Page 22 of Fastest Kill

Men like Dario didn't look at women like her that way. She wasn't their type. She was built strong, not sweet and feminine like her mother. She was too tall, too muscular, too loud, and too capable.

The doorbell rang, making them both jump in surprise.

"I'm not expecting company," Tore said softly.

Dario was off her, and they were on their feet in a blink. Frederica pulled out a gun that Despina always had stashed under the side table, while Dario was already drawing a knife out from his boot.

Tore hadn't moved from his armchair. He glanced toward the door and then at the two of them and their weapons.

"Stay there in your chair and let me check who it is, amore mio." Despina appeared in the kitchen doorway, drying her hands on a cloth. "You are always too trusting."

"Yes, darling," he said, a besotted smile on his face. He always got that face when Despina went into violence mode. She had always been Tore's protector, and Frederica knew to stay out of her way.

Despina walked to the door and took her Beretta from the back of her pants. The professionalism was back in her like a switch had been thrown, shoulders squared, weight evenly distributed. There was nothing in her expression that you could read before she wanted you to.

She looked through the peephole.

"The light is shit, and his back is to me, but he looks like an older man," Despina whispered.

"Please forgive the intrusion at this late hour, Despina," a smooth voice said from the other side of the door. "But I need to have a word with my nephew."

They all turned to look at Dario. His olive skin went pale, and his grip on his knife tightened.

"It's Serapis," he said.

"Well," Despina said, her gun lowering. "This night just got interesting."

9

Dario was moving toward the door before his brain had finished processing the voice. It was the same one that had come out of Vincenzo's mouth in Treviso when he had stared at them with someone else's eyes and told them he was not their real enemy.

Worse than that, it was achingly familiar because its owner had spent decades inside his family's house under the name Lucius Foscari, drinking their wine, attending their birthdays, and teaching them how to cheat at poker when they were still kids.

"Please, nipote, don't make me beg," Serapis added, his sigh audible through the door.

Tore's hand came down on Dario's wrist. Dario hadn't heard him move from his chair because of the screaming in his head.

"My house has always been neutral ground," Tore said quietly. "My rules. We open the door, and we hear what he has to say. We decide if anyone needs to die afterward."

Dario stared at him, trying to assess if Tore was working with him or against him. Tore's face was completely calm. He wasn't afraid of what was on the other side of that door because he had only known Serapis as a good client for a long time.

"He went over a fucking cliff," Frederica said from behind him, her gun already up. "Altun stripped his magic first. He should be dead."

"Should be, but he was sure as shit spry enough to send Vincenzo and a fucking trapped djinn after us a few weeks ago," Dario growled.

"My point is, even if we wanted to kill him right now, we probably couldn't." Frederica's hazel eyes softened. "Dario, this is my parents' house. He has no fight with them. If you start something now, he will see them as a threat, and it will put them in danger."

Dario knew that she was right, but he still hesitated. Frederica moved between him and Tore, her father letting his arm go and moving aside. Her hair was a mess from their impromptu wrestle, and she smelled sweet and dark like blackberries. He didn't know if it was a shampoo or a body wash, but it was up his nose and on his clothes.

"Put the knife away, Dario. Let him say his piece and let him leave," she said. She was tall, but she still had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. They went from soft to glimmering with murderous intent. "If he fucks with us, I'll take the job for ten euros. Deal?"

As tense as he was, Dario couldn't stop his grin. "Fine, but I get to watch."

"I knew you were a pervert," she replied and grinned back.

"Oh, you have no idea, baby," he whispered, making her eyes spark with trouble. He sighed, lowered his knife, and nodded to Despina. "It's your house. Let him in if you want to."

Despina kept the Beretta at her side. Her thumb rested on the safety, and she opened the door.