Page 126 of His Dark Vendetta

An old boom box was perched on top of a metal ladder. Plastic sheeting covered the floor and was meticulously secured in place with blue painter’s tape. The windows were thrown open, their frames taped like wrapped presents, and natural light shone in without any curtains or blinds to stop it. The soft yellow paint gleamed as fresh and bright as rays of sunshine in what had always felt like such a dark world.

“Do you like the color?” he asked, eager and hopeful. “I know we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, but I looked online, and every baby website said yellow and green work for both.”

My throat constricted, and tears welled. He was building a nursery. For our baby.

“Kinda perfect timing,” he said. “I just finished the second coat.”

I couldn’t tell if the ache in my chest was my heart exploding with love or shattering because I was about to break his. A tear escaped, and I swallowed back the sob attempting to break free.

“Hey, don’t cry.” He brushed the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “We can always change the color,” he said with a crooked smile. “I know it’s premature, but I wanted to show you how much having a family means to me and that if you decide to keep the baby, I’ll make a home for us.”

“No, it’s—” I shook my head. “I love the color.” I couldn’t bring myself to say what needed to be said.

“Good.” He took my hand—“I want to show you something”—and led me to the closet where a glass of water and a picture frame sat on a small utility table. He picked up the frame. “These are my parents.” Luca said the words with purposeful strength. As though he’d uncovered something deeply buried and wanted to share it with the world.

The polaroid inside the frame was old and discolored, but the grainy image couldn’t hide the joy in the faces of the two people it captured. An older version of Luca looked down at a woman who smiled into the camera. The love in his eyes reached across the years and grabbed my heart. Luca was there in the woman’s face as well—lips as full as his, the same pouty shape and rosy color, and matching chocolate-brown hair.

“This is my mother Lucia and my father Antonio—Tony. They didn’t get to live here together, but that’s what they wanted for a time. To be a family. To build a family in this house.” He looked at me. “This room was supposed to be a surprise.”

I traced my finger over the glass, over the parents he’d lost, the family he so desperately wanted but had been taken from him when he was a child. And there I was, about to take that from him again. Take myself and our child away from him, because I was too scared to stay and fight for my safety. Because I was too scared to admit that I wasn’t really safe anywhere.

Worse, I was about to create the same situation Luca and I had endured as children. If I took our child away from Luca so I could have my false sense of security, I’d be no better than my own parents. I’d just be creating a different brand of our fucked-up childhoods. Was I strong enough to break the cycle?

Luca set the picture on the table and rubbed the back of his neck. “Kinda doing things all backward, huh?”

I let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s kind of our MO.”

He took my hands. “Do you like it?”

“It’s lovely, Luca.”

He examined my face, and the smile left his lips. “But…”

“But I’m scared,” I said. He pressed his lips together and worry replaced the hope in his eyes. “Not of you. Not of the whole blood demon thing.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe I just said that, but it’s true. Anna explained a lot last night, and even though I have questions, I understand, and I’m not scared. But what happened yesterday… That’s what I was talking about when I said I’m not safe in this world. And it’s not just about me anymore. I have to think of our baby. I want to move back to Ireland.”

He stiffened and squeezed my hands. “I’ll protect us. I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep us safe.”

“You say that now, but who knows what could happen? Someone has Gina right now.”

“And we’re going to get her back,” he said with steely resolve, eyes sparking. “Not to mention, you need me, Siobhán. You need my blood and my venom.”

“I know. Dr. Levine explained that part to me. Paulie took me to see him this morning before I came here.”

“What? Why didn’t you call me? I would have gone with you. What did he say? Is the baby okay? Are you okay?”

“Luca.” I placed a hand on his chest and smiled. “I’m fine. We’re both healthy. He said the baby’s heartbeat is strong and everything looks totally normal.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he shuttered his eyes. “Grazie a Dio.”

“But he also said I could use a—a Source for blood and venom if I needed to. He said he’d connect me with a doctor in London who works with blood demons and—and that’s a quick flight from Cork. He’ll help me find a Source to get me through this pregnancy.”

Luca’s eyes flared red. He curled his top lip, and his fangs elongated to vicious points. “Absolutely not!”

“You don’t run my life, Luca Moretti,” I snapped, my own temper kicking in. “If I want to move back to Ireland, you better believe that’s what I’m going to do.”

“I’m not talking about moving to Ireland,” he growled. “I’m talking about you drinking from another blood demon. I’m talking about letting another man feed from you. Absolutely. Fucking. Not.” He grabbed my shoulders. “You are mine, Siobhán Connelly. Do you hear me? If you want to move to Ireland, I’ll buy a fucking Celtics hat and move with you, but after all the shit we’ve been through, there’s no fucking way I’m letting you go.”

My breath caught, and if I hadn’t known it was impossible, I’d have sworn my heart stopped beating. “You’d leave Boston?”

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