“I thought I told you to get out.” Marcello sipped at his steaming tea.
“You did. And I did. And now I’ve returned.”
Marcello set his cup down. “What do you want this time, niece?” he sneered. “Get it out so we can all get on with our pathetic lives.”
“I don’t have a life anymore,” I said. “The Da Vias took it from me.”
“That’s why I included you in the pathetic part.”
I dug my fingers into the arms of my chair, trying to rein in my temper. Marcello’s eyes flashed to my hands, and he grinned slowly.
He was trying to get a rise out of me, trying to make me angry so he would have an excuse to throw me out again. I wouldn’t let him beat me.
“They lit the house on fire,” I said. “While we slept. They came inside and set the fire and waited for us to flee our beds before cutting us down.”
Marcello tapped the arms of his chair. “That is what the Da Vias do. They are sharks in the sea, always circling, always waiting for an opportunity to taste blood.”
“I left my brother’s body in the tunnel,” I continued. “I left my mother in the house, fighting Da Vias, while the roof collapsed and surrounded her with flames.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have abandoned her, then.”
I bit my cheek until the taste of blood bloomed across my tongue. “Emile was four years old. Jesep was sixteen. Matteo was nineteen. Rafeo was twenty-four and already a widower.”
“So? What’s your point? Death comes for all of us. You of all people should know that Safraella sees not age, nor wealth nor creed.”
I needed his help. Why was it so hard to appeal to his sense of justice? “Help me, please. They were your family, even if you were no longer Family,” I said. “They were your blood.”
“Pah.” He shook his head.
I leaned back. “Maybe you are too much of a Da Via.”
He slammed his fist of the arm of his chair. “Don’t you dare call me a Da Via!”
“You were married to Estella Da Via. I know that much. And there you sit, choosing them over us.”
“I’m not choosing anyone. There’s no point to your little plan of vengeance. It doesn’t matter.”
“They were my Family!” My voice cracked shamefully, and I flushed.
Marcello eyed me. “And you were lucky to have them when you did. Not everyone in this world is so blessed. You should count yourself further blessed that you survived while they didn’t. Forget about them. They will surely be reborn—if they haven’t been already—and won’t have a single memory of you. Flee from here, from Lovero. Find some man to straddle and make yourself a new family. It’s the only way you’ll achieve any peace in this life.”
I glared at him. “I don’t need peace in this life. I need vengeance.”
He got to his feet. “Well, you won’t find any help here. I need you to leave now. And you’re not welcome back, niece.”
I stood. More than anything I wanted to hurt him, to claw his eyes, bury my stiletto in his unfeeling heart. But I had promised Les I would behave, and he was my only hope now of getting the information I needed from Marcello.
“My father would be ashamed of you,” I said.
Marcello smirked. “He already was. Now leave.”
He turned his back on me and headed to the kitchen.
I waited for my anger to abate so I wouldn’t lose my temper again before I strode from the fire. On a small table sat a dish filled with coins, the coins Les had been stealing from his marks. Marcello and Les weren’t even using them.
I needed clothing. And food. And money to claim any further letters Faraday might send me. I couldn’t just sit around, begging for Marcello’s help, waiting for the Da Vias to find and end me. I had to do something.
I scooped coins into my hand and shoved them into my purse. I didn’t take them all, but enough to get by. One way or another, Marcello was going to help me.
In the tunnel room I jerked the grate up. Suddenly Les’s hand was on mine, closing over it and the grate. His palms and fingers were warm, and calloused, but his grip was gentle. I glared at him, the coins heavy in my purse.
He gave me a sympathetic smile and mouthed a silent apology for how Marcello had treated me.
I wanted to be angry at Les, too, but he seemed sincere in his apology, just like he seemed sincere in everything he did. My rage began to fade, and I nodded. It wasn’t his fault, anyway. He had warned me.
“Later tonight?” he whispered.
For a moment I wanted to tell him no. I wanted to walk into the middle of the street and wait there until the Da Vias found me and sent me to meet Safraella like the rest of my Family. It would be so much easier.
But my Family would be ashamed of me, and regardless of how Marcello felt, I knew if I added more shame on top of my guilt, I wouldn’t meet Safraella when my life ended. My heart would be so full of despair that I would wander the dead plains as a ghost in my own personal hell.
“Only if we work on the firebomb,” I said.