He could have kissed her for hours, and he swore to himself that he would, once he made sure she and her family were safely returned to Rome.
Sensing they were no longer alone, Savage turned his head and found Scythe standing there. Christ, the male might be immense and formidable, but he moved like a wraith.
He held out his left hand, a vehicle starter in his palm.
“What’s this?” Savage asked, pivoting to face the former Hunter. The key fob was for a Range Rover—a new one, by the look of it. Scythe handed it to him.
“The truck you arrived in might get you where you’re going, but this will be better.”
“I left that vehicle half a mile away at the church. How the hell did you know what we were driving?”
Scythe didn’t answer, and Savage figured there was a lot about the reclusive male and his methods that would remain a mystery. Instead of pressing him, Savage slipped the welcome gift into his pocket.
“Thank you.”
Scythe gave him a faint nod.
“We’re ready!” Chiara called from behind them. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
The petite brunette had her son’s little hand grasped in hers as she approached from the other end of the corridor. As they drew closer, Savage felt a cold shift in the air. He didn’t realize what it was until he looked at Scythe and saw that the male had gone utterly still. His onyx eyes were stark, almost haunted, beneath the harsh slashes of his black brows.
Chiara must have felt the chill too. She glanced up nervously at Scythe, practically tugging dark-haired Pietro along when the boy’s steps began to slow in front of the big Gen One.
But the child didn’t seem to have any fear for the sinister-looking male. His feet halted in front of Scythe, his little head tilting up to stare in unabashed awe. “How’d you hurt your hand?”
Chiara and Bella both sucked in their breath. Hell, even Savage felt a jolt of unease as Scythe’s hard gaze slowly descended to look at the boy. When he spoke, the male’s deep voice was as unreadable as his stoic face.
“I tried to help someone a long time ago.”
By the male’s grave tone, Savage assumed his hand wasn’t the only thing Scythe lost.
“Come on, Pietro.” Chiara gave her son’s hand a small tug. She looked up at the big male, her cheeks flaming with color. “I’m sorry. He’s just starting to learn about manners.”
Scythe shrugged vaguely, but his bleak eyes lingered on the pretty Breedmate. “It’s all right.”
Savage cleared his throat. “We should get moving. It’s past sundown now, and we have a lot of time ahead of us on the road.”
As he spoke, the faint sound of a woman’s scream went up somewhere in the distance outside the sassi. Scythe heard it too. His dark head jerked to instant attention.
Just as another shriek sounded—this one closer and belonging to a man.
A man who was screaming for his life.
Savage’s blood iced over with dread. “What the fuck?”
Scythe drew a phone out of his leather trench coat and brought something up on the display. His curse was guttural, vibrating with fury.
“Rogues,” he said grimly.
He turned the device so Savage could see it. On the screen was live video from several different cameras positioned in Matera’s city center. The surveillance showed humans racing in all directions, while a group of Rogues—he counted half a dozen in just the few seconds he watched—poured into the streets on the attack.
“Oh, my God,” Bella gasped, her terror-filled eyes rooted to the small display.
It wasn’t the first time in recent weeks that a city had been overrun by blood-addicted vampires. Thanks to Massioni’s proliferation of Red Dragon, the narcotic that had turned scores of the Breed into Bloodlusting animals, violence like this was becoming almost epidemic again in many parts of the world.
Savage cursed viciously.
So much for leaving any time soon.