Inferno (Blood for Blood #2)

Without turning around, he said, ‘There’s blood on your face.’

In the darkness of the long corridor, I furiously scrubbed my cheek with my fingers, removing the smudge of Luca’s blood that had imprinted on my skin during our kiss.

At the very end of the hallway Valentino tapped once on the door. He dropped his voice, and in barely more than a whisper, he said, ‘For these last minutes, you have your secret and your life. Enjoy them while they last.’

Goosebumps rippled along my arms as I shuffled into the room after him, and I wondered again, with rising panic, whether Valentino was really talking about the kiss at all.





CHAPTER THIRTY





THE SECRET




The meeting was held in a room at the very back of the house. A huge table made from varnished dark wood stretched the entire length of the room. The oil painting from the Priestly house in Cedar Hill – Valentino’s rendering of the avenging angel – hung in the middle of the room, and framed pictures of other Falcones, all dead, ranged along a shelf underneath. Calvino’s picture was nestled between Angelo’s and that of an old man with no hair – Rico Falcone, I guessed, since he was the most recent Falcone casualty.

Valentino stopped at the head of the table, and one by one, like a domino effect, every single Falcone – women and men, elderly and teenaged – formed a procession leading towards him. He held his hand out, his lids falling lazily as they each bent low and kissed his ring, murmuring Italian greetings as they turned to take their seats again. I pressed my back against the wall.

The Council was called to order. Felice sat on Valentino’s left, Luca on his right. He hadn’t looked in my direction once. He was facing forwards, the muscles in his jaw grinding. Nic winked at me before turning his attention to his oldest brother. I wished I could have shared his confidence.

Valentino cleared his throat. ‘Welcome, everyone, to what promises to be a memorable meeting.’ He flicked his gaze to me. I looked into those azure eyes and saw my own hopelessness reflected back. ‘Today, we remember those who have given their blood to protect this family.’ He placed a hand on his chest and dipped his head. ‘We think of Calvino and Rico. Ora riposano in pace.’

Quiet murmurings echoed along the table as the other Falcones pressed their hands to their hearts as Valentino had. ‘Ora riposano in pace.’

Valentino snapped his head up and the tender moment was gone. He looked straight at me when he said, ‘We are here today to discuss a serious matter, which concerns Donata Marino and the Marino family.’

There was a hiss from somewhere at the far end of the table. Elena pulled her lips back, her teeth bared, at the mention of her sister. Valentino pointed towards me. ‘For those who are not aware, I present to you Sophie Gracewell, daughter of Michael Gracewell.’

Luca looked at me for the first time. His expression was shuttered.

‘She has come to us today seeking the order of Sanctuary, for the protection of her mother and herself,’ Valentino added with a sneer.

A man with a heavy white beard seated part way down the table, said, ‘Such ceremony for small matters, Valentino. Of course we offer Sanctuary – it’s nothing for us.’

‘So it would appear,’ muttered Felice.

Outside, the storm clouds were sinking lower and lower. The room was charged, and the hairs on my arm were standing up. The urgency of the situation licked at my consciousness.

‘It’s ludicrous,’ Elena cried. Her hands rose into the air, gesticulating above the heads around her. ‘These people are the family of the man who killed your father, Valentino. They certainly do not deserve Sanctuary.’

A man with puffed-up white hair and a face creviced with wrinkles clapped his palm on the table. ‘We do not punish innocents,’ he said in a voice croaky with age. ‘Elena, you are letting your personal feelings override your duty to protect. That is the Falcone cause.’

Her voice turned hard. ‘That has not been our cause for a long time, Tommaso.’

I was watching Valentino. He and Felice had their heads bent together. His lips moved hurriedly, and every so often Felice’s eyes would grow very large. He glared at me, and I felt like there was a sniper rifle trained on my forehead. Luca sat apart from their huddle, his mouth set in a hard line as his twin angled his body towards Felice, continuing their hushed conversation.

Dom was speaking at the other end of the table. ‘I say we send her back to Donata. We’ve got all the information we need. What Sophie does now shouldn’t concern us.’

‘Exactly,’ said Elena in an exasperated voice. ‘At least one of my children sees sense.’

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