Page 80 of Her Dark Salvation

And what about Tony Moretti? Luca’s father. Marco’s best friend. Was hetheAntonio Moretti? Had Luca’s father and Marco worked together for Big Frankie Valenzano as far back as the 1950s?

My head spun with wild theories and connections, the puzzle pieces fitting together too seamlessly to dismiss. But I shoved them away, unwilling to accept any explanation, however convenient, that involved vampires.

Carmine’s wife sat to my right and, halfway through the main course, started regaling me with stories about her kids. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, which was perfectly fine with me. I was grateful for the mundane; it helped take my mind off the supernatural.

By the end of the meal, I’d finished another glass of champagne and was solidly buzzed, bordering on drunk. Gina gave a speech about the importance of immigrant services and our government’s duty to protect their chance at a new life. Guests sipped their espressos, ate cannoli, and nodded in agreement. She finished, and the mayor thanked her and Marco for their service to the city.

The ballroom started to clear. Marco was talking to Mayor Kelson, so I quietly excused myself from the table and followed the first wave of guests into the lobby, my limbs liquid and mind numb from the bubbles.

No destination, no direction, no resolution, I drifted past the front desk and realized the source of my numbness wasn’t the champagne. It was shock.

No matter how much I didn’t want to believe in the supernatural, my analytical brain, trained for over twenty-five years in academia, couldn’t ignore the preponderance of evidence, even if it was circumstantial.

So, I sat at my desk on the penthouse floor and waited for the man who could give me definitive proof, wondering what I’d do if he gave it to me.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. I stood and stepped out from behind the desk.

“Anna.” Marco walked off the elevator with open arms, worried confusion creasing his brow. “I couldn’t find you. Siobhán said she saw you get on the elevator.”

My heart raced, driving my breath. Sweat beaded my forehead and pooled beneath my arms. I wiped my clammy hands down the sides of my dress and clasped them in front of me to stop them from shaking. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Anna,” he said with more urgency, his voice firm and unyielding as he moved toward me. “What’s wrong?”

The familiar scent of cigar smoke and aftershave had a soothing effect, enough for me to blurt out the question hammering my lungs for escape.

“Are you a vampire?” The question tore through the foyer like a cannonball.

He tilted his head, regarding me as if I were a curious specimen. “No. Of course not,” he said in a tone indicating how ridiculous he found the idea. “Vampires aren’t real.”

My body relaxed, and I closed my eyes.

See, Anna? Vampires aren’t real. What a ridiculous idea.There was a rational explanation after all. Of course there was. I nodded my head, agreeing with myself, and let out a long, tremulous exhale. Then, I opened my eyes.

Flecks of red interrupted the solid field of Marco’s obsidian gaze. They danced around his pupils, expanding and spreading in swirling eddies of color until the entirety of his irises blazed like fire.

My hand flew to where my necklace should have been, and I gasped for air. I stumbled back, arm outstretched, searching for something to hold on to as the world I understood crumbled around me.

No necklace. Nothing to hold. No one else but a man with glowing red eyes.

Panic overtook rational control, and my primal instincts fueled a mad rush for the elevator. But Marco stood between me and my escape. He grabbed my wrist, pulled me into his arms, and held me tight against his hard, unyielding body.

My legs and shoulders shook uncontrollably, but through the darkness clouding my vision, the blazing inferno of his eyes held me in place.

“What—What are you?” I asked in a stunned whisper.

“I’m a blood demon.” Marco’s answer was low, gravelly, and filled with remorse, his crimson eyes a window into worry and pain.

I lifted my hand and tried to brush away their demonic glow, but blackness ate at the remaining smears of light until there was nothing left. I tumbled out of consciousness and into the blood demon’s waiting arms.

ChapterTwenty-Two

Anna

The pillow’s satiny finish was cool against my cheek. I extended my arms overhead, pointed my toes beneath the linen sheets, and pressed my legs into the soft feather bed for a full body stretch.

This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in.

Awareness doused my sleepy mind like a bucket of ice water, and my eyes snapped open. I pushed the comforter down, propped myself up onto my elbows, and brushed the hair out of my face. A wide sleeve slid down my arm. I fingered the white fabric crossing my heart. A robe, cinched at the waist, the weave of the cotton so fine it caressed my skin like silk.

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