Dante whirled, his movements so fast they were a blur. He reached a hand behind his back. Fed screamed as Dante locked a forearm around her neck.
I didn't even have time to react, I was so taken by surprise. I had been expecting an attack on me, not on Fed. A clicking snap. A flash of light. A sound like a jet.
He had a small blowtorch, the kind used to make creme br?lée, right next to Fed's face. She cried out and tried to squirm away from the heat.
"Dante," I began. Sparks flew up my windpipe, pitting holes in my throat. I spat them off to the side. I needed a drink of water. ”What are you doing?"
He had truly lost his mind. The acid of regret burned my stomach. Why hadn't I gotten her out of here while I had a chance? We should have started running the moment I'd left the pool. The fire had made me arrogant.
Dante looked at me from behind Fed, his mouth, which I had once found so alluring, now cruel and twisted. "I'll start with her hair," he said, his voice little more than a whisper. "And then we'll see what happens to an eye when we flambé it just a little bit."
Fed whimpered and breathed heavily through her nose as she fought panic.
"I'm not going to let that happen, Fed," I said.
How? Saxony, you're in way over your head.
"That's right, you're not," said Dante. "You're going to walk in front of me, into the house. I'll tell you where to go. Move." He moved the flame a fraction closer to Fed's face and she cried out and turned her head away. Her cheek was flushed with red. Beads of sweat had sprung out on her forehead.
I walked toward the door where they stood, my eyes as hot and hard as they'd ever been. My eyes bore into Dante's face as I passed them. Too bad I couldn't shoot lasers from my eyes. What was the whole point of the red glow if it couldn't help me in a situation like this? Just to give me away? What kind of stupid ability was this? Bitter thoughts pounded me as broken glass crunched under my feet. I stepped across the threshold of busted patio doors and into the kitchen.
"To your right, down the hall. Slowly. If I see even a wisp of smoke, Fed's face will never look the same and you'll be the one to blame."
I slowed my steps. I took deep breaths, and my jaw clenched with frustration. "Where are we going?"
I heard he and Fed as they shuffled together after me down the hall. The very air that Fed drew sounded laced with fear.
"If you only trusted me, we could have avoided all of this. Keep moving." He directed me through the house and out into another small courtyard.
Across the courtyard was a much older villa. It looked ancient, in fact. The crumbling grey stone exterior was pitted with holes, the window ledges worn and cracked. Rusty bars with arrowhead tips covered the window openings. The whole building looked haunted.
As we walked across the stone courtyard to the door of the old villa, I noted that the heat inside me had changed. It felt soft and molten, and it oozed rather than flickered. Why? I had the strangest feeling that it knew something I didn't know. My forearms prickled as fear came over me in waves.
Inside, a dozen desks filled a large stone room. Sunlight streamed in through two windows. The place had the feel of an old military office. Each desk had a computer and all the necessities for work. Whatever this place was, it was fully functioning.
My mind skittered for options but I felt too scared to act on any of my ideas, discarding them as quickly as they came up. Should I refuse to move? The propane in the blowtorch would eventually run out - but he wouldn't let that happen before he burned her. Hurl fire at his head? I would risk burning Federica. With my ability to control fire, could I snuff the flame of the blowtorch? I didn’t have enough dexterity. Again, I would risk burning Fed.
"Interesting that you chose a blowtorch for your weapon, Dante." I sounded a lot calmer than I felt. My heart was thudding so loud it almost drowned out my words. "That way you could just blame me for burning your cousin."
"Through the door on the right. Down the stairs."
I put a hand on the metal handle of a short, wide wooden door. It swung open and cool, dank air drifted up. I looked down the dungeon stairs. "You're kidding, right?"
"Do I look like I'm kidding?"
I turned to look at the two faces behind me, reflected in the light of the torch. Fed's face shone with sweat. Dante's face was almost serene.
I took a deep breath. "Can you please just turn that thing off and we can talk like adults?"
"It's too late for that, Saxony. You've had plenty of chances. Quit stalling." He moved the torch closer to Fed's hair and touched the flame to a few strands. She cried out as they crackled and sparked. Smoke wisped up from her head.
"Stop! Stop, I'm going." I began to descend.
Thirty-Three
The first thing I became aware of as we descended was the sound of dripping water. Droplets landed hollowly and echoed off the stone. The gloom was heavy and I fought the urge to light up a hand, just so I could see better. Dante would most certainly hurt Fed if I did.
“Sinistra.”
I turned left. Ironic that the word for ‘left’ sounded so much like the word ‘sinister’. Faint nausea curled in my stomach. The floor turned from stone to earth as we passed under the building. The ceilings were so low I had to tilt my head to the side. We went down an earthen floor hallway and came to three crumbling steps leading even deeper.
"Now what?" I said, my voice filled with acid. A million nasty names and swearwords festered behind my lips. Don't make things worse.
"In there." He jerked his chin toward a small metal door.
I looked at the small square door of the cell in front of me. I swallowed. An awful scenario began to rise in my mind. He was going to lock me in there?
"Don't worry. You'll be fine, Saxony."
Liar.
He moved the blowtorch a little closer to Fed's face and she made a strangled sound.
"Hurry up," he said. "My arm is getting tired. If you're not inside that room in three seconds, I'll blister her ear."
I gulped, ducked my head under the lintel, and stepped through. The metal door slammed shut behind me and the sound of the blowtorch ended. I stepped back from the door and tripped as my foot hit a crumbling step. I staggered and half fell backward. Three little steps let up to the floor of the room. I was standing in a small divot in front of the door. I bent and looked through the little window in the metal door.
Dante's face appeared in the grate. "I'll be back in a little while," he said.
"Fed?" I rasped. "Are you okay?" Fingers of fear curled through me, making my legs feel weak.
"I'm okay," she said. "Saxony. Don't give in—"
"Move, Fed," Dante snapped, cutting her off. Their soft footsteps moved rapidly down the hall.
"Dante?" I yelled, hoarsely. The name echoed bluntly. I listened as their footsteps pounded on the stairs in the distance, and then all fell quiet.
My mind felt fuzzy, disjointed. This couldn't be real. Was I really locked in an ancient cell somewhere under Venice? Molten lava rolled and swelled through me, searing and baking my insides. I put my fingers through the small grate. I screamed Dante’s name as loud as I could.
No answer. No sound at all. I gulped air, and the fire surged wickedly under my ribs.
I turned to look around. There was a foul taste in my mouth and the air smelled like old urine and moldy basement. A wooden platform was built into the wall. A bed? High ceilings. The only window was high up in the wall opposite the door. It was far too high for me to peek out of and there was nothing under it to stand on.
The cell was not dissimilar to the ones that I had seen when I had toured the Doge's Palace. A low square of concrete in the corner with a round hole in the top would have served as a toilet. My eyes were drawn to a painting on the wall, a large circular image filled in with black and white squares. A game? A smaller version of the same had been drawn on other places on the wall.