Page 74 of Their Reckless Thief
The Shadow’s silence was unsettling, even for me. We walked deeper into the woods, the underbrush crunching softly beneath our boots.
Finally, he stopped, turning to face me. His eyes glinted with cold resolve. “I need you to spend the rest of the day visiting the bordering territories. Speak to the lowest scum you can find. Threaten them, torture them—whatever the fuck it takes. I want answers to what we’re dealing with and how we can heal the women. I don’t care how you get them.”
I frowned, clenching my fists at my sides. “Do you really think they’ll have any useful information? Most of them don’t even?—”
He gripped my shoulder in a vise-like hold. “Do not question me, Luca.”
The venom in his voice made my jaw snap shut. His expression was a storm of fury, and for a moment, I felt the full weight of why so many feared him.
“My scientists are failing,” he hissed. “Our people are dying, and we’re no closer to finding a cure. So, unless you’ve suddenly become a fucking genius in blood alchemy, you’ll do as I say and figure out another way. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded stiffly. “Crystal.”
He released me, his breathing heavy.
I took a step back, the tension in my chest tightening, but I forced myself to keep my voice steady. “I’ll handle it.”
“Good.” He turned and began walking again, his steps deliberate.
I pivoted and walked in the opposite direction, resisting the urge to veilstep. I needed the time to clear my head, to sort through the rising tide of frustration clawing at my insides.
The Shadow had saved me once, given me purpose when I’d been cast out, unwanted, and alone. He’d offered me a chance to build a life when no one else would. I owed him everything—my loyalty, my service, my life. Sometimes, though, I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until he shut the fuck up.
He had no idea how much more I could offer if he stopped treating me like a blunt instrument. My shadows, my intelligence, my ability to read people—I could be his greatest weapon. But no, my tasks were always menial, like threatening street rats for scraps of information.
As the forest thinned and the estate came into view, I exhaled deeply, trying to shake off my irritation. The quicker I fulfilled his demands, the quicker I could get back to Vincenzo’s territory and check on the situation with Celeste.
Celeste.
Her name flickered in my mind like a spark, igniting something I didn’t want to acknowledge. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her laugh, her fire, the way she looked at me like I wasn’t a monster. It was a distraction I couldn’t afford—but gods help me, I didn’t want it to go away.
22
CELESTE
Five missed calls from Roberto.
I stared at my phone as the screen lit up with his name yet again. My pulse quickened, my nerves on edge. Roberto never called more than once unless it was serious… unless he knew something. I was avoiding him so I could get my story straight and craft the perfect lie. The truth was too dangerous, too messy. And I couldn’t afford to let anything slip, not around him. He’d pick up on any crack in my aura, any sign of weakness. He always did.
I sighed, running a shaky hand through my hair before I finally answered.
“Roberto,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
There was a pause on the other end. It stretched on too long, too tense, then his voice came through, smooth, controlled, chilling. “Celeste.”
Just hearing him say my name gave me a chill. Roberto never raised his voice. He didn’t have to. That cold calmness was worse than any yelling.
“I’ve been calling,” he said, and even though his tone stayed level, I could hear the underlying irritation. The disappointment.
“I know. I?—”
“I require your presence at my office. Now.”
There was no arguing with that. His voice left no room for questions or excuses. The icy grip of fear twisted in my stomach. “Of course. I’ll be there soon.”
He hung up before I could say anything else.
My heart threatened to tear out of my chest. Roberto knew something. He had to. Why else would he be so persistent? My palms were damp with sweat as I tossed the phone onto the bed. Anxiety crept into every crevice of my body, squeezing my lungs, tightening my throat.
