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Fratelli: The Awakening (The Vampire Cartel #1) 32. Songbird 52%
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32. Songbird

Chapter 32

Songbird

H enderson, Nevada

April 14, 2018

(8 Days Before Death)

The interior of the estate sharply contrasted with the House of Draca. Pristine white floors and glacier-white walls magnified the light, banishing any darkness. Dolly sparkled as she moved, her mini dress accentuated her curves, her curly hair cascaded past her shoulders.

Lucio trailed her like a lovesick puppy, as she flitted from room to room, her scent lingered behind. Each door she opened revealed another elegantly furnished space: grand dining areas, entertainment lounges, and luxurious rooms.

When the couple stepped onto the balconies, which stretched the length of the estate, they were met with breathtaking views of the desert mountains, a backdrop that seemed to embody all that Dolly might have dreamed of in a home.

“Do you really live here alone?” Dolly asked again.

Lucio didn’t respond, his silence a constant since their arrival. He was content to follow her, observe her energy and excitement as she explored his home. When she leaned over the banister to gaze down at the swimming pools and desert palm trees below, the humid wind tousled her hair, puffing it out and freeing it from its curls. He admired how it looked—wild and untamed—another aspect of her he found irresistibly beautiful.

“I’m hungry,” she said and turned to face him. “Are you?”

Lucio felt a pang of hunger, but it was more complicated now. Dolly’s presence had partially restored his mortality, leaving him uncertain about how much of his vampiric nature had changed. He knew he needed to understand this dilemma—how much of his immortality remained diluted—before he faced his family.

“I can have the chef prepare you something,” he offered, reaching for his cell phone. But she stopped him. She lowered his hand with a smile.

“I’ll cook for us. It’s only fair—you cooked last time,” she said.

He blinked out of his thoughts as she took his hand and led him back inside, initially heading in the wrong direction toward the kitchen.

“It’s to your left,” he gently corrected her.

She pivoted, guiding them through an open music room adorned with a grand piano.

“Do you play, Lucio?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, his tone soft.

She continued to pull him along, her enthusiasm undiminished. “Good, I sing. So, we make a perfect pair.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise; she had never mentioned her ability to sing before. A surge of excitement washed over him at the thought. He remembered Wanda, his beautiful songbird whose voice had surpassed many women from his past lives. The memory of Wanda rose unexpectedly, but it felt poignant as he imagined the musical harmony he and Dolly could create together.

In the kitchen, Dolly released his hand and began exploring the cupboards and food storage. She opened the fridge, pulling out items she wanted to use, commenting as she did.

“Everything is so fresh, and there’s so much here. Does all this food go to waste with just you here?” Dolly asked, her tone light but inquisitive.

“The staff ensures we donate the excess when I’m away,” Lucio replied, bending the truth. In reality, the fridge was usually emptied, and he didn’t employ a chef. The well-stocked kitchen and fresh ingredients were all Tristan’s doing, arranged specifically for Dolly’s visit. Lucio glanced around, impressed by how lived-in and welcoming everything appeared—a stark contrast to the estate’s usual barren state. Typically, his home buzzed with the presence of staff, but he never found their presence necessary. Why would he need servants? If he wanted something done, it was done.

“I’m going to make a salad and some sandwiches—the best sandwiches you can imagine,” Dolly declared. Her eyes lit up as she surveyed the array of meats and bread. “Oh, Russ would have a field day in this kitchen…” Her voice trailed off with a hint of nostalgia. Russ, despite his disability, had always taken the time to prepare unique meals for her. Now, she gathered what she needed, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease, her culinary plans clear in her mind.

Lucio sat at the kitchen island. He watched her with growing appreciation. “So, cooking means making sandwiches?” he teased, a smile tugged at his lips.

“Yes. Is that a problem?” she shot back playfully.

He chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. As she gathered the ingredients, he observed her with deeper appreciation. “You said you can sing? Let me guess, you sound like Beyoncé?”

“More like Whitney Houston,” she shrugged.

“Really?” Lucio asked, intrigued.

“You don’t believe me?” She glanced up at him as she sliced tomatoes.

“That’s the Queen of R&B. It’s a hard comparison,” Lucio noted, his tone gentle.

“Well, I don’t lie,” she replied.

“Prove it,” Lucio challenged.

“Prove what?” she asked, pausing her task.

“Sing for me,” he said.

“Alright, I’ll sing ‘I Will Always Love You,’ but the Dolly Parton version. My mom made me sing it as a kid. It’s another reason she named me Dolly. Her favorite song was ‘Jolene.’ I like it too. Dolly ain’t no Beyoncé, but I like it.”

“I’m listening,” he smiled, as he leaned in slightly.

As Dolly sang, her voice filled the room with an exquisite harmony, enchanting Lucio completely. His face lit up with a broad smile, astonished by her remarkable talent. But as she fully surrendered to the song, closing her eyes and transforming into a songbird, Lucio’s smile slowly faded. His heart stilled as the Draca within him stirred. He watched her intently, emotions he had suppressed for decades resurfaced with a vengeance. It wasn’t Dolly or Darlene he saw before him—those transformations he could handle. No, it was someone else.

He saw Wanda. He could see her clearly in Dolly, hear her in the notes that filled the room, and, if he wasn’t imagining it, he could even smell her distinctive perfume. He had heard of a songbird in a parish who led a gospel choir. The first time he entered the sanctuary and listened to her he knew who she was. The experience was both beautiful and haunting, a moment that left him breathless.

Dolly blinked out of her performance. She noticed the change in his demeanor. “What’s wrong? You didn’t like it?”

He remained frozen. Unable to speak.

“Lucio?” she asked again.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. It jolted him back to reality. He pulled it out to see a text from his brother. It simply read: When do you arrive?

“Nothing. It was beautiful,” he replied. It forced a smile. “I’m just… shocked by how incredible you sound.”

“Oh? That’s sweet. Here, take a bite!” She slid the plate toward him. Lucio swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat. He picked up the sandwich, his mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. He had perfected the art of faking mortality—he was a master of blending into the shadows, a chameleon in a world of darkness. Love was supposed to be beyond his reach, a lesson his father had drilled into him. They were never to make the mistakes Vittorio had made, the mistakes that had led to their creation. Yet here he was, with a half-beating heart and a prowling Draca inside him, threatening to drag them both into the abyss.

He bit into the sandwich. He forced a smile. Dolly winked at him, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within him. He tasted the freshness of the ingredients—the tomato, the cucumber, the meat, and the crisp lettuce. But beneath it all, he swallowed a bitter truth. As she started on a fresh bowl of guacamole, Lucio’s mind raced.

“You sure you’re, okay?” Dolly asked, her voice tinged with concern as she looked up from her task.

“Yes. I just… don’t want to eat alone,” he joked, and tried to mask his unease.

“I’ll fix mine when I finish the guacamole. It’s my father’s recipe. You’re going to love it. We can chill by the pool. It’s not too bad outside. I thought it would be hot as fire—April in Vegas, right? But the clouds are keeping it cool. When we were on the balcony, I saw—” Dolly continued, her voice a soothing background noise as she worked. Lucio watched her, truly observing her as she mashed avocados and mixed ingredients by hand. He chewed slowly, digesting the new reality she had unwittingly presented him with. Wanda had given birth to a child with special powers. Could she be...? No. It wasn’t possible. He could not make children. But the thought gnawed at him. Could she be his daughter?

Lucio swallowed hard, a sense of urgency tightened in his chest. He had to know the truth. He had to know who Dolly truly was—and what she meant to him.

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