With the council's threat hanging over our heads like fallout from a dirty bomb, we walked the streets of Verona, each of us making attempts at benign conversation. When we hit the Ponte Pietra bridge, we ducked into a restaurant of the same name, welcomed by the host's friendly smile and seated at a table with a view of the Adige River. The romance of it took my breath away, but romance was currently fighting a battle with angst.

"What time does the train leave for Venice?" Sylvie asked.

"Five-fifteen," Vincent said as he hid behind his menu. "The trip takes just over an hour. We'll take a vaporetto to my rental."

"Cool. I've never been on a vaporetto." Sylvie glanced uneasily at me. I could tell she felt guilty about knowing too much.

The waiter arrived promptly, distracting us with drink orders, but an uncomfortable silence lingered in his absence, and I went ahead and did that soul searching Adamo asked me to do. Did I want to raise Vincent's children? Was he worried our child might sprout horns? Would I be a good mom? I glanced at Vincent to find him staring at me with a lost look. Adamo had hit him below the belt with the whole viable offspring crap. Was the lover's suite Adamo's way of saying 'Enjoy it while it lasts'?

Colin finally filled the void, leaning across the table on his elbows. "I'm sorry I was rendered mute in the hearing, Vincent."

"We already decided you would say nothing, to leave you completely inculpable," Vincent told him. "I knew you had my back."

"Um, are we still going shopping before we hit the train station?" Sylvie said, glancing tentatively between me and Vincent. "It's okay if you two don't feel like it."

"Of course, we shop," Vincent said. "That was on the agenda, right after enjoying a fine Italian meal with friends." He raised his glass of water and we all did the same, ignoring the elephant sitting between us.

My hand worked its way onto Vincent's knee and remained there until we finished our meals. Afterwards, we found a quaint shopping plaza and Vincent dragged me inside a jewelry shop, forcing me to look for something I liked.

"No rings," I said. "I don't want to freak my parents out."

"If you insist." I felt Vincent's grin against my temple as he stood next me at the jewelry case. "What about something with color? You've complained about all the black you're encouraged to wear. That Jaipur bracelet would look nice on your wrist."

He pointed through the glass at a mixed gemstone bracelet in turquoise, plum and olive, connected by delicate strands of gold. The tag attached showed the price clearly, and I blinked at it a couple times to make sure I got the numbers right. Both the bracelet and price were stunning. Apparently, I had been staring at it a good while.

"So, you like it?" Vincent said.

"Who wouldn't like it? I mean, look at those clean lines. And the color scheme is inspired."

"We'll take it." Vincent wore a smile that could have inspired world peace as he gestured to the sales woman, and I was left blinking again, only this time Vincent's twinkling eyes had me stunned.

"Hey Reese, look at these Jaipur earrings," Sylvie said, pointing them out. "Turquoise and amethyst set in gold. They'd pair nicely with the bracelet."

"Keep your wet dreams to yourself. I'm a simple gal," I told her, as I slipped my hand through Vincent's arm and followed him to the cash register.

"Aw, c'mon. you have a rich boyfriend. And amethyst is my birthstone."

"Then I'll buy them for you." Colin gestured to a second clerk who had been waiting in the wings, and the man rushed forward to accommodate him.

Sylvie squealed into her cupped hand and Colin grabbed her waist to spin her around. I watched our saleswoman cringe at their antics, but no one was arrested for destruction of property, and Sylvie and I walked out of the place with pretty things bought by our over-the-top boyfriends.

We caught the train at five-fifteen, and it didn't take long for twilight to set in, painting the landscape in pastel shadows. Vincent had taken to stewing next to me, which wasn't a surprise, and I snuggled against him as I whispered at his chin.

"What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

"Boris Seacrest," he grumbled.

"Oh, not him again. I'd like to evict him from your mind."

"Give it your best shot. All my efforts have failed." He glared at the seat back in front of us as he continued his moaning. "He said something to me that night in my office that makes more sense now. He said the stench of demon greeted him at the sidewalk. I thought he was insulting you and it sparked my anger. Now, I'm thinking he knew Christoph was nearby."

"Do you think he saw Christoph from the balcony? Maybe it influenced his decision to toss me overboard."

Vincent cringed as he shrugged his shoulder under my head. "Maybe. Not that it matters. He was looking for a fight and he got it. And now we know Boris' capacity for revenge knows no bounds. Despite the council's threat on our decision to mate, Boris lost this battle. Caleb will be representing the Seacrest domus in thirty days, which will make a world of difference when we visit your father in Chicago."

My head snapped up to get a good look at him. I needed to hear this story from his eyes. "We're visiting my father?"

"And your brother, if we can manage it without inciting a riot. Introductions will have to be handled delicately. The convent is there as well, where you lived with your mother and grandmother."

"It's also the place my mother stole the amulet from. If I can locate the secret door, I could return it to its rightful place. I know that's what your family wants me to do, once we find the amulet."

"That's totally up to you, and it puts you at the mercy of the demons, of course. It's a tricky situation any way you look at it."

He kissed the top of my head in a gesture I took as reassurance. I knew he would support whatever decision I made while battling every foe who came to our door, but some foes were intangible, and those could be the most destructive of all.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" I said.

"Of course."

"Adamo spoke to you in Latin at the end of the hearing. What did he say?"

Vincent's focus seemed to drift as he glanced up at the ceiling. "He said 'A hard heart can win battles, but it does not nurture life'."

"Hmm. What do you think he meant by that? Was he telling you to follow your heart?"

"I don't know what he meant exactly, but that's what I intend to do."

~ ~ ~

The first time I visited Venice, I knew it held magic, especially in the evening. Tonight was no different as I stood on the deck of the vaporetto behind Vincent's back, my hands tucked inside his coat pockets, using his massive frame to protect me from the chilly air. The sky had me intrigued as handfuls of stars blinked against a clear sky, while the city lights reflected yellow off the waterways like the ones that had fallen. I remained hyper aware of the bracelet dangling against my palm and how it had pulled a smile from Vincent despite his crappy mood. Maybe there was still a chance to save the romance of our trip.

The apartment turned out to be a one bedroom loft, which included a pull-out futon downstairs, and no privacy for anyone. I deemed the decorating style cozy European chic, busy but with enough white to make it feel uncluttered. The collection of bottles sitting inside a large wine rack didn't entice Colin, who immediately helped himself to an Italian beer from the fridge, holding another out to Vincent.

Dropping his carryon at the base of the stairs, Vincent accepted his brother's offer, opening the beer with the hem of his jacket as he leaned against the counter, watching me investigate my surroundings. Who was this woman Vincent had seen naked? This thought rattled through my brain as I brushed my fingers over the tassels of pillow shams and scanned the plethora of photographs lining the living room shelves. Most of them showed images of a gorgeous, dark-haired Italian woman posing with a handsome, olive-skinned Italian man. I did find a picture of Vincent among a collection of white frames, poised with his foot on a chair holding onto a suit jacket slung over his back. The picture looked like it came from a magazine.

"That is Isabella. She lives here," Vincent offered from the kitchen. "She's staying with her fiancé while we're here, so there's not much chance we'll see her."

"Are you worried I might get jealous and start a bitch throw down?"

Vincent quirked an eyebrow. "That depends. Would you be naked?"

"Oh, snap!" Sylvie said from her position next to Colin. "Someone's getting frisky."

"Sex is off the table tonight," Colin said, his face as serious as a judge. "Vincent and I already agreed. Out of respect for your privacy."

Sylvie and I looked at each other and busted out laughing.

Colin threw an arm up, nearly spilling beer on Sylvie. "Really, you two? Since when did women stop appreciating chivalry?"

"Since we stopped needing it," Sylvie quipped back. This earned her a playful smack on the butt from Colin's free hand.

Vincent picked up a sheet of paper from the counter and read it. "Looks like Isabella came through with the homemade lasagna."

"Yeah. I saw it in the fridge," Colin said. "Along with chocolate mousse, your favorite dessert, or has that changed?"

Colin smirked at Vincent, but Vincent didn't engage him, deciding instead to start dinner. Not long afterward, I was staring at my empty plate and cursing Isabella for being such a great cook.

"Well, I just gave the finger to my carb counter," I said.

"Vacations are supposed to be about not counting things, like the number of wine bottles you've opened." Sylvie held her glass out to Colin and he poured more wine into it. "I could get comfortable living a life like this."

"Get as comfortable as you like." Colin swooped in and kissed Sylvie, tipping her chair backward.

Vincent rolled his eyes. "I may have started an unhealthy trend."

Two bottles of wine had been polished off, most of it by Sylvie, when she and Colin crashed on the living room futon, while Vincent and I retreated to the loft. As we prepared to nap, I noticed every detail had been considered before our arrival; the freshness of the sheets, the newness of the soap, the little notes left next to the towels explaining which ones had been scented with lavender in case someone had allergies.

In the bed however, I couldn't help thinking about Vincent and his gorgeous Italian tenant getting frisky. Maybe on these very sheets. I lifted my arm to admire my new bracelet and let the unhelpful thoughts die away, just like Adamo wanted me to do with my bloodline.

"I've been thinking about something Adamo Ricci said." I whispered in the quiet, twisting my wrist to catch glimpses of the gold strands in the dark.

"I would be surprised if you weren't. What is it?"

"About letting my bloodline die with me. I never thought about it from that angle, being the one responsible for ending a family name. After Theo died, I started thinking more about my responsibility to carry on my mom and dad's legacy. They only have me now. Of course, my kids wouldn't be related by blood, but it's not just about blood, is it?"

Vincent listened intently, not offering his opinion on my rhetorical question or provoking me, just letting me speak.

"I never gave much thought to kids until I met you," I went on. "I didn't feel the pull with anyone else, like heart exploding love. I want to make you happy, not disappoint you."

Vincent reached across my chest and hauled me up until I was resting on top of him. Then he kissed my face, starting with my nose and speaking between each peck. "If we have kids... I will be happy... If we don't have kids... I will be happy... You have brought the happiness to me."