“First concern, those children. Second, I want both prisoners alive,” Valentino continued, this time with an edge of steel to his tone.
His men looked like a pack of wolves as she watched them from her vantage point. They came into the subdivision from every direction, guns looking like extensions of their bodies, showing all too much familiarity with those weapons. They were in good shape, moving fluidly, stealthily, straight toward the three-story apartment building.
Her eyes automatically sought out Valentino, the love of her life. Her heart did that curious melting sensation that annoyed her, but she was coming to terms with it when she saw him striding in the middle of the men trying to surround him, trying to cover him. Dario was there. She hadn’t started out liking Dario. In fact, she had regarded him with open hostility, but now he was family to her. She worried about his safety as much as she did about Valentino’s. Maybe more. Dario took terrible risks. He didn’t seem to care whether he lived or died, only about getting the job done. This job definitely was personal to all of them.
Vittorio ran his hand down the back of her head. “You all right, honey? You ready for what you might see in there?”
“As long as those children are alive, I’m good with what has to be done. Stefano said they were alive. Let’s get them out of there.”
“He’s a good man.” Vittorio stood for a moment, his gaze on Val. “We didn’t want him for you, Emmanuelle, because he’s hard as steel. He’s never going to bend when it comes to taking care of you. He’ll be like Stefano with Francesca or like me with Grace. You’re his world. His entire world. We look like we have different worlds, but really, they aren’t. You know that, right?”
She nodded slowly. “He is a good man. We have to be careful though. I know that we do. The shadows work differently for our families.”
“There will be times when he’ll have to make hard decisions you won’t always agree with, honey, but you have to back him up. You have to love him through them even though it hurts like hell to give up your freedom or choices. Promise me if you have trouble with that, you’ll come to me or Grace. We’ll help you. You can talk freely to us. I give you my word of honor. I’ll always be for your union, your marriage.”
She wrapped her arm around her brother’s waist, her gaze on her man as he got closer to the apartment building. In another minute, she would be in the shadow tube, taking that shadow right inside with the first wave of her family to dispense with as many of Miceli’s guards as possible at the entry points to clear the way for Valentino’s army.
“Thank you, Vittorio. That means the world to me.” It did. Having her brother give his word was huge. She’d never forget it, and more, she knew she’d need someone to talk to occasionally. She didn’t try to fool herself into thinking marriage to Valentino would be easy.
“Let’s do this,” Vittorio said and stepped into the shadow.
She followed him in, and the little feeder tube wrenched her apart, seemingly pulling her skin from her bones and her hair from her scalp. If she wasn’t careful, it would pluck her eyes from her head. How could she ever explain the sensations to Val, tell him what it was like inside a shadow, traveling at a high rate of speed? Explain that it was dangerous for a child, yet if he wanted his child to learn, that was exactly when it was best to teach them, when they were very, very young.
She barely had time to put the brakes on or she would have slammed into Vittorio’s broad back as he stopped in the mouth of the tube to orient himself before he chose his targets and another shadow inside the apartment in order to best help the coming army. The moment her brother was out of the way, Emmanuelle did the same, all business.
She removed three guards, one at a door, one at a window and one roving. She moved on to the next room. Her family went room by room, floor by floor. Already, Valentino’s men were inside, engaging with the enemy. She tried not to think about the sound of gunfire and the screams of dying men as she moved through the building.
The stench of mold and urine was sickening. The idea of young children being subjected to this horrible place disgusted her. The dog crates were on the second floor. The children had been put in various rooms, including bathrooms and closets, throughout the second and third floors. She counted nine boys. The oldest appeared to be ten, the youngest perhaps four. The conditions of the cages and the floor beneath them sickened her. Some of the boys had bottles of water inside the cage; others had none. The boys had bruises on their bare cheeks and legs and their dirty faces. Her stomach plummeted.