The Blood Burns in My Veins by Megan Derr

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

"Hatred is blind; rage carries you away; and he who pours out vengeance runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught."

― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

 

 

Two days later, the city would talk of nothing but the apparent disappearance of Ferro Acaues, that Selinah had been beaten half to death by a pack of bandits, and Hardegin-principe wanted heads, and he wasn't particular about whose.

Dante sat in a teahouse enjoying jasmine tea and listening idly to the gossip. Stories spun in every direction, from Ishikawa trying to eliminate the Ferro once and for all, to assassins disguised as bandits, to plots by the imperial throne. He even heard a few whispers of pirates, though no one took that idea seriously.

Mixed in with all of that were less zealous rumors about the city guardie being in trouble because of some skeletons that had turned up in the night, of people long missing who had clearly been murdered and buried and lost. People the guardie had insisted were runaways or suicides, but had been known to cause them problems back when they'd vanished.

Taking the brunt of the public's fury, at least of those who cared more about justice than sordid Ferro-Ishikawa rumors, were two men who'd risen through the ranks over the years, but had once been a couple of guards who could have easily saved a young boy's life, and instead had left him to suffer.

A tidy little side bit to his revenge not really as important as the rest, but if it exposed corruption in an organization that avowed itself just and honorable, all to the good. Verona was long overdue to have a great deal of rot scraped out.

The pieces were coming together nicely. Soon Janshai would do the greedy, stupid thing Dante had made so easy for him to do, and with that all the remaining pieces would come tumbling down. Soon it would all be over, finally and at last.

What he would do then, he didn't know, but he looked forward to finding out. There was always the Esposito lands he had yet to see.

A change in the tone of the room drew him from his thoughts, and damn his stupid heart for lurching the way it did as he saw the reason: Naoki, beautiful as ever in hose and tunic, rapier at his hip, a polite society version of Dante's more military broadsword—but still quite lethal, especially in the skilled hands of Ishikawa Naoki.

Naoki's face lit up as he finally saw Dante, and damn him for liking that entirely too much. He wasn't going to be stupid enough to fall for another fucking Ishikawa.

"Ciao, Dante-don," Naoki said. "May I intrude upon your tea?"

"You are never an intrusion, tesoro mio," Dante said, flirting even as he hated himself for doing so. After their evening together a few days ago, he should have severed ties once and for all. When he'd woke up and seen the sash Naoki had left behind, a long-established signal of I want to return, he hadn't known what to do.

Except carry on with his revenge. He'd worked too hard, waited too long, to give it up because he clearly had a stupid fucking weakness for pretty Ishikawas.

Anyway, it didn't matter. In a few more days his revenge would at last be complete, and he and Forthwind, and likely Brom, would be sailing away from Verona once and for all.

"Sit, please." He signaled a server to bring more tea and a tray of sweets. "How are you today? The city is quite abuzz with the latest Ferro tragedy."

Naoki's mouth twisted. "Yes. I almost feel sorry for Selinah, her face is so battered. She will not speak of what transpired, save to reiterate the bandit story she contrived, but…" He shrugged. "I prefer not to be involved, but it's hard to ignore when your family is at risk of losing their heads and your wife, despised or not, was beaten rather badly."

"I'm sure she gave back twice what she got, from what little I know of her, tesoro mio."

"True."

All around them, people were failing miserably at watching them surreptitiously, straining for any slip of words said too loudly.

Dante ignored them. He would not let a bunch of nosy bastardi drive them away from their tea and time together, like they had something to feel guilty about. Dante certainly carried no guilt over killing his father and a bunch of raping, murdering, thieving pirates. Naoki had done nothing at all.

Naoki smiled ruefully, meeting his gaze and seeming to glean at some of his thoughts. "I'm not used to being the Ishikawa anyone pays attention to.  Normally I can wander about as I please, completely unnoticed."

"You are many things, tesoro mio, but unnoticeable is not one of them. I should know; I tried and failed miserably not to notice you."

That got him an utterly delightful hitched breath. "I admit I sought you out hoping for distraction," Naoki said. "I went by your rooms, but they said you were out and pointed me in this general direction. This was the third place I tried." He nibbled at one of the sweets and chased it with tea. "I apologize if I'm being too bold."

Dante laughed. "Too bold? For me? Tesoro mio, surely you have noticed that I favor bold behavior. Bold everything. What sort of distraction precisely were you hoping I might be willing to provide?"

Dropping his voice even lower, so that even Dante could only barely hear the words in the crowded teahouse, Naoki said, "The kind where I dig my nails into those lovely shoulders of yours while you fuck me through a wall. Is that bold enough for you?"

"Yes," Dante said, alarmingly close to putting him over the table right then and there and damn the consequences. Knowing Verona, they'd be paid for the show and asked for an encore. He dropped several coins on the table and stood. "Let's go, unless you want to finish that tea first."

"Oceana take the tea." Naoki rose and followed him out, both walking sedately, calmly, as though off to do some shopping or perhaps attend a meeting somewhere, just another boring day in the life of the absurdly wealthy.

Dante led the way down the street until he found what he sought: an alleyway, dark and overlooked, deserted except for a couple of cats that were quick to flee. Then he turned, grabbed Naoki, and shoved him up against the wall, pinned his arms against it and shoved one of his thighs between Naoki's before finally claiming that perfect mouth. He tasted like jasmine tea and red bean sweets, his mouth warm and soft, those lips ravenous and greedy as they matched the fervor of Dante's kiss.

Reluctantly letting go of Naoki's pinned wrists, Dante shifted his attention to getting the bothersome hose out of the way. Even if they'd made it to his rooms, which was never really a possibility after Naoki's searing request, Dante never would have had the patience or wherewithal to treat Naoki to the long, thorough session he deserved. One day he was going to tie Naoki to his bed with silk cord and take him apart piece by piece, until—

Until nothing. It would never happen.

Determined to be rid of his own foolish thoughts, Dante poured all his effort into the kiss, into getting Naoki's hose pushed down far enough he could get at that delightful cock he would love to suck again, stroking it teasingly before questing further back.

Tearing away, he kissed and nibbled at Naoki's jaw, his fine cheekbone, the place below his ear that left Naoki melted. "Did you come prepared, tesoro mio?"

"Did you think I'd show up in a teahouse begging you to fuck me and not come prepared?" Naoki replied breathlessly, head tipping as Dante feasted on his throat. If only he could leave marks, a whole chain of them that said mine mine mine.

Dante took him at his word and pushed two fingers into his body, finding it slick and ready for him. Naoki moaned and tugged at his hair, nails biting into his scalp. "Get to work, you flamboyant bastardo, or are you not as bold as you claim?"

Withdrawing his fingers, Dante let go of him long enough to contend with his own clothes, pulling and pushing fabric until the voluminous folds were sufficiently out of his way. Then Naoki was back in his arms, back up against the wall, and Dante fucked into him with no warning, sinking deep into that tight heat with a groan he barely muffled in the hollow of Naoki's throat.

Naoki keened and arched against him. His hands had slipped inside Dante's loosened clothes, and as promised, he dug those sharp nails into Dante's shoulders, guaranteed to leave aching marks that would torment and thrill Dante for as long as they lasted. His legs were locked around Dante's waist, and his ornately arranged hair had fallen into disarray, part of it on his shoulder, some of it slumped over into his face.

Dante kissed him again, long and deep and hard, then drew back and shifted his grip so that he could, as requested, fuck Naoki through the wall. His muscles burned and sweat plastered his clothes to his skin, but it was worth it for every moan and plea, the way Naoki groaned his name as he came, leaving a mess across Dante's skin that thankfully his clothes would hide just long enough to reach his rooms.

He kept going, holding on by sheer force of will, lapping and sucking and nipping at Naoki's skin, thrusting hard and deep, taking and giving until he trembled with the strain and the need. Naoki bit his ear, and Dante tipped over the edge, thrusting into him one last time before coming apart in Naoki's arms.

The dangerous thought that there was no better place to be slipped through his mind, but Dante ignored it, stubbornly focusing on withdrawing and righting their clothes as best he could. They were both a mess, and there was only so much damage control they could do, but after several minutes they looked more or less respectable. "Did you want to come back to my room, tesoro mio?"

"Yes, desperately," Naoki said with a sigh. "I am expected at home soon, though, and Oceana alone knows when my honored stepmother will let me leave again or take one of her sleep tonics so I can sneak out."

Dante chuckled. "Well, you know how to find me, clearly, when you are free again." He kissed those well used lips, hating how well they fit against his own, how familiar kissing Naoki already was. He had learned his lesson, hadn't he?

It would seem not.

Withdrawing, he brushed a strand of hair from Naoki's face and stroked a thumb along one fine cheekbone. "Get going then, tesoro mio, before I have you on all fours, facing anybody foolish enough to look down this alleyway."

"Hahaha," Naoki said, and pinched him playfully before slipping away, but the flush to the back of his neck said he hadn't really seen the words as a threat.

Not really surprising that a man so long ignored and neglected might enjoy being the center of attention in such a delightful way. Dante would gladly do it, fuck him for all to see, to want and envy and never have, because Naoki was his.

Oceana, he really was the greatest fool in Verona.

Pinching his eyes shut, Dante focused on memories of Arata. His smile. His sweet demeanor. His dead body in Dante's arms, warm blood beneath them, soaking into everything. Every single betrayal that had led to ten long years of misery and nightmares. He'd waited fifteen years for his chance, suffering and waiting and planning. He would not throw all of that away now, not for a fucking Ishikawa, no matter how beautiful and compelling he was.

Focused once more, furious with himself for ever getting distracted from something so important, from something he'd waited so long for, Dante headed off to resume his revenge.

First, though, he needed to get cleaned and changed. Delightful though the alleyway encounter had been, he could not walk around disheveled and covered in Naoki's come.

He requested a bath as he entered the building, and once he reached his room, discarded his dirty clothes to have taken to a cleaner later. Through his years in prison, one of his many duties had been toiling in the laundry rooms. He remembered the smell of the soaps, the caustic chemicals for getting out more stubborn stains, the grabby hands of the guards… Once he'd gotten free, he'd vowed never to do laundry again. Just one of many promises to himself after surviving a decade of torment.

The bath came a few minutes later, a medium sized tub and several buckets of hot water, perfect for a quick afternoon bath. He thanked the servants and dismissed them, then set to work getting himself back to rights.

When he was clean, he pulled on black hose and a bright blue, sleeveless tunic ornately embroidered with tiny sea creatures over a sleeved undertunic of green, secured with a green and orange striped quarter sash at his hips. Buckling his sword belt into place, he then pulled his hair back in a tail at the back of his head. It would swing and bob about as he walked, drawing attention, but Dante was proud of his hair, even dangerously vain. Another result of his time in the Isola del tasso.

Once more ready for his day, he paused only to grab a quick bite from—

He stopped, a pork-stuffed bun halfway to his lips, as a knock came at the door. Sighing, Dante went to answer it.

"Beg pardon, Esposito-don, but this message was just delivered and they expressed urgency."

"Dōmo," Dante replied, taking it and handing over a coin. He slid the door closed again, frowning as he broke the wax seal on the paper and unfolded it.

My friend,

I need to see you at the shop about a matter most urgent and dire.

Yours,

H

Dante's frown deepened. What could possibly be wrong that Haru would describe it as dire? Well, only one way to find out. He jotted out a note for Forthwind, grabbed up a dark gray cape for when the weather turned chilly, pulled on his boots at the door, and headed out.

He hurried through the streets, brisk but without looking frantic, mind spinning with possibilities. It wouldn't be about Naoki, so it must have to do with Kumiko. But what? Had her father found out about the affair and locked her in her room or something? That seemed likeliest… but then why 'dire'?

Dante had never heard a whisper of Hardegin being anything but a demanding, impatient bastard who liked all problems to be simple and all solutions to be quick.

Reaching the shop, he quickly climbed the back stairs and knocked, calling out, "It's me."

The door immediately opened, and a frantic Haru, her face tear-stained, all but dragged him inside. "You came, thank Oceana. You have to help, I think he's going to kill her."

"Slow down, cara. Start from the beginning. I take it 'her' is Kumiko-donna?"

Haru burst into tears. "Yes! Her father discovered she was sneaking out! He fired the handmaiden who'd been helping her, literally threw her from the palace. Her arm is broken. The last she saw Kumiko, she was still in bed recovering from the beating her father had given her."

"Beating?" Dante's heart dropped into his stomach. "I've never heard a word of him being an abusive bastardo. I do not doubt you, cara, but tell me: are you certain?"

"On my life, Dante-don."

The guilt this time was impossible to ignore. He had never thought for a moment that Haru and Kumiko would receive more than a stern dressing down from their respective parents when the affair was discovered. Who didn't have reckless, impulsive affairs as a youth? It was a silly thing to get angry about, let alone beat your child over, even if you were saving them to be 'pure' for their future husbands.

"I will fix this," Dante said. "I made the mistakes; I will fix them. Where is this handmaiden?"

"I took her to the stable you told me about, since she's terrified to go home and couldn't pay for her arm. I took care of that, and more besides. I am sorry if I should not have gone there."

Dante squeezed her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "You did exactly the right thing, cara. You've a sound head on your shoulders. I will take it from here. You go home, or wherever you're supposed to be, so you do not get in trouble as well. If you need to speak with me but cannot yourself, go to Naoki."

"Naoki?" Her eyes widened. "Really? Naoki never does anything. His policy is to drink, sleep, and not get involved."

"Your brother is stronger than that, cara. He will support you. Tell him everything and tell him I am fixing this."

She nodded. "All right. Dōmo, Dante-don. You owe me, us, nothing, but even I know that interfering like this could get you killed. I don't know why you're doing it anyway, but I am grateful."

"I am the one who caused this, and unlike the rest of Verona, I try to fix my own messes."

"I'm still not sure I understand, but I suppose questions can wait. Dōmo, Dante."

He hugged her briefly and then headed back out, mind spinning spinning, guilt gnawing at his stomach like a hungry dog with a scrap of meat. Everything he'd done, every scrap of research, had affirmed for him that Hardegin was not the sort to beat people, let alone his own daughter.

He had been wrong, and he was not the one who would pay the rest of their life for that mistake. No, it was Kumiko, the poor handmaiden, who would bear the scars, the bad memories, the nightmares…

Oceana damn him to the depths, this was not a mistake he should have made. Recrimination would have to wait, though. First there was a young girl to save.

He blazed through the entrance to the stable yard, the door slamming shut behind him, and nearly barreled into Forthwind. "I got here as quickly as I could, Dante."

"Ciao, caro, you are as impeccable as ever. Let's go see Brom and his new houseguest." He hastened inside and followed Brom calling his name to the back of the house to one of the bedrooms.

A woman lay on a bed, Brom at her side holding her hand, which looked to be about the only part of her that wasn't injured in some fashion. Dante wanted to hit something. Wanted to kill that bastardo Hardegin, and by Oceana he would.

First, though, he had to fix his mistakes and save people who never should have been hurt. "How is she?"

"He threw her off a balcony," Brom said, voice filled with bitterness and loathing. "She landed in some shrubbery, I think is what she said, otherwise she'd be dead. Her left arm is broken in two places, her right ankle twisted, and she's got a nice collection of cuts and bruises, two of which required stitches, but the stregone del cuoro said she would be fine with time and plenty of rest. Physically, anyway. Why would he do such a horrible thing? Just terminate her employment and have her escorted from the palace. I don't understand…"

"Be grateful you don't understand the hearts and minds of such men, topolino. What you already know about them is more than enough."

Brom made a face and didn't argue.

"What else can you tell me?"

"She tried to relate the whole tale to me, but she was pretty far gone on pain and then medication. What I could parse, though, it went something like… two days ago Kumiko returned from an assignation with Haru. Reina here, one of her handmaidens, has been helping her sneak out and covering for her. I do not know how Hardegin-principe found out, but he did, and came at Kumiko tonight in a rage. He somehow also knew that Reina had been helping, because when she rushed in to try and protect Kumiko, Hardegin grabbed her and threw her. Some servants managed to get her out of there, and she went to find Haru, who brought her here before going to contact you. The rest you know."

"Dante…" Forthwind said quietly.

"Yes," Dante said. "This is my fault. All my research, all my investigating, not a single bit of it even hinted that Hardegin was capable of this sort of violence. Even now it doesn't fit everything else about him."

Brom snorted derisively. "It does if he enjoys illicit substances. Papavero might make people dreamy, but there are other substances that can do the complete opposite. When you start combining them…" He shook his head. "I saw it many times at Blue House."

"Doesn't matter," Dante said. "I should have caught that. Keep me updated on Reina-san. I'm going to do some reconnaissance."

Forthwind followed him outside. "Let me come with you."

"As much as I prefer to have you at my back, right now I need you here more, caro. In case something more goes wrong, if Haru needs us further. I don't know how long this will take. I'll be back as soon as possible, or try to send word if I'll be longer. Do not expect me until morning, though."

Forthwind grimaced. "Fine, but I don't like it."

"Protect them."

"I will."

Dante hurried off, taking one of the recently purchased horses. It would draw more attention, but he was more interested in getting across Verona to the royal palace. When he got much closer, then he would worry about discretion.

The weather, thankfully, worked for him, dark clouds swiftly overtaking the sun, and by the time he reached his first destination, he only barely managed to avoid the deluge.

Handing off the horse to a waiting hand at the public stable he'd stopped at, Dante ducked inside long enough to discard his cloak, bind his hair up out of the way, and buy an umbrella off the stable master. He paid the woman well, then headed off into the deluge.

The imperial castle loomed ahead, unusually tall in a place where buildings seldom went higher than two levels. The palace was at least four, and he rather suspected all the frippery along the top hid a fifth level.

Public rooms took up the entirety of the first and second floors. Private offices and the like the third. The private residence of the imperial family would be on the fourth. A pity he had not been able to bring Forthwind; he was a much better climber.

Ordinarily, Dante would just employ his usual methods: lies, charm, and obscene amounts of money. Today, however, he could not afford to be noticed—remembered.

A high stone wall surrounded the palace, and in front of that was a ridiculous, purely-for-show moat filled with rainbow koi and other showpiece fish.

It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for: the half-circle hole in the wall that allowed water to drain from the courtyard straight into the moat. It was also toward the back of the courtyard, well out of sight of visitors and even most regular workers, which meant Dante would be out of sight as well, especially in all the rain.

Stashing the umbrella in some hedges, he slipped into the water and swam across. It was just a little wider than he was tall, which was enormous in a place where fresh water was a precious commodity, and just added fuel to the fire burning in his chest.

As he reached the drainage circle, he heaved himself up and through, though it took some doing as his shoulders did not like the tight fit. Pushing to his feet, soaked and now slightly dirty, he headed around the palace to the gardens.

Just as he'd hoped, this side of the palace, meant to accommodate the residents, had far more accessibility, including balconies. That was probably not how Kumiko slipped out to meet with Haru, but Dante didn't have time to figure that out right now. Sometimes the oldest and simplest methods were the best.

He studied the balconies, all of which had awnings so they could still be used in rainy weather. None of them were currently occupied, but many of them were open to enjoy the cool air the rain brought.

Three balconies were closed. One was so bare the room it belonged to might be unoccupied. One was bedecked heavily with expensive flowers. Another had a chair, table, and other miscellany like it was heavily used by a single person to relax. All three were on the fourth floor.

Making his choice, Dante crept up to the building, took one last look around, and then climbed. Easier said than done, especially with the rain making everything slick, but if he could climb up a muddy, rocky embankment in the rain and dead of night after sewing himself into a body bag, he could do this.

Of course, by the time he reached his destination, his limbs were on fire, whole body trembling from the exertion. As fit as he was, as hard as he'd worked to ensure he'd be fit as he destroyed the biggest Houses in Verona, a four-story climb up a slippery building in the rain was no easy feat.

Sloughing what water he could to reduce the signs of his visit that would be left behind, Dante then crept along the empty balcony and gently tried the door, which was continental in style, because Hardegin definitely seemed that pretentious. Locked, of course. Reaching into his left boot, he withdrew one of the lockpicking tools he kept there, knelt, and swiftly set to work.

He had the door opened in seconds, the lock a not very good one, clearly trusting more to the height to protect the occupants.

As no one had come to see what all the noise was about, it was relatively safe to assume that Kumiko was alone. Dante drew his mano sinistra anyway before turning the handle and pushing the door inward. Keeping low he crept into the room.

"Who are you?" a soft voice called, hitching with tears and pain.

"Have you company, duchessa-donna?"

"No. You're the one from the teahouse. You gave me the note at the ball."

Dante sheathed his mano sinistra and closed the balcony door. Though he hated the risk involved, he removed his boots there so the mud and water would stay on the tile and not track across the costly rugs.

He then approached the bed, and rage filled him anew as he took in Kumiko's battered, bruised, and bloody face. "I am so sorry, stellina. This is all my fault."

"It's not," she said, the words bitter, sad, and far too wise for a girl of sixteen. All too often in their world, that was how many girls sounded. Seldom were they given the chances to play and simply be that the boys were. "Whatever you did or didn't do, Esposito-don, he did not have to beat me nearly to death. Nothing I did warranted that." She sniffled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. "He's never done this before. Never. Slapped me a few times, but usually he just yells a lot, rants and lectures for hours, and then locks me in my room for several days. And he killed— He killed—" she burst into tears. "I can't think about it, or I will go mad, but he killed—"

"Reina is all right," Dante said quietly, pulling a kerchief from his sash and gently dabbing at her face. "She has a broken arm and plenty of bruises of her own, but she is safe and tended right now."

Kumiko cried harder, even though the sobbing must be horrible for her wounds. "Thank Oceana. He threw her, just threw her, like she was a doll or something. Then he had everything taken off my balcony and locked me up and has forbidden anyone at all to come in here. He supervised as a stregona del cuoro tended me and had food left at the door, but that was all."

Dante had intended only to do reconnaissance, so he could form a proper plan for getting her out in a couple of days. But looking at her, hearing her sobbing, the out of character and shockingly brutal behavior of Hardegin-principe…

"What are you doing here?"

"Haru told me you were in danger, and as it is my actions that led to this mess, it is my actions that will fix it," Dante replied. "I am getting you out of here, no matter what it takes. How much can you move?"

"He didn't break anything, just bruised it all quite badly." That bitter laugh again, far too much cynicism in one so young. "He would not want me to be damaged goods for King Vorgin, after all. What good is a wife who can't satisfy her husband and bear his children?"

"Ah, stellina, I am so sorry. You should be allowed to be young. Come, then. This is going to hurt greatly, but I dare not risk leaving you until I can come up with a better plan. Do you have any pain tonics?"

"I just took one hoping it would allow me to sleep. Things hurt, but not as sharply. I can take more, though it will require several minutes to start working."

"Bring it with you, and take it when I tell you."

"Si, Dante-don."

"You can drop the honorifics, stellina. We are family now, you and I, united by the fact our blood families don't deserve us. Now come, let us get you dressed. If there is anything you cannot bear to leave behind, grab it. We must be quick, though. Are there guards?"

"I think a few are outside, but I haven't been able to see them, as the door is locked from the outside. I can hear them sometimes. How are we going to get past them?"

"Leave that to me. Can you get dressed on your own?"

"Yes." Lifting her chin, holding herself tightly to try and hide her trembling, Kumiko limped over to her changing room.

Dante went to the main door and knocked on it.

There was cursing on the other side, and then it was shoved open—and Dante slammed his fist into the man's face, yanked him in, and snapped his neck. By that point the other guards were rushing down the hall, and it was a moment's work to take care of them as well. Sloppy of them to be so ill-prepared, but they'd paid for the mistake.

Returning to the room, he was met with a pale-faced Kumiko, dressed in men's hose and tunic with a satchel slung across her chest. "I'm ready. Are they… are they dead?"

"Yes. Do not look at them. Wait by the door." As she obeyed, Dante went and fetched his boots, yanking them back on before hastening back to the hall door. "How do you normally sneak out?" He dragged the dead guards into the bedroom, snatched up the key one of them had dropped, locked the door, and then pushed the key under the door. It would not prevent discovery, but it would slow matters down significantly.

"Servant stairs, there." She pointed down the hall to the only door that wasn't as ornate as all the others. "He probably has guards there too, though."

"Stay behind me, do whatever I tell you without hesitation or questions, understand?"

"I do."

"Good." Dante smiled briefly, then drew his sword and mano sinistra. Opening the door without letting go of the dagger, he slowly stepped inside. All clear. Not even a servant hiding away for a moment of peace and quiet. He jerked his head at Kumiko, and down they went. Every now and then he heard voices or steps, but Oceana was with them because no one else entered the stairwell.

As they reached the ground floor, he saw two doors. "Which one?"

Kumiko pointed and Dante opened it, revealing the garden. "Normally we then go out a side entrance and down the alleyway, but he must have that locked and heavily watched. I don't think even you could get through all of them, not without drawing more attention."

"We'll go my way then." Dante sheathed his weapons. "Take your tonic."

Reaching into her satchel, Kumiko drew out a delicate looking blue glass bottle, removed the stopper, and took a generous swallow.

"Hold tight, because this will hurt. I'm going to pick you up and carry you now. Then we'll have to swim across the moat."

"I'm ready."

True to her word, she made not a sound past a hitched breath as he gently picked her up, carrying her like a child as he plunged into the rain. He caught a hint of a person in the corner of his eye, but they were well off on the other end of the garden, and if they'd noticed anything at all, they'd likely assume a couple or someone dealing with a drunk or sick person. People always looked for easy explanations, and most of the time they were right. That made it easier to deceive them when there was a rare exception.

When they reached the drain, he gently set her down again. "Can you go through it?"

"I think so," she said. "I won't be able to do it quickly, though. You may want to go first and pull me through."

"Very well." Dante pushed his way back through the tight fit and slid into the water, bracing himself against the wall so he had leverage for pulling.

A few minutes later she was through, quietly crying but pushing onward. Dante had never admired someone so much. She was a haunting reminder of himself at that age, as he was shipped off to the Isola del tasso and his life turned into a nightmare. If anyone ever again laid so much as a finger on her, Dante would kill them.

Once they were out of the moat, he scooped her up again and headed back the way he'd come. Roughly a block or so from the stable, he set her down. "Stay here, down that alleyway out of sight. I will return very soon."

Though she looked terrified, Kumiko only nodded and obeyed, slipping down the indicated alley and hiding behind some empty crates.

Dante darted off to the stable and called for his horse. One of the hands sitting around an old barrel playing cards promptly rose and went to fetch it, returning in mere moments. Dante handed him two coins, well over what was owed for the brief time Dante's horse had been there. "For your trouble."

"Si, Tani-don," the man said, and dipped his head briefly, conveying he understood what was not being said.

Dante mounted and rode off, but the lump in his throat did not ease until he reached the alleyway and called for Kumiko, who immediately came limping toward him. He dismounted and helped her up onto the horse, made certain she was as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, and then they were racing off back across Verona to Brom's stable.