Chapter 28 · Down the Shaft

"Unlock the gate, Lucia." Uncle Sal's voice crackled through the intercom, sweet as syrup. "Roll Dante's corpse out, and I might let you live."

I didn't answer him. I was kneeling in Dante's blood.

It was warm, slick, and everywhere. It soaked through my wedding-night silk, pooled across the concrete, and glowed sickly under the red emergency strips. Dante was propped against the server rack. His jaw stayed clenched, his eyes half-lidded and fever-bright.

"Don't," Dante rasped. Pure gravel. "Don't talk to him."

"Shut up. I'm busy."

"Lucia."

"I said shut up."

I tore the hem clean off my dress and rammed it straight into the hole under his ribs.

He hissed through his teeth. His hand whipped out, clamping around my wrist so hard the bones ground together.

"Good," I breathed, leaning into his face. "You're still pissed off. Stay pissed."

Something like a grin flickered at the edge of his mouth. Then it washed out under the grey pallor of shock.

Above us, the vault shuddered. Dust rained down from the overhead pipes. Something heavy slammed into the villa upstairs. Once. Twice. The overhead strips buzzed and went dim.

"Lucia, sweetheart.