around, no matter how unhinged, we’d have a real problem—unwanted attention. Federal unwanted attention.

“Not yet. We’ve recruited new soldati demoni del sangue to handle the increase in volume, and so far, we’ve kept up. But I’m pushing the boundaries of how much I can grow that crew, Marco. You and I both know there’s a reason my father agreed to let you out.”

Vinnie leveled me with a heavy look equal to the weight of his words, but he didn’t need to remind me of Big Frankie’s motivations. Every favor granted in Cosa Nostra came with a price.

The mixed bag of humans and blood demons that was the Boston Mafia back when me and Tony joined had been a risky business. Not all humans were as accepting as Big Frankie. Enforcing omertà when a soldier’s world was rocked by learning the supernatural existed was no easy task. Especially given the feds were breathing down our necks and hoping to put the screws to a rat.

Big Frankie had been well aware of his mortality, and that his blood demon son would soon become Don. The Mafia garnered enough attention without the added bonus of potential vampire accusations. He’d decided separating the ranks would deflect any unnecessary scrutiny while keeping Boston under Valenzano control. But he also wasn’t about to give up one of his most lucrative rackets.

So, we struck a deal. He let me out, and I took the blood demon capi and soldati with me. The Valenzano demoni del sangue were limited to Vinnie and the capo and crew responsible for the Source racket. The rest of the Boston outfit was human and kept in the dark about the true nature of their boss.

“What’s the problem, then?” I asked. “Sounds like you’re meeting demand. And probably earning a shitload in the process.”

“Like I said, times are changing. If we can’t keep up with expectations, won’t matter if we have enough Sources.”

Suspicion hardened into a sinking rock in my gut.

“The fronts in Revere and Saugus do steady business, but not all our clients, or Sources for that matter, want to be seen at a strip club. Others feel uncomfortable bringing a Source into their home since many of them are doing it for the money, not the kink. Options in the city are limited outside the North End.”

The sinking rock bottomed out, and I stiffened, realizing why Vinnie’d come to Terme.

He quirked a smarmy smile. “Some of the new Sources signed up thinking they could charge more for high-end experiences. Thing is, I don’t wanna stop ’em. Clients are willing, and it’s a bigger tax.” He shrugged. “There’s more money to be made in this racket than ever before. If I can find the right venue.”

I ground my teeth and picked up the letter opener, needing something to squeeze beside Vinnie’s neck.

“An upscale venue where refined clients and Sources can conduct business. A venue friendly to demoni del sangue where both parties feel comfortable and safe?—”

Two knocks came at my door before I had a chance to unleash my own interruption.

“Yes,” I barked.

Anna slipped into the room carrying a small, insulated cup. She tentatively stepped to where Vinnie sat, relaxed and waiting to be served. She held out the cup, and it trembled in her fingers.

“Grazie, sweetheart.” He looked her up and down, and I loathed him in that moment. “You ever get sick of working for this wiseguy, you gimme a call, capisce? I could use more Italian women like you on my staff.” He flashed his wolfish smile and winked.

Anna wrung her hands, and her face paled like she was going to be sick. Not that Vinnie noticed. He was too busy feeling her up with his eyes. I strangled the letter opener.

Anna nodded. “Excuse me,” she said softly and turned to leave.

Vinnie tracked her backside as she hurried out of my office. “She’d make a great Source,” he said as an afterthought. The door closed and he turned back to me, brow raised as he sipped his espresso. “Healthy. Italian. She’d be a top earner with that ass and those tits?—”

I stabbed the letter opener into the blotter. It cut through the leather and wedged itself deep in the hardwood. My breath came fast and heavy, and the heat in my blood threatened to turn my eyes.

“Cosa?” Vinnie exclaimed and opened his arms. “She your goomar or something?”

“She’s my assistant,” I snarled, “which means she’s part of my crew and off limits.” The thought of my connections corrupting Anna’s safe, mundane world made me want to commit acts of violence. “Get to the point, Vinnie.”

He eyed me suspiciously, mouth twisted in an unhappy sneer. “My point is, if I had a venue like Terme di Boston?—”

“You could charge more,” I interrupted, my temper overtaking my patience. “And you’d have a reputable business through which you could launder your profits.”

The constancy of his stare and the twitch of his upper lip were his only answer.

“In other words,” I continued, my words clipped with malice. “You want to turn Terme into a brothel and me into a pimp.”

Vinnie scoffed and looked away. “Don’t be crass.”

“Well, that’s what you’re asking for, isn’t it?”

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