adjusted the cuffs of his collared shirt. Such luck. In search of wrongdoing, he’d found not true wickedness, but young lovers confined within the depths of hopelessness. Standing before him, they possessed a profound slightness, granted not only by their small stature but through life’s cruelty. “Bloody hell.”
“Who are you?” the young man asked and pushed Giulia behind him.
Luke hung his head. “I am no one.”
The boy opened his mouth as if to say something then backed away, taking Giulia with him.
“Wait.” Luke pointed down a shadowed, cobblestone street. “If you go straight, make your second right and you will see a wooden sign for a small hotel. Ask for Francesca and tell her Dante sent you. She will take care of your room and board until you can earn enough wages to pay your own way.”
The boy’s brows drew together. “Is this some kind of trick?”
“I do not joke regarding favors.” He pulled several euro notes from his wallet. “This should take care of you both for the next couple weeks.”
“We don’t need your charity.” The boy snarled.
“I would say current circumstances prove otherwise. What about her?” He nodded at Giulia. “Do you think Giulia deserves this kind of life?”
“She has clothes on her back. We eat enough.”
“Her person is frail and such clothes shall not protect you through winter’s first week.” Luke rubbed his neck, considering. “I too have found myself facing difficult situations, but I warn you once. What you are doing is never the answer. If you insist, you may pay me back through Francesca. She will make arrangements.”
“Grazie, signore.” Giulia stepped toward him and accepted the money.
“Thanks.” The young man came forward.
He faced him. “Do not thank me. I could easily have damaged your person. If you choose a thief’s role, be prepared to pay the price. Next time, you might not be so fortunate.” He nodded at Giulia. “Take care of her. And take a bath. Several days’ stench makes for a terrible lover.”
The young man nodded and hurried away, linking his arm with Giulia’s.
“Nicely done. Almost Zorro-like,” Broderick said. “Dante is it? I’d applaud but you’d call me dramatic.”
“Yes, I would.” Luke glared as his close friend and private investigator, Broderick Sullivan, left the shadows and leaned against a wall. “Francesca prefers to call me Dante. She has always been fond of The Divine Comedy.”
“There is something fitting about it,” Broderick replied.
“Believe what you may.” Luke preferred not to delve down that path. He was not sure he agreed with Broderick or Francesca. Unlike Dante, his journey did not traverse beyond Hell’s realm. “You did not intervene. I know you wanted to. Why resist your urge?”
Broderick stared down the narrow street where the couple had disappeared. “You had everything under control.”
“You thought differently.” He had heard the uneven skip of Broderick’s heartbeat as he held the boy. His friend had not believed him capable of holding out much longer. Difficult to admit, that Broderick might be right. A shiver of unease worked its way through him but he shrugged it away. “Why did you doubt me?”
“You know why. Your problem is you won’t admit it.”
Luke shook his head. “I would like to think I would not have hurt them. They were young, desperate.” Still worth saving.
“They were thieves. Despite what you’d rather think of yourself, you’ve gone too long between killings. You know feeding is not enough for a pureblood.” Broderick stepped closer. “It’s not a game whether or not you choose to kill your victims. You don’t have a choice. If you keep pushing yourself like this, madness will drive you toward something you regret.”
“Something I regret.” Luke barked a sarcastic laugh. “Tell me what I do not already know. I choose my victims with a purpose. Are you saying I should let the memory of her die?” He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed. “Should Victoria have died in vain?”
“Your wife’s death happened unexpectedly, an unforeseen tragedy. Not a justification for murder. Especially one that happened over two hundred years ago.”
“Murder is never unexpected. Those men knew what could result from such harmful actions. I, however, cannot help what I do.”
“Oh yeah.” Broderick huffed. “You are what you are.”
“What do you expect? Each day, I live her murder like it happened the day before. I am a murderer by nature.” And always would be.
“Don’t blame nature. You’re a vampire. Your premeditation makes you a murderer by choice.”
“Enough. I pay you to bring me potential victims, not be their judge and juror. That is my role,” Luke said.
“A role you’ll fuck up if you don’t feed and kill in a timely manner. A vampire with a conscience is anomaly enough. If you want to live as guilt-free as possible, this world’s got plenty of scum awaiting your death sentence.”
“I’m not searching for a couple guilt-free millennia, I want complete freedom. Do you not understand I need to make a determination whether my victims are evil or not?”
“No,” said Broderick. “I don’t understand.”
“Because you have not been listening.”
“I disagree.”
“No.” Luke closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “This discussion is over.” Broderick’s words only grated on his nerves. “What new information do you have for me?”
Broderick hung his head. “Did you get my latest file upload?”
“I did receive the file. Still, I prefer paper. Did you bring it with you?”
“Yes. This is pretty much everything I have on Savannah Michaels.” He handed him a manila folder. “You better get with the times. I’m done killing trees for you.”
“You are full of sage advice today.” Luke accepted the folder and thumbed through the first couple pages.
“Dates wealthy men, volunteers at charity events, which high society women somehow feel obligated to do, and is obviously desperate for money since she answered my ad. This is fairly circumstantial. I have quite a bit of work on this one.”
“You don’t let me make it easy. If you’re looking for justifiable kills, I could bring you convicted felons.”
“No.” Each killing was as much a test for him as it was for his victim. He might be a monster but he needed to prove he could choose right from wrong, good from bad.
“As you wish.” Broderick brushed a hand back through his unruly waves. “People become who they are through experience,
