me.”
She gave him a brisk nod and turned.
Instead of immediately leaving and heading into the street to search for the scent of his prey, he stayed there and watched the sway of Rayne’s hips as she walked away.
Fuck . He forced himself to walk into the elevator. Moments later, he strode out of the building and onto the streets of Venice.
He followed the well-worn paths, ducked through alleys, walked alongside the canals. He loved the never-ending whirl of Rome but he also liked Venice. She was like a capricious lady who kept you guessing. You could get lost in her twists and turns and always discover something new.
He crossed the Ponte di Rialto, the oldest bridge spanning the Grand Canal. He wondered what it’s long-ago critics would think of it now—still standing after hundreds of years despite their predictions of ruin. He liked the idea that it had prevailed despite the odds.
Vaporetto waterbuses and gondolas crossed under the bridge while wide-eyed tourists and tired-looking Venetians walked over the top. Luca paused at the peak and stared down at the busy waterway beneath. Night was falling, shrouding the city in a murky, mysterious haze.
A cool natural breeze brushed over his face, ruffling his dark hair. Surreptitiously, he moved his hand, stirring the air.
The North Wind responded.
It was cold, carrying the chill of the northern countries with it. It brushed over him, cooling the anger that simmered under his skin like some warlock’s evil potion.
But Luca knew very well that it could also drive him into an icy rage—one that could not be stopped.
The taint of something fetid teased his senses.
Caecius.
Turning, Luca descended from the bridge and melted into the shadows of a back alley. He commanded his wind to seek out his foe. Show me his hiding place.
The stench grew. Following the trail, Luca crossed a tiny bridge with wrought-iron railings. Now night held Venice in her silky grip and ornate lampposts lit his way. Here in the back alleys there were no tourists, no crowds.
He turned a corner. Heard the thud of flesh on flesh.
When he stepped into the small square, he saw two men pummeling each other without mercy. As Luca moved closer, he noticed three more men watching, cheering them on.
A wall of aggression slammed into Luca and he staggered under the weight of it.
His jaw tightened. This was not natural.
“Stop it!” He stepped into the circle of light from a lamppost. “You don’t want to do this.”
The two men fighting stopped. One’s white shirt was covered in a spray of blood from his broken nose. The other had a rapidly swelling eye.
The spectators moved and as Luca watched, all five men circled him.
Maldeizone . He flexed his hands. He was honest enough to admit that a part of him welcomed the fight. The other part of him knew it was dangerous for him to let his anger loose.
It was like a beast, hungry to slip its leash.
“We do want to do this,” one man said. He looked at his friends. “Don’t we, boys?”
As they grumbled their responses, Luca slipped out of his jacket and tossed it over a nearby bench.
The men charged.
Luca thrust a fist into the face of the first man, then spun and caught the next in the stomach.
Knuckles slammed into Luca’s kidneys and he grunted. He ducked under one man’s arm, dragging the man in front of him like a shield. One of his friend’s blows hit the man in the chest.
Luca pushed him away and kicked out at the next attacker. But then a weight hit him from behind.
He went down hard but he was already rolling, shoving his attacker off him. But two more were there, grabbing his arms, pinning him to the ground. A fist smashed into Luca’s face. Once. Twice. He tasted blood.
The fire in his system ignited. Fight. Fight. Kill.
He reared up and grabbed one man holding him. Using his superhuman strength, he tossed the man aside. The man crashed into a wall and slid to the ground.
Another attacker hit at Luca. He slammed the
She gave him a brisk nod and turned.
Instead of immediately leaving and heading into the street to search for the scent of his prey, he stayed there and watched the sway of Rayne’s hips as she walked away.
Fuck . He forced himself to walk into the elevator. Moments later, he strode out of the building and onto the streets of Venice.
He followed the well-worn paths, ducked through alleys, walked alongside the canals. He loved the never-ending whirl of Rome but he also liked Venice. She was like a capricious lady who kept you guessing. You could get lost in her twists and turns and always discover something new.
He crossed the Ponte di Rialto, the oldest bridge spanning the Grand Canal. He wondered what it’s long-ago critics would think of it now—still standing after hundreds of years despite their predictions of ruin. He liked the idea that it had prevailed despite the odds.
Vaporetto waterbuses and gondolas crossed under the bridge while wide-eyed tourists and tired-looking Venetians walked over the top. Luca paused at the peak and stared down at the busy waterway beneath. Night was falling, shrouding the city in a murky, mysterious haze.
A cool natural breeze brushed over his face, ruffling his dark hair. Surreptitiously, he moved his hand, stirring the air.
The North Wind responded.
It was cold, carrying the chill of the northern countries with it. It brushed over him, cooling the anger that simmered under his skin like some warlock’s evil potion.
But Luca knew very well that it could also drive him into an icy rage—one that could not be stopped.
The taint of something fetid teased his senses.
Caecius.
Turning, Luca descended from the bridge and melted into the shadows of a back alley. He commanded his wind to seek out his foe. Show me his hiding place.
The stench grew. Following the trail, Luca crossed a tiny bridge with wrought-iron railings. Now night held Venice in her silky grip and ornate lampposts lit his way. Here in the back alleys there were no tourists, no crowds.
He turned a corner. Heard the thud of flesh on flesh.
When he stepped into the small square, he saw two men pummeling each other without mercy. As Luca moved closer, he noticed three more men watching, cheering them on.
A wall of aggression slammed into Luca and he staggered under the weight of it.
His jaw tightened. This was not natural.
“Stop it!” He stepped into the circle of light from a lamppost. “You don’t want to do this.”
The two men fighting stopped. One’s white shirt was covered in a spray of blood from his broken nose. The other had a rapidly swelling eye.
The spectators moved and as Luca watched, all five men circled him.
Maldeizone . He flexed his hands. He was honest enough to admit that a part of him welcomed the fight. The other part of him knew it was dangerous for him to let his anger loose.
It was like a beast, hungry to slip its leash.
“We do want to do this,” one man said. He looked at his friends. “Don’t we, boys?”
As they grumbled their responses, Luca slipped out of his jacket and tossed it over a nearby bench.
The men charged.
Luca thrust a fist into the face of the first man, then spun and caught the next in the stomach.
Knuckles slammed into Luca’s kidneys and he grunted. He ducked under one man’s arm, dragging the man in front of him like a shield. One of his friend’s blows hit the man in the chest.
Luca pushed him away and kicked out at the next attacker. But then a weight hit him from behind.
He went down hard but he was already rolling, shoving his attacker off him. But two more were there, grabbing his arms, pinning him to the ground. A fist smashed into Luca’s face. Once. Twice. He tasted blood.
The fire in his system ignited. Fight. Fight. Kill.
He reared up and grabbed one man holding him. Using his superhuman strength, he tossed the man aside. The man crashed into a wall and slid to the ground.
Another attacker hit at Luca. He slammed the
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