Vicious Minds (Children of Vice 4)

“Which would make you an assassin,” I said slowly.

“Two birds one stone. I came for you and happened to have work to do,” she said cheerfully. “Surprise. Please don’t ask me what my number is. That’s so personal.”

Well, this was an unexpected turn of events.

“This is how you got stronger isn’t it?” I wasn’t sure how she had gotten to the place she was at now and to be honest I really didn’t really care.

“In part. My grandfather used to work for your mother.”

“I know.” Her father had been in one of my mother’s records, he was an Orsini who changed his name to Affini.

“The messy history that connects our families will only get more complicated when people find out I’m with you.”

“If my parents could work it out, I’m confident we can too,” I answered. That chapter of history belongs to our grandparents, not us. After all, I was born to be the miracle baby who ended the blood feuds. She only helped further that cause. “You said in part? What is the other part?”

“My grandfather sent me to military school the year after I left Chicago. When I was eighteen my grandmother had me…drafted.” She chose the word carefully.

“For?”

“i Libitinarii.” She handed me her kettle corn only to turn back over and pick up her bottle, still no glass, taking a drink before reclaiming the kettle corn. She offered me the bottle and I took it, drinking as well.

“Here, I thought God had taken President Rojas off my hands. Now I see everything links back to you too.” I wiped the wine from my lips and leaned back on the pillows.

“The good lord works in mysterious ways.” She took the bottle back, turning over once more and returning to her cheesy movie.

She crossed legs. They swayed slightly next to me as she watched. I could tell, no, I could feel that she wasn’t going to tell me any more. Not because she couldn’t. But because she told me enough…enough that I could find out if she was lying or not. She wasn’t. She shared her past so I would share in return.

“I need to go back to Chicago tomorrow. July 4th is a family and public affair, I can’t miss it,” I told her and her legs stopped moving. Sitting up on my knees I climbed over her, my body on top of hers, my lips by her ears. “My neighborhood gets dangerous when I’m gone for too long.”

“And?”

“And you can’t come back with me.”

“I’m heartbroken,” she said, still eating the kettle corn. I could hear the sarcasm in her voice, however her eyes were demanding an explanation.

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on using you and throwing you away anymore,” I whispered, brushing her hair over and kissing the space between her neck and shoulders.

“Is that so?”

“You know it is,” I muttered against her skin working my way to her ear. “But I’m going to need your help setting a trap.”

“The great Ethan Callahan needs my help setting a trap? Who could be such difficult prey….”

“My parents.”

Her body went still. She looked over her shoulder, capturing my eyes with her own. She looked me over as if she was reading a book. She put the kettle corn on floor and turned over, still laying under me.

“Traps don’t work on the dead.” She spoke softly in Italian, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

“I’m aware,” I whispered down to her. “I didn’t just give into you because I want you Calliope. Like you said, I am broken. Which means no matter what you do, how you prove yourself to me, a small part of me is going to distrust you. The only thing that’s going to change that is time. And until that time, I live with the knowle

dge that if you are in this to betray me, my parents will end up killing you if they think I’m going to fail.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “How do you know they are alive?”

“Gut feeling.” She frowned, unimpressed, and was about to roll back over to get her bowl when I pressed my weight against her and leaned in closer. “Not good enough?”

“Children struggle to grasp their parents’ deaths. No matter who they are or how old they may get, the brain convinces…” she paused, glaring at me. “And you wouldn’t be telling me this because you know that too. It would make you look like a child who can’t let go. How do you really know, Ethan?”