Fratelli: The Awakening (The Vampire Cartel #1)

37. The Council

Chapter 37

The Council

T he Palazzo Tower & Casino

April 15, 2018

(Midnight - 7 Days Before Death)

The private suite the brothers preferred combined luxurious excess with gothic elegance, created to accommodate the unique needs and tastes of Master Vampires. Their father had architected the design of the Venetian and the Palazzo casinos, though his ownership remained cloaked in secrecy behind shell companies and wealthy men given temporary positions of power.

Upon Lucio’s entrance, all eyes turned his way. Tristan caught the sly smile of triumph dawn over Shakespeare’s face and chose not to take the bait. He’d lost control in the past with Shakespeare, and in doing so, had lost respectability amongst the Masters.

Raven, Don Sebastiano’s consiglieri, stood stoically behind his boss’s chair, dark sunglasses obscured his eyes. He had his hands clasped before him. Phoenix, Don Marcello’s advisor, held a faint trace of concern on his face that unnerved Tristan. Had the brethren been discussing him? Instantly, his inner Draca seethed with fury, its claw swiped at the flesh wall of his chest as a reminder that fear was not their way. Despite the sharp sting, Tristan kept himself composed. He strode ahead to pull out Lucio’s chair. The room, expansive with soaring ceilings, was shrouded in darkness by velvety drapes that blocked all sun and moonlight. At its center, a large oval table crafted from ancient dark oak stood surrounded by high-backed chairs upholstered in black leather, each intricately carved with scenes from their father’s conquests alongside some of the dastardliest rulers over the centuries. Each of the men seated commanded the room from one of the four imposing chairs.

Lucio’s gaze swept over his brothers, none of whom turned away from his perusal. It had been a year since he’d seen any of them. Communication between them had ramped up with the increasing decay of his father’s physical and mental state. When no one acknowledged him with a proper greeting, his gaze shifted to the upgrades Shakespeare had made to the Eclipse Suite. A state-of-the-art climate control system kept the room at a cool, constant temperature, reminiscent of the shadowed crypts preferred by old-school vampires like their fathers. The air they breathed was enriched by the subtle scent of ancient woods and earth, piped in through hidden vents to soothe their vampiric sensibilities.

On one side of the room, a private bar was staffed by a discreet butler trained to serve a variety of exotic and blood-infused beverages, catering to any ethnicity in taste. The bar’s backdrop was a massive aquarium, home to exotic nocturnal sea creatures that glided silently through the dark waters, their movements as mesmerizing and mysterious as the council’s deliberations. The walls were lined with age-old tapestries and paintings of ancestral lineage, each telling stories of power, betrayal, and the supernatural history of the vampire elite, who had long since passed. Hidden doors blended seamlessly into the walls, leading to private chambers where sensitive conversations could continue in absolute privacy.

“You smell funny,” Sebastiano spoke first. “Pussy, blood, and something… unfamiliar.”

Lucio’s gaze slipped over to his brother. Lucio had forgotten he put a pair of Dolly’s panties in his pocket. Sebastiano was the only one dressed differently from the others. Instead of the traditional black suit and tie expected for a formal sit-down with their father, he wore a bright red suit with a black shirt and tie. His thick dark hair hung in long graceful curves past his shoulders from a center part. His features were austere, and his manner haughty. On either side of him were his pets: two Tibetan mastiffs with coal-black fur groomed to the point of looking like mink, with large black manes around their massive heads and golden-brown snouts, greater than any lion Lucio believed existed in the natural world. Both beasts panted in unison, their presence imposing even from their seated position. In Sebastiano’s arm was an exotic lizard, long and scaly. Since they were children, he had a fascination with animals. He’d catch, train, then kill and dissect so many of the creatures in the swamp that animals began to slither, run, or hide away when he went in search of them. And Manman Julia didn’t mind. She’d laugh and send Sebastiano as a toddler to bring her a gator for dinner.

Don Sebastiano ruled over the Asian continent and its countries where he had his pick of exotic animals and proudly revealed a new one each time the brothers met. He stared at Lucio as he inhaled him. “Not like any pussy I’ve ever tasted. I’d like to try some. What is that smell on you, brother?” The other brother asked again.

Don Marcello leaned forward as if smelling Lucio. He could feel both brothers across from him trying to pry into his consiglieri mind for an answer. At first, Lucio feared he’d be too weak to protect Tristan or himself. After leaving Dolly, he delayed himself further by stopping to feed on a homeless man, hoping to regain some of his strength and possibly dilute the blood he ingested from her on the plane. It was a wise decision—compared to the stupid one that led him to bring his lovers’ panties to the meeting. He possessed enough strength with the release of his Draca to shield them both. But the effort exhausted him. And there was something else. Something new. Through miles of distance, he could hear Dolly calling for him, weeping. At first, he thought it insane. After all, he’d tried countless times to enter her mind and thoughts. Now it happened? When with his brothers. Something was wrong.

Marcello sat back. “It’s not just pussy you smell, it is new blood mixed with old blood…. strange because it’s feminine. Where have you been, brother? Who is she? Someone for the council? Tell us.”

Lucio shrugged. “Just new cologne.”

Don Domencio chuckled, but the other brothers did not.

“I ate a vagrant on the way. Maybe it was someone he fucked before dinner. Can we move on?” Lucio said without further explanation.

“Things are different with you. Eating vagrants, changing your organization without advising the council? We hear there is trouble in N’awlins. I have a few important men who went down to handle business that we agreed upon and are now missing. What say you, brother, to all of this?” Don Domencio asked.

“What else is there to tell if you heard it already?” Lucio’s gaze nailed his brother.

His twin’s sly smile dissolved into a sneer. “I smell it too, brothers. Smells like bullshit to me. Did you know he killed Leonardo in a time of transition for all of us? He wipes the board clean of all the American and South American trade we have established with the wolves. New Orleans is the only port we control over the wolves. Leonardo, a top earner, a loyal mortal, set to be made into a capu before this council, now replaced by some weakling goon, hip-hop trash?—”

“Leonardo is gator bait in my swamps—compromised by you, the wolves, and anyone else who offered him enough money. If you miss him so much, you can fish him out and continue to suck his dick in your territory, not mine,” Lucio declared.

Domencio slammed his fist on the surface of the table. Sebastiano and Marcello never displayed any divide between them publicly, but from the very beginning that was not the case with Lucio and Domencio—though identical in appearance and personal tastes, they were never on the same side of any argument.

“ Vaffanculo ,” Domencio told his twin brother to fuck off in Italian, his words rumbled with his thick Sicilian accent. Lucio only smirked in return.

Marcello tilted his head to the left. “You’re shielding your consiglieri. Why, brother? We are all family here. What protection does Tristan need from your Fratelli?”

“He belongs to me. You want answers about my intentions, ask them of me,” Lucio replied.

Marcello chuckled. “If what Domencio claims is true, then we will have the wolves at our door once again because of sloppiness from your organization. That impacts everyone at this table. Where is this new leader you’ve brought to us?”

“I’ve brought no one to you,” Lucio countered.

“I’m assuming you will,” Marcello asked.

“It is to be decided. By me. Do you understand? What I do in my territories is never open for the council—just as your witchcraft that you call science is never open to me. I will deal with the wolves and war if it comes to that,” said Lucio.

“Do you hear him?” Domencio pointed an accusatory finger at his brother. “He wants war while we fight to save Father. At this time of all times.”

“There is never a bad time for a war with the wolves. They should be on my leash, not my babies as pets,” said Sebastiano, who lovingly stroked the top of the head of one of his dogs.

“What will Father think of this?” Domencio asked the brothers.

“Who said he isn’t aware? Guess your trained monkey behind you didn’t bother to check on those facts.” Lucio leaned forward, his eyes gleamed with malice. His half-smile revealed his diamond-tipped fangs. “If you had bothered to ask me, I’d have saved you the trouble of corrupting Leonardo and sentencing him to death. In the future, stay the fuck out of my business—brother.”

Domencio smiled but did not challenge the conversation further. They had an understanding.