۞ EIGHT ۞

FOR A SECOND I THOUGHT I SAW A GRIN, but it turned out to be a smile, "You know how to get things done, I appreciate that, Miss…"

Is that a cue for me to say my name? "Arianna. Arianna Sasso!"

"Sasso," he whispered. "Come inside, Miss. Feel secured, I'll take you there." Like a gentlemen, he opened the door for me and I entered.

His car stink badly to humans, but there was also a soft and sweet unknown scent around it. I couldn't tell what it was, but it made it easier to ignore the smell of humans inside.

But the second I looked out of the window, I swear I saw that cat again. The black cat with ruby as its eyes, staring at me from the outside. However, like last time, when I blinked, it was gone. Though being gone didn't erase the chill that ran down my spine.

Did that thing followed me from Campos to here? How the- "Miss? You look pale. Are you alright?" Oh?

I gulped, "Don't worry, I'm okay. So, what's your name?"

"Guillermo," no surname? Alright, he must be trying to keep some boundaries, right? I'll respect that. Dad told me that not many people liked to talk.

Feeling hungry, I opened my bag that still contained food and took some cookies from it, then I offered some to him, "Hungry? I homemade them before coming to Italy, since I prefer homemade food than those we buy outside," I said as I ate one myself.

He took a good look at it and then smiled, "I'll accept one, yes. Thank you, Miss." Then he took it and turned on the car.

"How old are you, Guillermo? You look very young, but you sound like you have more experience in life than most," I asked, trying to talk about something, instead of thinking of the suspicious cat that was starting to freak me out.

After some time, he answered me, "How old do I look?"

I giggled, "That's a tricky question. But around 24, 25."

Through the mirror I could see a smile forming at the corner of his slightly full lips, "You got it right. I'm 24. Most people get it wrong."

"Do they?" Looking inside my bag, I took a pot with caramelized peanuts, the snack my dad always gave me when I got the answer of a question right, back when he was still homeschooling me. "Want some caramelized peanuts?" I took a handful and gave to him when he stopped the car in a red light.

With a nod, he took it, "It's good."

"Indeed. I always ate them when I was growing up. It's one of my favorite snacks, although I don't think many people like it," according to dad, at least. "But I do," I rolled my eyes.

"You have a good taste."

"I know," I grinned proudly. "So, is this a part-time job for you, Guillermo? What do you do? Do you study or something?"

A nod, "I graduated in law, a year ago. And I work with my family. But I like to do this on my weekends, since it's cool to meet new people, and travel a little bit. And I also get some extra money."

"Sounds cool," that was it. Just like that, my social battery ran off, and I felt like it was suddenly bothersome to talk. "Is it okay if I take a nap? I'm tired of the flight," and of dealing with that ass. "Or will it be a problem?"

"Feel free to do as you wish, Miss."

With that, I felt more tired at each second, then I adjusted my bag on the right end of the back sit and laid my head on it. When my eyes closed, it all became suddenly heavy. And before I felt unconscious, the last thing I heard was Guillermo mumbling lowly from the front sit.

He seemed to be talking to someone, "I have the girl. I'll be there in 10 minutes, Gabrielle!" What is he talking about? Who is he talking to?

But it was too late. I couldn't do anything.

𖣔 𖣔 𖣔

There were something thick, hard, and cold around my wrists when I regained my consciousness. Handcuffs. But not normal handcuffs. By how I felt like something wasn't allowing me to used my powers, these were definitely the supernatural-powers-blocking handcuffs that my dad told me about.

Oh my Gods', dad would go nuts if he knew I was reckless and managed to kidnapped not even an hour after I got out of the plane. I should have been more thoughtful. While Sicily is the territory of the Italian reds, Milan is the territory of the Italian immortals.

But how did Guillermo do it? Was it something in the car? Maybe that scent I felt when I entered it? Was that also what masked the fact that the rider wasn't human? Because I was totally clueless, since he smelled like a human to me.

Pretending to being unconscious, I focused all of my senses to tell how many people were here and where I was. It's like a forevision, I can tell exactly where I am and who is around with my eyes closed, as if I had a tridimensional x-ray vision of my surroundings. This a natural skill I have, so it's not blocked by the handcuffs. Dad was surprised when he noticed I had this, and believed it to be an unique skill I got for being a hybrid, or something like that.

I seemed to be in a basement, and there were around ten people on the corners of the room, while this was a mansion of three floors plus the basement I'm in right now. On the first floor there were around seven people, while in the second were twelve, and in the third only two. So, thirty-one immortals at total.

No humans. No reds. No shifters. No vamps. Only them.

…They took me to their fucking base? What for? Are they insane? What do they want from me, for fuck's sake?!

Sighing, I opened my eyes. There was no use on pretending anymore. I can't beat thirty-one immortals on my own. "What is it that the Calandrelli Clan wants from me? I don't think I've ever crossed paths with any of you, or offended you, for a the matter."

At that instant, a guy came down the stairs and with his grey eyes stared at me, until he sat him in my front, and smirked. I could tell he was the strongest one in here, which meant he was the patriarch of the Clan. And the Calandrelli patriarch is Marino Calandrelli, who's around 13 centuries old.

He looked around 28 years old, though. "Do you know who I am, kid?"

"You emanates more power than anyone else in here, so I believe you are the famous Marino Calandrelli. Patriarch of the Italian immortals clan. Am I right?" I tilted my head, unbothered.

It's easy to be like this when you know there's nothing that could possibly kill you. Becoming reckless and not scared of danger is unavoidable.

The man with snowy white curly hair, smiled, "Indeed." His eyes went to my wrists, "Sorry for the inconveniency, Arianna," of course, he knows my name. "I couldn't take the risk of you doing something to any of us. Even if we can't die, it's better to avoid getting into situations where we might be inflicted to pain."

"And why would I do that? I have no hostile feelings towards you, Sir. None. You've never done anything to me," I looked down, than up. "Well, except what you are doing right now. But I get it," sigh. "I came here, into your territory without a notice, since I had no intentions in crossing paths with you. That was rude of me. However, if I turned back time, I would have done the same, since as long as I'm in Italy, we won't be in the same side, I suppose."

Marino scoffed, "Oh, you really are interesting, Arianna."

"Thank you?" I raised my eyebrows confused. "So, I would appreciate if you were straightforward and told me what is it that you intend to do by kidnapping me, locking me in this basement, and handcuffing me, Sir."

He seemed amused, "How can you tell this a basement?"

"I just can."

As I said nothing more, he rolled his eyes, "Alright. Well, a friend of mine, from the Saraiva Clan in Brazil, told me his granddaughter seemed to be coming to Italy, and that I should welcome you the best I could. But that I should be careful because you could be potentially hostile towards me."

"Fuck," that tells a lot. If he's talking about my grandfather, the patriarch of the Saraiva Clan, it means dad was caught by him and he got word of my location. That doesn't sound good.

The Italian immortal came closer, "Yes, fuck. And you know why?" I gulped. "Because my great-grandson Guillermo, told me something quite interesting," oh, dear, was the rider his great-grandson? "Something my friend back in Brazil seemed to be unaware of."

I clenched my teeth, "And what could that be?"

Suddenly annoyed, he held my chin in a hard grip, "That your name isn't Arianna Saraiva, but Arianna Sasso. And that you were trying to get to Sicily. The nest of the Sasso reds." Fuck. "But you are still an immortal." I felt out of breath, "Partially, at that. Half immortal, half red. To think the ripper was hiding such a valuable and dangerous little creature with him."

"Ripper? I don't know who you are talking about?"

Raising his eyebrows, he scoffed, "There's no need to lie, Arianna Sasso-Saraiva. You know exactly who the ripper is."

"Oh, but I don't!" I insisted.

"I'm talking about Jack. The ripper of the Saraiva Clan. The eldest psychopath son of Felipe Saraiva. Who's hands are dirty in the blood of thousands."