Inferno(74)

Dom and Gino exchanged a glance. ‘Uh-oh,’ droned Dom, grinning. ‘Looks like Sophie and Luca had a prison date without Nic …’

‘Shut up,’ I hissed.

‘Calmati.’ Luca came back to himself and clapped Nic on his back. ‘Don’t read into it, brother. It was nothing.’

‘Yeah. It was nothing,’ I added, hardening the words.

Nic squared his jaw. He was staring at Luca like he might want to set him on fire, and I felt the tension in the room soar. Only Dom was finding it funny. An hour. I would have to wait an hour for this Council, whatever it was. And I would have to do it under this stupid cloud of testosterone.

I went to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and update Millie. I felt calmer, better, focused. I just had to stay alive and keep the people I loved close by until it was all finished – until Donata was dead. I tried not to dwell on the possibility that the Falcones might slip up – that their counter-plan, whatever it turned out to be, might not work, that Jack would rally in anger and still come for me. I tried not to think about Sanctuary being denied to me, about my mother and me having to face all of this alone.

When I made my way back to the foyer, everyone had scattered. I followed the hallway on the right, tracing the rumblings coming from the belly of the house. Halfway along the corridor, I pushed a door open, following the shouting. The room was huge, with an array of gaming equipment inside – dartboards, punching bags, a foosball table, a pool table and a stereo system. There were couches and beanbag chairs around the walls, and three large diamond-crossed windows looked out on to the swelling storm.

In the middle of the room, Dom and Nic were running circles around each other. Felice and Luca were leaning against the wall, watching them with the casual interest of passing spectators, and Gino was reclining in a beanbag chair, eyes half-closed.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked Luca, just as Nic flipped Dom flat on his back. There was a heavy thump and Nic’s triumphant laughter split the room apart.

Luca indicated the little muddle of testosterone. ‘Relatively safe conflict management in a house of assassins,’ he explained. ‘Whenever we have an argument, we take it to the sparring room. When there’s a winner, it’s over.’

‘What were they arguing about?’

Luca didn’t answer me.

‘Dom has a loose mouth,’ supplied Felice. ‘And you’re an easy target.’

‘Oh,’ I said. Asshole.

Dom was back on his feet. He took a swing at Nic. Nic blocked his head with his hands and Dom used his distraction to swipe his foot across Nic’s legs, almost toppling him off balance.

‘Watch your knees, Nicoli!’ shouted Luca, betraying how interested he really was in the scrapping. ‘Don’t worry about your face, bel ragazzo!’

‘No helping!’ yelled Dom, coming at Nic again. This time he was shoved backwards, his shoes squeaking across the wood as he tried to keep from falling.

Felice was entranced by the fight. ‘Nic’s too heavy-footed,’ he muttered to Luca.

‘He’s stronger than Dom,’ Luca countered. ‘Soph, what do you reckon?’ he asked, turning to me. I had been checking the time on my phone, trying to keep the anxiety from fluttering into my throat. It was getting late, the humidity was tortuously high, and I wanted to get home before it broke. I wanted to be out of Cedar Hill before the storm came.

Did he just say Soph?

‘I think Nic will win,’ I said, trying to appear calmer than I felt just then. ‘But that’s mainly because I want Dom to lose.’ I was hoping Nic would knock him flat on his face and then I would point and laugh at him and shout Ha! You suck, Dom Falcone!

‘Watch your knees!’ Luca yelled again. ‘That’s his tactic!’

‘Stai zitto!’ Nic hissed, springing towards Dom and trying to tackle him at the waist. They started grappling with each other and I saw Nic’s head snap up and register me for the first time. He pulled backwards, balancing on the balls of his feet like a boxer.

Luca dipped his head close to mine, and I watched Nic’s face change as he glanced over. ‘Maybe if Dom shakes his head hard enough, he’ll spill enough of his hair gel to trip Nicoli up,’ he muttered. ‘And then I’ll be down a hundred dollars.’

My laugh escaped me in a loud, obnoxious wheeze and I had to clap my hand over my mouth to stop the noise. Nic was looking at us again.

Luca raised two fingers and pointed them at his eyes. ‘Focus, brother!’

It was too late. Dom had rounded on Nic, and was coming at him from the side. He clasped his head underneath his arm and wrestled him to the ground. ‘Tap out!’ shouted Dom, his order flying away with laughter. ‘I got you! I win!’