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Dominique, would he kill him for sport if we took too long to show our faces? If Renata couldn’t sense Dante, our best chances of knowing what had happened to him rested with Dominique; that I was sure of.
    But I was not queen. Renata was, and if she wanted to wait, we bloody well waited. I bowed slightly and said, “As you will, my lady.”
    Vito and Vittoria remained at their posts by the doors, neither saying a word in agreement or disagreement. Given our low numbers without the others’ aid, I did not think they disagreed.
    What seemed an hour later, though it was probably far less, Anatharic and Vasco returned only a few moments before the others to announce that they had indeed found Vasco’s Stregherian witch. Iliaria manifested with Nirena and an unfamiliar woman I pegged as the witch.
    Renata had taken her seat in the high-backed chair in her room. Had we not been under attack by Damokles and his henchmen, I knew she would have preferred to greet the witch elsewhere, as it was more politically correct. Yet, we still did not know if Damokles remained within the Sotto. Cuinn, of course, did not sense anything. When I pressed him to explain why he could not sense anything, he pointed out the fact that Damokles had been working with a witch and that there are many ways to cloak one’s presence. It made enough sense that I let it go.
    “My queen.” Vasco knelt before Renata. “I introduce you to Savina, the Stregherian witch of whom I spoke.”
    Savina was a woman of modest beauty. If I had not known she was one of the Stregha, I would have thought her no more than a mortal woman. She was not as striking as many of the Rosso Lussuria. The thick mane of her dark hair was bundled and clasped at the back of her head. Her honey and olive kissed skin was garbed in a simple dress the color of deep merlot. The curves beneath the material were lush and soft; she was not portly by any means, but her hips widened slightly by the fullness of age and motherhood, and I wondered how many children she had.
    The witch moved to kneel beside Vasco where Renata could see her fully. Her voice, when it came, was smoky and heavily accented.
    “You seek my aid, Queen of the Rosso Lussuria?”
    “Rise, both of you,” Renata said and they did so. Savina was not so much taller than I, perhaps an inch or two. “Will you aid us?” Renata asked her.
    Savina said, “I am here, am I not?”
    “You sound none too thrilled about that,” I spoke without giving thought to my words. I moved where Savina could see me.
    Her lustrous gaze met mine, and even with the distance between us, the blood in her veins sang a sweet siren song of life and crimson promise.
    It had been many years since I had been in the presence of a woman who was truly alive. I had no doubts in that moment that, immortal or no, the Stregherian witches were human enough.
    “Colombina, are you well?” Vasco asked.
    I hadn’t realized how intensely I was gazing at the drum that beat in the side of Savina’s neck. With an effort, I peeled my gaze away.
    “I believe your vampire wants to take a bite of me,” Savina said.
    “I am well,” I said, addressing Vasco.
    “Yet, you do not deny the call of my blood?” she asked.
    I straightened my spine and met the look of challenge she gave me unflinchingly. “Should I? I am what I am. I am a vampire, and witch or no, you smell very much like a feast.”
    Iliaria cleared her throat, I think to disguise a laugh.
    “You’d do well keeping in mind what I am when you begin to think I smell like your supper.”
    I inhaled a slow breath to steady myself, inhaling flickers of emotion permeating from Savina.
    Her words had been harsh and what lay behind them was harsher: complete and utter distaste.
    “She does not want to be here,” I said.
    “And who are you to speak my mind?”
    “Now it is you who wishes to take a bite out of me. If you are so displeased, why are you here?”
    Savina opened her mouth to speak when my