Inferno (Blood for Blood #2)

by Catherine Doyle

  Amusement spluttered from me in the most unattractive way. ‘Are you really comparing me to an antique right now? Oh my God, you nerd.’

  He started laughing, and the carefree melody of it swept me up until I was laughing too, and it was absurd because our families were being threatened and murdered and there we were squished together in a hundred-degree heat outside a maximum security prison, and we used to hate each other and now we were laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes.

  He composed himself first, but it took a while and I was left choking my laughter into silence. ‘What I meant was,’ his face twisted into a quiet smile that felt secret and deadly, ‘you’re a bright spark, Sophie. And I don’t want anyone to snuff you out.’

  ‘Oh.’ Well I couldn’t make fun of that. Was I supposed to say something back? Wasn’t that how compliments worked? The silence was growing and suddenly his words felt heavy and important and he was so close to me and I was perspiring and panicking, and … and I said, ‘And you’re kind of like a snowflake.’

  Oh, Jesus Christ.

  He masked his fleeting surprise with a quirked eyebrow. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I said quickly. ‘I didn’t say anything.’

  ‘No, no,’ he said, rounding on me so his face was too close, his eyes too searing, his smile too irritating. ‘I’m a snowflake, am I?’

  ‘Shut up. Seriously.’ I pulled wisps of loose hair around my cheeks. ‘Shut up.’

  ‘I think you were trying to tell me I was special.’

  ‘Icy,’ I said. ‘I meant you were icy.’

  I could practically taste his glee. I was floundering, and he was relishing it.

  ‘And unique, in that you’re uniquely annoying,’ I added. ‘God, you’re annoying. That’s what I meant.’

  ‘If I’m annoying, then they haven’t yet invented a word to describe you.’

  ‘Shut up. I’m perfect.’ I stuck my tongue out.

  ‘I suppose you’re not the worst.’ He removed himself from my personal space and refixed his gaze to the sky. His arms stretched out behind him, his fingers brushing my shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘But goddammit you are stubborn, Sophie Gracewell.’

  ‘I’m not stubborn. I’m persistent.’

  ‘No. You’re stubborn.’ His smile turned rueful. ‘And you make terrible decisions. Especially in life-or-death situations. It’s like you always choose to do that one thing you’re definitely not supposed to do.’

  ‘I do not!’ I protested.

  ‘You know that saying, “If everyone was jumping off a cliff, would you jump too?” Well, I seriously think you would.’

  ‘So you are basically telling me I’m stupid, is that it?’

  ‘No,’ he said in a measured voice, like he was actually trying not to offend me. ‘I’m saying you are ruled by your emotions. And I’m afraid there’ll come a time when the smart thing will be to walk away from a dangerous situation, and you won’t do it, because your emotions will stop you.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Well, excusez-moi for having emotions. It’s not my fault you’re lacking in that department.’

  He stared at me, his expression suddenly unreadable. ‘I have emotions, Sophie, but I don’t let them rule me.’

  ‘Whatever,’ I said haughtily. ‘I am very capable of making smart decisions, I’ll have you know.’

  He frowned at me. ‘Why did you come to Eden, then?’

  ‘Why did you, Mr Double Standards?’

  ‘It’s different for me.’

  He was beginning to annoy me – this holier-than-thou thing he had going on. He turned his attention from me, lost in his own world. For the first time that week I wasn’t thinking about all the danger swirling around me, or all the things I still didn’t know. Instead, I was thinking about how annoying Luca was. I was thinking about his superior attitude. That smug smile he had. The weird musicality in his laugh. I was thinking about how his hair swooped behind his ears in that stupid careless way. I was wondering about his eyes and whether their intense blueness ever caught him off guard when he looked in the mirror. I wondered if he was vain. He didn’t seem vain, but I never did have a proper handle on his character. It always seemed to change just when I thought I had figured him out.

  He was looking at me again, his lips stretched wide so his smile was all teeth.

  I slow-blinked. ‘What?’

  ‘You realize you’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes?’

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ I said. ‘I was staring into space. I was thinking about stuff.’

  ‘If I didn’t know better I’d say you were getting lost in my eyes.’

  I sprang to my feet. ‘Oh my God, I was not. You are so full of yourself.’

  In the distance the bus was rolling to a stop and I thanked the universe for small mercies. I was going crazy. He was making me crazy and I had to get out of there.

  He eyed the bus with unconcealed disgust. It was really old, and even from outside you could just tell it smelt of sweat and broken dreams. ‘Do you want a ride back to Cedar Hill?’

  I was already carrying myself away, hiding the pink in my cheeks. I waved over my shoulder. ‘No thank you, Zoolander. I’ll leave you to your vanity.’

  ‘You’ll melt on that thing. It’s from the Stone Age.’

  I twirled my fingers in a queenly goodbye as I got on the bus.

  My face fell. The driver was wearing a wife-beater. A half-smoked cigarette lolled from his mouth and he was tapping a sign that read ‘Air conditioning on board this bus is temporarily out of service. We apologize for any inconvenience.’

  I backed down the steps, swallowing my pride as sweat beaded on my forehead. I whirled around to find Luca leaning against the bus stop, smirking, in his award-winning role as the actual personification of smugness.

  I skipped over to him. ‘Sooo … about that ride you offered …’

  ‘I knew you’d come crawling back.’ He turned on his heel, his amusement flying over his shoulder. ‘How do your words taste, Sophie?’

  I stuck my tongue out at the back of his head as I followed him to his car. ‘The air conditioner was broken.’

  ‘So your pride is worth the price of having cool air on your face?’

  I wiped a stray bead of sweat from my brow. ‘Hey, Luca?’ He glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow hiked up. ‘Shut up.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  BLUE VIOLETS

  Luca’s car was spacious and cushy, and the air conditioning was heavenly. I lay back and sighed happily as a cold breeze feathered my face. For an instant there was nothing else but that feeling of welcome relief, dissolving the sticky hotness that had been crawling up my back all day.

  ‘This is amazing,’ I groaned. ‘I can’t believe I was going to take that bus.’

  We were on the highway and Luca had one arm lolling easily on the armrest between us and the other resting atop the wheel of the car. We were going fast but it didn’t feel like it. It felt … safe.

  Luca side-glanced at me. ‘You are easily pleased, Sophie Gracewell.’

  I shrugged. ‘I’m trying to concentrate on the small things right now, and this small thing is nice.’

  He nodded, his attention refocusing on the rear-view mirror. ‘That’s a good philosophy.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I just came up with it.’

  He frowned, adjusting the mirror and dropping his speed. He muttered something, but I couldn’t catch it.

  ‘What is it?’ I sat up.

  A horn sounded behind us. I turned to find a car weaving erratically three vehicles back. It was black, but other than that, I couldn’t make anything out. One thought pounded out all the others, as the word Marino rang in my head.

  Luca sped up again and I was flung against the seat. ‘Cazzo,’ he said. ‘Sophie, get down.’

  He grabbed the wheel with one hand and reached under his seat with the other, pulling out a handgun. My eyes grew to twice their size. ‘Luca …’

/>   ‘I said get down!’ he shouted.

  He weaved towards the side of the street.

  The strange car was two cars back now, swerving from one side of the highway to the other. Oncoming vehicles were honking as it veered into their lane.

  I slunk to the ground, resting my head just above the seat. Luca kept the gun cocked in his hand, his eyes narrowed at the rear-view mirror. He opened the window, and the sound of hollering filled up the car.

  My knees were shaking against the floor, my hands gripping the seats so tight my fingers had turned white.

  ‘Don’t get up,’ he warned. ‘Whatever happens, don’t get up.’

  The erratic car overtook the one directly behind us. I could hear it even though I couldn’t see it. The shouting got louder. Luca pulled towards the side of the road, his jaw clenched tight. He was watching the side-view mirror, then over his shoulder, gun outstretched as he pulled the window down, and then … and then it was over.

  The car behind us backfired, chugged and sped up, leaving the sound of five frat boys laughing and shouting in its wake as it passed us.

  Luca pulled his firing arm back. ‘Dio.’ He stowed his gun down the side of his seat and fell back against the headrest as he eased us into the middle of the highway again. I crawled back up, one hand clutched over my heart, the other dug firmly into the armrest between us.

  ‘Oh my God,’ I gasped. ‘I really thought we were dead.’

  Luca’s knuckles were marble-white against the steering wheel. ‘I thought it was …’ His words caught in his throat, and he cleared it, shaking his head so that his hair fell across his eyes. He swept it back, leaving his hand on his face, and sliding it down across his lips. ‘I thought it was the Marinos,’ he said, his voice muffled by his fingers.

  ‘So did I,’ I breathed.

  This was the first time I had seen concern etched so freely across his face, and it made my stomach twist with fear for what was to come, not just for me but for all of us. That was a test run – a false alarm – but it was a very real reminder of the kind of world now moving around me. His world. His fate.

  ‘In an alternative universe, we could both be dead right now,’ I realized.

  ‘Don’t say things like that.’

  I looked at my hands, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me again.

  Luca eased off the highway at the next exit and pulled into the parking lot of a Dunkin’ Donuts. ‘Coffee,’ he said, scrubbing his hand across his forehead. ‘I need a gallon.’

  Adrenalin had surged through every part of me, and now it was seeping away, making me shake as I tried to centre myself. It was strange. We almost died. And yet, there was no danger, not really, in the end. I felt stupid for overreacting, and yet at the same time I felt lucky to be alive.

  ‘Sophie?’ We were in the drive-through line and Luca was staring at me.

  ‘Hmm?’ My smile felt watery.

  ‘What do you want?’

  Oh, I dunno. To live a life where I’m not constantly expecting the untimely deaths of those around me. ‘Nothing,’ I said, half scanning the menu outside without reading it. ‘I’m fine.’

  Luca’s voice darkened. ‘You’re not fine.’

  I pinched my fingers to give myself something to do. My heart was still ramming against my ribcage. I was still thinking about the gun Luca had pulled out, about the car that had sped by us. ‘I’m just having a moment.’

  Luca scanned the menu as we inched by it, one hand on the wheel, the other elbow propped on the open window frame. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’m going to make an executive decision and get you a doughnut with rainbow sprinkles, because you seem like somebody who would like that.’

  I felt a white-hot flash of indignation. If he was trying to skirt over the bizarre-ness of what had just happened, patronizing me was not going to help.

  ‘I’m not a child,’ I said. ‘You don’t have to get me anything.’

  I was feeling the dim heat of embarrassment flaming in my cheeks. Luca had been prepared to defend us both with his life just now on the highway, and me? I’d been crouching like a scared rat beneath the glove compartment. What the hell was wrong with me? How long would it take for my legs to stop feeling like jelly? I had seen so much already. I should have been braver, stronger. But I was a coward. I was useless.

  We pulled up to the window and the smell of freshly baked dough wafted towards me. I clutched at my stomach to stop the growl and was reminded with a sharp pang that I was starving. Dammit, I wanted that doughnut. But I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve anything. I was so sick of cowering.

  ‘You should eat something.’

  I was too angry with myself to respond. I shrugged and directed my gaze out the window while he ordered.

  A couple of minutes later, we were on the highway again. Luca was drinking his coffee like it was water. The radio was on low and there was country music – something about a pair of boots and a truck – filling up the car.

  Luca unwrapped a brown bag and placed a doughnut on the dashboard above the radio. It sat between us like an artefact in a museum. It was covered in rainbow sprinkles. The glaze was still dripping down the sides and the smell invaded my nostrils. Desire exploded inside me as my mouth filled with water.

  Without taking his eyes off the road or saying anything at all, Luca nudged it half an inch across the dashboard towards me.

  I lasted two minutes. Then I caved.

  I stuck out a tentative hand, watching him in my periphery. He was focused on the road and humming softly under his breath. I snatched the doughnut and took a bite, revelling in the gooey sugar as it rushed over my tongue.

  My brain was fizzing. Luca took another gulp of his coffee and I noticed with a frown that he hadn’t gotten anything else for himself. Just a tall, bitter helping of caffeine. How typically Luca of him. I put the doughnut back on the dashboard and nudged it, ever so slightly, towards him.

  His gaze flicked to the left, his lip quirking upwards for one passing second. Slowly, he reached his hand out and took it, taking a bite on the other side so that even in its punctured state, the doughnut and all that sugary glory was perfectly symmetrical. I watched him chew, fixated on the curve of his jaw. He blinked, slow and heavy, and I could tell he was enjoying it. I felt bad taking it away from him, but I was still starving, and this doughnut was literally the happiest thing that had happened to me in way too long.

  I took another bite, joining with my first so the grooves aligned. A groan of pleasure escaped me and I closed my eyes, thinking only of the taste for that fleeting moment. God, it was good. I fought the urge to stuff the rest in my mouth, and put it back. Luca picked it up a minute later. He chewed in silence but this time he nodded, as though agreeing with my earlier groan.

  We shared it that way – tiny bites – back and forth until there was just one bite left. I watched, feeling way too forlorn as Luca picked it up. It was his turn. We were almost home now. The rest of the ride had passed quickly, with sugar and smirks and side-glances as we slowly picked through one measly doughnut and expertly avoided the entire shitstorm that was swirling around both our families. We didn’t mention Donata or Jack or the gun Luca had under his seat. We didn’t talk about the warehouse, the blood war, the fact that we were at the start of something that was only going to get worse. We were both thinking about it, but our whole drive became about that doughnut and nothing else.

  He took the tiniest bite and put the final piece back on the dashboard, leaving the last of it for me. He cleared his throat, and just as I popped the end of it in my mouth and swallowed without bothering to chew, he turned to me and asked, ‘Better now?’

  ‘It’s a start.’ I rubbed my fingertips on my shorts to get rid of the stickiness. ‘Was that the first doughnut you’ve ever had?’ I asked him.

  Luca threw his head back and laughed so loudly I almost jumped in my seat.

  He laughed and laughed. I could see all his teeth. I didn’t realize how wide his s
mile could stretch, or how little crinkles formed beside his eyes when he was amused. I didn’t know he could even laugh like that. It was so strange to see him untethered from his usual brand of seriousness.

  I thought he might actually tear up with amusement, but after a while he just shook his head, shaking off the dregs of his laughter. ‘Are you serious?’ he asked, stealing a glance at me as we pulled off the highway. ‘Was that a real question?’

  ‘What?’ I asked, my eyes wide and innocent. ‘Why are you laughing so hard? Don’t be so rude.’

  He shook his head, still smiling, and I fought the urge to slam my fist into his knee to wipe the smile off his face. He was disconcerting like this. It made him too approachable. I was used to aloof-Luca, snarky-Luca. This Luca threw me off.

  ‘Yes, I’ve had a doughnut before,’ he said. ‘I’ve also tried cake and pizza, and I’ve been on a swing set and played on a PlayStation. I did not grow up in a metal cage.’ He laughed again, but this time under his breath. ‘Dio, sei divertente. What a question.’

  I weighed my response. ‘I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. It’s just … you just seem like such a … um …’

  ‘What?’ He flicked his gaze to me again. ‘A killjoy?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, trying to salvage what I was about to say. But the thing is, that sort of was what I was about to say. ‘Well, yeah, kinda. You’re always so serious about stuff.’

  The joviality seeped from his expression, but his voice remained light. ‘I have to be serious about things, Sophie. It’s my job. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have fun. Or how to eat a doughnut.’

  ‘OK, then,’ I said, duly scolded. ‘Consider me enlightened.’

  He was still shaking his head. ‘You really are something else.’

  The mood had finally lifted. The tension from earlier had drained, and I relaxed in the easiness that took its place.

  ‘Thanks for the doughnut,’ I said, watching the expanses of green outside and enjoying feeling satiated. ‘You were right. I love sprinkles.’