Read Online Prey by Rachel Vincent - Free Book Online Page B

looked confused for a moment, hands propped on hips that flared from her tiny waist. “Oh, yes. You’re enforcing for your father. Hardly a proper line of work for a young woman, but if you’re going to fight like a man, I can certainly feed you like one.” Her smile softened the sting of her censure. “Come on in. We’re about to sit down to a big pot of gumbo. You like gumbo, don’t you?”
    “Yes, ma’ am.” I followed her up the porch stairs and into the long central hallway, where I dropped the bagsI carried next to those Vic had abandoned before he’d disappeared.
    “Bert, come on out and say hi,” she said, taking the jacket I shrugged out of.
    But before Umberto Di Carlo appeared, soft footsteps clicked on the hardwood behind us, and I turned to find Manx standing in the doorway, a blanket-wrapped bundle clutched close to her chest. Her gray eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed from the cold beneath her smooth, olive complexion.
    “Well, you must be Mercedes.” Mrs. Di Carlo propped her hands on her hips again and stepped forward boldly to inspect Manx, who towered over her by at least six inches. “My, aren’t you a beauty. I’ll have to warn my boys to keep their distance.”
    Whether she was thinking of Manx’s fear of being touched, or her status as a serial killer, I wasn’t sure. Either way, her greeting obviously wasn’t what Manx had expected. The tabby stared at Vic’s mother and clutched the baby tighter.
    “Well, come on in before you let out all the heat.” Mrs. Di Carlo ushered Manx into the entry, and Brian slipped inside carrying two more suitcases before she could close the door. “And who is this little gentleman?” Mrs. Di Carlo leaned over to peer at the baby’s face, the only exposed part of his tiny body.
    “This is Desiderio Carreño.” Manx’s eyes went soft as her gaze fell on her baby. “He smiled just this morning.”
    “Did he!” Mrs. Di Carlo beamed, clearly thrilled bythe news, though she’d barely even met the child. “Well, this is a pleasure. We haven’t had a baby in the house in such a long time. I’ll show you to your room.”
    Manx and Brian trailed our hostess up the central staircase, and they’d no sooner vanished from sight than a door opened down the hallway, admitting Umberto Di Carlo into the entry. His wide-set brown eyes brightened the moment they landed on me.
    “Faythe! Come in and warm up. Your brother and I were about to indulge in a predinner drink. Join us!” He turned without waiting for my reply, and I followed him through an arched doorway into a room filled with overstuffed furniture, dark woods and thick rugs. On the far side of the room, facing a cozy arrangement of couches and chairs, logs blazed in a stone fireplace, casting jumping shadows on the warm, wood-paneled walls.
    Michael stood when we entered, frowning in concern the moment his eyes found mine. “Dad told me about the ambush. Are you okay?” He took my arm before I could protest and pushed my sleeve up carefully to expose the half-healed bite marks I hadn’t bothered to rebandage that morning.
    “I’m fine. None of us was seriously injured, which is a miracle, considering how badly we were outnumbered.”
    Michael looked half relieved and half jealous to have missed the excitement.
    “Sit!” Vic’s father ordered pleasantly, after a glance at my new scars. His footsteps thundered as he crossed the room toward a small cherry bar in one corner. “What can I get you to drink?”
    “Scotch?” Michael sank onto the left-hand sofa beside me, and Bert nodded in approval.
    “Just like your father.” He pulled a half-empty bottle of Chivas Regal from beneath the bar and poured an inch into two short glasses, then looked up at me. “Faythe?”
    “I’m fine, thanks.” I’d had enough alcohol the night before to last the rest of the month, at least.
    He nodded and crossed the room to hand one glass to Michael. Then he sat on the sedate green couch opposite