Chapter 192: Under the Armor
- LUCIANO -
When I return from my restless, frustrated walk, I find Raya in Dex’s lap. They’re so passionately entangled that I actually stand there awkwardly wondering for a moment what I should do, which is not something that happens to me often.
Rather than grunt or clear my throat or cough obnoxiously, I decide to just sit down and enjoy the show. It’s not like they didn’t know I was returning, so if anything this is more exhibitionist than voyeuristic. My feet must come down on the low table between our chairs a little too hard as I’m putting my feet up, because Raya gasps and slides off Dex to reveal my glaring, growling cousin.
Seeing Dex grow more feral with each passing day is a pleasure I never really allowed myself to imagine. He never dared glare at me once until Raya entered his life. Now I’ve seen that flash of warning from him multiple times. It almost makes me curious as to whether or not he could best me in a purely physical fight.
Dex has the larger build. He’s taller, broader, bulkier. But that doesn’t matter much without experience. I may have multiple weapons strapped on me at all times, but I’m lethal without them. I’ve taken down guys bigger than Dex—much bigger.
A sparkle of light catches on Raya’s finger when she shifts, and that’s when I notice she is wearing the ring that was once my Zia Luna’s. She definitely wasn’t wearing that earlier.
"Congratulations," I grin.
"Thank you," she says, lashes fluttering against bright red cheeks.
"When is the big day?"
The sharp, threatening annoyance on Dex’s face vanishes the moment her gaze returns to him.
"Are we really doing it here?"
He reaches up and touches her chin gingerly. "If you don’t mind. But if you want a big wedding, we can always..."
"No," she says quickly. "No, no big wedding. Let’s do it here."
That is definitely something I would never be able to get away with, I think grudgingly. My parents are guaranteed to make sure mine is a who’s-who event of celebrities and criminals alike.
The two start kissing again, and this time I want to groan and leave them to it. But I’m not about to leave this deck. I’ve already decided. I’m going to sleep here at least for tonight, although I doubt there will be much actual sleeping involved with the current upheaval my thoughts are in.
"Wait," Raya says, pulling back from her fiancé. "Is that why Rory and Luciano are here?"
"Yes. And a few others are coming, but not until Friday."
There is a stunned moment of silence and surprise.
"You two have a lot to discuss. Go enjoy your room. I’ve got this."
Raya considers the suggestion, and I can see the warring emotions flicker across her expression. She is nothing if not loyal, and I have my own conflicting emotions about that. Annoyance that I can’t be trusted and allowed to do this simple task after everything, but mostly relief. Because Raya is the sister Rory deserves.
"You can’t tell me Rory will be upset," I add with a small chuckle. "Enjoy your surprise, Raya."
"You’re not going in her room, right?" She asks, and I see the apology that twins her question. She hates to ask, but she has to.
I can’t help my reaction, though. "What are you asking me, exactly?" A muscle in my jaw grinds against the anger I know isn’t justified.
"She’s making sure you aren’t going to go storming in there like you tried to earlier," Dex reacts.
This time he gets up, using his bristling size as part of his defense of Raya. It’s like poking a bear, and even though I’m not afraid of Dex—not in the least—I stand and nod respectfully.
"I won’t. That was stupid," I agree. "It was instinct. But you don’t have to worry about me. You both know that. I just want her safe."
Raya passes Dex and kisses me on the cheek. "I’m grateful for you, Luciano. I know she is, too."
With one final sharp look from Dex, they leave the deck and head over the suspension bridge toward their cabina.
——————
- RORY -
It’s black in the jungle of this dream, but the silhouettes of trees can still be seen reaching up and arching against the night like intimidating creatures. They’re in a ring—a dizzying ring that makes them appear to move threateningly.
My heart thunders in my ears, because this is the site of another ritual. Instinctively, I know it. This time, I’m on the outside and someone else has taken center stage. This time it’s my turn to watch everything unfold.
The ring of dark silhouettes begins to slither. They’re not trees. They’re the grown forms of those eel-like creatures that came out of me in my dream from before. They’re my demons.
They’re large, and they’re angry. They’ve been cast out into the cold world and denied the comfort of a host. But then why am I not the one who they are surrounding?
When I squint and struggle to see who is in the center of this treacherous tangle of demons, I catch the familiar flash of cold, black eyes. Luciano is slowly turning, trying to keep an eye on each and every one of them.
Despite how intimidating he himself is with those severe angles and the careful, lithe movements of someone who is feral and wild, he is alone and defenseless. There’s no circle of women coming to his aid. There’s no chanting. Instead, it feels like this has been set up.
Those elder women took my demons for this purpose. It wasn’t so that the darkness within me would be slaughtered. It was so that it would be raised and weaponized. It was so that Luciano would find himself in this position.
When the first slithering creature strikes, it penetrates clean through Luciano’s body. There’s no blood. There’s no gore at all—in fact, he is quite whole and alive through the entire vulgar process—yet the scene is the most horrifying thing I can imagine.
They pierce through him, one after the other, and each time his body jerks—invaded. Taken. Consumed.
It’s not until I fall onto my knees that I realize I’m screaming. My throat is raw. I can’t do anything at all to stop what’s happening. I’m just as helpless as when it happened to me.
"Rory!"
A male voice is harsh in my ear, and hands are encircling my arms, shaking me. I awake in bed still screaming with a silhouette arched over me in the darkness. The screams from my nightmare shift into new ones, and I thrash in panic against whatever it is that has a hold on me.
The hands that were shaking me release, and I dart up, tangled in sheets so that I end up falling from bed rather than escaping like I intended. Is it Lawson? Did he find me again? Am I back in the cabin?
"Rory, it’s me," the voice says, sinking onto the floor next to me. But it’s deep. I don’t know any voice that deep that I trust. "It’s Luci. Remember me? You’re safe. I swear on my life, you’re safe. I’m not here to hurt you."
The thundering of my heart continues, but my thoughts start to clear, and I’m sucking in sharp breaths. He doesn’t touch me, but I feel him there.
I mutter a curse and turn to brace myself against the floor as tremors continue to rake me. Another nightmare. That’s what that was.
At least a full minute passes before I start to feel ridiculous and try to unwrap myself from the sheets that I’m in.
"I’m sorry," I choke out, and those words are a mistake. Because a floodgate of tears opens, and I don’t have the energy to hold them back.
That must count as some kind of permission Luci’s waiting for to touch me again, because he wraps an arm around me and pulls me close. I don’t want this. I don’t want to need his comfort, but it feels good. He’s strong and warm. He’s not shaking like I am.
"It’s okay," he says. "It’s okay to be scared."
"That’s all I am. All the time. Scared and... weak." My voice is strained and exhausted. I’m so over this. I don’t want to feel it anymore. I don’t want to be trapped by nightmares and emotions that I can’t control.
"You’re not weak," he chuckles, and the certainty and depth of that sound that is in such contrast to my faltering one does something to me.
Luciano doesn’t think I’m weak? He’s in the mafia!
"You’re tough and armored. All the way to those dark, impenetrable eyes," he says, continuing to hold me against him. I can feel his voice in his chest like a deep gravel. "What goes on under that armor is something all of us experience."
"You, too?"
"Me too." His hand leaves my back and rises to cup my head. He takes in a deep breath, and I rise with his chest. "Though not as much as recently."
