A Dance of War - Ellie R. Hunter Page 0,23

stole from her was justified. And the first time we slept together, it was as if our souls connected in the most intimate way possible.

I can’t let myself think about that night in the old rundown cottage on the edge of the city where I gave her my virginity, and she gave me hers. Had I known that morning it would be the last time she smiled at me, I would have taken her far away and kept her with me forever.

My eyes fly open when alarms around my mother’s bed start to go off, but she lays as soundly as she has for the last ten years. Punching the button on the wall for the nurse, I grab my mom’s hand. As soon as I do, her eyes snap open, landing on me.

What the fuck?

“Mom?”

Chills prick my skin when her grip tightens around my hand.

“Fire and burning bones. All the people in Vita wearing black. Blue eyes weeping. Fire and burning bones. All the people in Vita wearing black. Blue eyes weeping. Fire and burning bones. All the people in Vita wearing black. Blue eyes weeping.”

Her hand goes limp as her head falls back against the pillow. Her eyes drift closed, and the alarms shut down. Hovering over her bed, the only thing out of place is her arm hanging over the edge. Numbly, I straighten her up, and by the time the nurse rushes in, everything is as it was.

“What is it, Mr. Marocchi?” she asks, out of breath, tightening the belt around her robe.

“Didn’t you hear the alarms going off?” I snap, still looking over my mother.

“No.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her walk over and tinker with the machines.

“They haven’t gone off, sir.”

Her confusion only adds to my own. My mother now sleeps as she’s done for a decade, and I step away from the bed.

“I’ll have them checked over in the morning.”

“I want her sent for scans in the morning. I want to know if her brain activity has changed.”

“C-Certainly, Mr. Marocchi.”

Heading for the door, my mother’s words replay in my head, and I stop. I haven’t had one drink. My frame of mind is clear. I know that shit just happened.

Is this another vision? Turning to the nurse, I say, “Forget what I said. I want someone sitting with her at all times unless I’m here with her.”

With a nod, she begins straightening my mom’s sheets as I turn once more to leave.

Fire and burning bones. The people of Vita wearing black. Blue eyes weeping. I don’t need to be a genius to figure out the vision is of someone’s death.

Chapter Eight

Raphael

With the sun being brutal today, I kneel under the shade of the oversized roof well. My father would say love makes you reckless, and today, I would have to agree with him. Slinging my arm around the post, I scan the trees on the Camarco estate, waiting for Mila. I’ve been all over Vita, but the Camarco estate is the one place I never intended to visit. But there’s no chance I’d waste when it comes to seeing her.

She’s everywhere I go, in my mind and in my heart, but my memory doesn’t do her beauty justice as to when I’m with her. Needless to say, if I’m caught here, this is where I’ll die. But she’s worth the risk a thousand times over, especially if her face is the last I see to take with me to the other side for all eternity.

She’s in my dreams every night, and she’s there when I wake in the morning. Images aren’t enough, though. They don’t give me the rush I feel seeing her with my own eyes or holding her against me. They only tide me over until I can get to the real thing.

She appears from between the trees, shading herself with a white lace parasol that matches her white and yellow summer dress. Her hair is braided on either side of her head, no doubt to keep her cool in this unbearable heat.

It’s a shame I won’t be able to run my fingers through her soft locks today, but there’s so much more of her I can feast upon.

When she’s closer, I get to my feet, standing just where the shade ends, and grab her parasol. Closing it, I lay it against the old well. Her giggle as I reach for her hand and pull her against me is like music to my ears, the urge to kiss

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