Giovanni (Blood Brothers Book 6)

BOOK: Giovanni (Blood Brothers Book 6)
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Giovanni

 

 

 

By

 

Eve Vaughn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

 

All trademarks, service marks, registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

 

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Giovanni

Copyright ©
January 2016
Eve Vaughn

E
lectronic book publication January 2016

 

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means without permission from the author,
Eve Vaughn
.

 

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means electronic or print, without the author’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in Federal Prison and a fine of $250,000. For more information regarding the government’s stance on copy
right infringement visit
:
http://www.fbi.gov/ipr.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

To my readers
who have supported me throughout my journey in completing this series. T
hank you so much for supporting me, and keeping me going. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this book as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.

Thank you Shayna and Wanda for holding things down for me when things get a little crazy in my life.

Thanks Mom for loving my books.

And Thanks to my Dad just because.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Steel stared at him with a shrewd narrowed gaze, as if trying to get a proper read on Giovanni’s state of mind.

Giovanni made sure to keep his thoughts firmly locked away from the warlock’s scrutiny. No one understood the dangers of this process more than him but this was something that needed to happen. For the past few centuries he’d taken up the dark arts in order to protect his family. He’d tried his best to use the magic sparingly but each time he did, he could feel it consume a part of him. There were times when his mind would completely slip away and he wasn’t himself. The blackouts and the need to kill and destroy, which had once been few and far between, were more frequent occurrences.

He was turning rogue.

Without the purge it wouldn’t be long before he became the monster he’d been fighting against all these years. He’d only began to practice black magic to combat his mother and older brother who had been practicing it for years. He needed it to keep them at bay and protect those who were at the time not old or strong enough to protect themselves. He had hoped that with these powers he could somehow defeat his mother and save his brothers. All of them. But one thing he discovered after he took up the dark arts was that one didn’t use such a force, it used you. He’d become its slave for half a millennium. It had been a daily struggle to hold on to his identity when it was clear that it had already consumed the one brother who needed saving the most.

Finally he nodded in response to the warlock’s question. “Yes.”

Steel Romanov raised a brow. “You’ve utilized black magic longer than most without losing your sanity which is no easy feat. It has essentially become a part of you. To separate you from it now could kill you.”

“I’m fully aware of the possible consequences. I knew the danger before I approached you. I also understood the price I had to pay in order to possess this power. If the cost of getting rid of it is my life then so be it. I would rather die than to have another life on my conscience.”

“Okay. We’ll do this now.” Steel nodded toward his brothers who were also in attendance. The two identical warlocks stepped forward. “In order to perform such a spell, it will take all three of us. I won’t go through the details of how this works because I’m sure you’ve already done your research. But once we start this there’s no changing your mind.”

Giovanni bowed his head in assent. “Of course.”

Cutter placed a hand on Giovanni’s shoulder. “And you know of the other….after effects?”

“Besides the fact that this spell could kill me? There’s something else besides that?”

Blade cleared his throat. “There are things worse than death.”

Giovanni looked at each of the brothers and wondered what they weren’t telling him. “What else I should know?”

Steel paused before answering. “The purification spell could kill you it’s true, but you’re quite old so your chances are good of surviving it. Besides death, this spell can also render you mortal. It’s my understanding that it could be temporary but it’s quite possible you’ll never be a vampire again. So I ask you again, are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Whether I survive this or not it’s a death sentence. I could either die now or of old age,” he mused more to himself than to the others in the room. He didn’t fear death. In fact he’d danced with it so many times over the past centuries that perhaps it was time to give his old friend a proper greeting. But before he finally met his maker there was one thing he had to do and that was to fulfill his promise to a friend. In order to do that he needed to cleanse himself of the evil that threatened to consume his soul.

Concern etched lines in Steel’s otherwise ageless face. “The decision is yours.”

The thought of finally finding peace was too much of a temptation to resist. “Yes. Go ahead and do it. I’m ready…no matter the consequences.”

 

 

Chapter One

“The surgery should have restored your sight. This is the third procedure since your accident and each one has been a failure. I had pinned my hopes on this last one because it’s so new and innovative but unfortunately, if you haven’t noticed a difference by now it’s not likely there will be any. I’m sorry Ms. Lewis, but I’m afraid that the probability is you’ll never see again.”

Sydney bit her bottom lip to hold back a cry. She’d been told before the surgery that her chances were 50/50 for a full or even partial recovery of sight but she had decided to go ahead with the procedure anyway. Never being one to live with “what ifs”, Sydney figured there was no harm in trying. She was already blind so there was no risk in losing vision she didn’t have. Though she’d prepared herself for this news, she couldn’t help but feel a stab of disappointment cutting through her heart. She promised
herself she wouldn’t get emotional if it was bad news.

“Ms. Lewis,” Dr. Wyncote began before breaking into a series of coughs. “Excuse me. Do you have any questions for me?”

She shook her head. “Not really. It’s just…I thought…well, when the bandages were removed shortly after the surgery, I saw light again and then shadows; I still do but it hasn’t improved beyond that. You’d told me then that it was a good sign.”

“That’s true
, which is
why I’m surprised no progress has been made.”

“So, there’s no more hope? Nothing else that can be done?”

A pregnant pause commenced before Dr. Wyncote answered. “I’ve consulted with my colleagues and even shared your charts with a few of the top ophthalmological surgeons in the country and believe me, if there was anything else I believed could be done, I’d be the first to inform you of it. But unfortunately there isn’t. Now, you’re welcome to get another opinion, and I encourage all my patients to do so if they’re not satisfied with my professional judgment, but I honestly think it will be a waste of your time. Keep in mind, I’m not the first surgeon you’ve consulted on this matter.”

Sydney bowed her head in defeat. No matter how much she’d prepared herself for this possibility it was still hard to reconcile. She’d been blind for that last ten years of her life but even as she relearned to live her life in darkness, there had always been that one thing that had kept her going. Hope. To relinquish it now was almost like losing an old friend. The fiery sting of tears burned her eyes but she refused to shed them. Not here. Not now.

Sydney took a deep calming breath before she could trust herself to speak. “You’re right, doctor. We did speak of this being a possibility before and I had prepared myself for the worst case scenario, but I guess hearing it in my mind versus hearing it in reality are two different things.” She let out a humorless snort.

“Ms. Lewis, I can understand your disappointment. It’s only natural because you’re human. I’ll admit that I feel a bit let down as well because you seemed like the perfect candidate for this procedure. I hate giving my patients bad news and I’d hoped this outcome would be different.”

“I know it’s not your fault. You’ve been great and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t know about half the programs available for a person with my disability. I’ve been able to live a mostly normal life.”

“It’s been my pleasure, Ms. Lewis. On the bright side, you seem to have adjusted admirably. You’re independent and seem to be navigating your life quite well.”

Sydney shrugged. “Well, as independent as I can be. I’ll never drive a car or see a proper sunset again, but hey, I guess I’m just lucky to be alive.” She didn’t mean to be so self-deprecating, but the thought of missing out on the beautiful colors in the world and being able to read a person’s expression, or even just
seeing the way the leaves rustled in the wind flayed at her spirit.

The scrapping of chair legs against the floor alerted Sydney that Dr. Wyncote was now standing. The soft foot falls against the carpet’s floor got louder before a
heavy
hand fell on her shoulder. “I know you’re trying to be brave, but it’s okay to be emotional now. Here’s a tissue.”

She reached out and encountered his other hand which was only inches away from her face before taking the offered tissue. Perhaps it was the gentleness of his tone that was her undoing, but the tears she’d valiantly tried to hold back came bursting forth like a flood. She’d never allowed herself the indulgence to cry over her disability because the same time she’d lost her vision was also when she’d lost her family.

Her life had not been anything out of the ordinary. She’d been a normal 19-year old home for the summer from her first year of college. She had a job at a local grocery store as a cashier in order to have a little extra spending money for her next semester in school. She remembered that day clearly. She’d worked a double shift and her feet had been killing her. After clocking out and leaving to catch the bus home, she was met in the parking lot by her parents and her sister. Her father had decided to take the family out to dinner that night and had wanted to surprise Sydney after her shift.

Sydney couldn’t remember a time when she’d enjoyed her family more. She and her younger sister Tara had looked on with smug expressions as their father had ordered the largest steak on the menu with the knowledge he’d be on the couch later with his top button undone and groaning that he was dying. Their mother just silently shook her head and muttered under her breath about him needing an antacid for later. The family had talked and laughed together and Sydney just looked on at them thinking how lucky she was to be a part of this loving group of people. None of them were perfect, herself included, but they were hers.

On the way home they’d stopped for ice cream and by the time they headed home Sydney had been truly stuffed and having worked all day, she’d drifted off to sleep in the car. The next thing she remembered was being jolted awake by the sound of an ear piercing scream—her mother’s. After that she’d felt the sensation of being violently jostled. The very last thing she saw before passing out was Tara’s bloody face.

It was still a vision that haunted her dreams although when she was awake, she was mostly surrounded by darkness. When the doctor had come by her bedside, she couldn’t understand why she wasn’t able to see. The news that she’d lost her sight however didn’t compare to the pain of knowing her parents and sister hadn’t survived the car crash. Apparently some teenagers had been joyriding and had lost control of their vehicle before plowing into her father’s car, shoving it into a busy intersection where it was hit three more times by oncoming cars. It didn’t make Sydney feel better to learn that they could have all possibly survived were it not for the last impact of a box truck or that the teenagers didn’t survive either.

Though she’d gone through the motions of having some semblance of a life after such a major loss, it had been difficult. Had it not been for the help of close family friends and people in her small town rallying around her, Sydney didn’t know how she’d make it through. Now ten years later, she felt that she was in a place in her life where she was content. She still missed her family desperately, but in the last ten years she’d managed to pull her life together and live independently. She’d learned to function with her disability and managed to handle herself well. Of course she relied on the help of others at times, but she didn’t know a single person in the world who didn’t require any help at all.

Sydney ran a boarding house which enabled her to pay her bills and to do something she loved which was playing music. She had friends, and loved taking on new adventures that most sighted people would be scared to try. Her life was fulfilling in a way she never thought it would be again, but her vision had always been something she believed she’d eventually regain. Now hearing that it was just an elusive dream, Sydney was crushed.

Dr. Wyncote tugged Sydney out of her seat and pulled her into his tight embrace. His thick arms were warm and comforting as she sobbed even more releasing years of frustration. “It’s going to be okay. I have every faith in you that you’ll do well.”

Though his words were meant to be reassuring they only served to make her cry even harder. She released all her pent-up emotions until her head ached and her eyes couldn’t produce anymore tears. Her entire body felt as if it had been plowed over by a bulldozer by the time she finished. Feeling physically exhausted, she practically wilted against her surgeon’s body.

He gently guided her back to her chair. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.

Sydney sniffed. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault,” she managed to get out. Her throat was sore and raw.

“Is there anyone out in the waiting to room to take you home?”

She blew her nose into the tissue she’d been clutching for dear life before answering. “No. I took the bus.” Sydney tapped the side of her watch.

It is 3:09 PM
, its electronic voice informed.

“Looks like my bus will be here in twenty minutes. I should get going.”

“Actually, you’re my last appointment for the day and I have no surgeries scheduled. I thought I’d take the remainder of the day off. I’d be happy to give you a ride home.”

She shook her head vehemently. Sydney was certain he didn’t offer rides to his other patients. He probably only did it out of pity. The last thing she wanted was for someone to feel sorry for her. She’d fought too hard for her independence for people to offer help simply because they felt bad for the poor blind woman. “Thank you but I prefer to ride to the bus. Besides I don’t want to take you out of your way.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

Sydney couldn’t keep the smirk from twisting her lips. She noticed he didn’t insist. Just as she suspected, he’d only offered her a ride to assuage some sense of guilt he probably felt. “I am. But thank you again. I should get going if I want to catch my bus on time.” She gathered her purse and cane and headed out the door.

Once she was out of the medical building, she released a heavy sigh as she raised her head to the sun. Though she could perceive the light, she couldn’t see the sky or the clouds. When she was little, her mom would yell at her, saying Sydney would ruin her eyes because she liked to stare directly at the sun. It had been her wish that she’d get a chance to see that beautiful star one more time.

But now she’d only ever see it in her dreams.

 

<><><><><>

Giovanni looked at the rusted number 127 on the weather-beaten mailbox that looked like it had seen better days. This was it. Ahead of him on a narrow dirt path rested a large white Victorian house with a screened-in porch. The expanse of green lawn it rested on was neatly manicured. On either side of the structure were large oak trees, one of which was sporting a tire swing. Despite the chipped paint and a couple of shutters hanging from the hinges, the house had a certain Southern charm that seemed to lend itself to lazy picnics on the lawn, or simply sitting on the steps sipping an ice cold drink under the unforgiving heat of the sun.

This would be his home for the next few months, or at least however long he was needed. He’d only studied this place from afar, and caught its owner from a distance, but now that he was actually here, he couldn’t bring himself to move toward the front door. He wasn’t sure what kept him rooted in the spot. No. He knew exactly why. Once he entered that house there would be no turning back. No matter what happened his fate would be sealed. The question was, could he handle it? Could she? Part of him wanted to turn, run and never look back, but he’d made a promise. And after all the shit he’d done in the past, he had a lot to atone for.

Squaring his shoulders, Giovanni took a deep breath and made the trek up the dirt path, moving as slowly as he possibly could. Once at the screen door, however, he noticed for the first time that the porch was occupied. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t seen the woman initially. Before he’d undergone the spell, her presence wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. But then again, there were a lot of things different about him now. He was still trying to get accustomed to the new man he’d become.

The old woman rocked back and forth in an oversized rocking chair that seemed to engulf her body. Lines intersected all over her sun-darkened skin, giving her the look of someone who’d lived many years. Her iron gray hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and the wrinkles around her mouth made it look puckered and a little mean. She stared at him with eyes small and dark like onyx, and it almost seemed as if she was staring right though him. There was a time when he could listen to the beat of a person’s heart and could tell by how strongly it beat how old that person was. His extraordinary sense of hearing was another casualty of the spell.

Her blank expression gave nothing away. Giovanni hesitated for a moment, waiting for the woman to speak, but when she didn’t he shifted on his feet nervously. He cleared his throat, unsure of himself for the first time since he could remember. “Uh, I’m looking for a Miss Sydney Lewis.”

The woman stared at him blankly, still not saying a word.

“This is her house, isn’t it?” He knew for a fact that it was but he wanted the verbal conformation so he could continue on with his task.

She continued to rock silently.

Perhaps the woman was deaf. “Is Sydney Lewis home?” he practically yelled the words.

The woman flared her nostrils and practically sneered. “I may be an old woman, but I hear perfectly fine.” The cadence in her voice was slow and sharp, blunting the charm of her southern lilt.

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