Fratelli: The Awakening (The Vampire Cartel #1)

42. Chapel of the Madonna （Cappella Redemptoris Mater）

Chapter 42

Chapel of the Madonna (Cappella Redemptoris Mater)

V atican, Rome - Italia

April 21, 1957

(Curse of Padre Santiago)

“Padre Santiago,” said the young altar boy. He tapped his knuckles on the office door.

Tristano barely looked up from his writings.

“Padre?” the altar boy said and poked his head inside.

“ Cos’è ?” replied Tristano.

“A request for you. Lucio Di Salvo is here in the confessional.”

Tristano’s gaze shot up. He had seen the young Lucio only twice since their first encounter and had spent many nights praying over the dark confessions he had been forced to listen to. Regretfully, he had escalated the matter as far up the archdiocese as possible, but they dismissed him. Vittorio Di Salvo was a respected leader, and the Vatican afforded his sons, including Lucio, even greater respect. However, no one except Lucio had ever entered its sacred halls, to Tristano’s knowledge. Who would believe that a young priest would welcome a cursed soul into the sanctuary and take his confession? No one. And he was grateful that Lucio Di Salvo had stayed away, sparing him any further visits.

“Padre Santiago?”

“Ah, yes, yes, I will see to him,” Tristano said. His voice trembled almost imperceptibly as his hands shook. Initially, he had dismissed the confessions as delusions, but his skepticism had shattered one fateful night when he encountered Lucio in his terrifying, darkened state outside the church. That chilling vision haunted him relentlessly. Was it a manifestation of demonic possession, or a fiend from the darkest depths of hell itself? He couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he must adhere to his sacred vows and strive against all odds to salvage what little remained of the young man’s tormented soul.

Padre Santiago made the sign of the cross and approached the booth. He went inside and sat down, unintentionally exhaling deeply. It took a moment for the nervous tremors in his body to ease. After that moment, he slid back the divider between him and Lucio. Together, they both made the sign of the cross. While Padre Santiago said, “May God, who has enlightened every heart, help you know your sins and trust in his mercy. Confessa i tuoi peccati .”

“ Perdonami Padre, perché ho peccato . It has been 178 days, 178 nights, and 4,272 hours since my last confession. I have sinned.”

Tristano flinched at the vampire’s precise mention of time but did not comment. It sounded like he was mocking the process. The priest closed his eyes and steadied himself before he spoke. “We have gone over this. For the confession to be complete, you must confess all mortal sins in kind and number,” said Tristano.

“You know my sins. The women I hunt, the reasons I make them fall in love with me, to feed on their innocence. And the greedy and sinful coven I serve. I confess none of that has changed. My appetite is unchanged. I confess that the old shopkeeper across the street, who beats the altar boy and commits horrible acts of perversion upon the child, services your God. He was my last meal. May he now rest in hell.”

Tristano looked over at the dividing grate between them for the first time. There was nothing but darkness inside. Did he hear that Filiepe Salunda, a respected parishioner who worked for the Vatican for nearly forty years, was now dead?

“Then you must repent immediately and abandon these murderous acts. You must express sorrow for these actions. You do not work in the name of God. God is all-knowing and forgiving.”

“I cannot stop. I have returned for a final confession. My brother plots against me. He has betrayed me. He hates me. There is no changing that fact. He has tried to sabotage me with Father by taking my secrets to use against me. I fear he will succeed if I do not take measures to protect myself. His latest victory is my consiglieri and his corruption. I have no one to trust in this world. No one who cares about my salvation other than you, Padre. I can smell your fear, but when I reach into your mind, I see your devotion to your God is pure. There is a light in you, something I have not encountered before. You truly believe that there is salvation, even for a creature like me. Like my mother before she turned from your faith. I am alone. I am damned. I cannot go on this way,” confessed Lucio.

“It is never too late to be forgiven. But there must be contrition. The fact that you are here confessing shows you must have regret. And it must be a heartfelt sorrow, not just out of fear of divine punishment, but also from a deep regret for having offended God and harmed another person. Repent and never commit these acts again. Is there no sorrow in you for what you have done to these poor women, to the shopkeeper who you claim to have killed? Any sorrow for the souls lost because of you?” Tristano asked.

“You don’t listen well, Padre. It is like telling a child there is no Easter Bunny, but he refuses to see the truth. It is too late for me and for them. And if you understood what evil truly existed in this world, that altar boy would not have suffered under your watch,” Lucio said.

“I-I—” Padre Santiago staggered.

“It is also, I fear, too late for you. For my greatest sin has yet to happen. There will be no contrition or absolution. Please know that what I do, I do because of what I am, and not what I desire,” said Lucio.

Before Padre Santiago could respond, Lucio was gone. The doors to the chapel were thrown open as Tristano rushed to follow. It was not humanly possible that Lucio could have made it out of the sanctuary so quickly, even if he had run. Padre Santiago looked over at the altar boy, who stood frozen in the aisle, his mouth open in complete shock and horror. A witness to the nightmare that had visited him more than once. Finally, someone saw and heard Lucio Di Salvo.

He hurried to the door and stepped out of the church just in time to see the bloody, torn-apart body of Filiepe Salundo drop from the heavens into the street with a loud splat. Those close enough were sprayed with his blood. Women screamed, and people ran in all directions. Everyone but Padre Santiago. He staggered toward the mangled, bloody mess in absolute disbelief. Monsters were real. Who was he ever to think he could defeat or cure evil?

Several men rushed to the remains of Filiepe, while a few turned away with their handkerchiefs to their mouths. Tristano fell to his knees. Padre Santiago made the sign of the cross before him and gave his blessing, hoping God would save them all. “ Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii , + et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.” (I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son, + and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.)

“ Pentitevi. Pentitevi. Pentitevi !” Tristano screamed, raising his hands to the evening sky and looking up at the clouds. “ Pentitevi!!! ”

The three consiglieri watched their brother burn, even with his body out of the fire. And from the desert wind, dark smoke swirled in around them. Don Sebastiano, Don Domencio, and Don Marcello walked to the scene from the blackness of the desert night. Raven, Phoenix, and Shakespeare all bowed their heads in respect. Domencio swept a cooling wind over Tristan’s charred body and extinguished the burning. He observed him for a moment. He stepped back and looked at his brothers. He shook his head to indicate they were too late. Tristan would not survive without the intervention of his maker.

“Why did you throw him in before we arrived?” Marcello shouted at Phoenix, having read the minds of the consiglieri.

“I needed to ensure he was ready for you and not fighting or protected from revealing the truth. Perdonatemi ,” said Phoenix to the Masters.

“I can’t reach his mind. He keeps repeating scripture in his head. I can’t read shit! I think his Draca is dying or dead.” Sebastiano hissed.

“Per me infatti il vivere è Cristo e il morire un guadagno—For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain .” Tristan repeated in his mind as he felt his Draca’s pending death and his weakening hold on Tristan’s soul. The cursed darkness dragged him closer to hell.

“STEP AWAY FROM HIM.”

The brothers and consiglieri all looked to the left. It was a command from Lucio. He walked down the line of the darkened street. His hands were in the pockets of his trousers, parting his blazer. The brothers retreated enough for Lucio to reach his consiglieri. They all watched in silence as Lucio took to one knee. He leaned in and spoke in a voice only Tristan could hear. “It is not time for you to go, priest. I won’t allow it.”

Tristan opened the one eye that remained on his charred face. Lucio bit into his wrist and opened a vein for Tristan before pressing it to Tristan’s lips.

“Drink!” he commanded.

Tristan had no power to resist. As he drank from Lucio’s wrist, the vampire’s dark gaze swept toward the three consiglieri. “Which one of you dare strike against me!”

“They acted under the protection of the Fratelli of the Draca ,” Sebastiano informed Lucio. “No one broke the order. We gave consent.”

“Against my name?” Lucio roared in fury at his brothers.

“In our name,” the three brothers responded in unison.

“Who are you to us?” Marcello asked. “The keeper of secrets, the one who abandons brothers for his own gain. Pisses on the Fratelli , and Padre’s dying wishes!”

“I am the one you all should fear. It is why you work against me and always have. From the moment Father arrived in the swamp, I was the only one to hear him. Or have you forgotten? I woke you three to your fate. Led you to your destiny. I am the first of four and you know damn well what that means.”

“Is that a threat?” Don Domencio asked with a sly smile.

“It is. From this day on, this is war. We are not four. I am just one.”

Before the brothers could speak or object, Don Lucio swept an evaporating wind of darkness and carried himself and Tristan out of the desert. Domencio was the first to break the silence. “Now, do you believe me? Do you see what we face? He is trying to take his father out. He is going to fulfill the prophecy and that will destroy us all.”

Marcello looked at Sebastiano. They spoke in their language that only twins do. Domencio and Lucio had the power to communicate the same way, but their animosity severed that connection years ago.

“We agreed with you, Domencio. But Lucio is our brother. He is hurt. And you are jealous, as always. You have our blessing to uncover what he is doing, but make no mistake—we are four, not three. We will work to mend this with Lucio. Do we understand?” asked Marcello.

Don Domencio and Don Sebastiano both bowed their heads in agreement.

“No one touches the priest again. To do so would be an act against the Fratelli . He is your brother. Figure out how to fix your shit,” said Sebastiano to the consiglieri.

The three consiglieri bowed their heads in unison. Marcello sighed, dropped his hands in his pockets, and walked off toward the night before disappearing. Sebastiano did the same in a different direction.

Domencio stood there with the ill intent solidified within him. If he could not convince his brothers to destroy Lucio, he’d have to find another way.