THE POISON OF KIN

Uncle Marco, a specter of the past of his own life, emerging from behind the shadows at the back of the shed, an exact duplicate of Enzo's menacing form with his father's knife, delivered Luca a chill shock of awareness. Betrayal was not a crack in their numbers; it was a poison that had spread through their own ranks years ago. "Uncle Marco?" Luca's whisper was a gulping one, incredulity fighting against the horrific reality before him. He had recalled Marco as strict but seemingly devoted man in his childhood, dark figure at the back of his father's flashy personality. His disappearance years ago had been pushed under the carpet as bitter row, tidy divorce. Now the reality was much worse. Marco's sadistic grin widened, teeth too razor-sharp. "Nephew. Long enough, is it? You've turned into a well-raised little. obstacle." He stroked his fingers along the expensive blade, metal glinting what little light there was. "This old sword. a reminder of better times, don't you think? Before Vittorio's fanaticism the true legacy?" The Shadow Syndicate," Isabella blew up, gun still trained on Sofia and the giant thug but with balls of fury at Marco in raging discovery. "You were always invited.". Marco's laugh was coarse, groaning, like Enzo's. "Part of it? Oh, my Isabella, I am part of its very making. My family goes back centuries prior to your 'families'. Vittorio's rise… it was a freak, a brutal seizure of what was ours by right." Bianca's calculating, icy eyes creased. "The 'true inheritance'… the message in my grandfather's music box… it wasn't for Enzo. It was for you." Marco lowered his head, icy respect. "Yes, dear Bianca. Your grandfather weathered the tidal wave of history. Your grandfather recognized the serpent would get the upper hand and made provisions for those who possessed the sense to listen.". Luca's terror turned his marrow to ice. Enzo was no mastermind but a puppet, a vicious thug on the orders of a wiser, older master – his own uncle. Marco's rage wasn't personal; it was family rage, having to reclaim lost power. "And what about Sofia?" Luca thought about his half-sister, who'd played out of revenge. "She was your pawn too?" Marco's eyes leapt to Sofia, a flash of mirth in icy depths. "Sofia was. useful. Her ambition was mine, but less refined. She gave us the struggle, the disquiet needed to shatter Vittorio's grip. But she didn't. have the pedigree." Sofia's face contorted in rage. "You used me!" "Need, Sofia dear," Marco had replied heartlessly. "You did your job. Now you will do another." He gestured to the giant thug. "See that our. guests are. compliant." The thug, his face a ghastly mask of cruel insensitiveness, held a thick lead club, his eyes fixed on Luca, Bianca, and Isabella. What is it that you want, Marco?" Luca went on, his tone now hard. He understood the pointlessness of trying to make sense with his uncle. This was a matter of power, of generations-old blood vendetta. What I desire, nephew," Marco announced, zeal of fanaticism glinting in his eyes. "Is to have things the natural way." "To purge this world of the weak, the greedy new comers who have watered down the true power. The Shadow Syndicate will rule supreme again, and its tyranny will be absolute this time.". The screams on the rooftops intensified, punctuated by ominous creaks of the building. Enzo's attack battered remorselessly, shattering Isabella's defenses. Time was up. "We'll never let you get away with this," Isabella growled, her disgust-thickened voice venomous with hatred. Marco laughed only. "You have no choice, Isabella. Shadows are closing in. And family… always finds the fold." Bianca was moving at the speed of light now. A small, hidden dagger glinting in her hand, as she struck Sofia, to an exposed place. Sofia, shocked by the newfound ferocity that Bianca exhibited towards her, shrieked with horror, retreating. The brute charged in, his great club raised to strike Bianca. Luca shoved her out of the way and took the force of the blow on his shoulder. Burned pain sliced through him and he stumbled, his eyes blurring for an instant. Isabella used the distraction to let loose a burst of flame at the brute, pushing him back from them against a stack of crates. The corridor was dotted with holes. "Lamb, are you alright?" Bianca cried out, holding him up. "Just a scratch," Luca growled, his teeth clenched in pain as his arm hurt him. They could never possibly expect to come out on top in open battle here in this little town. They were outgunned and outnumbered. "There has to be more than one way out of here somewhere," Isabella cried out, looking around at the desolate wasteland. Luca remembered the arrangement of the warehouse. There had been a torn-up loading dock on the other side, reachable only by means of an outrageously thin hallway. It was a risk, but it was the only shot they had. "Down the loading dock!" Luca cried out. "Keep going!" They crept down the maze of crates and splintered machines, the fire rat-a-tats at their heels. Marco's mocking laugh resounded in them amidst the shadows. They arrived at the little passageway to the loading dock. Pushing open the enormous room, they discovered a metal door closed and locked on the opposite side. "Shit! It's closed!" Isabella complained, tugging at the door. "Back off!" Bianca yelled, from her waist unbuckling a little special device. Gentle clicks echoed in the strained silence while she fiddled at the lock mechanism deliberately. When the lock snapped into place, the massive loading dock door groaned open, and Marco stood between it, Enzo and his crew of Shadow Syndicate thugs behind him. "Running so hard to hide, nephew?" Marco shouted, his own face aglow with triumph. "The shadows get their own." They had nowhere to run. The loading dock dead-ended. Marco and Enzo trapped them. Then there was a deafening boom out in the distance beyond the loading dock. The steel door rattled like mad and an amazingly intense force shattered it from the outside. Hinges screeched and the door slammed inward. Through the torn entranceway, a turbo-powered truck, engine roaring, crashed into the dock, smashing through pallets of crates piled high upon each other and showering trash everywhere. Crouched behind, own face set, grim, Marco Vincenzo's second-in-command – Dante. "In!" Dante shouted above the shout of the engine, truck headlights blazing through smoke and dust. Luca, Bianca, and Isabella didn't hesitate. They ran for the truck, dodging smoldering wreckage and stumbling bodies of Enzo's henchmen. "What in the devil's name?" Enzo roared, his face aictus of shock. "Looks like not everyone's so eager to accept your 'new order,' Uncle," Luca yelled back, leaping into the passenger seat. Isabella and Bianca shoved on the rear as Dante stamped on the reverse, tires smoking on hard asphalt. They gasped through loading dock doors, pouring out into the night. Marco towered over the wreckage, his face twisted into outraged incredulity. "Dante! Bastard!" Dante nodded curtly, his gaze still trapped on the windshield. "Loyalty has limits, Marco. And yours. have long since expired." As they fled, leaving destruction behind them, Luca was aware that they had purchased for themselves only a temporary reprieve at the moment. But actual war had now been waged. The Shadow Syndicate, his own uncle at its head and fueled by centuries of anger, was not to be taken lightly. And then, loyal friend once more with them again suddenly, battle lines had been drawn. Shadows had in fact fallen, and the battle for the world's future became one of a race against time. But driving into the shadows, through Luca's mind there ran a shiver of thought: if Marco had been working on such titanic a scale, then what other secrets lay behind the shadows of their family's history? And what other spectres might yet emerge to haunt them?